Dear Friend,
I've been reminded this week that if something is right, nothing can stop it from happening. Likewise if something isn't right (if God has a better plan), God won't let us make a mistake.
Several years ago, we adopted two collies. Tamlin, was named for a mythical Scottish knight. His handsome black coat and doting manner matched his namesake. Pippi, is light brown and white with black highlights; she could audition for Lassie. Her perkiness matches Pippi Long Stocking, the storybook character for which she is named. We got the dogs from a breeder who lives 11 hours away; gratefully she agreed to drive and meet us part way with the dogs. She is a musician with a busy performance schedule, but we managed to find one day in December which would work for both of our calendars. The day before we were to leave to get the dogs, there was still a lot to do. We were having trouble finding two dog crates that would sit side by side in the back of our car for the dogs to travel in. My dear mom, who had an absolute faith in God to take care of every single one of life’s details, spent the day praying for our trip. Late that night she called to say she wasn’t feeling well and asked if I could come to her house. As I cared for her throughout the night, she assured me that she wanted us to proceed with plans to get the dogs and suggested several options for her care; however, as morning dawned she unexpectedly passed away. As I prayed about what to do, the thought came to me very clearly that “Mom would want us to go get the dogs.” At first this seemed impossible, but I remembered Mom’s prayers. Trusting God to guide us step by step, we were able to make the necessary immediate arrangements for Mom’s affairs, found crates that fit in the car , and left for our trip late in the afternoon. Welcoming the dogs to our family, loving them and helping them get settled, was the perfect balm for healing grief over Mom’s passing. God's timing was perfect--a precious reminder that nothing, not even death, can separate us from the love of God.
The following fall, our children decided it was time to have cats again too. I wasn’t too sure about the idea (especially their request for kittens), but I try never to make a decision based on fear of lack…lack of time, lack of patience, money or love. I know God supplies everyone with infinite good, an idea that was reinforced in our lives by Tamlin and Pippi. So, we gathered up two small pet taxis and headed to a pet adoption center which we had previously visited. It seemed pretty certain that we’d be coming home with at least one cat, maybe two. As we were leaving our house, I prayed part of the Lord’s prayer, “Thy will be done,” and trustingly left the outcome of our journey in God’s hands.
It didn’t take us long to pick out two darling kittens and complete the paperwork for adoption. Everything seemed to be going smoothly when the manager unexpectedly pulled my husband and me aside. The teenage girl who had showed us available cats and kittens on our previous visit had questioned whether Heidi and Lincoln (at the time vivacious 10 and 6-year olds) were calm and careful enough to have kittens, and the owner wasn’t sure about how grown cats would fit in with our dogs. While we didn’t necessarily agree with his reasoning, we left catless accompanied by a torrent of tears and objections from the kids.
As I prayed about Heidi'a and Lincoln’s disappointment, I refused to believe that God would allow our family to be deprived of anything good. I also made an effort to look for and appreciate all the good qualities (the love, gentleness, calmness) already being expressed by each family member. A few weeks later, our daughter saw an ad on a bulletin board at school for two grown cats. The cats were used to dogs and kids and were free to a good home. We adopted Toya and Piko, and within a few days they were perfectly settled into our family.
A favorite hymn says, "(God) knows the angels that you need, and sends them to your side, to comfort, guard and guide." We definitiely have angels living at our house, but they don’t have wings and halos. They have fur and long tails and their “Hallelujahs” sound more like “woofs” or “meows.” I call them angels because the stories of how they joined our family and their unending affection have taught me so much about God’s love and continually remind me of His ever-present guidance, and care.
Thanks for letting me share a few more pet stories!
Hugs,
Maria
Postscripts: I love in the Bible how a "great fish" had a key role to play in helping Jonah learn that God's plan can't be stopped, and Baalam's donkey wouldn't walk past the angel sent to keep Baalam from cursing Balak's enemies (see Numbers 22).
Friday, May 25, 2007
Thursday, May 17, 2007
God Gives and We Gather
Hi Friend,
The vet has put Heidi’s cat Caleb on a diet. He has lived with us for just over a year and has gained about 5 pounds—a lot for a cat. Gone are the simple days when we could just fill two bowls with food and let Caleb and Piko graze as they pleased. At first Piko was finding it a bit hard to break into this new routine. As I set his bowl down yesterday morning, a verse from Psalms (104:28) came to thought, “That thou givest them they gather: thou openest thine hand, they are filled with good.”
My thoughts drifted back to when Heidi was born. Breastfeeding was challenging. My nipples were shaped differently, and she definitely preferred one over the other. Trying to get her to latch on and drink from the other side was quite frustrating. During a difficult moment, Michael shared that Bible verse with me. It became my nursing prayer. I realized the Psalmist doesn’t just say with hope, “they might gather if the conditions are right.” In my heart the words became became a law: “What God gives, he makes sure we gather!” God would make sure that Heidi’s and my needs were taken care of. He would guide Heidi’s actions. My approach to feedings became calmer and expectant of success. The nursing did literally even out, and breastfeeding became a happy treasured time.
As Piko began eating, thinking about this law of gathering nourished my morning prayers. Our ability to gather—to find to and utilize God’s infinite goodness, is innate and as natural as a flower turning towards the sun. Fear, doubt, ignorance, human will or circumstances—nothing can limit our ability to partake of God’s infinite supply for us. Whatever is needed—qualities like moral courage, discipline, strength, inspiration, peace and joy, or "things" such as employment, food or companionship—is freely given to us by God. He turns our thought in the right direction and gives us the practical ideas needed to discover His blessings.
Happy gathering today!
With love,
Maria
Postscripts: I often sang hymns while nursing Heidi and Lincoln. One of my favorites, a poem by Mary Baker Eddy, also talks about gathering,
“Shepherd, show me how to go, o’er the hillside steep, how to gather, how to sow,—how to feed Thy sheep….”
The vet has put Heidi’s cat Caleb on a diet. He has lived with us for just over a year and has gained about 5 pounds—a lot for a cat. Gone are the simple days when we could just fill two bowls with food and let Caleb and Piko graze as they pleased. At first Piko was finding it a bit hard to break into this new routine. As I set his bowl down yesterday morning, a verse from Psalms (104:28) came to thought, “That thou givest them they gather: thou openest thine hand, they are filled with good.”
My thoughts drifted back to when Heidi was born. Breastfeeding was challenging. My nipples were shaped differently, and she definitely preferred one over the other. Trying to get her to latch on and drink from the other side was quite frustrating. During a difficult moment, Michael shared that Bible verse with me. It became my nursing prayer. I realized the Psalmist doesn’t just say with hope, “they might gather if the conditions are right.” In my heart the words became became a law: “What God gives, he makes sure we gather!” God would make sure that Heidi’s and my needs were taken care of. He would guide Heidi’s actions. My approach to feedings became calmer and expectant of success. The nursing did literally even out, and breastfeeding became a happy treasured time.
As Piko began eating, thinking about this law of gathering nourished my morning prayers. Our ability to gather—to find to and utilize God’s infinite goodness, is innate and as natural as a flower turning towards the sun. Fear, doubt, ignorance, human will or circumstances—nothing can limit our ability to partake of God’s infinite supply for us. Whatever is needed—qualities like moral courage, discipline, strength, inspiration, peace and joy, or "things" such as employment, food or companionship—is freely given to us by God. He turns our thought in the right direction and gives us the practical ideas needed to discover His blessings.
Happy gathering today!
With love,
Maria
Postscripts: I often sang hymns while nursing Heidi and Lincoln. One of my favorites, a poem by Mary Baker Eddy, also talks about gathering,
“Shepherd, show me how to go, o’er the hillside steep, how to gather, how to sow,—how to feed Thy sheep….”
Sunday, May 13, 2007
Families
Happy Mother’s Day Dear Friend,
I’ve been thinking a lot about families this week. Thursday morning Heidi emailed me at work. Friday was Twins’ Day at school, and she couldn’t find anyone to be her twin. My first inclination was to curse the whole idea of Twins’ Day. Didn’t the administration realize that some kids would feel left out? On the heels of this question, came the answer “God setteth the solitary in families.” (Ps. 68:5) Whoa! God makes sure everyone is included. The Bible verse became my expectant prayer. And guess what? Late Thursday night a friend invited Heidi to be a triplet!
Mary Baker Eddy uses the phrase “where heart meets heart reciprocally blessed” (Miscellaneous Writings 207:2). This has become my definition of family. It occurred to me this weekend that sometimes an integral part of a family isn’t a person at all, but a place, project, idea or activity that unites hearts in a common purpose or that calls upon us to be our best, to bring forth courage, love, creativity, intelligence. Every thing or idea, whether animate or inanimate, has it’s origin in God and expresses God’s Father-Mothering, God's care for us.
Once a month I volunteer at a food pantry meeting with clients to assess their needs. This work at Circle of Concern has become an expression of family. It meets my need to love unselfishly, to open my heart to a larger community. I never volunteer without first praying, knowing that God is caring and providing for everyone who walks through the door. Last Sunday I invited a client to use an extra ticket and attend a performance of “High School Musical” with me. Apparently she had just received some unsettling news. She needed a friend that day. Before the show and during intermission, she asked me about prayer, life and death, Jesus (she is Jewish). We had a wonderful discussion and parted with hugs and smiles—feeling like family.
Email is definitely part of my family experience (No surprise there!)--a space where my heart gives and receives solace, a family-like table to exchange ideas, to lend encouragement when needed, to unobtrusively let each other know, “I’m there for you.” When Mom passed away, one of the things I really missed was having someone to share all life’s little details with. We talked frequently on the phone; she always knew what I was up to. But God even found a family for this desire of my heart giving me a friend who truly enjoys my frequent chit chatty emails, someone who, like Mom, I can tell when I’m headed off to the grocery store or busy folding mounds of laundry. (Heidi wrote an endearing Mother’s Day poem about the time, effort and care I put into laundry, and Lincoln painted me a beautiful trivet--great gifts!)
This weekend I’m cherishing the fact that not a single person, right idea or desire is solitary--on its own struggling to stay alive, find its way, or bear fruit. Because God is everywhere, family is everywhere--a tangible supporting presence for every idea.
Thanks for being a special part of my family! I love you,
Maria
I’ve been thinking a lot about families this week. Thursday morning Heidi emailed me at work. Friday was Twins’ Day at school, and she couldn’t find anyone to be her twin. My first inclination was to curse the whole idea of Twins’ Day. Didn’t the administration realize that some kids would feel left out? On the heels of this question, came the answer “God setteth the solitary in families.” (Ps. 68:5) Whoa! God makes sure everyone is included. The Bible verse became my expectant prayer. And guess what? Late Thursday night a friend invited Heidi to be a triplet!
Mary Baker Eddy uses the phrase “where heart meets heart reciprocally blessed” (Miscellaneous Writings 207:2). This has become my definition of family. It occurred to me this weekend that sometimes an integral part of a family isn’t a person at all, but a place, project, idea or activity that unites hearts in a common purpose or that calls upon us to be our best, to bring forth courage, love, creativity, intelligence. Every thing or idea, whether animate or inanimate, has it’s origin in God and expresses God’s Father-Mothering, God's care for us.
Once a month I volunteer at a food pantry meeting with clients to assess their needs. This work at Circle of Concern has become an expression of family. It meets my need to love unselfishly, to open my heart to a larger community. I never volunteer without first praying, knowing that God is caring and providing for everyone who walks through the door. Last Sunday I invited a client to use an extra ticket and attend a performance of “High School Musical” with me. Apparently she had just received some unsettling news. She needed a friend that day. Before the show and during intermission, she asked me about prayer, life and death, Jesus (she is Jewish). We had a wonderful discussion and parted with hugs and smiles—feeling like family.
Email is definitely part of my family experience (No surprise there!)--a space where my heart gives and receives solace, a family-like table to exchange ideas, to lend encouragement when needed, to unobtrusively let each other know, “I’m there for you.” When Mom passed away, one of the things I really missed was having someone to share all life’s little details with. We talked frequently on the phone; she always knew what I was up to. But God even found a family for this desire of my heart giving me a friend who truly enjoys my frequent chit chatty emails, someone who, like Mom, I can tell when I’m headed off to the grocery store or busy folding mounds of laundry. (Heidi wrote an endearing Mother’s Day poem about the time, effort and care I put into laundry, and Lincoln painted me a beautiful trivet--great gifts!)
This weekend I’m cherishing the fact that not a single person, right idea or desire is solitary--on its own struggling to stay alive, find its way, or bear fruit. Because God is everywhere, family is everywhere--a tangible supporting presence for every idea.
Thanks for being a special part of my family! I love you,
Maria
Saturday, May 05, 2007
Bows of Promise
Dear Friend,
Happy May! May is one of my favorite months. It begins with my birthday on the 3rd and ends with the start of summer! For me, May also has often been a time of wonderful spiritual adventures.
Do you remember when we got our golden retriever Bogie? A week before my birthday, he came for a trial visit. Tamlin, who felt more like a soulmate than a pet, had passed away in January, and our other collie Pippi was lonely. Finding a new companion for her seemed like the right thing to do. Bogie’s family had moved into a condo, and he needed a new home. He quickly settled into our household routine; the kids and Pippi loved him, but my heart just wasn’t ready for another dog. The answer to my prayers for peace and direction came from a poem by Mary Baker Eddy (MBE),--“a bow of promise on the cloud.” Heidi had been calling the dog Bo. I realized I could love Bogie even though there were still clouds of doubt and moments when sadness thundered in my heart about Tamlin. Bogie’s joyful, loving presence was a promise that the storm would clear. My best birthday present that year was the call we made officially adopting Bogie.
The sun truly came out for me a few weeks later. Heidi (then in 6th grade) and I had tickets to a concert by one of her favorite singers, Jesse McCartney. I had been struggling with pain throughout my head and body for months, and I woke up the day of the concert feeling especially ill. I wasn’t sure if I would be able to make it to work, let alone the concert. When we left for school that morning, Heidi was prepared for the possibility that Dad might have to take her to the concert, but that would mean leaving and getting in line over an hour (and several hundred people) later. I called a Christian Science practitioner to help me pray about the pain. Heidi prayed for me all day too. What a great team! By early afternoon, I was still uncomfortable but felt able to go. Heidi and I got to the theater about 4:30, sat down, and waited in line for the doors to open.
As I sat praying and appreciating the people around me, a heavy sense of responsibility lifted from my heart. I realized that I was not responsible for Tamlin’s life, not responsible for my children's happiness and health (nor for my own), not responsible for making sure I'm lovable or that my life is purposeful. That's God's job. Another line from the writings of MBE came to thought, “The divine Mind maintains all identities, from a blade of grass to a star, as distinct and eternal.” I realized that God maintains the continuity of Tamlin’s, my own, and all being. Thinking of Star Trek, I got the image of the molecules representing Tamlin as having been "beamed up" and now being perfectly manifested somewhere else.
The theater opened at 6:30, about an hour before the concert. As I sat off to the side for the next three hours with Heidi completely out of sight standing shoulder to shoulder on the main floor among 1,000 screaming teenagers, I was really grateful to know that I wasn't responsible for her safety--God was. I felt and enjoyed a God-given purpose to spiritually embrace everyone there with kindess. The mom sitting next to me was concerned about one of the girls she had brought on crutches, and I was able to assure her that God was there with the girls. I got to mother those around me--saving seats, picking-up dropped light sticks, letting a little girl stand on my stool so she could see. That night God’s presence became so much more real to me than the discomfort I had been feeling. GOD WAS SO THERE! His voice became louder than a screaming body and screaming girls. I really enjoyed the concert. It was Jesse McCartney's Beautiful Soul Tour. Looking around and appreciating my own and everyone's beautiful expression of Soul (God) was amazing.
I feel like God gave me a double rainbow that night. The lingering clouds about Tamlin lifted. It also was the beginning of a quick end to the pain that had been part of my experience in varying degrees for over a year and a half. There were many lessons learned and insights gained along the way, many milestones pointing towards the final healing of discomfort, but I’ll never forget the pivotal peace and inspiration of God's thereness that particular night at the concert.
I have high hopes for this being another amazing May. I have my eyes open for Life’s rainbows. (I've already found a few.) My birthday was great! Heidi’s class came to my office and sang “Happy Birthday” in Spanish. I got some great cards and lovely gifts. We brought in dinner from Trader Joe’s and enjoyed a nice, quiet evening at home. I feel really blessed.
Thanks for letting me share some May memories with you!
Lots of love,
Maria
Postscipts: The amazing feeling of “God being so there” stayed with me beyond the concert. A few days later, Lincoln wasn’t feeling well, and I turned to the “Scientific Statement of Being” written by MBE (see "Science and Health with Key to the Scriptures" page 468--I've also added it as a comment to this blog). I didn’t need to go any farther than the first word, “There.” God's thereness filled my consciousness. I knew God is all there could be anywhere, and already right there where sickness seemed to be. Lincoln was fine in less time than it has taken me to write this postscript. I don’t think I’ve ever witnessed a simpler, quicker healing.
Happy May! May is one of my favorite months. It begins with my birthday on the 3rd and ends with the start of summer! For me, May also has often been a time of wonderful spiritual adventures.
Do you remember when we got our golden retriever Bogie? A week before my birthday, he came for a trial visit. Tamlin, who felt more like a soulmate than a pet, had passed away in January, and our other collie Pippi was lonely. Finding a new companion for her seemed like the right thing to do. Bogie’s family had moved into a condo, and he needed a new home. He quickly settled into our household routine; the kids and Pippi loved him, but my heart just wasn’t ready for another dog. The answer to my prayers for peace and direction came from a poem by Mary Baker Eddy (MBE),--“a bow of promise on the cloud.” Heidi had been calling the dog Bo. I realized I could love Bogie even though there were still clouds of doubt and moments when sadness thundered in my heart about Tamlin. Bogie’s joyful, loving presence was a promise that the storm would clear. My best birthday present that year was the call we made officially adopting Bogie.
The sun truly came out for me a few weeks later. Heidi (then in 6th grade) and I had tickets to a concert by one of her favorite singers, Jesse McCartney. I had been struggling with pain throughout my head and body for months, and I woke up the day of the concert feeling especially ill. I wasn’t sure if I would be able to make it to work, let alone the concert. When we left for school that morning, Heidi was prepared for the possibility that Dad might have to take her to the concert, but that would mean leaving and getting in line over an hour (and several hundred people) later. I called a Christian Science practitioner to help me pray about the pain. Heidi prayed for me all day too. What a great team! By early afternoon, I was still uncomfortable but felt able to go. Heidi and I got to the theater about 4:30, sat down, and waited in line for the doors to open.
As I sat praying and appreciating the people around me, a heavy sense of responsibility lifted from my heart. I realized that I was not responsible for Tamlin’s life, not responsible for my children's happiness and health (nor for my own), not responsible for making sure I'm lovable or that my life is purposeful. That's God's job. Another line from the writings of MBE came to thought, “The divine Mind maintains all identities, from a blade of grass to a star, as distinct and eternal.” I realized that God maintains the continuity of Tamlin’s, my own, and all being. Thinking of Star Trek, I got the image of the molecules representing Tamlin as having been "beamed up" and now being perfectly manifested somewhere else.
The theater opened at 6:30, about an hour before the concert. As I sat off to the side for the next three hours with Heidi completely out of sight standing shoulder to shoulder on the main floor among 1,000 screaming teenagers, I was really grateful to know that I wasn't responsible for her safety--God was. I felt and enjoyed a God-given purpose to spiritually embrace everyone there with kindess. The mom sitting next to me was concerned about one of the girls she had brought on crutches, and I was able to assure her that God was there with the girls. I got to mother those around me--saving seats, picking-up dropped light sticks, letting a little girl stand on my stool so she could see. That night God’s presence became so much more real to me than the discomfort I had been feeling. GOD WAS SO THERE! His voice became louder than a screaming body and screaming girls. I really enjoyed the concert. It was Jesse McCartney's Beautiful Soul Tour. Looking around and appreciating my own and everyone's beautiful expression of Soul (God) was amazing.
I feel like God gave me a double rainbow that night. The lingering clouds about Tamlin lifted. It also was the beginning of a quick end to the pain that had been part of my experience in varying degrees for over a year and a half. There were many lessons learned and insights gained along the way, many milestones pointing towards the final healing of discomfort, but I’ll never forget the pivotal peace and inspiration of God's thereness that particular night at the concert.
I have high hopes for this being another amazing May. I have my eyes open for Life’s rainbows. (I've already found a few.) My birthday was great! Heidi’s class came to my office and sang “Happy Birthday” in Spanish. I got some great cards and lovely gifts. We brought in dinner from Trader Joe’s and enjoyed a nice, quiet evening at home. I feel really blessed.
Thanks for letting me share some May memories with you!
Lots of love,
Maria
Postscipts: The amazing feeling of “God being so there” stayed with me beyond the concert. A few days later, Lincoln wasn’t feeling well, and I turned to the “Scientific Statement of Being” written by MBE (see "Science and Health with Key to the Scriptures" page 468--I've also added it as a comment to this blog). I didn’t need to go any farther than the first word, “There.” God's thereness filled my consciousness. I knew God is all there could be anywhere, and already right there where sickness seemed to be. Lincoln was fine in less time than it has taken me to write this postscript. I don’t think I’ve ever witnessed a simpler, quicker healing.
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