Safe, but not Invisible

Dear Aaron,

We talked a little this summer about sharing inspirations on how to “authenticize” church. I’ve thought about you a lot, wishing I had something to share. Well tonight, I finally got some clues—not necessarily an answer, but at least new realizations of what makes church work for me.

It has been one of those days, weeks really, when I’ve made lots of mistakes—been angry when I should have been understanding, reactive rather than responsive, when my prayers to “make self-righteousness be still” (Mary Baker Eddy) didn’t seem to be doing much good…at all. When I finally realized today what a jerk I’d been, the picture I saw of myself made me want to run and hide--literally. A friend was kind (and brave) enough to be really honest with me, both in helping me wake up to how “uncharacteristic” I was being and also to how futile it is to run way. Running never solves anything. I also remembered how the desire to hide was Adam’s response when he was embarrassed because he was naked. So this desire to hide was a strong hint that perhaps I wasn’t on track.

Well, it’s Wednesday (church night), and I confess that sometimes lately church just hasn’t been doing much for me other than providing a resting place while my thoughts wander or my eyes doze. I argued, “Hadn’t I kept out of hiding all day? Wouldn’t now be a good time to nurse my guilt and hurt in the seclusion of home?”

Gratefully, the ever-present Christ in us doesn’t let us give up but keeps nudging us onward and upward. I realized that not going to church would be hiding rather than truly trying to make strides towards the healing I knew needed to continue in my heart. I got the idea to go to a little Christian Science Society downtown rather than the much larger church where I’m a member. When questioning why, the thought came, “I feel safe there.”

Hmmm, this was a new thought to me, and as I drove to church, the questioning continued. “Why do I feel safe there?...Because, I’m NOT invisible!”

It is the mortal mind that wants to be invisible when it has made mistakes, when we’re hurting and thinking we are unworthy. However, I believe the heart wants just the opposite. It sometimes seems afraid of being left alone, of its longings not being noticed or heard. (In fact, it occurs to me that this is why emotions are often so freely expressed in places like Facebook, and perhaps why I too sometimes say things that I later regret.) Our hearts don’t want to be solitary, but intimately known. The heart is made to love and be loved, to take and give courage and encouragement.

It is all too easy to hide in a large church. I could not attend for weeks and my absence might not be noted. I could fall asleep during the service or have tears streaming down my face, and no one would likely notice. But at this little church, everyone sits in a circle. I can see the tear creeping down the cheek of the person sitting across from me, and she can’t help but see my smile. When I walked in tonight, I wasn’t sure where I was emotionally, but I took comfort in knowing that if I cried, someone would notice…and care. I sensed that in this little “sanctuary,” most of the people who walked in the door did so with a willingness to let themselves be known as they were in that moment—for better or worse, without needing to fear judgment. Likewise they also accepted the responsibility of respecting each other’s emotional nakedness, and if called upon (by the simple observation of another), would respond in a way that is Christian—which Mary Baker Eddy defines as “compassionate, helpful, and spiritual.” I doubt that all this is at the forefront of consciousness while people are at church, but nonetheless, I think these may be reasons why people are willing to drive a long way to attend the Society’s services rather than choose the convenience of much closer congregations.

Surprisingly, I actually didn’t cry at church tonight, but instead found myself sharing some of these inspirations during the testimony time. I listened really well during the readings too. I am so grateful for everyone at the service, and for the Christ in my heart that led me there. I may still have some bridges to rebuild and rough edges to smooth in my life, but I left church feeling like I was once again headed in the right direction.

So, now I have two important ingredients on my list of what makes a church experience feel authentic and sacred to me—feeling safe, and not being invisible.

Maybe we can share a service together at this Society next time you are in town. Thanks for your friendship!

With love,
Maria

Marriage Sabbath

Dear Barb,

Michael and I just returned from a slightly early 25th wedding anniversary getaway at Lodge of the Four Seasons in the Ozarks. We had such a wonderful time! We ate some incredible food, danced in our room to Chicago’s Greatest Hits (courtesy of Mike’s cell phone), went parasailing, talked of our dreams, and in many ways were reawakened to the holy ground of marriage.

I have never forgotten the 8th grade Sunday School class where we talked about relationships, and you mentioned that it wasn’t too early to begin praying about marriage. I took your suggestion to heart. My “hope chest” became a “God knows when chest,” and whenever I thought about the future I made an effort to not just daydream but consciously trust God’s matchmaking, to cherish His perfect timely supply of everything my life needed.

Well, you know the next part of my story as well as anyone. At 20, I was a blushing bride to my high school sweetheart. Michael and I were so touched that, although you had been quite ill, your husband quietly snuck you in and out of the back of the church on the fringes of the ceremony so you could be at our wedding. Several friends have shared wedding stories with me recently. I don’t think I fully realized how blessed we were to stand there and exchange vows with such joy and confidence. There were no doubts, no fears, no glitches to the day. Yes, there were lots of tears, but they were tears of deep love and gratitude for each other, our God, and for all the friends and family supporting us that day.

Yesterday as Mike and I ate dinner (the best vegetable stir-fry and spinach salad ever), we watched preparations and photo-taking prior to a wedding being held in the Japanese Garden just beyond our dining table window. How relieved I was to finally see the bride’s furrowed brow give way to smiles and how my heart prayed Mary Baker Eddy’s words, “May Christ, Truth, be present at every bridal altar to turn the water into wine and to give to human life an inspiration by which man's spiritual and eternal existence may be discerned.”

I remembered this weekend that in many churches, marriage is considered a sacrament—something that helps us grow spiritually and become more aware of God’s presence in our lives. The Bible commands us to “Remember the sabbath day, to keep it holy.” It occurred to me that perhaps we also need to apply this command to the sacrament of marriage. Life for many married couples gets busy--first with careers, then with family, volunteer work, and other activities. For a variety of “reasons,” Mike and I have not done a good job of making time for “us” through the years. This weekend we decided that we need to remember to provide sabbath moments for our marriage, to take time to reflect on God’s presence in our relationship, to celebrate storms weathered and hearts strengthened, to help each other unearth and bring alive our hopes and desires. I decided to once again remember to pray regularly for our marriage, not just when there are bumps in the road. I want to acknowledge God’s smile in those most romantic “I love you” moments and with joyful expectancy put our future in His hands whenever I wonder what our “happily ever after” is going to look like.

As Michael held me in his arms this weekend, I felt like a young girl again—pure, childlike, and so safe. I didn’t feel old enough to be celebrating a silver anniversary. In many ways, we probably were more honeymoon-like than we were 25 years ago. Michael was my knight in shining armor. When our first hotel room smelled unbearably musty, he called and requested another room. (The room we were so graciously given in exchange was so much bigger and inviting). It was Mike’s idea to feed each other the dark-chocolate dipped strawberries (delicious!) gifted to us by the Lodge as we had fed each other wedding cake at our reception, and he insisted on kissing repeatedly as we dangled from our parasail 300 feet over Lake of the Ozarks. We slept–in, walked in the moonlight, and swam in the indoor/outdoor pool that had welcomed us as bride and groom on our first visit in December 1983.

I’m ready to make reservations for 2033. As to the exact date, “God knows when.”

Thank you for being such a dear friend and one of the best Sunday School teachers ever!

With much love,

Maria

"For Good"....

Yesterday I attended a memorial service for my brother Bill, who passed away on December 23rd. Below is a slightly edited letter I shared at his funeral. He was a web design/computer consultant who also loved photography. (His photos can be seen at http://photosofchicago.com. ) My heart is filled with admiration and love for his wife Mia and their 7 year-old daughter Lauren.


My Dear Brother,

If you have a minute today, pop-in on Heidi. She is attending a performance of “Wicked”--one of her favorite musicals. I'd like you to hear the song “For Good.” You are one of the people I think of when I hear the line, “Because I knew you, I have been changed for good....” and to me "for good" means in wonderful, holy ways.

I can’t begin to tell you how much my weekend with you a month ago changed me spiritually. Thank you for the amazing moments we shared. What a gift God gave us! (And thank you Mia, for giving me this time with your husband.) I’ve never spent much time in a hospital, let alone visiting someone in intensive care; but I hardly noticed the machines and tubes. What amazed me was your grace and dominion. You weren’t letting the frailness of your body govern your mind.

We talked about cell phone plans and computers; you remembered how old our Mac is. We looked up the definitions of “opinions” and “convictions.” We had fun discussing the Democratic presidential candidates, wondering which one Daddy would vote for if he were still here and surmising whether or not each candidate would perform on late night TV if given the chance--like Bill Clinton did on “Arsenio Hall.” Have you heard the Iowa Caucus results? Obama, Edwards, and Clinton—your preferences and ranking exactly.

You had spent a lot of your time alone in the hospital thinking deeply about spiritual things. While you hoped and expected to live, you had also realistically faced the possibility of death. You’d thought about father figures for Lauren and the possibility of Mia’s remarrying someday. You selflessly wanted love and happiness for your girls.

You weren’t afraid of death. I loved sitting at your bedside on Saturday sharing our reassurances that this “plane of existence” is just one chapter in a life that continues when the curtain has closed on the human scene. You laughed and decided that perhaps we are both “Christian Buddists.” While there were things you still wanted to do while here, I liked considering the possibility that someday (but perhaps not on Earth) we all get to be and experience all that our hearts purely and truly desire.

Thank you for letting me nurse you on Sunday afternoon--you were understandably ready to rest after such a full Saturday of talking. It’s not often that a little sister gets to feed orange jello to her big brother or massage his feet. Heidi recently took a “Frontiers of Faith” class where students had the opportunity to wash each other’s feet as Jesus did for his disciples. As you let me rub your toes and heels, I felt the Christ’s presence in our silent exchange of humility. You said you felt so much peace. Later while you slept, I hugged my laptop like a teddy bear and prayed to better understand and feel that immortality we’d talked about the day before; and in my prayers, I found the assurance that the beeping monitors really told only one side of the story. God was taking care of you. I could trust His eternal, day by day, care for all of us. I do think God strengthened your mind and body until all the human details were in place to make sure Mia and Lauren would be taken care of; and then, you were willing to let go of your physical body and take your wings--your spirit and mind no longer encumbered.

I wish you could send us some photos of heaven. So, start working on your web page, we’ll all want to see your pictures when we arrive.

I love you, 

Maria

Don't go Judgin'!!

Heidi's final project for a recent religious studies class was to imagine what Paul would say if he visited her former school today. Her email from Paul based on I Corinthians follows. Enjoy! (By the way, her first week at Crossroads was "awesome.")

From: “Paul of Tarsus”
To: “Upper School Students”
Date: 2007 in the Year of Our Lord
Subject: Cool it with the gossiping! Don’t go judgin’!! Love everyone you meet, not just yo’ peeps!!

Hey!
Your friend Paul here. I’m sending you this message for a reason, so don’t delete it!! Read the whole thing so that God can reach out to you. He’s always been there, but you have to be the ones to make the effort to ‘friend’ him on Facebook and start up the communication. You guys have been pretty good about that – you try really hard to express God, and Jesus is obviously sticking with you all. I think you know what you’re doing, and all you want is good. Never forget that Jesus and God are right there for you!

On the other hand though, you’ve got some serious issues. I’m not trying to diss you, but this is important! You need to pull yourselves together!! Friends have texted me, and what they say isn’t good. They said since I left, you’ve been gossiping about each other, gettin’ up in each others grillz. You’ve been very judgmental about people you should be friends with, and even laughing at them because of what they look like, who they’re dating, or what ideas they have about the world! That is not cool!! Pull yourselves together!!!

Trust me, I’ve had friends backstab me too, and I know how much it stings. When my close friend and traveling companion John Mark left me during an important time in my journeys because he doubted that my plan to spread Christianity would work, I was seriously ticked, and very depressed. That doesn’t mean I wanted to spread false stories about him for revenge or stop loving him like a brother! What you all need to learn to do is learn to forgive and forget! No one can be perfect, and when people make mistakes or do things that hurt you, get over it! Ultimately, you are both children of God, and if you don’t love your friends, you don’t have anything. Without true love for even your closest friends, no matter how much they mess up, how can you begin to love everyone??

That’s the other thing you guys need to get up to scratch on: stop judging people!!! Not everyone at your school is the same, and that’s great, but you need to spread the love to everyone, not just the people you agree with, ones who dress like you, or hang out with you. Even if you read your Bible Lesson every day, believe in God with all your heart, and say your prayers and sing hymns every night before you go to bed, but can’t love people without conditions, you have absolutely nothing, and your faith is wasted. Take my views on requirements for becoming a Christian, for example. Most converted Pharisees, (and I used to be one too), thought that to become a Christian, you had to become a Jew first, and follow Jewish customs, like being circumcised, but I stopped them in their tracks. Christianity (and keep in mind as I say this that you are a Christian school) is all about love. Jesus loved the world so much that he died on the cross then rose himself from the dead to prove his love. Love shouldn’t have any conditions whatsoever. It is an unselfish, pure thing that everyone should share freely with everyone else, no matter what their background, opinions, appearance, or what they’ve done in the past.

In short, Love is all you’ve got, friends. Without it, there’s nothing important you can do. It needs to become your top priority, over any personal thoughts you might have about others. Just love them!

I may come visit you again soon, so be on the lookout. Send my greetings to the good teachers of your community, and remember to spread the love! I love you all in the name of Jesus, dudes. Peace out!

-Paul

May You Flourish

Dear Heidi,

Monday is my father’s birthday. If he were still on earth, he would be 95. It somehow seems fitting that Monday is also the day you begin at your new school. If you have any of my dad’s genes, I think they include his liberal outlook. I know he would really like who you are.

Dad was born into a Republican family, but switched parties. He used to smile on Election Day and talk about how he and his brothers would go to the polls and cancel their parents’ votes; but because there were three boys, the Democrats always claimed a victory in the Stocking household. Dad voted a straight party ticket, voting not for people but for a system of values. He made sure I had a working knowledge of US government from an early age—the branches of government and balance of power as well as both parties’ ideals and politics.

Dad would love the diversity of students at Crossroads School. He taught at Cooley High School in Detroit during the race riots. He would often tell of the day he was healed of lingering racial prejudice. A favorite student learned that he was a Christian Scientist and invited Dad to meet his grandfather, a Christian Science practitioner. When Dad met the gentleman, he was taken aback by the man’s deep black skin. Only then did Dad look at his lighter-skinned student and began to notice some of the boy’s African-American features. In their conversation, the man told Dad that, although he was a Christian Science practitioner, he wasn’t listed in our Journal’s directory of practitioners because he didn’t want the word “colored” to appear after his name. This boy and his grandfather forever changed how my dad looked at mankind. Dad’s special interest as a social studies teacher became black history. He collected quite a library of books to share with his students and colleagues. In our home, we celebrated Dr. Martin Luther King’s birthday for years before it became a national holiday. King’s “I have a dream” is a sound bite permanently etched into my memory.

Dad would also like Crossroads’ efforts to be a green campus. When I was in elementary school in the 70’s, we used to walk a few blocks up the street to an alternative sources of energy store and help put labels on mailings. It was as much a headquarters for environmental activists as it was a shop. I laugh now to think of what an unlikely location it was—a busy street corner in the middle of Detroit. Yet there you could find electricity generated by the wind, feel toasty in a building heated by solar panels, and join pioneers as they sipped sun tea and discussed the latest issue of “Mother Earth News.” Dad would admire your desires and efforts to make a difference in the world.

I hope that while you are at Crossroads you will take many different electives. Dad’s brother Uncle Fred is a self-proclaimed dabbler. When he retired from being a college English teacher, he took up painting and playing the recorder. At the age of 84, his wife Carol gave her first vocal recital. I admire Stocking family members for not being afraid to try new things. Uncle Fred happens to be pretty good at his hobbies, but perfection isn’t a goal. His joy is in the process, the sheer joy of trying and doing. My dad’s favorite hobby was ham radio. He talked in Morse code to people all over the world. He built his own equipment, taught adult education classes to help people get ham radio licenses, and wrote articles on antenna design for “73 Magazine.” He and his friends talked over the radio waves in Morse code long before “chat rooms” became a household word. But Dad also loved gardening and playing the piano. At different times in his life, he dabbled in painting, model airplanes and photography. He built is own photo-processing equipment and a dark room in the basement. Occasionally as a child I got to help him carefully move photos from one developing tray to the next. I have happy memories of sharing in his projects.

I will think of my mom and dad as I drive you to and from Crossroads. Dad was born and raised in Detroit, but just before I entered 7th grade, he left his home and moved to Missouri for my education. He and Mom wanted me to go to school in an environment where they felt I could best flourish. For the same reason your dad and I look towards your next adventure with hearts filled with hope. We are excited about the opportunities you will have at Crossroads to learn, to meet new people, to give and to love.

Have fun on Monday! Take my Dad’s twinkle in your eyes to school; and maybe when you get home, we can celebrate in Dad’s favorite way. Ice cream anyone?

I love you,
Mom

Summer Love

To anyone who has ever felt summer love,

During my first week at camp this summer, I overheard a realtor mention a piece of land about to go on the market--two beautiful acres adjoining the camp. The current owner was a master gardener who had planted wildflowers, sprayed the pine trees for mistletoe and started clearing the land for a house. There were young aspen groves, a rare loan limber pine and views of Mt. Columbia, Mt. Yale and the Buffalo Peaks Wilderness. The price seemed reasonable; my curiosity was piqued. The realtor said she’d email me a flyer. Later in the day, I decided to drive into town for some ice cream. However, I found myself turning the car in the opposite direction and began to explore “Game Trail” looking for the lot. I didn’t have the address and couldn’t find the “For Sale” sign, but I enjoyed seeing the diverse homes and began to imagine what life in this mountain valley subdivision might feel like.

For over a week, I waited for the email from the realtor, but it never came. Then finally, one afternoon I was working in the camp office and saw a flyer for the property on the bulletin board. My heart skipped a beat. I now had photos of the view, the trees and an address. Did I dare go look? I made a quick drive by. The wooded street was so peaceful, so beautiful. My head and heart had already been wistfully spinning and turning—sometimes merely daydreaming about buying land in this community, sometimes “talking to myself” and rationalizing what a good investment the land could be, sometimes blissfully relishing the thought of doing something completely crazy. Of course, there were other times when the whole idea seemed absurd; however, it usually was pretty easy to quell the voice of reason. After seeing the property, I knew I had to show it to Michael when he arrived in a few days.

We walked the lot together. “Ours” we called it as we tried to locate the exact boundaries. We made a long list of questions for the realtor. Surely there would be some catch, some answer that would cast a negative light on the whole idea. There wasn’t. So, I got information about various lenders to look into financing. We began to talk about the kind of house we’d like to build someday. Maybe we could build sooner, rather than later—a place which would be a vacation house for now and eventually our permanent home. The kids could bring friends there for skiing trips during winter and spring breaks. We’d build family memories for years to come. We'd build a house laid-out so Mike’s parents could come visit. We’d help Papa get around while Mom relaxed—enjoying views and a lifestyle reminiscent of her brothers’ homes in Canada. Even when we weren’t there, friends and guests of the camp would be welcome to use our vacation house. It would be a blessing, not just for our immediate family, but others.

Back home from camp, I spent days looking at house plans on the internet. At first I hardly knew what I was looking for, what I/we liked. The realtor had mentioned a passive solar home. This idea struck a chord with our values--green, economical and unique. One night I found a plan that beautifully met most of our desires. It didn’t take long for me to be able to imagine us in the house. I thought about furnishings—inexpensive, colorful and versatile. I had fun realizing what things we already had to take and use there. We have two games of Scrabble, Backgammon, Sorry, Aggravation and Uno, an extra vacuum, some rockers, a microwave and single beds. We’d build bare bones at first and add a garage and some of the appliances later.

Finally, it was time to decide whether or not to move forward, to make an offer on the lot. We reasoned, prayed and eventually came to the conclusion that this wasn’t the right way to invest our energies and money right now. As wonderful as the property is, we aren't ready to commit to this geographical location forever. It was hard to let go, but a few days later I awoke to hear the “still small voice”—the assurance from God that we’d made the right decision.

I assumed that after the “still, small voice” my thoughts of the land and house would fade, and indeed my longing for them, that “got to have it” feeling, has disappeared; but I find my thought still drifting towards that simple straw bale structure filled with bookcases and sliding pocket doors. When we were at Office Max the other day, I tried out a collapsible dorm room chair that would have been great in the Colorado house’s living room.

I’ve questioned why this unbuilt house still seems so real to me, so much a part of me--why I think of it fondly almost like a friend? Then I realized the idea had indeed befriended me—called to me, begged me to entertain it, and in doing so helped me learn things about myself, what I value, what I like. I learned to dream again, to think with happy expectation about what the future can bring. This marvelous piece of land gave me a taste of summer love, something which I’ve read and seen movies about, but which as a teenager never experienced. Sad or bittersweet when it ends, in time its memories bring only smiles and hope...smiles of gratitude for the experience and hope that it’s magic will come again at another season in a more enduring form.

So as summer draws to a close, join me on my imaginary porch next to the built-in outdoor fireplace (for winter s’mores of course), fill your glass with iced sun tea and join me in a knowing, happy toast. “To summer love!”

Cheers,
Maria

Our Wedding Vows

Dear Michael,

Going to the wedding with you yesterday was so special. It has been a long time since we sat side by side at a marriage ceremony. You played the trombone at Devon and Chris’ and were in Paul and Stacey’s; so I think it has been at least 8 years.

I couldn’t help but think back to our own wedding beginning with the amazing hike in Rocky Mountain National Park where we wrote our vows near the spray of Ouzel Falls. The wildflowers were abundant—Indian Paintbrush, Columbine, and endless varieties of golden daisies that later in your graduate school days we dubbed “darn yellow composites.” Like our hike to Harvard Lakes this summer, I remember the trek being a bit tiring for me, but that didn’t matter; the beauty of our destination quickly rejuvenated me.

With the sound of the falls as background music, we went over the traditional text of the wedding ceremony line by line changing words here and there until they matched our best understanding at the time of marriage’s deepest spiritual meaning. We used to laugh and say that our ceremony with its readings and hymn was almost a Wednesday evening Christian Science church service!

I was going to type out just the heart of our promises to each other, but as I reread the service today, I found that almost every line continues to speak to me in an enriching way. So, I’m going to bring the complete “Marriage Vows of Michael and Maria…Wedded, December 17th, 1983” off the typewriter created pages of our little spiral-bound red booklet into the electronic cyberworld of the 21st century. Let’s revisit them together hand in hand soon!

To set the stage, Jerry and his trombone trio entertained the guests while I put the finishing touches on my lipstick (a procedure which to this day feels somewhat foreign to me). After the prelude, the organist started Bach’s “Sheep May Safely Graze” (she never did get those fancy turns right), and I began down the aisle. I can still see your radiant smile…

With all reverently standing, the minister (said):

Dear Friends, we are assembled here today in the presence of God, to join this man and woman in marriage, which is blessed by God, regulated by his commandments, and is to be held in honor by all mankind. Marriage, in its highest sense, is the expression of man’s completeness, of his individual spiritual unity with God. For as the Scriptures say, “I am married unto you.” Seeing and expressing this oneness of God and man, husband and wife know that Divine Love will always meet their human need for affection, home and spiritual growth. Following His guidance, they truly love and nourish each other and their family. Marriage, governed by Love and guided by Christ, blesses, purifies and elevates all mankind.

Let us unite in a few moments of silent prayer....”Trust in the Lord, and do good; so shalt thou dwell in the land, and verily thou shalt be fed. Amen.

Next your Dad shared our readings (I’ll include them at the end), and Walter sang “The Lord’s Prayer.” Then the minister addressed you, “Michael, will you have Maria to be your wife, and will you give yourself to her, in all love and honor in, all duty and service, in all faith and tenderness, to live with her, and cherish her, according to the law of God, in the holy bond of marriage?

At this point, I think we both were crying. You gave your eternal “I will;” mine soon followed. Next my very happy parents gave me “to be married to” you, and then we exchanged the vows we’d written on our hike.

I, Maria, take you, Michael, to be my wedded husband; and I do promise before God and these witnesses to be your loving and faithful wife; to endeavor always to see you as God sees, to love you as God loves, and to hold no concept of you or us that is false, earthly, or impure, that we may grow together and individually in the service of God.

Exchanging our rings, we tenderly said, This ring I give you as a reminder of God’s gentle ever-presence, the source of our love for each other.“ (Both the design of our rings and the following benediction were inspired by Mary Baker Eddy’s poem that begins, “Oh gentle presence, peace and joy and power…").

The minister continued: May the peace, joy and power of your Father-Mother God be with you always. Let us pray: Dear Father, bestow upon your children, Michael and Maria, your fatherly benediction; granting them grace to fulfill, with pure and steadfast affection, the vow and covenant they have made. Guide them together, in the way of righteousness and peace, that, loving and serving you, with one heart and mind, they may be abundantly enriched with the blessings of your everlasting love. Amen.

By the authority committed unto me, a minister of the church of Jesus Christ, I declare that Michael and Maria are now husband and wife, according to the ordinance of God, and the laws of the state. You may kiss the bride. (Ah, for the days when thinking about that kiss was our biggest worry!)

Then everyone was invited to “join us in singing a prayer of joy and gratitude to God, Hymn #58.” (“Father, we Thy loving children, lift our hearts in joy today...” set to Beethoven’s “Ode to Joy.”)

Whom, therefore, God hath joined together, let no man put asunder. The Lord bless you and keep you: the Lord make his face to shine upon you, and be gracious unto you: the Lord lift up His countenance upon you, and give you peace. Amen.

I love you Michael!

Your bride,
Maria

Our Readings

From The Bible:
I John 4:7-8, 11
I John 5:2-3 (to :)
Ephesians 5:1-2, 8, 10, 20-21, 33 (let)
I Corinthians 13:4-8 (to :), 13
Matthew 5:5-8, 14 (to ,), 16
Matthew 7:7-8
Matthew 6:30-33
Matthew 5:48
Psalms 91:9-11
I Thessalonians 3:12 (to second ,)

From the writings of Mary Baker Eddy:
Science and Health with Key to the Scriptures (S&H) 61:30-31
S&H 56:7-8
S&H 64:26-27
Miscellaneous Writings(Misc.) 286:7-10
S&H 64:17-21, 22-25
S&H 57:4-11
S&H 60:16-18
S&H 58:21-23
Miscellany 268:8-10
S&H 58:7-11
S&H 60:4-8
S&H 59:3-6
S&H 57:18-21
S&H 66:14-16
S&H 57:23-24
Misc. 307:1-8
Misc. 262:12-14
S&H 65:3-6
S&H 454:18-19

Prayer Pictures

Dear Friend,

Tomorrow we head home from camp. We’ll have a full car with our family of four plus two friends—one each for Heidi and Lincoln. We’ve enjoyed being here. The time has flown by, but I’ll be ready to hit the road and begin the adventures of another school year.

This session has been so different from my first two weeks at camp. My prayer time (literally time) has completely changed. The 4 a.m. wakings I learned to enjoy earlier in the summer have been replaced by equally rewarding middle of the night prayer moments. I’m learning to be grateful for the prayers God gives me at whatever time and in whatever form they come.

One morning before coming to camp, my prayers came to me as pictures; not just metaphors but mental images—almost like photographs or short video clips. There was one for each member of my family—Michael, Heidi and Lincoln. In the “photos” they had big smiles on their faces as they engaged in various new activities, confidently radiating qualities that I had been cherishing as inseparable from their experience—qualities such as individuality, grace, courage, friendship. I even had a prayer picture for our pets. I was seeking assurance that they would be happy while we were gone. The “snapshot” included all four animals together on our living room floor sitting contentedly at the feet of our house-sitter—the dogs panting; the cats swishing their tails.

During “alone with your thoughts time” my first week at camp, I realized I didn’t have a prayer picture for myself and asked God for one. I saw myself as a soaring bird looking down on everything going on below. This picture has been a reminder throughout camp to look at things from a higher, spiritual perspective, to let God’s thoughts lift me above the fray.

I have returned to these mental pictures over and over again in my daily prayers for my self and family. They remain vivid reminders that our perspectives and being come from and reflect God. Sometimes prayers come as hymns or favorite Bible verses or perhaps as simple affirmations of God’s Allness. Sometimes I mentally reason or ponder spiritual facts as they relate to day-to-day events. But I’ve come to look forward to and especially enjoy the prayer pictures. They feel so new and refreshing to me. I can’t wait until God sends another my way.

Happy August!

Much love,
Maria

Cherishing Spiritual Healing

Dear Friend,

I have learned so many spiritual lessons at camp this summer, and there’s still a week to go! Last session I made a trip to Grand Junction to visit my cousin and his wife. We had some wonderful discussions about spirituality and relationships. I was reminded how important it is to get “I want” out of my vocabulary and instead to trust what God wants. He knows what we truly need both individually and collectively.

Sometimes my “I wants” seem pretty reasonable. Recently I really wanted a good night sleep. The next day’s activities called for early rising and mental alertness. However, I was awakened in the night by a camper needing help. I confess that my first thought was, “Oh no.” Fortunately my best and true self came through, and I was quickly up providing needed physical and spiritual comfort. I remembered that “Giving does not impoverish us…” (from Science and Health with Key to the Scriptures). The camper soon settled down and went back to sleep, but I stayed awake for a while longer praying.

The other day I mentioned to you that the thought of perhaps some day making myself available to pray for others was kind of scary. Well, I had volunteered to pray for the camper; so now I had to face this fear. The Bible says, “perfect love casteth out fear.” It occurred to me that I needed to love the healing practice of Christian Science with all my heart. I began by being grateful for all the healings I’ve had, for the Christian Science practitioners who have on so many occasions prayed for me and my family—sometimes in the middle of the night or while they were on family vacations. I thought of the Christ communicating exactly the healing ideas needed to practitioners and patients everywhere 24/7. I loved the courage and expectancy of good expressed by those seeking spiritual healing and the joy and confidence with which Christian Science practitioners welcome every call. I fell asleep rejoicing in the ever-presence of the divine Love that heals. I awoke the next morning refreshed; the camper awakened well.

I hope that I never again let myself be afraid of being called to the Christian Science practice. There simply can’t be anything scary about something so God-governed. Being a practitioner may not be what God has planned for me (I’m going to try not to outline what I do or don’t “want” in this regard), yet regardless of my vocation, I intend to do a better job of cherishing spiritual healing in support of all those seeking and providing it. This deeper, more intimate love of the Christian Science practice may be one of the most important things I take home from camp this year.

Thanks for the thoughts about the practice that you’ve shared with me recently. I’m looking forward to hearing more about your summer activities and inspirations!

With love,
Maria

Postscripts: After finishing this letter, I remembered that in Miscellaneous Writings, Mary Baker Eddy says, “In different ages the divine idea assumes different forms, according to humanity's needs. In this age it assumes, more intelligently than ever before, the form of Christian healing. This is the babe we are to cherish. This is the babe that twines its loving arms about the neck of omnipotence, and calls forth infinite care from His loving heart.”

Camp's "Magic"

Dear Michael,

I have been thinking more about what makes summers at the Adventure Unlimited Ranches seem so magical, why no one leaves camp the same person as when he or she came. I was recently reading "Miscellaneous Writings" (by Mary Baker Eddy) and got my first clue: "...let us say of the beauties of the sensuous universe, 'I love your promise;' and shall know, some time, the spiritual reality and substance of form, light, and color, of what I now through you discern dimly; and knowing this, I shall
be satisfied." That promise is so evident, so inescapable here in the mountains. The surrounding beauty sings of God's presence and like a catchy tune keeps echoing in thought throughout the day.

And at A/U, as at all the Christian Science camps, inspiration is "in." There is an irresitable, refreshing expectation of spiritual growth. I found my second clue in "Science and Health" (also by Eddy), "...expectation speeds our progress."

I also know that the staff here at camp, the parents of campers, as well as the campers themselves are actively praying for camp--for our individual and collective experiences. I've been waking up between 4 and 5 in the morning to find my consciousness so filled with such clear purposeful prayers--prayers that join the mountains in celebrating God's allness. For a night owl, who normally just doesn't function before 7, these now eagerly welcomed sunrise moments are in themselves miracles.

I can’t wait to have you join me next session as a bunkhouse parent. In thinking about our time together, a line from a Mary Baker Eddy's poem "Love" came to thought, “like brother birds that soar and sing and on the same branch bend…” God is supplying the thermals. The camp songs are abundant. There’s “magic” in the air. I know you and Lincoln will love A/U!

See you soon! With hugs and kisses eager to be delivered in person,

Your Maria

"The Law of Kindness"

Dear Jeff,

Just over a week ago, I was busy putting the finishing touches on packing the family for our various camping experiences. Mike and Lincoln were preparing to head south to one camp and Heidi and I west to another. Suitcases, duffle bags, and backpacks lined the living room waiting to be put into cars, but mentally I was far from ready to go. I was so tired physically and emotionally that the drive to camp seemed as daunting as the thought of peaking one of the 14,000 foot mountains surrounding camp. I knew Heidi would be a good traveling companion, but she couldn’t help with the actual driving; and she was so excited about camp I could tell it would be hard to keep pace with her happy chatter. I realized that I had to humbly put the trip in God’s hands and asked a friend to help me pray about the drive.

I should know by now that when I let go of fear and completely trust God, amazing things happen. However, you took me completely by surprise when you told me you’d bought a one-way plane ticket back from camp so that you could drive out with me. True you’d get to see your wife—the love of your life who just also happened to be at camp, but only for one short night. The main reason you were making the trip was out of a deep love for my family, a brotherly “being there for you.” What a weight you lifted off my shoulders! When I went to bed that night I was exhausted, yet filled with hope. I’m not an early riser. For me getting out of bed before 7 am is early, but I awoke at 4:40 the next morning without the alarm clock, awake and ready to go. As we drove, the miles and hours flew by. I loved having someone to share the driving with, having you join me in appreciating Heidi’s exuberance, talking about life and listening to all the CDs you brought along—wonderful artists I’d never heard before.

Not a day has passed when I haven’t thought of your kindness. It has been a beacon of Love helping me settle in and find my niche at camp, helping melt away the concerns that seemed so burdensome before our trip, and giving me such tangible proof of God's care to draw upon.

Yet for days I’ve sensed that there was more to this story—a bigger lesson for me to learn. I was so struck by your kindness. My family has individually and collectively received very unselfish and generous gifts before, so I’ve wondered why this gift has left me somewhat speechless, why it has taken me so many attempts to write this letter. Last night I thought of Mary anointing Jesus’ feet with expensive ointment. Judas suggested that Mary should have sold the ointment instead and given the money to the poor. Jesus replied, “Let her alone: against the day of my burying hath she kept this. For the poor always ye have with you; but me ye have not always had." (John 12) Suddenly I glimpsed how much Mary’s expression of love must have meant to Jesus, helping strengthen him for the crucifixion. Even Jesus needed human expressions of kindness!

A hymn in the Christian Science hymnal (#178) says, “Jesus knew the law of kindness, healing mind and heart of blindness….” I probably could have “demonstrated” the drive out alone. There have been many times in my life when moment by moment reliance on God has pulled me through fatigue and other difficulties, but one more proof of this type wasn’t my true need. I needed to feel the effects of God’s law of kindness. My heart was unknowingly so hungry for it. I’ve had the opportunity to give significant gifts and enjoyed the satisfaction that comes from helping meet someone’s need, but now I understand in a much deeper way what it feels like to be the receiver---the warmth in the heart, the awe at the power of Love. There was something so pure, so intuitive, so timely about your gift. I too want to practice the law of kindness that heals, to give gifts both practical and prayerful that are so imbued with love that their healing balm sends ripples into the universe.

By the way, yesterday Heidi and 17 fellow campers peaked Mount Columbia—one of Colorado’s amazing 14,000 foot peaks. Although usually not very athletic, she knew she’d be able to do it with the help of her friends, with the oil of kindness.

Mike and I both are so grateful for your friendship. Thank you for being an exemplary Mary.

With love,

Maria

Inspired and Inspiring

Hello World,

My fourteen year-old daughter Heidi is an inspiration to me. She is moulding who I am as much as my mothering may influence her (if not more so). It is I who have followed her lead on becoming a vegetarian, in making fashion choices, in being more forgiving. She thinks deeply and spiritually. So, look out! She is going to change the world. In some ways she already has.

Heidi recently submitted an article to the Christian Science Publishing Society. Since they decided not to print it, I have her permission to post it here. Enjoy!

With love,
Maria

Pen One With Love, Despite Writer’s Block
by Heidi

I recently had an assignment to write an inspirational article. Two days before it was due, I had part of the article written, but my heart was not in the writing and the whole thing seemed extremely superficial. For days I had put off working on it, feeling a stubborn sense of writer’s block, and once or twice crying because I didn’t know how to make the article feel “real.” My mom finally said that if I didn’t finish the article, I couldn’t go to Six Flags with my friends the next day.

I was desperate for everything to work out, but I didn’t know what or how to do it. I wanted so badly for this article to be perfect, for people to see it and think, "Wow, that is really good." I wanted the others in the group to be impressed by me.

I was crying in confusion again about the article and what I was going to do--how it all had to be perfect. My mom had me call a Christian Science practitioner, and while she gave me some ideas and agreed to pray for me about the article, I hung up the phone feeling even more hopeless. Now there was yet another person I would disappoint if this wasn’t an amazing article.

At this point, I was quite hysterical. I sat in front of the blank computer screen screaming at God to help me. I was trying to calm myself, but I only felt helplessness. I kept yelling prayers that I have learned from Sunday School, but I have said them so many times that they felt almost meaningless.

I was shaking uncontrollably when my golden retriever, Bogie, walked in the door wagging his tail. I collapsed onto him, clinging onto his fur with all my might. For a few minutes I just sobbed into his warm coat, as he stood there patiently, with a calm peace almost uncharacteristic for him.

I felt God in Bogie just then. I felt that all really was well, and no matter what I wrote for the article it wouldn’t matter what people thought. "If Love is at all present, it is all that is present," is another thought that ran through my head, and I had to smile at how true that was. Bogie was expressing so much joy and comfort. I felt so much love and gratitude in that moment. Bogie knew that Love was here. It occurred to me that I could just love what I have to write, too.

I remembered a quick healing of food poisoning I had when the same practitioner asked me, “How do you feel about Bogie?” I had responded by telling her how much I loved him. She said something along the lines of, “So you feel good about him. If you can feel that goodness and you can feel that love for Bogie, then that is all you can feel and know in every other aspect of your life. God good does not pick and choose where goodness and love are going to be. The all-knowing only knows how to be All-in-all, not All-in-some (part of your life) or Part (of God) in-all. But All-in-all. Since there is only one measure of God, good.... and that is infinite, allness, if God is at all present in your life, He is all-present.” This thought came to my mind again as I buried my head in Bogie’s chest. I knew that God had a plan and it was going to work out.

A sudden wave of joy and peace came over me, and I started yelling again, only this time it was, “Thank you, thank you God.” I had an answer. It didn’t matter if I didn’t know what I was going to write just yet. Nothing had to be humanly perfect. I didn’t need to fear. God really did speak to me then. In that instant, I felt completely healed of any anxiety I had regarding the project, and of any sense of hysteria. Suddenly, I knew what I wanted to write about; I felt it and I loved it. Bogie licked me one more time, then walked out of the room, still wagging his tail. His work was done.

With that new sense of peace, gratitude and excitement that I had all I needed, that God really had spoken to me and it was not superficial in any way, I began to write. I felt God’s presence more than I had in a long, long time. When I was done with the article, I knew it was not perfect, but that was ok. The true thought behind it and the love I felt would show through, and that was all that mattered. I didn’t need to worry about being judged; I felt good about what God had led me to write, and so wonderfully at peace about the whole situation.

That love, peace, and inspiration from God and through Bogie has been such a blessing and turning point for me. Thank you Bogie, and thank you God.

"Flood-tides of Love"

Dear Michael,

I really enjoyed reading the beginning of "Christian Science Practice" with you last night (one of my favorite chapters in Mary Baker Eddy's Science and Health with key to the Scriptures). As we read, I was reminded me of one the most wonderful healings I've ever witnessed. It occurred when I was a senior counselor at Cedars Camps--I think it was the summer that we were there together (when we baked cookies on our day off, and you embarrassed me by singing "I just met a girl named Maria" in the shower). I was in charge of the Bobolink cabin--home to energetic nine-year olds. One Sunday afternoon, a little girl was dropped off by her parents with a long list of things they didn't think she would be able to do--ride horses, play running games, sleep on the top bunk. Casey struggled with asthma, and it seemed like the next two weeks were indeed going to be very trying for her--breathing was difficult and getting her to sleep that first night took time, prayer and lots of hymn singing.

The next morning we went to visit Marjorie at PAL house. (PAL stands for "Practitioner's Are Loving.") Wasn't it wonderful to have a Christian Science practitioner on site to help pray with campers and counselors when needed! Marjorie agreed to pray for Casey and referred me to Science and Health where it says, "The way to extract error from mortal mind is to pour in truth through flood-tides of Love." And, "The tender word and Christian encouragement of an invalid, pitiful patience with his fears and the removal of them, are better than hecatombs of gushing theories, stereotyped borrowed speeches, and the doling of arguments, which are but so many parodies on legitimate Christian Science, aflame with divine Love." (We read this second quote last night.) With her prayers, Marjorie would be pouring in the truth--affirming Casey's unlimited abilities as God's daughter. My job was to help with the "flood-tides of love" and "pitiful patience" with Casey's many many fears.

All the counselors and even Casey's cabin mates helped pour in the love. Her friends so naturally and patiently encouraged her to participate in camp activities. Horseback riding seemed to be Casey's biggest fear. I wondered if we'd ever get her to the corral. She simply refused to even consider getting on a horse. Looking forward to some quiet time alone in the cabin, I asked "What do we do now God?" The idea came to use my period off to go horseback riding with Casey--a shower and nap could wait. Casey agreed to give it a try; and the ride was a turing point in her experience. Nights got easier, and she actively participated in games, dances, and campouts. At the end of the session, Casey rode solo in the horse show, was sleeping soundly on the top bunk, and all traces of asthma were completely gone--washed away by prayer and those sparkling, purifying "flood-tides of Love."

So, dear husband, as we pack this week for our upcoming camp adventures, I want to remember to put "pitiful patience" and "flood-tides of Love" on top of the long underwear, water bottles, and sleeping bags--on top and ready to pull out and put to immediate, moment by moment use. And, this time around, it's OK by me if you sing in the shower.

I love you! Hugs and kisses,
Maria

Compassion on My Humanity

Dear Kate,

Tonight my life was written in the cards, the cards in Apples to Apples Junior that is. We sometimes pretend that the cards we win in this game describe us. While my family was gathering cards praising them as amazing, talented, bright, entertaining and gentle, my hand was "fearful, sneaky, frail, plain and gigantic" (which of course I took to mean my dress size). In many ways, the last few weeks have been tough, and the cards seemed to say it all. However, as we continued playing and laughing, I warmed up to the game, and the cards began to even out. One of my last cards was "playful" --a fitting affirmation of the happy togetherness we were all enjoying.

Summer is always interesting in our home as we get used to all being under the same roof for long stretches of time, jostling play dates, trying to complete final projects at work, cleaning up from Heidi's yummy but messy cooking spurts (it's not all her fault--our kitchen is tiny), and trying to get organized for camp--the four weeks this summer that hold such promise of adventure, joy and unselfed love. For awhile I was feeling guilty because I was so hungry for a break. Then I remembered that as much as I've loved my new job, it is the first time in over 14 years that I've worked full-time. I used to believe that I was a good multitasker, but there were times at work this year when I felt so disorganized; yet it occured to me yesterday that in previous jobs my tasks were usually related (such as pieces of the search process when I worked in Human Resources), but this year my projects have been very diverse and were often done in brand new ways for the school (not just me)--like adopting an electronic box office and creating a campus-wide master calendar in Outlook.

Your blog today about camp, Stone River Reflections: Feels Like Home to Me, made me cry. The best self you describe finding each summer seems to be playing hide and seek with me these days. Sometimes the search for it has been exasperating, but I haven't given up. As I read your blog, I was wrapping up another day at work with projects I'd expected to finish still incomplete. That best self was once again eluding me. I sooo hoped that I too would find it in an enduring way at camp. Perhaps this hope, this simple desire, truly was a prayer. I soon felt God telling me, "You've really done OK this year. Don't hold the last few weeks against yourself. You did find that best self at camp last summer, and for the most part kept it at the forefront all year. There have even been some brights spots in the last few weeks. Hang in there; I'll help you. Camp is coming soon. Have compassion on your humanity."

"Have compassion on your humanity" is an idea I came across many years ago; it might have even been in something you wrote. I've been so grateful for those words of wisdom. Feeling compassion for myself has helped me keep going the past few days--helped me move from "fearful" to "playful." This compassion has been a moment to moment choice to stop seeing shortcomings and instead to recognize and celebrate all the little ways God does express himself as Maria. It's clearly an ongoing adventure.

So, save a seat for me and my best self by the lake! We'll see you in a few weeks!

Hugs and love,
Maria

Papa's Love

Dear Papa,

I used to tease Michael that you kissed me before he did, but that’s really no fault of his. My then Victorian heart was determined not to kiss a boyfriend unless I considered him a serious prospect for marriage. So, your peck on the cheek came long before I allowed my first kiss from Michael (fortunately he's a very patient guy!).

Your welcoming hugs and kisses are just one example of your outreaching love—a love that was willing to be Santa for Rotary events (in spite of the fact that it must have taken 2 or 3 pillows to make your toothpick frame even begin to resemble the roly-poly Kris Kringle), a love that volunteered your pick-up truck to help deliver donations of canned goods to the neighborhood food pantry, a love that also regularly would visit and read to people at a nursing facility.

You and Mom made me feel like a welcome member of the clan even before Michael and I were married. Thank you both for also befriending my parents, for not just including them in family events out of politeness, but genuine care. A special thanks for helping host their 25th wedding anniversary party at your home years ago. It’s hard to believe that Michael and I will be celebrating 23 and a half years of marriage tomorrow, but look at you two. You’re going on number 53! What a great example for us all!

Papa, you also have wonderfully modeled a balanced lifestyle. Time with your family has always been part of your definition of success. All three of your sons are great dads. (I knew Mike would be; it’s one of the reasons I married him.) You also shared with your boys your love of God. Church and prayer have remained an important part of their lives. Like you, they are hard-working men, independent thinkers, desiring to serve and bless, and understanding the importance of home as the center of the affections.

I know things haven’t been easy for you the past six years. After a very active life, which even included running marathons for a while, I can’t image what it must be like to depend upon a wheel chair to get around and to be limited in your speech. While I know there are days when both you and Mom get frustrated, on the whole you two have expressed so much courage, joy and faith. I’ve heard so many people compliment your good spirits. Just as you were a strong support to Mom when she faced a difficult physical challenge years ago, she has so selflessly stood by your side--both of you faithfully fulfilling your promise to love “in sickness and in health.” Your individual and joint expressions of grace are awesome.

If my own mom and dad were here today, I know they would join me in thanking you for cherishing (truly grand parenting) our family. Your heart clearly pours out love. I continue to celebrate your standing up in church recently and testifying to God’s presence in your life. Even if only a few of the words were distinguishable, everyone heard your heart. You ARE an amazing man.

Happy Father’s Day Papa!

With gratitude and love,
Your daughter-in-law Maria

Awake and Centered

Dear Cousin,

I love our dialogs about healing! Recently, you mentioned that in one of his books, Catholic scholar John Dominic Crossen suggests that when Jesus was accused of casting out a demon by Beelzebub either he or his subject was in a trance. I was intrigued by your related question, “From your observation do you think that in Christian Science healing a very centered, quiet (connected) mind is part of healing for either the practitioner or the patient or both?”

At first I thought the question was going to be hard to answer, but surprisingly it wasn’t. I must preface my answer by saying that I am answering only from my personal perspective and limited experience as a healer--for someone else it may look and feel completely different. I find that the state of mind in which the most healing takes place, both for me as a patient and as a practitioner, is almost the exact opposite of a trance. Rather, I feel very much awake, alert and in tune with my surroundings, even if a short time before I was completely exhausted. When I truly enter the heart of prayer, I become acutely aware of God's presence in every thing, situation, and thought around me. I think I've shared with you my experience of God feeling "so there" at a pop concert and this being a turning point in a healing (see my May 5th blog “Bows of Promise”). Yes, my thought did become really centered, as in focused on witnessing and expressing only God's love, but not in any meditative sense. I'm not sure it was even something I was aware of doing at the time.

However, the conscious process of becoming mentally and physically centered and quiet can be a useful exercise, quieting fears and getting thought headed in the right direction--using the letter to help lead one to the spirit. I believe Jesus sometimes used various human methods in his healing work in response to where his audience was in their spirituality--what they were ready to accept: putting clay on the blind man's eyes, causing demons to enter swine and drown themselves. Perhaps this was so the people wouldn't be afraid that the demons were running around looking for other bodies to enter. Maybe Crossen’s perceived trance was a similar concession--just wild guesses. I think thought is always quieted and becomes more awake to our unbreakable connection to Mind in the healing "process." For the patient especially, this may be more an effect of healing rather than a cause of healing.

I'm generally a "pray as you go and on the go" person; however, there was a time last week when I could tell I needed to just take some time to put on the brakes, get quiet and pray. The previous two weeks had been extremely full. I helped coordinate many of our high school’s graduation events immediately followed by teacher in-services. Heidi graduated from Middle School and headed off to a youth meeting in Boston, and Michael made two trips out of town including a Cub Scout camping trip with Lincoln. Professionally, I thrive when things are busy. I especially enjoyed graduation week because God’s timely hand in the details was so evident; however, by last Tuesday I was a zombie. It wasn’t so much the activities that had finally caught up with me, but everything else. Mentally there were health challenges to face, intuitions to pray over, confidences shared to cherish, and dilemmas to be worked through. These issues clamored for attention, completely preoccupying my thought. I decided to take Wednesday morning off from work for extra rest and prayer time. As the hour I should be at work rapidly approached, I still felt tired and stressed. My mental exercises in the name of prayer weren’t getting me very far. Only when I was willing to take my thought in a totally different direction did I began to get the truly invigorating answers I needed. Instead of trying to pray about each problem, I prayerfully explored a friend’s kind reminder that God continually gives me all the inspiration, direction, energy and concentration I need to do whatever task is at hand. As I cherished my God-insured ability to do the work before me (became awake to God’s doings) the fatigue disappeared. Even though all the personal issues hadn't been resolved, they no longer weighed upon my thought. I actually got to work sooner than expected and had a very productive finish to the week.

So I guess in this case, I did set aside time and made a conscious effort to quiet my thinking. However, only as I was willing to stop efforts to steer my thought or meditate on certain “truths,” did I get the inspiration needed to transform my experience.

I look forward to hearing more about your perspective on this topic!

With love,
Maria

Postscript: My morning at home made me think of the 23rd Psalm, "He restoreth my soul: he leadeth me in the paths of righteousness..." In "The Message" this phrase is translated, "you let me catch my breath and send me in the right direction."

You made a difference!

Dear Katie,

As I write this you are probably still on the campus green, wearing your white graduation gown, enjoying pastries and punch, visiting with family and friends, and beaming with a smile as big as the Cheshire Cat's. I'm so glad I got to be at your graduation this morning. The speaker talked about how the Class of 2007 will not only make a difference in the future, but has done so already just by the way they've lived their lives. Her comments made me think of you.

Before going to camp last summer as a rookie bunkhouse mom, I spent several months praying about my unknown cabin--rejoicing that God would put each person in their right place. I knew that God would make sure everyone came with everything needed to flourish--not just socks and waterbottles, but the courage, health, joy and other qualities which would help them give, grow, and have fun. I was thinking mostly about the campers, but I now have no doubt that the fruits of my prayers put me in Cabin J with you, Eva and Mary Beth. Over the next two weeks as I listened to you tell bedtime stories to our third-graders about their adventures as princesses, as I joined you in singing our girls to sleep with hymns in four part harmony, and as I laughed so hard I cried while eating M&M's and joking with you and other counselors under the stars, I began to discover parts of myself that I hardly new existed. You helped me realize that I am a fun, somewhat "with it" person. Just by sharing your joyful friendship, you gave me the courage to apply for my current job where I interact with high schoolers on a regular basis--you gave me hope that teenagers would actually accept and maybe even like me.

I've really enjoyed working in the Head of School's office this year. I never thought there could be a job I liked as much as being a camp counselor, but I think I've found one. As you and your 62 classmates walked across the stage today, I knew almost every one of you by name. In one way or another each member of your class has crossed my path this year--some merely as names, but most as friends. I've had so much fun watching your lights shine, encouraging me by your examples to live my own life to the fullest now.

I love how every time I saw you in the hall or school lobby you had a smile for me, the fun way you'd say "Maria" with a Spanish flair, how your kindness let me know that I had a special friend nearby if ever needed. You have a wonderful way of making others feel comfortable, loved and special. We never did make it out for ice cream this year, but I have no doubt our paths will cross again, and then I owe you a hot fudge sundae or two.

Thank you Katie for making a difference in my life. Congratulation on your graduation!

Hugs, best wishes and so much love,
Maria

God's Plan Can't Be Stopped

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).

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….”

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