I remember writing a friend one Saturday afternoon last year and, with a sigh, calling laundry “the story of my life.” She knew my weekend missives all too well: “Hi there, I’m just taking a break from folding laundry...(chit chat)…Well, I better get back to the basket of darks. With love, Maria.”
After a few weeks of living in Costa Rica, I realized how hard it would be if I had to work full time and live here in Monteverde—it takes time to walk everywhere and do so many more things manually. Many things (such as appliances and packaged foods) that I used to consider necessities or staples in the States are uncommon here. It dawned on me more clearly than ever before how on one hand, I worked to be able to purchase these various conveniences, but on the other hand, it was those very things which, in many ways, made it possible for me to work and still have time for other activities…including sleep.
Laundry is a good example. In St. Louis, I would often start a load of laundry in the washing machine before going to work in the morning, toss it into the dryer at lunchtime, and then some time in the evening carefully lay it in a laundry basket to be folded and put away on the weekend.
Typical Costa Rican washers aren’t automatic. You have to manually turn the water on and off, flip a switch to drain the water after each cycle, put the laundry in a separate tub to spin the water out (like the swimsuit dryers at recreation centers), and then hang the laundry on the clothesline, turning it upside down and back and forth throughout the morning trying to get it dry before the first rain shower of the day. Fortunately we also have a covered porch where we can continue the drying process if needed. Most people living in Costa Rica don’t have dryers—the cost of electricity is prohibitive. If you do have one, you try to dry the clothes after 8 p.m. when the price of electricity is less and then only use it if, after a day or two on the clothesline, your towels and jeans still aren’t dry. Right now the spinner on our washer isn’t working, but I ceased complaining about having to wring out laundry by hand (it’s a good way to strengthen arm muscles) after a trip to Nicaragua the first weekend in October.
Since we are here on tourist visas, we have to leave the country for 72 hours every 90 days. We left the house at 4:00 Thursday morning to catch the bus to Nicaragua. It was the first time we had ventured to a third world country. The point of entry area was surrounded by people selling inexpensive food, hammocks, and pirated DVD’s, as well as children, the elderly, and handicapped begging for money. Their persistent requests as we waited in line for customs were difficult to handle emotionally, and we wished we had brought more coins or small bills to share.
Not too far from the border, we took a ferry across Lake Nicaragua (the 11th largest lake in the world) to the Island of Ometepe. 40,000 people live on the island which is laid out like a figure eight around two volcanoes. Our hostess at the hotel told us that the people on the island are cash poor but not hungry. Families are able to grow fruits and vegetables and have animals for eggs, milk, and meat. But, very few jobs are available, and those people who have them don’t earn much. Apparently the average annual (yes annual) income in Nicaragua is $600 (as compared to $500 a month in Costa Rica). Nicaraguans will work 10-12 hour days, 6 days a week, for eight and a half cents an hour. Yet, our experience showed that these are kind and happy people.
On Friday, a taxi driver took us around the island in his beat up jeep showing us the sites and waiting while we swam on various Ozark-like beaches. Years from now, however, it’s not the beaches I’ll remember but the slices of life we saw driving from place to place—the groups of children walking to and from school, the young men (some just boys) herding cows down the street on bicycles or scrawny ponies, the oxcarts hauling firewood (while most houses have electricity, it is only for lights; most people still use wood stoves for cooking), pigs and chickens everywhere (including in the living rooms of houses—all of which had their doors open for ventilation on the very warm afternoon), and, perhaps most moving to me, the women up to their waists in water washing laundry by hand in the river or lake.
We returned from Nicaragua on Sunday, and the following Friday, Heidi and I made a trip to the United States. While in St. Louis, I enjoyed being with family and friends, but I often felt frenzied and ungrounded as I did endless errands. I had quite a long list of things to buy, not only for ourselves, but for others too—a list that took me to two different malls, three groceries stores, Toys R Us, Alpine Shop, Sports Authority, Home Depot, Target, Blockbuster Video, Petsmart, our vet, and the new Walmart SuperCenter. Talk about culture shock! I think every square foot of retail space in the Santa Elena/Monteverde area could fit inside the Walmart…twice over.
The contrast between Nicaragua and West County St. Louis was arresting and further stirred paradigms had been struggling with for quite a while. Even though I feel our family’s year in Costa Rica is God-impelled, I don’t think a week has gone by since the idea surfaced when I haven’t wrestled with feeling a bit guilty (OK sometimes very guilty…and concerned) about spending our savings on this experience. (We may be helping our kids pay back college loans for a long time.) However, after our time in Nicaragua, I was even more keenly aware that simply being able to make the choice to be here (a choice on how we spend our money) is in itself a luxury.
I don’t have all (in fact hardly any) of the answers yet, but gratefully I’m beginning to work through some of the issues swirling in thought and reconnect with an inner peace. I have a rekindled faith that moment by moment God will show us how “to be,” how to live with integrity and love.
My “sisters” scrubbing clothes in Lake Nicaragua are never far from thought as I do my daily chores. Next time you do laundry, think of the women (and men) all over the world in lakes, rivers, laundromats, houses, and apartments who, whatever their lot, are doing their best to live not only with clean clothes but, perhaps more importantly, with joy and grace. This new sense of universal sister/brotherhood means a lot to me today and gives me hope.
Happy washing!
Tuesday, November 03, 2009
Saturday, September 12, 2009
Memories and Markets
Our life has begun to settle down in right and needed ways this week. On Monday, Heidi transferred to the Monteverde Quaker Friends School (MFS). It’s a much better fit for her academically and socially. She came home from school the first day genuinely delighted to have homework again.
Wednesday was Children’s Day in Costa Rica, and both kids’ schools had special activities. At MFS, they divided the students up into multi-grade teams for games and other activities. I was a great way for Heidi to meet younger schoolmates; she was quickly taken under wing by two little girls who painted her face (purple eyebrows, a beard, rainbow and hearts) and who now get daily piggy back rides.
Lincoln and Michael have been busy getting ready for the September 15th Central American Independence Day parade. The Cloud Forest School will be marching with drums, bells, a couple of guitars, an accordion and two brass players. Guess who?
Friday morning Michael, Heidi and I attended a gathering in memory of our friend Rachel Crandell. Rachel was Heidi’s second grade teacher at Principia, and she and her husband were founders of the United States chapter of the Monteverde Conservation League (MCL). The memorial sharing at Mother’s Garden in the Children’s Eternal Rain Forest (BEN) was a wonderful celebration of a woman whose life showed over and over again that one person can indeed make a difference. There were just over 30 people present many of whom spontaneously spoke about Rachel—her friendship, her spirituality, her work in recording stories of the Mayan and Embera people, and her endless efforts to expand and revitalize the BEN. Mike’s contribution included singing a contemporary arrangement of the hymn “Gracious Spirit Dwell with Me.” Comments were translated into either English or Spanish, making it a bilingual event filled with a sweet spirit of brotherhood. Blue morpho butterflies came to bless the occasion with their eloquent silence; and howler monkeys, although hidden from view, voiced their appreciation for the home Rachel had helped preserve for them. At the end, a tree was planted in Rachel’s honor; and after walking back up to the Nature Center, everyone enjoyed delicious brownies with mint chocolate frosting (reminiscent of Rachel’s favorite Girl Scout cookies).
Today also was a blessed day. Every Saturday morning there is a farmer’s market in the Santa Elena high school gymnasium. Lincoln and I made the walk in together, arriving about 9:45. We were too late for good avocados or mangos, but we filled our big beach bag with green beans, broccoli, hydroponically grown lettuce (50 cents a head), bananas (6 cents each), a pepper, potatoes, zucchini, and a cucumber. Market is a community event filled with happy handshakes and kisses on the cheek (a greeting indicating acceptance in Costa Rica). We always run into friends from our schools or Quaker meeting. Today our neighbor Sara was there, and hallelujah, she was willing to take our heavy bag of purchases home in her car.
Grateful to have our load lightened, Lincoln and I went on to the Super Compro to get the rest of our groceries. We turned down an aisle, and Sara was there too! Not only did Sara again provide transport for our purchases, but she also helped me understand the sale signs. This week’s specials included buy one Kellogg’s cereal and get the second at 75% off (making each box close in price to what we pay in the US). So, for the first time in over two months, Lincoln will get to enjoy Zucharitas (Frosted Flakes) for breakfast.
Our next stop was the vet to buy rain boots for Lincoln (yes, the veterinarian is also a boot store). We got the last pair in his size. (We’ve had some good foretastes of the rainy season this week, and I’m happy to report that my rain pants, coat and boots kept me dry during a 25 minute trek in a yesterday’s 4 hour downpour.) A bilingual friend was there, and it occurred to me to see if she could help me place a special order for Bogie’s dog food. We had hauled 60 pounds of Science Diet up from San Jose in July, but it will run out soon. Thanks to Veronica, a large bag of food will arrive for us on Wednesday.
Then, just as we were about to head up the long hill home, I remembered that we needed to get a white shirt for Michael to wear in the parade on Monday. Three stores later, I had found one—a little large, but it will work. I was grateful to have been successful with our purchases, so glad not to be carrying them all home on my back, and happy to have Lincoln’s good natured companionship.
Today has been good for Bogie too. On our afternoon walk, he got to play with a friend’s two dogs. He even has an invitation to come back again tomorrow.
This evening, Mike and I sent Heidi and Lincoln off to the movies—a James Bond double feature shown in a tiny auditorium near the Bat Jungle (a really cool place to visit). The popcorn is free.
Mike just finished making chocolate cookies, and as you can see, I’ve been enjoying writing. It’s nice to have life feel good. Yeah!
Wednesday was Children’s Day in Costa Rica, and both kids’ schools had special activities. At MFS, they divided the students up into multi-grade teams for games and other activities. I was a great way for Heidi to meet younger schoolmates; she was quickly taken under wing by two little girls who painted her face (purple eyebrows, a beard, rainbow and hearts) and who now get daily piggy back rides.
Lincoln and Michael have been busy getting ready for the September 15th Central American Independence Day parade. The Cloud Forest School will be marching with drums, bells, a couple of guitars, an accordion and two brass players. Guess who?
Friday morning Michael, Heidi and I attended a gathering in memory of our friend Rachel Crandell. Rachel was Heidi’s second grade teacher at Principia, and she and her husband were founders of the United States chapter of the Monteverde Conservation League (MCL). The memorial sharing at Mother’s Garden in the Children’s Eternal Rain Forest (BEN) was a wonderful celebration of a woman whose life showed over and over again that one person can indeed make a difference. There were just over 30 people present many of whom spontaneously spoke about Rachel—her friendship, her spirituality, her work in recording stories of the Mayan and Embera people, and her endless efforts to expand and revitalize the BEN. Mike’s contribution included singing a contemporary arrangement of the hymn “Gracious Spirit Dwell with Me.” Comments were translated into either English or Spanish, making it a bilingual event filled with a sweet spirit of brotherhood. Blue morpho butterflies came to bless the occasion with their eloquent silence; and howler monkeys, although hidden from view, voiced their appreciation for the home Rachel had helped preserve for them. At the end, a tree was planted in Rachel’s honor; and after walking back up to the Nature Center, everyone enjoyed delicious brownies with mint chocolate frosting (reminiscent of Rachel’s favorite Girl Scout cookies).
Today also was a blessed day. Every Saturday morning there is a farmer’s market in the Santa Elena high school gymnasium. Lincoln and I made the walk in together, arriving about 9:45. We were too late for good avocados or mangos, but we filled our big beach bag with green beans, broccoli, hydroponically grown lettuce (50 cents a head), bananas (6 cents each), a pepper, potatoes, zucchini, and a cucumber. Market is a community event filled with happy handshakes and kisses on the cheek (a greeting indicating acceptance in Costa Rica). We always run into friends from our schools or Quaker meeting. Today our neighbor Sara was there, and hallelujah, she was willing to take our heavy bag of purchases home in her car.
Grateful to have our load lightened, Lincoln and I went on to the Super Compro to get the rest of our groceries. We turned down an aisle, and Sara was there too! Not only did Sara again provide transport for our purchases, but she also helped me understand the sale signs. This week’s specials included buy one Kellogg’s cereal and get the second at 75% off (making each box close in price to what we pay in the US). So, for the first time in over two months, Lincoln will get to enjoy Zucharitas (Frosted Flakes) for breakfast.
Our next stop was the vet to buy rain boots for Lincoln (yes, the veterinarian is also a boot store). We got the last pair in his size. (We’ve had some good foretastes of the rainy season this week, and I’m happy to report that my rain pants, coat and boots kept me dry during a 25 minute trek in a yesterday’s 4 hour downpour.) A bilingual friend was there, and it occurred to me to see if she could help me place a special order for Bogie’s dog food. We had hauled 60 pounds of Science Diet up from San Jose in July, but it will run out soon. Thanks to Veronica, a large bag of food will arrive for us on Wednesday.
Then, just as we were about to head up the long hill home, I remembered that we needed to get a white shirt for Michael to wear in the parade on Monday. Three stores later, I had found one—a little large, but it will work. I was grateful to have been successful with our purchases, so glad not to be carrying them all home on my back, and happy to have Lincoln’s good natured companionship.
Today has been good for Bogie too. On our afternoon walk, he got to play with a friend’s two dogs. He even has an invitation to come back again tomorrow.
This evening, Mike and I sent Heidi and Lincoln off to the movies—a James Bond double feature shown in a tiny auditorium near the Bat Jungle (a really cool place to visit). The popcorn is free.
Mike just finished making chocolate cookies, and as you can see, I’ve been enjoying writing. It’s nice to have life feel good. Yeah!
Monday, August 24, 2009
Bumps in the Road
The kilometers covered walking around Monteverde fall more easily under my feet now. Seven weeks without a car have helped me get in much better shape. There are several hills that will never be easy (and which must regularly be traveled), but the walk to my Monday morning yoga class, which in the beginning brought exhaustion, is now pleasant thinking time without complaints from my body.
Today as I walked, my thought wandered first to Bogie and then to things I’m learning about life. We’ve all had challenges here in Costa Rica, the pets included. Bogie has had to have a cone around his head recently so that a wound on his leg can heal, and this morning I was thinking about the beautiful new pale pink skin appearing as scabs fall off. I’ve been told that old cells in our body are regularly replaced by new ones so that literally the body I have today won’t be the same as the one I have when we return to St. Louis in June or July. I suspect I’ll actually look a little different too--a few pounds lighter, skin a bit tanner. But I wonder how many people will notice that every cell of my soul is also new—a renewal process that I can already feel happening (and that I sometimes balk at).
When people asked me if I was planning to blog regularly this year, I refused to make a commitment sensing that this experience was going to be at times a bit messy as I thought through paradigms and spent time in self-examination, that it was going to be about so much more than white-faced monkeys and toucans…about things hard to put on paper. And this has indeed been the case. Looking at the months and seasons that still lie ahead (with weeks of incessant rain coming soon), I can only hope that some of the mental miles will gradually fall more easily underfoot too.
The first month here, Heidi, Lincoln, and Mike were involved in a production of the musical "Urine Town" and my time focused on figuring out daily life—how to make the showers and washing machine work, where to get online, finding good things to eat, etc. When school started three weeks ago, a different reality started to settle in. I realized how much my sense of purpose, community, and identity felt linked to my job. While Mike is having a blast with more volunteer options at his feet than he can take on, finding a niche for myself (i.e. feeling satisfied and purposeful) is proving to be a bit more challenging.
The start of school has been hard for Heidi and Lincoln as well. We’ve realized that when their current school talks about it academics, it is comparing itself to the average US public school, and neither Principia nor Crossroads is average, so their classes haven’t been very challenging; and language and cultural differences have made friendships harder than imagined.
There have been several occasions for me, Heidi, and Lincoln, when if we had an out--a way to return to St. Louis and the schools/job and friends we love—I think we would have been tempted to abandon ship. Yet, each recommitment to staying here has helped us redefine happiness and realize that we are stronger and braver than we think. We are supporting each other more as a family--playing games, learning to me more compassionate, flexible, and forgiving, and we’ve been awakened to what a privileged life we’ve led as middle class Americans.
Sometimes it is tempting to think that happiness is in Prego spaghetti sauce or Smucker’s strawberry jam. (Sadly, we’ve learned to hoard. We were wisely counseled, “If you find them on the shelf, buy every jar in sight.”) When favorite foods aren’t readily available (or in the budget), dissatisfaction simply can’t be soothed by chocolate or a smoothie run. We recently gained perspective on the food front from a friend of Heidi’s who said he has eaten some form of rice and rehydrated beans every day of his life for 15 years; to him a meal of pasta was a treat.
When fast internet access is a 30-minute walk (at least we finally got a dial up connect at home a week ago), long distance calls cost 35 cents a minute, and SKYPE voice calls break up (forget video), the thought of heaven on earth isn’t a place or adventure, but the opportunity to talk face to face with a friend. The absence of these “tastes” of heaven has helped me realize that happiness has nothing to do with people, places, health, or things—it comes from loving (even if just sitting in a chair beaming prayers) and seeing God’s presence in the little things. However, it is much easier to understand all the lessons being learned in theory than to live them in practice, and sometimes the bugs swept out of the corners of one’s heart (as well as our living room) aren’t pretty to look at.
There may be “miles to go before I sleep” on our comfy St. Louis bed again and many roads less traveled to explore before driving down I-64 from Lambert International Airport, but as I was out walking again later today…stepping around puddles and protruding rocks in the dirt roads…the mental ground felt holy.
So while I could have written about an amazing horseback ride to a cascading river and natural hot springs (the one touristy thing we’ve done), or our wonderful houseguests from Maine (they brought dark chocolate M&M’s and great hugs), it felt important today to share the rough spots. When all is said and done, I think these will be the meat of our experience for me--not just memories but the substance of who I am and become...mi pura vida!
Today as I walked, my thought wandered first to Bogie and then to things I’m learning about life. We’ve all had challenges here in Costa Rica, the pets included. Bogie has had to have a cone around his head recently so that a wound on his leg can heal, and this morning I was thinking about the beautiful new pale pink skin appearing as scabs fall off. I’ve been told that old cells in our body are regularly replaced by new ones so that literally the body I have today won’t be the same as the one I have when we return to St. Louis in June or July. I suspect I’ll actually look a little different too--a few pounds lighter, skin a bit tanner. But I wonder how many people will notice that every cell of my soul is also new—a renewal process that I can already feel happening (and that I sometimes balk at).
When people asked me if I was planning to blog regularly this year, I refused to make a commitment sensing that this experience was going to be at times a bit messy as I thought through paradigms and spent time in self-examination, that it was going to be about so much more than white-faced monkeys and toucans…about things hard to put on paper. And this has indeed been the case. Looking at the months and seasons that still lie ahead (with weeks of incessant rain coming soon), I can only hope that some of the mental miles will gradually fall more easily underfoot too.
The first month here, Heidi, Lincoln, and Mike were involved in a production of the musical "Urine Town" and my time focused on figuring out daily life—how to make the showers and washing machine work, where to get online, finding good things to eat, etc. When school started three weeks ago, a different reality started to settle in. I realized how much my sense of purpose, community, and identity felt linked to my job. While Mike is having a blast with more volunteer options at his feet than he can take on, finding a niche for myself (i.e. feeling satisfied and purposeful) is proving to be a bit more challenging.
The start of school has been hard for Heidi and Lincoln as well. We’ve realized that when their current school talks about it academics, it is comparing itself to the average US public school, and neither Principia nor Crossroads is average, so their classes haven’t been very challenging; and language and cultural differences have made friendships harder than imagined.
There have been several occasions for me, Heidi, and Lincoln, when if we had an out--a way to return to St. Louis and the schools/job and friends we love—I think we would have been tempted to abandon ship. Yet, each recommitment to staying here has helped us redefine happiness and realize that we are stronger and braver than we think. We are supporting each other more as a family--playing games, learning to me more compassionate, flexible, and forgiving, and we’ve been awakened to what a privileged life we’ve led as middle class Americans.
Sometimes it is tempting to think that happiness is in Prego spaghetti sauce or Smucker’s strawberry jam. (Sadly, we’ve learned to hoard. We were wisely counseled, “If you find them on the shelf, buy every jar in sight.”) When favorite foods aren’t readily available (or in the budget), dissatisfaction simply can’t be soothed by chocolate or a smoothie run. We recently gained perspective on the food front from a friend of Heidi’s who said he has eaten some form of rice and rehydrated beans every day of his life for 15 years; to him a meal of pasta was a treat.
When fast internet access is a 30-minute walk (at least we finally got a dial up connect at home a week ago), long distance calls cost 35 cents a minute, and SKYPE voice calls break up (forget video), the thought of heaven on earth isn’t a place or adventure, but the opportunity to talk face to face with a friend. The absence of these “tastes” of heaven has helped me realize that happiness has nothing to do with people, places, health, or things—it comes from loving (even if just sitting in a chair beaming prayers) and seeing God’s presence in the little things. However, it is much easier to understand all the lessons being learned in theory than to live them in practice, and sometimes the bugs swept out of the corners of one’s heart (as well as our living room) aren’t pretty to look at.
There may be “miles to go before I sleep” on our comfy St. Louis bed again and many roads less traveled to explore before driving down I-64 from Lambert International Airport, but as I was out walking again later today…stepping around puddles and protruding rocks in the dirt roads…the mental ground felt holy.
So while I could have written about an amazing horseback ride to a cascading river and natural hot springs (the one touristy thing we’ve done), or our wonderful houseguests from Maine (they brought dark chocolate M&M’s and great hugs), it felt important today to share the rough spots. When all is said and done, I think these will be the meat of our experience for me--not just memories but the substance of who I am and become...mi pura vida!
Monday, July 20, 2009
Blessed Sabbath
The past two Sundays here in Costa Rica, Michael and I have attending Quaker meetings. From where we live, you REALLY have to want to go to church to get there. Unlike in St. Louis where I think nothing about hoping in the car and driving 5-30 minutes to my favorite service, it’s a different story when you have to walk 35 minutes up and down hills in heavy winds, hike over very rocky dirt roads, dodge mud puddles, and are likely to get rained on during at least one leg of the journey. By the time I got to meeting this morning, I was ready to collapse into God’s arms mentally and physically. As I sat down on the pew, that’s exactly what I did.
During the half-hour before meeting, there is a camp style a cappella hymn sing. People pick their favorite songs from two different hymn books (everything from old traditional favorites sung by our grandparents to “Let There Be Peace on Earth” and a few Pete Seeger songs); someone hums a starting note, and the music begins. We thoroughly enjoyed the singing last week.
At 10:30 the hymnals are collected, and the meeting officially begins. The meeting is very simple—approximately 50 minutes of silent prayer. But the atmosphere is profound; it is one of spiritual awareness not drowsiness. Someone may speak during the silence if so moved, but apparently most people save any comments until the last 10 minutes or so, when whoever is running the meeting that day invites “afterthoughts” followed by introductions and community announcements. On the first Sunday of each month there is a potluck.
I’ve struggled this week to feel at home in Costa Rica and have also been a bit ill, which is one reason why getting to meeting this morning felt like an accomplishment in and of itself. The night before, I had been unsure if I would be ready for the trek. We arrived late, and the silent prayer was underway. Across from me, a woman sat yoga-style with her legs crossed on the bench. Her eyes were closed and she a lovely expression of peace and joy on her face. Her serenity made me smile, and my troubles melted.
Then little Odelia (a beautiful blonde toddler) began fidgeting and making noise. Her presence inspired me to pray for the children of the world. The Bible verse, “All thy children shall be taught of the Lord and great shall be the peace of thy children,” became the launch pad for my prayers which quickly expanded to include all mankind as children of God—free from fear or disease of any kind.
It was a lovely holy meeting. We’ll be there in time for hymns next week, but today we were cleaning house for after church company—a potluck for other new “international” families. The kids enjoyed soccer, hacky sack and wii while the adults shared stories of how we all got here and what treasures, challenges, and tips we’ve discovered in our few days here.
I think many of us will share the same Sunday after meeting routine: check out books from the Friends’ (Quaker) Library (today I got Harry Potter and the Half Blood Prince for Heidi and Lincoln to reread before they see the movie and picked out an Alice Hoffman novel for myself) and then stop at the Cheese Factory to pick up dairy products for the week including milk that comes out of a spicket (you bring your own container)—very delicious.
It has been a lovely day of healing, fellowship, new friends, AND on the way home from meeting, I saw three white faced monkeys up in the trees. My first monkeys!
Thank You God for this day.
During the half-hour before meeting, there is a camp style a cappella hymn sing. People pick their favorite songs from two different hymn books (everything from old traditional favorites sung by our grandparents to “Let There Be Peace on Earth” and a few Pete Seeger songs); someone hums a starting note, and the music begins. We thoroughly enjoyed the singing last week.
At 10:30 the hymnals are collected, and the meeting officially begins. The meeting is very simple—approximately 50 minutes of silent prayer. But the atmosphere is profound; it is one of spiritual awareness not drowsiness. Someone may speak during the silence if so moved, but apparently most people save any comments until the last 10 minutes or so, when whoever is running the meeting that day invites “afterthoughts” followed by introductions and community announcements. On the first Sunday of each month there is a potluck.
I’ve struggled this week to feel at home in Costa Rica and have also been a bit ill, which is one reason why getting to meeting this morning felt like an accomplishment in and of itself. The night before, I had been unsure if I would be ready for the trek. We arrived late, and the silent prayer was underway. Across from me, a woman sat yoga-style with her legs crossed on the bench. Her eyes were closed and she a lovely expression of peace and joy on her face. Her serenity made me smile, and my troubles melted.
Then little Odelia (a beautiful blonde toddler) began fidgeting and making noise. Her presence inspired me to pray for the children of the world. The Bible verse, “All thy children shall be taught of the Lord and great shall be the peace of thy children,” became the launch pad for my prayers which quickly expanded to include all mankind as children of God—free from fear or disease of any kind.
It was a lovely holy meeting. We’ll be there in time for hymns next week, but today we were cleaning house for after church company—a potluck for other new “international” families. The kids enjoyed soccer, hacky sack and wii while the adults shared stories of how we all got here and what treasures, challenges, and tips we’ve discovered in our few days here.
I think many of us will share the same Sunday after meeting routine: check out books from the Friends’ (Quaker) Library (today I got Harry Potter and the Half Blood Prince for Heidi and Lincoln to reread before they see the movie and picked out an Alice Hoffman novel for myself) and then stop at the Cheese Factory to pick up dairy products for the week including milk that comes out of a spicket (you bring your own container)—very delicious.
It has been a lovely day of healing, fellowship, new friends, AND on the way home from meeting, I saw three white faced monkeys up in the trees. My first monkeys!
Thank You God for this day.
Monday, July 13, 2009
The Initial Suprises of Life in Costa Rica
I know we’re not in St. Louis anymore when…
• The grocery store runs out of peanut butter (and when it does come in, it’s tiny jars of crunchy)
• The entire frozen foods section is only about 12 feet long
• Some taxis don’t have seat belts
• You can’t flush toilet paper in your bathrooms.
• None of the sinks in the house have hot water (you have to boil water for dishes; however, the showers do have individual instant water heaters).
• Electrical outlets aren’t grounded (Crocs and hot pads help avoid shocks while cooking).
• There isn’t a single closet to keep your clothes in.
Actually, other than the safety hazards, I appreciate (most of the time) these daily reminders that we are in another country and that in the United States we take so much for granted.
Things I’m enjoying about Costa Rica…
• The bright colors—interior and exterior walls (our house is white, but it has a bright blue roof and fence; the master bedroom walls are a pale lavender and the living room a light green), fabrics used in decorating (our comforters are so cheerful), the yellow little pitcher and cups we bought and the blue glass bowls, and even the hot pink or blue striped grocery bags (they’re really strong too).
• The gorgeous flowers growing everywhere including our own yard—lilies and hydrangeas (we’ve enjoyed fresh rosemary and lemons from the yard too).
• Waking up to roosters crowing and listening to the bell birds “sing” all day with their unusual clanking and squeaky hinge sounds.
• The sound of rain on our tin roof and the wind in the trees.
• The neighborhood dogs who escort us on our walks (Bogie loves having so many dog friends).
• People being so kind about my limited Spanish, and learning/using a little more of the language each day.
• The gorgeous view all the way to the Pacific Ocean seen from the Cloud Forest School and enroute to the Quaker meeting.
• Delight in finally getting something to “go through” on the internet (my apologies to all who haven’t gotten personal responses to comments and emails, but thank you so much for them!).
• The grocery store runs out of peanut butter (and when it does come in, it’s tiny jars of crunchy)
• The entire frozen foods section is only about 12 feet long
• Some taxis don’t have seat belts
• You can’t flush toilet paper in your bathrooms.
• None of the sinks in the house have hot water (you have to boil water for dishes; however, the showers do have individual instant water heaters).
• Electrical outlets aren’t grounded (Crocs and hot pads help avoid shocks while cooking).
• There isn’t a single closet to keep your clothes in.
Actually, other than the safety hazards, I appreciate (most of the time) these daily reminders that we are in another country and that in the United States we take so much for granted.
Things I’m enjoying about Costa Rica…
• The bright colors—interior and exterior walls (our house is white, but it has a bright blue roof and fence; the master bedroom walls are a pale lavender and the living room a light green), fabrics used in decorating (our comforters are so cheerful), the yellow little pitcher and cups we bought and the blue glass bowls, and even the hot pink or blue striped grocery bags (they’re really strong too).
• The gorgeous flowers growing everywhere including our own yard—lilies and hydrangeas (we’ve enjoyed fresh rosemary and lemons from the yard too).
• Waking up to roosters crowing and listening to the bell birds “sing” all day with their unusual clanking and squeaky hinge sounds.
• The sound of rain on our tin roof and the wind in the trees.
• The neighborhood dogs who escort us on our walks (Bogie loves having so many dog friends).
• People being so kind about my limited Spanish, and learning/using a little more of the language each day.
• The gorgeous view all the way to the Pacific Ocean seen from the Cloud Forest School and enroute to the Quaker meeting.
• Delight in finally getting something to “go through” on the internet (my apologies to all who haven’t gotten personal responses to comments and emails, but thank you so much for them!).
Friday, July 10, 2009
We're All Here Together
Dear Friends,
We’re here…blessed by the grace of God abundantly expressed by so many of you. Thank you to Mom, Susan, Cindy, Penny and Dave who came to the rescue when our vacuum cleaner broke the day before our departure, to Blair for helping Heidi with last minute errands and cleaning, and to John for taking care of putting on the car license plate and lawnmower oil.
And, a special thank you to all of you who prayed. I was so touched when I met a colleague in Walmart a few days before we left who said we were on her calendar for July 7th to include us in her prayers that day. And I know friends from the Lafayette Square Society were thinking about us as we travelled—especially our pets. Getting the pets here has given me unquestionable proof that God is Mind and Love and also helped me see that actions--the expressing of gratitude, trust, and obedience--are also prayers.
Our golden retriever Bogie and our cats Piko and Caleb are family and an important parts of home for us. One of my first web searches in exploring Costa Rica as a destination for our family sabbatical was researhgin travel with pets. There is no quarantine on dogs and cats entering the country, and at first glance, bringing them with us looked like it would be simple enough. Wrong.
If you have a small pet, like our cats, you pay a fee, buy the right size carrier, and can easily get a confirmed reservation on a flight. A large dog is a different story. I think I called every airline that flys to Costa Rica—some twice—trying to find a reasonable arrangement for Bogie. Continental is the only airline that flys pets as cargo in the summer, but they take great care to keep them the proper temperature, exercise them on layovers, etc.
However, July is a peak travel season to Latin America, and when I first began investigating flights, the airline policy was that pets could only fly standby. Bogie would fly from St. Louis to Houston and then to Costa Rica. There was one only one flight to Houston each day with the properly sized and air-conditioned cargo bay and because of rules pertaining to connecting flights, Bogie would have to stay overnight at Continental’s kennels in Houston. We couldn’t get Bogie on the standby list until 3 days before his flight, and even then he could only fly if the flights were less than 75% full. It could take several for days for there to be a space for each leg of his journey. But at least there was a way to get Bogie to Costa Rica; he likes being with other dogs at kennels, and we knew someone with a pet sitting service that would be willing to take Bogie to the airport day after day in St. Louis, if needed. So we booked ourselves on a less expensive airlines and trusted that somehow the “Red Sea” of regulations would part for Bogie.
In mid-April, I decided to call back to get a clear definition of “3 days ahead of time,” and found that the rules had just changed in our favor. Continental was now guaranteeing one cargo pet per flight. No more standby, and you could make the reservation beginning 12 days ahead of time. Yeah! This was progress. (In fact as the rules now stand, you must make the reservation more than 3 days ahead of time.)
I knew that Piko and possibly Bogie needed to have their teeth cleaned before we went to Costa Rica, and made an appointment for the vet to look at them the afternoon after our Upper School graduation. The final week of school is crazy, and I kept wondering why I had made the appointment for that day, but I was too busy to call and change it. That morning, I searched online for “rules for taking pets to Costa Rica” so I could print the shot requirements for the vet in preparing for a future appointment. In addition to printing the official regulations from the embassy website, I also looked at several personal postings and learned that while the embassy regulations say that all shots need to be given less than 30 days before travel, rabies shots have to be more than 30 days (a rule the airlines later confirmed to be true). So, all the pets got their rabies shots that day—had the appointment been the next week, it would had been too late.
The personal postings I read also raised other questions which led to another timely call to the airlines. Once again the rules had recently changed. I was able to make Bogie’s reservation right then (not just 12 days out); however, if you didn’t fly with your pet, you were required to hire a broker (approximately $600 on top of the airfare) to coordinate the pet’s travel with the airlines, and import fees had increased to $250. So we changed Mike’s reservation to have him fly with Bogie (who could now get a connecting flight the same day) and swallowed the extra fees, grateful that we knew Bogie had a space on the desired day.
From the personal postings we also learned that we needed to have the pets’ certificates of health stamped by a USDA vet in Jefferson City, Missouri—another important detail not clear on the embassy site or in information from the airlines or vet.
The story doesn’t end there. (I’m sorry this is long, but each step is such wonderful proof to me of God’s care.) We took Piko in for his teeth cleaning (Bogie ended up not needing it), and the day after he came home, one of his eyes was infected. The ointment the vet gave us wasn’t doing any good, and the day for the pets’ exams for the certificates of health was drawing near; so we decided to stop using the medicine and asked a Christian Science practitioner to treat the situation with prayer. I really struggled with faith and trust. The morning of our vet visit, the Bible verse, “He performeth the thing that is appointed for me” spoke to me in a new way-- God would perform the appointment for Piko. Although Piko’s third eyelid still covered a portion of his eye, it was not at all inflamed, and we received the necessary certificate of health.
We also asked a Christian Science practitioner (THANK YOU!) to pray with us for the pets during our flights. Piko did great the whole time. Knowing that Caleb didn’t like being in his crate and wanting to be kind to fellow travelers, the vet had given us a pill to calm him. It didn’t work. Caleb meowed and pawed to get out of the crate during the whole flight. Fortunately, he was underneath a family with loud children, and his meows weren’t noticed much by others, but he clearly wasn’t a happy camper. So, I checked in with the practitioner between flights, and she reminded us that Caleb hadn’t left the kingdom of heaven and agreed to continue praying. He was calm and only meowed a few times on the next flight as well as on our four hour van trip to Monteverde the next day. For Caleb—truly amazing!
Bogie’s adventures continued the day of travel too. The airlines had told us that there needed to be three inches of clearance in the crate above his head, and we’d measured it carefully. (And a bigger crate wouldn’t fit on the small plane between St. Louis and Houston anyway.) But when Mike got to the airport, they were concerned that the crate was too small and weren’t going to let Bogie fly. Finally they agreed to take out the crate pad and let Bogie fly. Then, their flight out of Houston was delayed. The delay, however, turned out to be ablessing. Because they arrived in Costa Rica so late, Bogie was delivered to the baggage area rather than to the cargo facility. As baggage, we didn’t have to pay the anticipated import fees. Like the cats, Bogie was treated as a family member, not a commodity.
The pets seem to appreciate how special it is to be here with us. They love the cooler weather. In our smaller, one story house it is easier to keep an eye on all of us. Tico dogs usually live outdoors and are very sociable. Bogie has made many new friends—the trio of dogs that greets us on our walks and the two that share our back yard fence. Bogie has accompanied us to outdoor cafes and loves rolling in our grass.
We’re all here together…and you’re here with us in our hearts.
Gracias amigos,
Maria
We’re here…blessed by the grace of God abundantly expressed by so many of you. Thank you to Mom, Susan, Cindy, Penny and Dave who came to the rescue when our vacuum cleaner broke the day before our departure, to Blair for helping Heidi with last minute errands and cleaning, and to John for taking care of putting on the car license plate and lawnmower oil.
And, a special thank you to all of you who prayed. I was so touched when I met a colleague in Walmart a few days before we left who said we were on her calendar for July 7th to include us in her prayers that day. And I know friends from the Lafayette Square Society were thinking about us as we travelled—especially our pets. Getting the pets here has given me unquestionable proof that God is Mind and Love and also helped me see that actions--the expressing of gratitude, trust, and obedience--are also prayers.
Our golden retriever Bogie and our cats Piko and Caleb are family and an important parts of home for us. One of my first web searches in exploring Costa Rica as a destination for our family sabbatical was researhgin travel with pets. There is no quarantine on dogs and cats entering the country, and at first glance, bringing them with us looked like it would be simple enough. Wrong.
If you have a small pet, like our cats, you pay a fee, buy the right size carrier, and can easily get a confirmed reservation on a flight. A large dog is a different story. I think I called every airline that flys to Costa Rica—some twice—trying to find a reasonable arrangement for Bogie. Continental is the only airline that flys pets as cargo in the summer, but they take great care to keep them the proper temperature, exercise them on layovers, etc.
However, July is a peak travel season to Latin America, and when I first began investigating flights, the airline policy was that pets could only fly standby. Bogie would fly from St. Louis to Houston and then to Costa Rica. There was one only one flight to Houston each day with the properly sized and air-conditioned cargo bay and because of rules pertaining to connecting flights, Bogie would have to stay overnight at Continental’s kennels in Houston. We couldn’t get Bogie on the standby list until 3 days before his flight, and even then he could only fly if the flights were less than 75% full. It could take several for days for there to be a space for each leg of his journey. But at least there was a way to get Bogie to Costa Rica; he likes being with other dogs at kennels, and we knew someone with a pet sitting service that would be willing to take Bogie to the airport day after day in St. Louis, if needed. So we booked ourselves on a less expensive airlines and trusted that somehow the “Red Sea” of regulations would part for Bogie.
In mid-April, I decided to call back to get a clear definition of “3 days ahead of time,” and found that the rules had just changed in our favor. Continental was now guaranteeing one cargo pet per flight. No more standby, and you could make the reservation beginning 12 days ahead of time. Yeah! This was progress. (In fact as the rules now stand, you must make the reservation more than 3 days ahead of time.)
I knew that Piko and possibly Bogie needed to have their teeth cleaned before we went to Costa Rica, and made an appointment for the vet to look at them the afternoon after our Upper School graduation. The final week of school is crazy, and I kept wondering why I had made the appointment for that day, but I was too busy to call and change it. That morning, I searched online for “rules for taking pets to Costa Rica” so I could print the shot requirements for the vet in preparing for a future appointment. In addition to printing the official regulations from the embassy website, I also looked at several personal postings and learned that while the embassy regulations say that all shots need to be given less than 30 days before travel, rabies shots have to be more than 30 days (a rule the airlines later confirmed to be true). So, all the pets got their rabies shots that day—had the appointment been the next week, it would had been too late.
The personal postings I read also raised other questions which led to another timely call to the airlines. Once again the rules had recently changed. I was able to make Bogie’s reservation right then (not just 12 days out); however, if you didn’t fly with your pet, you were required to hire a broker (approximately $600 on top of the airfare) to coordinate the pet’s travel with the airlines, and import fees had increased to $250. So we changed Mike’s reservation to have him fly with Bogie (who could now get a connecting flight the same day) and swallowed the extra fees, grateful that we knew Bogie had a space on the desired day.
From the personal postings we also learned that we needed to have the pets’ certificates of health stamped by a USDA vet in Jefferson City, Missouri—another important detail not clear on the embassy site or in information from the airlines or vet.
The story doesn’t end there. (I’m sorry this is long, but each step is such wonderful proof to me of God’s care.) We took Piko in for his teeth cleaning (Bogie ended up not needing it), and the day after he came home, one of his eyes was infected. The ointment the vet gave us wasn’t doing any good, and the day for the pets’ exams for the certificates of health was drawing near; so we decided to stop using the medicine and asked a Christian Science practitioner to treat the situation with prayer. I really struggled with faith and trust. The morning of our vet visit, the Bible verse, “He performeth the thing that is appointed for me” spoke to me in a new way-- God would perform the appointment for Piko. Although Piko’s third eyelid still covered a portion of his eye, it was not at all inflamed, and we received the necessary certificate of health.
We also asked a Christian Science practitioner (THANK YOU!) to pray with us for the pets during our flights. Piko did great the whole time. Knowing that Caleb didn’t like being in his crate and wanting to be kind to fellow travelers, the vet had given us a pill to calm him. It didn’t work. Caleb meowed and pawed to get out of the crate during the whole flight. Fortunately, he was underneath a family with loud children, and his meows weren’t noticed much by others, but he clearly wasn’t a happy camper. So, I checked in with the practitioner between flights, and she reminded us that Caleb hadn’t left the kingdom of heaven and agreed to continue praying. He was calm and only meowed a few times on the next flight as well as on our four hour van trip to Monteverde the next day. For Caleb—truly amazing!
Bogie’s adventures continued the day of travel too. The airlines had told us that there needed to be three inches of clearance in the crate above his head, and we’d measured it carefully. (And a bigger crate wouldn’t fit on the small plane between St. Louis and Houston anyway.) But when Mike got to the airport, they were concerned that the crate was too small and weren’t going to let Bogie fly. Finally they agreed to take out the crate pad and let Bogie fly. Then, their flight out of Houston was delayed. The delay, however, turned out to be ablessing. Because they arrived in Costa Rica so late, Bogie was delivered to the baggage area rather than to the cargo facility. As baggage, we didn’t have to pay the anticipated import fees. Like the cats, Bogie was treated as a family member, not a commodity.
The pets seem to appreciate how special it is to be here with us. They love the cooler weather. In our smaller, one story house it is easier to keep an eye on all of us. Tico dogs usually live outdoors and are very sociable. Bogie has made many new friends—the trio of dogs that greets us on our walks and the two that share our back yard fence. Bogie has accompanied us to outdoor cafes and loves rolling in our grass.
We’re all here together…and you’re here with us in our hearts.
Gracias amigos,
Maria
Saturday, June 20, 2009
Costa Rica...How It Began
Dear Kate,
In a few days, you leave for camp, and just over two weeks later, our family moves to Costa Rica for a year--an adventure that actually grew out of insights you shared from another drive to Colorado this past October (see Kate's Oct. 28, 2oo8 post "Thank you for hearing me...." at http://stoneriverstudio.blogspot.com/2008_10_01_archive.html). As you were driving, a friend called on your cell phone and commented on how happy you sounded. Reflecting on the conversation, you talked about hearing your voice in a figurative concert hall...in an atmosphere where you felt "free of past impressions or future expectations."
Last fall was challenging for Heidi. In her search for who she is and what she believes in , she was finding it difficult to live in our house on the campus of a conservative Christian school. Even though she was no longer a student there, she didn't feel like she had much mental breathing space. After your comments, I found my heart longing for Heidi to find a Carnegie Hall in which to hear the voice of her soul.
You have often written about God planting desires in our heart...and then answering them. A few days later, I got the clear message that, "You won't have to move off campus to meet Heidi's needs." "OK God," I replied. "I look forward to hearing what you have in mind." I didn't have to wait long.
Within a week, the outline of a family sabbatical to Monteverde was in place. Prior to this, we'd never seriously talked about living abroad, and none of us had ever been to Costa Rica. But Mike had occasionally mentioned his desire to travel as a family with a community service focus. I looked at several international community service websites and then investigated Christian Science schools abroad as possibilities for Lincoln (I knew we'd need to balance his love of home with Heidi's spirit of adventure), but nothing clicked until I glanced at a Monteverde Conservation League newsletter in my inbox. Several of Lincoln's classmates had traveled to Costa Rica; so the idea wasn't completely foreign to him. A web search quickly led me to two bilingual schools in Monteverde, and I learned that in this community founded by pacifist Quakers in thd 50s, you can get by with minimal Spanish--a good thing since Mike and I are just beginning to learn the language. And Costa Rica has no quarantine on pets. (Yes, the dog and cats are going with us.)
For now, I'll keep the story short and skip most of the details between last October and today. The school where we work has generously granted Michael and me leaves of absence for next year. The kids have been accepted at the Cloud Forest School (http.www.cloudforestschool.org) where we will be one of ten international families at the mostly native Tico school. We've arranged to rent out our house in St. Louis and are busy packing.
While the trip may have started out as an answer to our prayers for Heidi, we now see how in different ways it promises a needed practice room and concert hall for each family member--a place to learn more about who we are as individuals, a family, and as part of a global community. It is an anwered prayer for all of us.
I'll be thinking of you while you are at camp and will miss being a bunkhouse mom there this summer. As you look out at your snow capped peaks, I will gaze out over Costa Rica's tree-canopied mountain tops to the Pacific Ocean and hear the spirit of your voice in the wind.
Happy trails!
With gratitude and love,
Maria
In a few days, you leave for camp, and just over two weeks later, our family moves to Costa Rica for a year--an adventure that actually grew out of insights you shared from another drive to Colorado this past October (see Kate's Oct. 28, 2oo8 post "Thank you for hearing me...." at http://stoneriverstudio.blogspot.com/2008_10_01_archive.html). As you were driving, a friend called on your cell phone and commented on how happy you sounded. Reflecting on the conversation, you talked about hearing your voice in a figurative concert hall...in an atmosphere where you felt "free of past impressions or future expectations."
Last fall was challenging for Heidi. In her search for who she is and what she believes in , she was finding it difficult to live in our house on the campus of a conservative Christian school. Even though she was no longer a student there, she didn't feel like she had much mental breathing space. After your comments, I found my heart longing for Heidi to find a Carnegie Hall in which to hear the voice of her soul.
You have often written about God planting desires in our heart...and then answering them. A few days later, I got the clear message that, "You won't have to move off campus to meet Heidi's needs." "OK God," I replied. "I look forward to hearing what you have in mind." I didn't have to wait long.
Within a week, the outline of a family sabbatical to Monteverde was in place. Prior to this, we'd never seriously talked about living abroad, and none of us had ever been to Costa Rica. But Mike had occasionally mentioned his desire to travel as a family with a community service focus. I looked at several international community service websites and then investigated Christian Science schools abroad as possibilities for Lincoln (I knew we'd need to balance his love of home with Heidi's spirit of adventure), but nothing clicked until I glanced at a Monteverde Conservation League newsletter in my inbox. Several of Lincoln's classmates had traveled to Costa Rica; so the idea wasn't completely foreign to him. A web search quickly led me to two bilingual schools in Monteverde, and I learned that in this community founded by pacifist Quakers in thd 50s, you can get by with minimal Spanish--a good thing since Mike and I are just beginning to learn the language. And Costa Rica has no quarantine on pets. (Yes, the dog and cats are going with us.)
For now, I'll keep the story short and skip most of the details between last October and today. The school where we work has generously granted Michael and me leaves of absence for next year. The kids have been accepted at the Cloud Forest School (http.www.cloudforestschool.org) where we will be one of ten international families at the mostly native Tico school. We've arranged to rent out our house in St. Louis and are busy packing.
While the trip may have started out as an answer to our prayers for Heidi, we now see how in different ways it promises a needed practice room and concert hall for each family member--a place to learn more about who we are as individuals, a family, and as part of a global community. It is an anwered prayer for all of us.
I'll be thinking of you while you are at camp and will miss being a bunkhouse mom there this summer. As you look out at your snow capped peaks, I will gaze out over Costa Rica's tree-canopied mountain tops to the Pacific Ocean and hear the spirit of your voice in the wind.
Happy trails!
With gratitude and love,
Maria
Tuesday, April 21, 2009
Day of Silence
Friday was the National Day of Silence, and this is the second year Heidi has been the leader in coordinating its observance at her school. However, this year they celebrated today instead of Friday so that the event’s significance wouldn’t get lost in the hubbub of Spirit Week. If you’re not familiar with Day of Silence, here is what participant badges said:
“Please understand my reasons for not speaking today. I am participating in the Day of Silence, a national youth movement bringing attention to the silence faced by lesbian, gay, bisexual and transgender people and their allies. My deliberate silence echoes that silence, which is caused by anti-LGBT bullying, name-calling and harassment. I believe that ending the silence is the first step toward building awareness and making a commitment to address these injustices. Think about the voices you are not hearing today. What are you going to do to end the silence?”
Last year, I promised myself that I would not let another Day of Silence pass without making my own contribution…without in some way helping Heidi share the message. I admire Heidi for challenging cultural paradigms on this issue and encouraging people to love not judge, for her willingness to speak up when people say “that’s so gay” and help them realize that they are stereotyping and insulting many loving, courageous people, whose desires and motives are really no different from yours or mine.
Heidi has a t-shirt that says “Love knows no gender.” I like to remind myself that God causes love—that He is the only source of the love and affection in our relationships with others. Perhaps someday, if we all spend a little more time seeing and appreciating God in every expression of tenderness and kindness rather than trying to categorize affection, then Day of Silence will become unnecessary.
Thank you, Heidi, for repeatedly reminding me to think beyond my own little world with my prayers and actions. You are making a difference!
“Please understand my reasons for not speaking today. I am participating in the Day of Silence, a national youth movement bringing attention to the silence faced by lesbian, gay, bisexual and transgender people and their allies. My deliberate silence echoes that silence, which is caused by anti-LGBT bullying, name-calling and harassment. I believe that ending the silence is the first step toward building awareness and making a commitment to address these injustices. Think about the voices you are not hearing today. What are you going to do to end the silence?”
Last year, I promised myself that I would not let another Day of Silence pass without making my own contribution…without in some way helping Heidi share the message. I admire Heidi for challenging cultural paradigms on this issue and encouraging people to love not judge, for her willingness to speak up when people say “that’s so gay” and help them realize that they are stereotyping and insulting many loving, courageous people, whose desires and motives are really no different from yours or mine.
Heidi has a t-shirt that says “Love knows no gender.” I like to remind myself that God causes love—that He is the only source of the love and affection in our relationships with others. Perhaps someday, if we all spend a little more time seeing and appreciating God in every expression of tenderness and kindness rather than trying to categorize affection, then Day of Silence will become unnecessary.
Thank you, Heidi, for repeatedly reminding me to think beyond my own little world with my prayers and actions. You are making a difference!
Thursday, September 18, 2008
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
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
Saturday, August 09, 2008
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
Monday, January 07, 2008
"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,
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
Sunday, November 18, 2007
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
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
Saturday, November 10, 2007
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
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
Thursday, August 23, 2007
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
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
Sunday, August 12, 2007
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
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
Sunday, August 05, 2007
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
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
Sunday, July 29, 2007
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.”
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.”
Sunday, July 22, 2007
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
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
Friday, July 13, 2007
"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
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
Wednesday, July 04, 2007
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.
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.
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