Hole in Twenty

I have never been very good at miniature golf. To be true I should just say I am very bad. Bad as in the ball leaping repeatedly off the green into the shrubs that always surround a miniature golf course. I hit too hard or too soft. I just never win.

Tonight I went golfing with my 2 and a half year old nephew. I made the executive decision that we would not keep score. We would just have fun. And have fun we did…he was a very creative golfer. I never have seen someone use the golf club in so many ways in order to get the ball in the whole. And me…I played the best game of my whole life with a 2 year old as witness.

I had three hole in ones and most other holes I got in two hits. Yet, my joy about these hole in ones only served to confuse my nephew. He was sad for me since I did not get to hit the ball as many times as he did. He repeatedly took my ball out of the hole and urged me to hit it again.

There was something in me that shifted tonight. I was playing for fun and with someone who does not know how to win or lose at miniature golf. What if we all lived in that place forever, the place where fun was more important than our score…what if it was never about winning…what if…

Little Worlds of Life

When I was a little girl my grandmother had a terrarium in her home.  I remember peeking into it with wonder every time we visited her house.  I was transported to that same place of wonder by a sprite of a woman named Tovah Martin while I was attending a workshop at the Philadelphia International Flower Show last weekend.  By the end of the hour long workshop I was convicted by her belief that creating these little worlds could bring about world peace.

I began my search for the perfect vessel and was soon happy with my thrift store and home goods finds.  I assembled the needed supplies and spent a sunny afternoon on my front porch creating self contained worlds.  Peace and beauty.

Now, full disclosure…I am usually horrible at keeping living things like plants living.  So my attraction to terrariums is not just for the beauty, but the practical way this will bring live things into my own messy, busy life.  I am attracted to the way they just take care of themselves with no help from me.  I am attracted to the way they stay out of everybody else’s business and just do their own stuff.  I am attracted to this self-contained and self-sustained beauty.  My only role is to give it the space to do its stuff.  The only need being to place it in the right light to shine.  May it be so in terrariums and in the container of my own life.

God is Bigger than Scooby Doo

The conversation went something like this:

Pastor:  Today is my last day here with all of you.

Little five year old boy:  Pastor, who is going to keep an eye on these two?  (motioning to the eighth graders in my Sunday School class)

Pastor:  God, I guess.

Same five year old boy who is always thinking:  God’s not big enough!

Me, pastor who is always intrigued with what this little boy has to say about God:  What do you mean?

Five year old theologian in training:  Well, if God is in my heart with Jesus he can barely stand up straight so I don’t think he is big enough to take care of them.

Me, human in training, pastor who is still learning yet sure of some things:  God is bigger than we can even imagine and I know you have a very good imagination…bigger than this church and the sky and the whole world…

Little one with a love for one very special cartoon character:  Bigger than Scooby Doo?!?

Pastor, with love for the ones she leaves behind as she moves on to a new call:  Yes, bigger than Scooby Doo and all the Scooby snacks in the world.

Little five year old boy:  Wow.

Pastor:  Wow.

 

 

Found Remembering

As I slipped the posts of my earrings through the holes in my ears this morning, I smiled, remembering. I remember I was thirteen before my dad allowed me to pierce my ears. I don’t remember my dad making too many rules, but I remember him making me wait to get my ears pierced. I never understood why…just one of the many things I am left to wonder since his death over two years ago.

I remembered that the earrings I was putting on were a gift from him. They were not a gift in the traditional sense…he did not go out and pick them especially for me. No, he actually found one of them while he was vacuuming the carpet in my childhood home. I must have lost it when we were visiting with my parents. I had already mourned the loss of this favorite pair of earrings and added it to my growing collection of lonely earrings who had no mate. In finding the lost one, keeping it, and returning it he gave me a gift.

Tonight, as I slip the earrings out of my ears, I smile again. The gift today is no longer the earrings, it is the remembering. Remembering the care and love in the returning of found things. Remembering my dad giving me back something I loved and lost. Remembering that the simplest acts produce the purest memories.

Noticings:
– there is more than one way to give a gift
– always keep lonely earrings who have lost a mate
– pay more attention to what is found…that’s where the joy is

Lenten Surrender

On Thursday our nephew Chase took the opportunity to shout his love for us over and over again in the middle of a restaurant full of people.  ”I love you” bounced from me to Chase to Scott to Chase until the  love lodged itself in my soul and the people around us stared with wistful smiles as if it were a piece of art displayed in the middle of our diner table.  Immovable and perfect.

On Friday our nephew Sam showed his love with an energy that defies words.  He could not seem to speak but the lack of words did not keep me from knowing that pure love was poring from his heart into the room and filling it.  The electricity of his love shocked my heart to deeper life.

My Ash Wednesday prayer was one of surrendering to the mystery of God.  Into the place of exposure love has poured in warm and lovely.  Love dives deeper.  Just when it does not seem possible, love finds deeper pools in your soul.

Noticings:

—  there is love in the wilderness

—  i love being an aunt to these fantastical children

—  surrendering isn’t so bad

Peeps and Steel

With the rusted stacks of the old, defunct (yet recently reclaimed with fanfare and fancy lighting) Bethlehem Steel as a back drop, I watched a life size, yellow, marshmallow peep drop from a crane to the ground to signal a new year. It was 5:15 on the 31st of December, but the crowd’s enthusiastic shouts of “happy new year” made it feel like midnight.

I felt kind of like I do when I see something on those antique quest road shows on tv. You know, when they pull out something old and dingy and you think it can’t be worth anything. Then the “expert” scratches at the surface, shows some marking and it becomes worth more than gold. The steel stacks had been a beacon of an industry long gone. An eyesore. On this new year’s night they were the unlikely star in the peeps pageant. And while we are on unlikely…a peep as a beacon of hope for a new year!? But yes, it was all true.

As I stood watching the fireworks and my nieces dance around in excitement I was filled with new year hope. If an old pile of rusted buildings and some molded plastic dropping from the sky can bring this much joy, what more potential we humans have to bring new life in a weary world.

Noticings:
– the junk may not be junk…the rusted parts can still make music
– it’s all in the lighting
– it is in the most unlikely things that joy has placed its seed

Here Am I

I was as ready for the morning rush of work and service that marks the final Sunday of Advent. The scripture told the old story of Mary, again. Then there would be decorations in need of hanging and furniture to be moved and the typical Sunday surprises to be navigated. I was in need of am escape. I curled up on the couch to finally watch the DVD that had been sitting in the Netflix envelope for way too long.

I was hooked from the opening scene. I was transported to Liberia. The part of my heart that will always belong to Africa sprung open. I watched with a fullness in my chest as the women of Liberia danced, sang, cried, laughed, loved, sat, stood, flew, walked, yelled, talked and moved a country from Civil War to peace. I can’t believe it took me this long to see the documentary “Pray the Devil Back to Hell”.

There is a moment in the documentary when the women who were sitting for the peace of war torn Liberia were about to be arrested. The women had formed a human chain link fence and declared the peace talkers were not to leave the room until an agreement had been signed. The men in negotiations had not been taking the talks seriously and the women were fed up. When the guard came to arrest the women he asked, “Who is in charge here?” Leymah Gbowee’s bold response rocked my inner being: “Here Am I.” With no external show of fear she claimed her call from God to keep standing for the peace promised to all of humanity.

As Leymah’s response and action play out on the screen, I felt her words echo in the chambers of my heart where they formed a chorus with mother Mary’s response when told by an angel she was to bear the Prince of Peace…Mary, young and unmarried, responds: “Here am I.” The truth of the power of women to break the chain of violence with their very body as an instrument of peace sings into the world in the simple but powerful response of both these women: “Here am I.” Leymah and Mary are testaments of the freedom that can come when we commit ourselves to God’s care of creation from a place of humility, awe and holy possibility.

Noticings:

– Courage has no weapon but humility
– watch your Netflix movie immediately upon arrival
– the world’s peace legacy is built on the ability of humanity’s capacity to say: “Here am I”

Purple Shoes, Party Dresses and an Orange Suitcase

Faith is like that perfect pair of purple shoes you take with you wherever you go because you never know when you will be called on to dance.

Hope is the shiny pink party dress still in the dry cleaners wrappings.

Love is the orange suitcase with bountiful pockets, lined in silk that that carries it all.

Time On the Floor

You can find everything at Marshall’s.  I often go there in search of the most unique gifts for the person who has everything and needs nothing.  This week Marshall’s was selling something everyone needs…time in a bottle.  To be specific, it was a sand filled hourglass.  In order to make sure it actually got close to an hour I put it in my cart in order to time the flow of sand.

At about 20 minutes the hour glass started to fall, so I wedge something around it and hoped for the best.  I was looking forward to giving it as a gift and had begun thinking about getting a second one for myself.

Then, without warning, the hourglass toppled to the floor.  Purple sand and broken glass were everywhere.  And my original plans…gone with the broken, destructive ways that are comfortable familiar.   And there was an unexpected beauty to the pattern of the sand on the industrial store floor.

Noticings:

–  time cannot always be contained or measured

–  God laughs at us all of the time

–  broken glass really flies far

Little Boxes

 

I found a small box made of Aspen wood at a thrift store today.  It is a secret box with two steps necessary in opening to reveal the surprise inside.  This small box reminded me of the birthday card I received this week.  On the front of the card was a bear balancing gift boxes of all shapes and sizes.  Inside the sender wrote to me and reminded me that sometimes the best things come in small packages.   She then challenged me by inquiring about what size box I was going to be seeking this birthday season, encouraging me to seek out the small boxes and not the large.

Indeed, I did spend the day with the small boxes of my life, the little things that make my life mine.  And this became the gift.  I met a child I will soon baptize.  In five years (maybe less) the burps we smiled about won’t be so cute, but today they were a sign of nourishment and growing and wellness.  I had lunch with my two year old nephew and reveled in the mess he made of his face as he ate spaghetti and the joy bursting out of his being as spontaneously burst into fits of giggles while eating said spaghetti.  I spent time on the phone with a beloved friend.  There was a rainbow in my mail from my five year old niece.  I drank tea from my birthday tea cup and watched my favorite shows caught by DVR.

I must admit that is only in retrospect that I can see the largeness of this birthday.  I like birthdays and I do love presents.  Today the gifts were subtle and the presents were in my ability to be present.

Noticings:

–  The Aspen are connected underground to the same root system, though from above each tree seems to be individual.

–  It is easy to miss the small boxes when your eyes are glued to the big one.

–  Some things can’t be contained by any size box