So HappyChurch approved the call letter unanimously today at their congregational meeting. Everyone was so happy -- including me, of course!
The pastor preached on the unclean spirit text from Mark, and finished up by saying that those whom our culture says are not "enough" -- not smart enough, to sane enough, not straight enough, not normal enough, not good enough, not...enough -- that HappyChurch is the place where those folks can come and know that they are enough, that they can come and be truly loved and welcomed and included.
There are many folks at HappyChurch already who are there precisely because they have been called "not enough" for whatever reason elsewhere. And my own experience of being their pastor speaks to that, as it was at HappyChurch where I learned that I am "enough" to be a pastor. I've said that before, here, but I was just struck that whithout having ever really talked about it, this theme was lifted up today.
I also thought it was cool that our communion liturgy (PDF) celebrated UCC Women's Week which celebrates the gifts of women in the church (I didn't even know we had such a thing in the UCC!), as well as St. Brigid's feast day (and the lunar new year!). Again, the pastor and I had not talked about any of this, and I don't know if he intentionally picked this because I was there today or he used it simply because it was a resource he discovered for this Sunday. Whatever the reason, I loved that we used that liturgy celebrating women on the day they approved my call.
Don't you just love how God works sometimes!?!
Sunday, February 1, 2009
Monday, January 26, 2009
One Step Closer
In December of 1994 I made my first trip to Guatemala, for a meeting about the program I coordinated for the Presbyterian Church. After the meeting, some of us did a little tour to a few parts of the country, spending the night in Panajachel on Lake Atitlán. We arrived in the afternoon while all the little outdoor stalls were still open selling their beautiful wares. My co-workers and I wandered through the streets trying not to buy everything in sight.
It was on towards sunset when we came up to a stall near the lakeshore, hung all over with woven stoles. My boss and I stopped and looked for a long time. Finally, I said, "I'm going to buy one. You know, just in case I might need it some day." She smiled. We both knew the possibility of me being ordained in the PC(USA) was unlikely, unless I stayed stuffed in a closet, which we also both knew was unlikely. Nevertheless, I bought one, in an extreme act of hope I suppose, a bright rainbow-y one that laid across the top of my desk for the next 6 or so years.
I gave that stole away in May 2000. I gave it to the pastor in Portland as a gift for being so kind to my cielo. Plus, I figured that I would not actually need it, having been unceremoniously dumped from my job at that same time, making clear to me that my person, my self, was not wanted. I didn't even know yet, then, that I would leave the PC(USA) for the UCC. I didn't know that I would come to love the UCC, that I would heal from the pain of leaving my childhood denomination, that I would find my way back to my path that would eventually lead me to where I am now.
Now, I have a whole set of Guatemalan stoles -- bright green/blue, darker green/black (for fall ordinary time!), deep purple, white, red, and yes, another rainbow-y one -- hand-picked by my cielo's brother in Guate and sent to me at my request before I began working at HappyChurch. HappyChurch allowed me to wear stoles as a sign of my ministerial authority even though I am not yet ordained, and I have also worn them at my new church. The red one graced BlueEyes' neck and the rainbow-y one TheologyBabe's during the great Transform columbus day Protest of 2007:
The red one is now my "official" protest stole, which I wear in marches and speaking at city council meetings...and which I carried at my trial. I also have a massively large red stole from Mexico, whichI bought from the weaver in Cuernavaca and which I wore at the 2007 protest:
I'm digressing, slightly: The point is, back in 1994 I bought a stole, in absurd hope, which I then gave away, having lost hope. And now here I am just a few more steps from being ordained.
Tonight, the HappyChurch council voted to approve the partnership between my church and theirs, which will make it possible for them to call me as the new church start pastor. The conference meets on Saturday (note to UCC polity geeks, my conference doesn't have any associations, in which this responsibility usually lies) and will vote whether or not to approve. And Sunday HappyChurch has its congregational meeting to vote to approve my call. No one expects any hiccups. One woman on the HappyChurch council said, "If the congregation doesn't approve this, I will fall down in a dead faint."
So. There you go.
It was on towards sunset when we came up to a stall near the lakeshore, hung all over with woven stoles. My boss and I stopped and looked for a long time. Finally, I said, "I'm going to buy one. You know, just in case I might need it some day." She smiled. We both knew the possibility of me being ordained in the PC(USA) was unlikely, unless I stayed stuffed in a closet, which we also both knew was unlikely. Nevertheless, I bought one, in an extreme act of hope I suppose, a bright rainbow-y one that laid across the top of my desk for the next 6 or so years.
I gave that stole away in May 2000. I gave it to the pastor in Portland as a gift for being so kind to my cielo. Plus, I figured that I would not actually need it, having been unceremoniously dumped from my job at that same time, making clear to me that my person, my self, was not wanted. I didn't even know yet, then, that I would leave the PC(USA) for the UCC. I didn't know that I would come to love the UCC, that I would heal from the pain of leaving my childhood denomination, that I would find my way back to my path that would eventually lead me to where I am now.
Now, I have a whole set of Guatemalan stoles -- bright green/blue, darker green/black (for fall ordinary time!), deep purple, white, red, and yes, another rainbow-y one -- hand-picked by my cielo's brother in Guate and sent to me at my request before I began working at HappyChurch. HappyChurch allowed me to wear stoles as a sign of my ministerial authority even though I am not yet ordained, and I have also worn them at my new church. The red one graced BlueEyes' neck and the rainbow-y one TheologyBabe's during the great Transform columbus day Protest of 2007:
The red one is now my "official" protest stole, which I wear in marches and speaking at city council meetings...and which I carried at my trial. I also have a massively large red stole from Mexico, whichI bought from the weaver in Cuernavaca and which I wore at the 2007 protest:
I'm digressing, slightly: The point is, back in 1994 I bought a stole, in absurd hope, which I then gave away, having lost hope. And now here I am just a few more steps from being ordained.Tonight, the HappyChurch council voted to approve the partnership between my church and theirs, which will make it possible for them to call me as the new church start pastor. The conference meets on Saturday (note to UCC polity geeks, my conference doesn't have any associations, in which this responsibility usually lies) and will vote whether or not to approve. And Sunday HappyChurch has its congregational meeting to vote to approve my call. No one expects any hiccups. One woman on the HappyChurch council said, "If the congregation doesn't approve this, I will fall down in a dead faint."
So. There you go.
Tuesday, January 20, 2009
Blogging the Inauguration
8:09am --We turned CSPAN on just in time to see Obama and Biden arriving at the White House. A nice way to start the day! Looks like a beautiful day there, sunny and bright.
I'm still surprised how tall Michelle is. I didn't know it was tradition for the first-ladies to exchange gifts (according to the announcer). Apparently they are all now having coffee.
They showed the House getting itself together to go to the inauguration. There was some joking and hollering about what order they would be filing out. Clearly getting the House to get itself together is rather like herding cats.
8:15 -- They're seating VIPs at the capitol. I wish they would tell us who they are.
8:23 -- Look at all the crowds. Wow. Everyone looks so joyful.
8:40 -- I love all the classrooms calling in to say they're watching, and the kids cheering!
8:43 -- They're starting to leave from the White House. Anyone else notice how short Ms. Biden's skirt is? Wouldn't she be cold?
I can feel my own energy and excitement starting to build the closer we get.
Here come Laura and Michelle. Michelle looks fabulous. And alive, compared to Laura.
You can tell how heavily armored those cars are.
Darth Cheney in a wheelchair? What's up with that? Hard to have any sympathy for that guy, I'm sorry.
Thanks to google, I learned he pulled a back muscle moving boxes. Something poetic about that.
HERE HE COMES. Obama and shrubbie. Shrubbie leaving the White House for the last time.
It's hard to believe it's really happening, but it is.
8:54 -- The motorcade is on its way. People lining the route cheering...my cielo wonders how much of the cheering is joy that shrub is going, going, gone...I know for me it's equal parts that and cheering for Obama.
9:00 -- They've arrived at the Capitol. The ladies are inside, and Biden. And here's Obama and shrub. Cut to the crowd -- people are already in tears.
Supreme court filing in now. And now what seems to be the new cabinet members. Yup, there's Ken Salazar, my former Senator and now soon-to-be Secretary of the Interior, wearing a cowboy hat.
I love that CSPAN shuts up and just lets you have your own experience watching.
Clarence Thomas is laughing it up over there. I wonder what he's thinking about today.
9:12 -- When did Al Gore's hair get so gray?
9:13 -- The elder shrubs have matching purple scarves? OK. My cielo is stunned at how frail shrub sr. looks.
Here's Jimmy Carter. Just a decent human being.
The new Secretary of State and her husband (heh heh).
I wonder what it must be like to be a former president and be required to show up for stuff like this. I wonder if they ever just want to disappear and not know anything about all this ever again.
9:19 -- The former presidents are coming outside now.
Babs is just leaving her guy in the dust to fend for himself, isn't she?!
Wow, listen to the cheers for the Clintons. Actually, there were more cheers for the Carters than the elder shrubs, too. But a massive cheer for Hill and Bill.
9:22 -- First glimpse of the Lincoln Bible. Chills.
9:22 -- Oh, there are the girls! What will it be like to have little girls in the White House now? Big cheer for the girls as they come outside.
9:28 -- And the outgoing ladies are outside. Oh boy. Won't be long now.
You can hear the O-ba-ma chant starting to roll. Has that ever happened at an inauguration before?
9:30 -- Here come the NEW ladies. What is that red box Michelle is carrying? My cielo thinks it's her purse but I'm not sure. She wasn't carrying it before.
Big cheer for them as they come outside.
They're also showing shrub make his way to through the capitol...he looks like he'd rather be anywhere else but here. He makes a slap-handshake to an aide, who immediately wipes her hand on her clipboard. I kid you not.
9:35 -- shrub and darth cheney making their way outside. Quiet clapping, that's about it.
I'm always a little suprised by how these supposedly opposing party members are quite cordial and friendly with each other. On the other hand, it's good to have a peaceful transfer of power, and this is an example of that.
9:38 -- Biden is coming outside. And they're showing Obama behind, looking completely, I have to say, regal, and dignified, and completely in the moment.
HUGE cheer from the crowd as Biden comes out...probably they know who's next!
OK, my cielo can hardly sit still! WE know who's next, too!
The O-ba-ma chant is rolling again...
9:42 -- And here he comes. I can't sit still either! Trumpet fanfare. I think I'm going to cry.
9:46 -- Diane Feinstein looks, and sounds, absolutely giddy.
She references the "non-violent struggles for equality" which made this day possible. Nice.
9:48 -- OK, Rick Warren. Not much excitement about that from the crowd. "You are loving to everyone you have made." His emphasis, you gotta wonder if he means it. "Dr. King and a great cloud of witnesses are shouting in heaven." Nice.
Not bad. Although going for the Lord's Prayer is dancing a little to close to the line between church and state, if you ask me.
9:53 -- Aretha looks FABULOUS. And sounds fabulous, too! NOW we're talking.
9:57 -- The oath for the vice-president. Also using Lincoln's Bible, looks like.
This means darth cheney is now officially out. Thanks be to God.
9:59 -- Special musical interlude. Just to make us crazier! Oh, it's lovely. Echoing Copeland, because John Williams rarely has an original idea...but still lovely. Look how much fun Yo-Yo Ma is having.
'Tis a gift to be simple, 'tis a gift to be free...
10:04 -- THE OATH. We stood, too. Poor guy, so nervous!
What part of that did shrub not understand?
10:07 -- The shrub era is officially over. And now for the speech!
He's sticking it to shrub and his administration...quietly, subtly, but it's there.
Honest, but hopeful. Steeped in history and scripture.
10:27 -- The Yes We Can chant is rolling now.
10:28 -- The Inaugural Poem. "Praise Song for the Day."
"repairing the things in need of repair..."
"we walk into that which we cannot yet see..."
"praise song for struggle...for every hand-lettered sign..."
"what if the mightiest word is love..." oh yes...
I remember when Maya Angelou read her poem at Clinton's 1st Inaugural, which still gives me chills.
10:32 -- Rev. Lowery with the benediction -- "God of our weary years..." oooohhhhhh.....now I'm going to weep. Seriously.
"Tanks beaten into tractors." I love that. Great modern interpretation of the ancient text.
10:40 -- It's a brand new day. A brand new day.
P.S. At 10:52am, mountain time, the cheneys were driven away from the capitol.
At 10:53am, mountain time, the Obamas quietly escorted shrub and his wife to the helicopter, which bore the shrubbies, senior and younger, away.
Goodbye, and good riddance.
My cielo just started singing an old pentecostal song: "los demonios que atormentan a la gente ya se van..." (The demons which torment the people are on their way out...). Heehee!
Enjoy the parade, y'all!!!
I'm still surprised how tall Michelle is. I didn't know it was tradition for the first-ladies to exchange gifts (according to the announcer). Apparently they are all now having coffee.
They showed the House getting itself together to go to the inauguration. There was some joking and hollering about what order they would be filing out. Clearly getting the House to get itself together is rather like herding cats.
8:15 -- They're seating VIPs at the capitol. I wish they would tell us who they are.
8:23 -- Look at all the crowds. Wow. Everyone looks so joyful.
8:40 -- I love all the classrooms calling in to say they're watching, and the kids cheering!
8:43 -- They're starting to leave from the White House. Anyone else notice how short Ms. Biden's skirt is? Wouldn't she be cold?
I can feel my own energy and excitement starting to build the closer we get.
Here come Laura and Michelle. Michelle looks fabulous. And alive, compared to Laura.
You can tell how heavily armored those cars are.
Darth Cheney in a wheelchair? What's up with that? Hard to have any sympathy for that guy, I'm sorry.
Thanks to google, I learned he pulled a back muscle moving boxes. Something poetic about that.
HERE HE COMES. Obama and shrubbie. Shrubbie leaving the White House for the last time.
THANK YOU GOD.
It's hard to believe it's really happening, but it is.
8:54 -- The motorcade is on its way. People lining the route cheering...my cielo wonders how much of the cheering is joy that shrub is going, going, gone...I know for me it's equal parts that and cheering for Obama.
9:00 -- They've arrived at the Capitol. The ladies are inside, and Biden. And here's Obama and shrub. Cut to the crowd -- people are already in tears.
Supreme court filing in now. And now what seems to be the new cabinet members. Yup, there's Ken Salazar, my former Senator and now soon-to-be Secretary of the Interior, wearing a cowboy hat.
I love that CSPAN shuts up and just lets you have your own experience watching.
Clarence Thomas is laughing it up over there. I wonder what he's thinking about today.
9:12 -- When did Al Gore's hair get so gray?
9:13 -- The elder shrubs have matching purple scarves? OK. My cielo is stunned at how frail shrub sr. looks.
Here's Jimmy Carter. Just a decent human being.
The new Secretary of State and her husband (heh heh).
I wonder what it must be like to be a former president and be required to show up for stuff like this. I wonder if they ever just want to disappear and not know anything about all this ever again.
9:19 -- The former presidents are coming outside now.
Babs is just leaving her guy in the dust to fend for himself, isn't she?!
Wow, listen to the cheers for the Clintons. Actually, there were more cheers for the Carters than the elder shrubs, too. But a massive cheer for Hill and Bill.
9:22 -- First glimpse of the Lincoln Bible. Chills.
9:22 -- Oh, there are the girls! What will it be like to have little girls in the White House now? Big cheer for the girls as they come outside.
9:28 -- And the outgoing ladies are outside. Oh boy. Won't be long now.
You can hear the O-ba-ma chant starting to roll. Has that ever happened at an inauguration before?
9:30 -- Here come the NEW ladies. What is that red box Michelle is carrying? My cielo thinks it's her purse but I'm not sure. She wasn't carrying it before.
Big cheer for them as they come outside.
They're also showing shrub make his way to through the capitol...he looks like he'd rather be anywhere else but here. He makes a slap-handshake to an aide, who immediately wipes her hand on her clipboard. I kid you not.
9:35 -- shrub and darth cheney making their way outside. Quiet clapping, that's about it.
I'm always a little suprised by how these supposedly opposing party members are quite cordial and friendly with each other. On the other hand, it's good to have a peaceful transfer of power, and this is an example of that.
9:38 -- Biden is coming outside. And they're showing Obama behind, looking completely, I have to say, regal, and dignified, and completely in the moment.
HUGE cheer from the crowd as Biden comes out...probably they know who's next!
OK, my cielo can hardly sit still! WE know who's next, too!
The O-ba-ma chant is rolling again...
9:42 -- And here he comes. I can't sit still either! Trumpet fanfare. I think I'm going to cry.
9:46 -- Diane Feinstein looks, and sounds, absolutely giddy.
She references the "non-violent struggles for equality" which made this day possible. Nice.
9:48 -- OK, Rick Warren. Not much excitement about that from the crowd. "You are loving to everyone you have made." His emphasis, you gotta wonder if he means it. "Dr. King and a great cloud of witnesses are shouting in heaven." Nice.
Not bad. Although going for the Lord's Prayer is dancing a little to close to the line between church and state, if you ask me.
9:53 -- Aretha looks FABULOUS. And sounds fabulous, too! NOW we're talking.
9:57 -- The oath for the vice-president. Also using Lincoln's Bible, looks like.
This means darth cheney is now officially out. Thanks be to God.
9:59 -- Special musical interlude. Just to make us crazier! Oh, it's lovely. Echoing Copeland, because John Williams rarely has an original idea...but still lovely. Look how much fun Yo-Yo Ma is having.
'Tis a gift to be simple, 'tis a gift to be free...
10:04 -- THE OATH. We stood, too. Poor guy, so nervous!
PRESERVE, PROTECT, AND DEFEND THE CONSTITUTION, SO HELP YOU GOD.
What part of that did shrub not understand?
10:07 -- The shrub era is officially over. And now for the speech!
He's sticking it to shrub and his administration...quietly, subtly, but it's there.
Honest, but hopeful. Steeped in history and scripture.
10:27 -- The Yes We Can chant is rolling now.
10:28 -- The Inaugural Poem. "Praise Song for the Day."
"repairing the things in need of repair..."
"we walk into that which we cannot yet see..."
"praise song for struggle...for every hand-lettered sign..."
"what if the mightiest word is love..." oh yes...
I remember when Maya Angelou read her poem at Clinton's 1st Inaugural, which still gives me chills.
10:32 -- Rev. Lowery with the benediction -- "God of our weary years..." oooohhhhhh.....now I'm going to weep. Seriously.
"Tanks beaten into tractors." I love that. Great modern interpretation of the ancient text.
Amen, amen, and amen.
10:40 -- It's a brand new day. A brand new day.
May we be worthy of it.
P.S. At 10:52am, mountain time, the cheneys were driven away from the capitol.
At 10:53am, mountain time, the Obamas quietly escorted shrub and his wife to the helicopter, which bore the shrubbies, senior and younger, away.
Goodbye, and good riddance.
My cielo just started singing an old pentecostal song: "los demonios que atormentan a la gente ya se van..." (The demons which torment the people are on their way out...). Heehee!
Enjoy the parade, y'all!!!
Sunday, January 18, 2009
Towanda Prays In The Dark
Tonight I got done setting up for our church gathering a bit early, so I wandered upstairs to see how the renovations at HappyChurch are going. I like to check in on their progress every week if I have time, and helps me feel connected to them.
It's getting on towards two years since I discovered HappyChurch. Kind of hard to believe. My first sermon was Palm Sunday, 2007, and then I did the 4-month interim while their pastor was on sabbatical, and then I did my field ed. internship with them, and then once my own new church started meeting last June (in HappyChurch's basement for free), I still have kept coming once a month, on the 4th Sunday, contributing to worship leadership and preaching occasionally.
When I walked into the sanctuary tonight, I suddenly felt moved to sit down in a pew, and just be still. So I did. I thought about the first day I came "to the office" as interim, after the pastor had gone, and it was just me. I was alone in the church, and I wandered around getting my bearings, figuring out the space and how to feel in it. I came into the sanctuary and felt a little overwhelmed, suddenly, by what seemed like a huge and sudden responsibility. So I knelt on the steps leading up to the dais (which aren't there anymore with the renovation) and prayed that I would do a good job, and that everything would be ok.
Which it was. It was HappyChurch that helped me believe that I could be a pastor. They didn't freak out when I got arrested. They've supported this vision for this base community, egalitarian model, liberationist, bilingual church from the beginning. I'm blessed to have found them.
Sitting there, I began to pray, and cry a little. I feel very thankful, and aware that big things are underway, and soon. Tomorrow we should find out if we'll get the space in Aurora, which we've been praying about for months. Tomorrow we'll finalize the partnership agreement and call letter between HappyChurch and my church and me...which means ordination is that much closer.
There are times when all of this is so frightening, when I have no idea if what I'm doing is the right thing, what God would have me do. I've struggled with not having a good metaphor/image to hold on to to keep me going.
So I was praying, really just saying "thank you" and "I hope I'm doing the right thing." I tried to meditate on the image of St. Francis building the church that my spiritual director suggested. Brick by brick. Create the space. They'll come.
I made myself giggle a bit when I realized that I'm pastoring the "field of dreams" church...if you build it, they will come. Of course, when Ray first starts building the field, no one is there, it's just a voice urging him on...but then little by little....
(I should add, we have a core group of folks, who find it very hard to come on Sunday nights...so sometimes no one's there but me and my cielo. The move to Aurora should change that, since we'll be able to meet on Sunday mornings. Had two new folks come to our info meeting tonight.)
The field of dreams church. Well, makes sense considering how much I love baseball, no?
Anyway, in my praying/meditating/whatever, I began to think about my little boat and paddle, why that image was not working for me, seemed to have disappeared from helpfulness. Then suddenly, there it was. Me and my paddle and Jesus. On the water, in the dark, no moon.
That's what it is right now. In the dark, no moon. No way to tell what's coming. Going forward (as far as we can tell...after all it's dark) anyway.
Back in the spring when I was shooting the class-five rapids, it was bright daylight. Then after graduation, Jesus made me get out of the boat and sit on the bank under the trees. It was dusk/dark, and he cooked fish over the fire, and gave it to me to eat, and told me to rest. I spent some time laying back in the leaves watching the starry sky.
I'm not sure when I got back in the boat, but I think I didn't realize it because I kept trying to imagine it in daylight. But it's not.
On the water, in the dark, no moon. It's not class-five rapids, but I can't tell where we going, no way to know if there's disaster ahead, or glory.
As I prayed, it was clear: Jesus is still in the back of the boat. Keep paddling. Yes, it's scary, but keep going anyway. And it's ok to go slowly.
And I realized, no moon means it's a new moon...new things, new creation. And, no moon means new moon and she'll come back out full again.
Praying there in the dark, in this sweet little sanctuary of this sweet little church, I felt more centered than I have in many weeks.
Me and my paddle and Jesus. Building the field of dreams.
OK, it's mixed metaphor, but whatever works, right?
Peace, y'all --
It's getting on towards two years since I discovered HappyChurch. Kind of hard to believe. My first sermon was Palm Sunday, 2007, and then I did the 4-month interim while their pastor was on sabbatical, and then I did my field ed. internship with them, and then once my own new church started meeting last June (in HappyChurch's basement for free), I still have kept coming once a month, on the 4th Sunday, contributing to worship leadership and preaching occasionally.
When I walked into the sanctuary tonight, I suddenly felt moved to sit down in a pew, and just be still. So I did. I thought about the first day I came "to the office" as interim, after the pastor had gone, and it was just me. I was alone in the church, and I wandered around getting my bearings, figuring out the space and how to feel in it. I came into the sanctuary and felt a little overwhelmed, suddenly, by what seemed like a huge and sudden responsibility. So I knelt on the steps leading up to the dais (which aren't there anymore with the renovation) and prayed that I would do a good job, and that everything would be ok.
Which it was. It was HappyChurch that helped me believe that I could be a pastor. They didn't freak out when I got arrested. They've supported this vision for this base community, egalitarian model, liberationist, bilingual church from the beginning. I'm blessed to have found them.
Sitting there, I began to pray, and cry a little. I feel very thankful, and aware that big things are underway, and soon. Tomorrow we should find out if we'll get the space in Aurora, which we've been praying about for months. Tomorrow we'll finalize the partnership agreement and call letter between HappyChurch and my church and me...which means ordination is that much closer.
There are times when all of this is so frightening, when I have no idea if what I'm doing is the right thing, what God would have me do. I've struggled with not having a good metaphor/image to hold on to to keep me going.
So I was praying, really just saying "thank you" and "I hope I'm doing the right thing." I tried to meditate on the image of St. Francis building the church that my spiritual director suggested. Brick by brick. Create the space. They'll come.
I made myself giggle a bit when I realized that I'm pastoring the "field of dreams" church...if you build it, they will come. Of course, when Ray first starts building the field, no one is there, it's just a voice urging him on...but then little by little....
(I should add, we have a core group of folks, who find it very hard to come on Sunday nights...so sometimes no one's there but me and my cielo. The move to Aurora should change that, since we'll be able to meet on Sunday mornings. Had two new folks come to our info meeting tonight.)
The field of dreams church. Well, makes sense considering how much I love baseball, no?
Anyway, in my praying/meditating/whatever, I began to think about my little boat and paddle, why that image was not working for me, seemed to have disappeared from helpfulness. Then suddenly, there it was. Me and my paddle and Jesus. On the water, in the dark, no moon.
That's what it is right now. In the dark, no moon. No way to tell what's coming. Going forward (as far as we can tell...after all it's dark) anyway.
Back in the spring when I was shooting the class-five rapids, it was bright daylight. Then after graduation, Jesus made me get out of the boat and sit on the bank under the trees. It was dusk/dark, and he cooked fish over the fire, and gave it to me to eat, and told me to rest. I spent some time laying back in the leaves watching the starry sky.
I'm not sure when I got back in the boat, but I think I didn't realize it because I kept trying to imagine it in daylight. But it's not.
On the water, in the dark, no moon. It's not class-five rapids, but I can't tell where we going, no way to know if there's disaster ahead, or glory.
As I prayed, it was clear: Jesus is still in the back of the boat. Keep paddling. Yes, it's scary, but keep going anyway. And it's ok to go slowly.
And I realized, no moon means it's a new moon...new things, new creation. And, no moon means new moon and she'll come back out full again.
Praying there in the dark, in this sweet little sanctuary of this sweet little church, I felt more centered than I have in many weeks.
Me and my paddle and Jesus. Building the field of dreams.
OK, it's mixed metaphor, but whatever works, right?
Peace, y'all --
Towanda Makes Soup
I made vegetable soup today, for a church gathering we had tonight. I'd never made soup before and my cielo thought I should write the recipe down, so here you go.
First, think about what you want to have in your soup. Think about how they always start soups on Iron Chef: Carrots, Onions, Celery (the fancy-pants name for that is Mirepoix, which I never would have known without Iron Chef). So I'll have to have carrots, onions, celery.
And garlic. Gotta have garlic.
And beans. Maybe one of this multi-bean mix things (without the seasoning packet).
And a parsnip. I don't know why, but it should have a parsnip. Mostly because I just like saying "parsnip."
And corn. And tomatoes, for a splash of bright color.
Oh, I have fresh rosemary...frozen in the freezer, but still fresh. That might be good. And some other herbs, whatever we've got over there in the spice rack.
And I should get some vegetable broth. Don't want a watery-tasting soup.
OK.
Now I go to the local Sunflower. We have carrots and onion and garlic at home, so I don't need those.
Get the celery, and the parsnip. Remember that you forgot about potatoes -- what's a veggie soup without potatoes? Get potatoes (3 yukon golds).
Get two box-thingies of organic veggie broth. Wonder if that'll be enough. Tell yourself you can add some water if necessary.
Get a can of whole tomatoes.
Go to the frozen section because you know they have fresh-frozen veggies from Oregon (I'm blanking on the name now), organic from sustainable farms. Pick up corn. Look at the spinach. Think about it. Decide not to.
Go hunting for beans. They have multi-bean selections in the bulk section. Hmm...7 bean or 10 bean? 10 bean also has pearled barley...that'd be a nice addition. Get the 10-bean. The colors are also brighter, some red lentils and red beans brighten it up. Probably about 1.5 cups.
Talk with my cielo -- can you think of anything else? What about spinach? Decide to get the spinach.
Buy the stuff. Go home. Soak the beans overnight.
OK.
Now, chop the carrots, onion, celery. Not to fine, just chunky, cuz it's soup. I have no idea how much of each, I figure about equal amounts of each should do it. Probably about 1.5 cups each. Less onion than that actually.
Turns out the onion was a purple onion...I was imagining yellow, but purple will be really nice.
Chop up 3 cloves garlic.
Pour extra-virgin olive oil in the bottom of the stock pot, enough to coat the bottom pretty well. Dump in the MIREPOIX and let that cook on...medium-ish heat? Oh, salt, and pepper (but not too much pepper). Be amazed at how good that smells, and it's just carrots, onions, celery.
Chop up the other stuff, except the corn and spinach which are already ready. Discover there's a small zucchini in the fridge, chop that up, too. Stir the mirepoix every so often.
By the way, don't peel any of the vegetables. Daddy always says most of the nutrition is in the peel, plus it looks more rustic.
When the onions start to look translucent and the carrots and celery look...uh, sweaty, toss in the rosemary. Then add other stuff in the spice rack: oregano, parsley, basil, savory, thyme, saffron. A little more salt. Let the herbs cook in there a few minutes.
Look at the crockpot. Is it big enough? My cielo thinks so.
Put beans in the crockpot. Add the other chopped veggies, top with the mirepoix/herb mix. Realize there is no room to add any liquid, much less the corn and spinach and tomatoes. Put it all back in the stock pot, add the corn, spinach, tomatoes, and stock. Stir. Add a little more salt.
Add a little water to the veggie stock box-thingies to swirl out the veggie goodness still in the bottom. Pour that in the pot.
Let it all come to a boil, and boil a bit. Then turn it down to low to simmer until it's time for the meeting. Which was, like, 6 hours.
Somewhere along the line discover there's a little bit of pasta in the cabinet, little multi-colored spiral-things, not enough to call a meal. Toss those in.
Have your cielo taste it, tell her to go ahead and add more salt since she thinks she needs it.
Enjoy the smell all afternoon while you watch the inauguration concert at the Lincoln Memorial.
Enjoy with bread and interesting conversation. Look forward to having it again tomorrow.
Towanda's Veggie Soup
First, think about what you want to have in your soup. Think about how they always start soups on Iron Chef: Carrots, Onions, Celery (the fancy-pants name for that is Mirepoix, which I never would have known without Iron Chef). So I'll have to have carrots, onions, celery.
And garlic. Gotta have garlic.
And beans. Maybe one of this multi-bean mix things (without the seasoning packet).
And a parsnip. I don't know why, but it should have a parsnip. Mostly because I just like saying "parsnip."
And corn. And tomatoes, for a splash of bright color.
Oh, I have fresh rosemary...frozen in the freezer, but still fresh. That might be good. And some other herbs, whatever we've got over there in the spice rack.
And I should get some vegetable broth. Don't want a watery-tasting soup.
OK.
Now I go to the local Sunflower. We have carrots and onion and garlic at home, so I don't need those.
Get the celery, and the parsnip. Remember that you forgot about potatoes -- what's a veggie soup without potatoes? Get potatoes (3 yukon golds).
Get two box-thingies of organic veggie broth. Wonder if that'll be enough. Tell yourself you can add some water if necessary.
Get a can of whole tomatoes.
Go to the frozen section because you know they have fresh-frozen veggies from Oregon (I'm blanking on the name now), organic from sustainable farms. Pick up corn. Look at the spinach. Think about it. Decide not to.
Go hunting for beans. They have multi-bean selections in the bulk section. Hmm...7 bean or 10 bean? 10 bean also has pearled barley...that'd be a nice addition. Get the 10-bean. The colors are also brighter, some red lentils and red beans brighten it up. Probably about 1.5 cups.
Talk with my cielo -- can you think of anything else? What about spinach? Decide to get the spinach.
Buy the stuff. Go home. Soak the beans overnight.
OK.
Now, chop the carrots, onion, celery. Not to fine, just chunky, cuz it's soup. I have no idea how much of each, I figure about equal amounts of each should do it. Probably about 1.5 cups each. Less onion than that actually.
Turns out the onion was a purple onion...I was imagining yellow, but purple will be really nice.
Chop up 3 cloves garlic.
Pour extra-virgin olive oil in the bottom of the stock pot, enough to coat the bottom pretty well. Dump in the MIREPOIX and let that cook on...medium-ish heat? Oh, salt, and pepper (but not too much pepper). Be amazed at how good that smells, and it's just carrots, onions, celery.
Chop up the other stuff, except the corn and spinach which are already ready. Discover there's a small zucchini in the fridge, chop that up, too. Stir the mirepoix every so often.
By the way, don't peel any of the vegetables. Daddy always says most of the nutrition is in the peel, plus it looks more rustic.
When the onions start to look translucent and the carrots and celery look...uh, sweaty, toss in the rosemary. Then add other stuff in the spice rack: oregano, parsley, basil, savory, thyme, saffron. A little more salt. Let the herbs cook in there a few minutes.
Look at the crockpot. Is it big enough? My cielo thinks so.
Put beans in the crockpot. Add the other chopped veggies, top with the mirepoix/herb mix. Realize there is no room to add any liquid, much less the corn and spinach and tomatoes. Put it all back in the stock pot, add the corn, spinach, tomatoes, and stock. Stir. Add a little more salt.
Add a little water to the veggie stock box-thingies to swirl out the veggie goodness still in the bottom. Pour that in the pot.
Let it all come to a boil, and boil a bit. Then turn it down to low to simmer until it's time for the meeting. Which was, like, 6 hours.
Somewhere along the line discover there's a little bit of pasta in the cabinet, little multi-colored spiral-things, not enough to call a meal. Toss those in.
Have your cielo taste it, tell her to go ahead and add more salt since she thinks she needs it.
Enjoy the smell all afternoon while you watch the inauguration concert at the Lincoln Memorial.
Enjoy with bread and interesting conversation. Look forward to having it again tomorrow.
Saturday, January 17, 2009
So Great A Cloud of Witnesses
I saw this at Diary of an Anxious Black Woman. Isn't it amazing? I cannot help but be moved by the historical import of what is happening this weekend.
I was watching Obama's speech in Philly at the start of his whistle-stop train tour a few minutes ago, and I liked what he said: that the inauguration is not the end of all our work, but only the beginning. He kept emphasizing the hard, hard work we all have to do, including him. And I believed him. I believe he's going to work hard.
I don't think he's going to solve everything, no. But I do believe he's going to work his butt off and make some things better, which is a damn sight better than the lazy, incurious fool we've had in the White House the last 8 years.
Was that mean? Unchristian? I don't care. Look at that picture again: As I said, I don't think Obama will solve everything. But I do think he will hold himself accountable to that cloud of witnesses, and that makes us a better country already.
Tuesday, January 13, 2009
Thinking About the New Year, and Goats
The cats are curled up in their basket together by the heating vent. Punkinseed is licking Dodger's head, and vice versa. It's rather sweet. BearGoddess once told us she'd never seen two cats who were so cuddly with each other. But pretty soon, one will have had enough and will jump out of the basket to nap elsewhere. For a while.
The new year is starting off with great promise for me/us, even though so much is unknown. I'm rather quite thankful to have 2008 over with, and whatever 2009 may bring, certainly it can not be anywhere near as stressful as last year. Or even the first 6 months of last year, which took the next 6 months to get over.
I started going to spiritual direction again a couple of weeks ago. I think in many ways I was just worn out, spiritually, emotionally...but I thought I should be better. My guide reminded me that we passed the anniversary of the arrest in October, and in her listening it sounded like my energy dropped significantly after that. Which it did. You can tell that here at the Window, too.
This is why you go to spiritual direction, see. For someone to listen to what is being said underneath the saying of it. She offered me St. Francis as a model -- St. Francis quietly building the church (the church, and maybe myself) back together, even when it was just him and the birds and the sun and the moon, St. Francis talking and singing with the animals. I liked that. I remembered that I have a St. Francis carving, from New Mexico, which sat in my carrel but has been in the bag into which I packed all my carrel stuff back in June, and has yet to be unpacked. Still. Even though I told her I would.
But I like imaging St. Francis and the animals, and I think it's what I like about going to the farm to hang out with the goats. It's just simple, and quiet, and I feel so calmed down because I have to slow down -- I get to slow down -- because you can't be all rowdy with goats, you have to be quiet or they get all riled up and then it's nearly impossible to put them to bed at night. Anyway, I get to slow down and just speak sweet to the mamas when I try to milk them, and talk to the little ones, and move slowly among them and scratch their heads and look into their surprisingly tender eyes. I thank the mamas for their patience with me for being so new and unskilled at milking. I thank the chickens for their eggs. I tease Arlo for being spoiled. I inhale the clean, manure-y smell of the barnyard and pray the bears and mountain lions leave these sweet animals alone.
Here's a story: When I was about 9 years old, my family all went to the grocery store in Austin, TX. We'd just moved there from Arkansas so daddy could go to seminary. Anyway, we went to the store, and when we came out, there was a family there selling baby goats. I don't really remember what they looked like, but I do remember that I wanted one. Badly. I still remember the little chant I made up and hollered in the back of the car all the way home:
I want a little baby goat!
I want a little baby goat!
I don't care what anybody says,
I want a little baby goat!
Well I guess I sort of have my own, adopted, little baby goat now, Arlo -- who is not quite so little now but who has his own byline on the Westfarm blog...isn't he cute!
I have been thinking about my prayers for 2009 -- not my resolutions or even my intentions, but my prayers. One of my prayers is to spend more time up at the farm. It's good self-care for me (and it helps support local, sustainable agriculture).
Other prayers I have for 2009:
--My little base community that we started in June is planning some big steps, particularly moving from a space that's free to a space we would have to pay for, so that we can be in the neighborhood where we feel called to be, the latino immigrant neighborhood where people are really suffering from anti-immigrant sentiment and prejudice. We have to find the money to be able to do this. So we're doing the work we need to do, and praying.
-- I should be ordained within the next few months. HappyChurch has agreed to partner w/my community, naming it has a ministry of theirs so that they can call me and I can be ordained. We are finalizing the partnership agreement and call letter over the next couple of weeks, and then HappyChurch will vote on it all at their congregational meeting on February 1. I am so thankful for their support.
-- I enjoy my part-time work and am thankful that it pays me just enough to pay my bills plus a little extra. School loans begin coming due this month, and I am also thankful that I was able to consolidate almost all of them and will end up paying about half of what I was originally going to. HUGE relief!
-- I pray that as the year unfolds, I'll continue to be able to balance my job, my ministry, and my activism, and still protect time for self-care and for cielo-care. So far I think we are doing well at this, although things got a little wacky in December.
-- I am looking forward to celebrating my cielo's graduation from Iliff in June. I am so proud of you, mi amor!
-- We are praying for a new house, discerning whether we should buy (for the first time) or rent again. We just know that we are ready to be out of this house. This house has served us well but having a basement neighbor has been trying. It's not really the person's fault, but it has been months since we've slept a full night through because she gets up very early to let the dog out, and the stairs and door are right next to our bedroom. We hear everything. The bathroom fan downstairs rattles our bedroom floor, for example. Anyway, we are just done, and we are "praying in" a new home. Here are some specifics, in case you want to help: 3 bedrooms, a place for the kitties' box that's not in our living space (like a basement or something), lots of windows for light but with windows that are energy-efficient and raise up-and-down for using window fans (not these ancient crank windows like we have now), wood floors, decent-sized kitchen, yard, not too close to the street, off-street parking. And, of course, in our price range.
-- I'm praying for better health this year. I had colds at least 4 times that I can think of in 2008, including during my trial and the last two weeks of the year, as well as bad allergies. I usually am good for maybe one cold a year. I want to take better care of myself physically, take my vitamins, start doing yoga again, start walking.
-- I guess, too, I'm just praying for faithfulness as things unfold, praying for my "hope muscles" to regain their strength and suppleness, praying for tenderness and strength for myself.
-- And peace, so many prayers for peace.
Amen.
The new year is starting off with great promise for me/us, even though so much is unknown. I'm rather quite thankful to have 2008 over with, and whatever 2009 may bring, certainly it can not be anywhere near as stressful as last year. Or even the first 6 months of last year, which took the next 6 months to get over.
I started going to spiritual direction again a couple of weeks ago. I think in many ways I was just worn out, spiritually, emotionally...but I thought I should be better. My guide reminded me that we passed the anniversary of the arrest in October, and in her listening it sounded like my energy dropped significantly after that. Which it did. You can tell that here at the Window, too.
This is why you go to spiritual direction, see. For someone to listen to what is being said underneath the saying of it. She offered me St. Francis as a model -- St. Francis quietly building the church (the church, and maybe myself) back together, even when it was just him and the birds and the sun and the moon, St. Francis talking and singing with the animals. I liked that. I remembered that I have a St. Francis carving, from New Mexico, which sat in my carrel but has been in the bag into which I packed all my carrel stuff back in June, and has yet to be unpacked. Still. Even though I told her I would.
But I like imaging St. Francis and the animals, and I think it's what I like about going to the farm to hang out with the goats. It's just simple, and quiet, and I feel so calmed down because I have to slow down -- I get to slow down -- because you can't be all rowdy with goats, you have to be quiet or they get all riled up and then it's nearly impossible to put them to bed at night. Anyway, I get to slow down and just speak sweet to the mamas when I try to milk them, and talk to the little ones, and move slowly among them and scratch their heads and look into their surprisingly tender eyes. I thank the mamas for their patience with me for being so new and unskilled at milking. I thank the chickens for their eggs. I tease Arlo for being spoiled. I inhale the clean, manure-y smell of the barnyard and pray the bears and mountain lions leave these sweet animals alone.
Here's a story: When I was about 9 years old, my family all went to the grocery store in Austin, TX. We'd just moved there from Arkansas so daddy could go to seminary. Anyway, we went to the store, and when we came out, there was a family there selling baby goats. I don't really remember what they looked like, but I do remember that I wanted one. Badly. I still remember the little chant I made up and hollered in the back of the car all the way home:
I want a little baby goat!
I want a little baby goat!
I don't care what anybody says,
I want a little baby goat!
Well I guess I sort of have my own, adopted, little baby goat now, Arlo -- who is not quite so little now but who has his own byline on the Westfarm blog...isn't he cute!
I have been thinking about my prayers for 2009 -- not my resolutions or even my intentions, but my prayers. One of my prayers is to spend more time up at the farm. It's good self-care for me (and it helps support local, sustainable agriculture).
Other prayers I have for 2009:
--My little base community that we started in June is planning some big steps, particularly moving from a space that's free to a space we would have to pay for, so that we can be in the neighborhood where we feel called to be, the latino immigrant neighborhood where people are really suffering from anti-immigrant sentiment and prejudice. We have to find the money to be able to do this. So we're doing the work we need to do, and praying.
-- I should be ordained within the next few months. HappyChurch has agreed to partner w/my community, naming it has a ministry of theirs so that they can call me and I can be ordained. We are finalizing the partnership agreement and call letter over the next couple of weeks, and then HappyChurch will vote on it all at their congregational meeting on February 1. I am so thankful for their support.
-- I enjoy my part-time work and am thankful that it pays me just enough to pay my bills plus a little extra. School loans begin coming due this month, and I am also thankful that I was able to consolidate almost all of them and will end up paying about half of what I was originally going to. HUGE relief!
-- I pray that as the year unfolds, I'll continue to be able to balance my job, my ministry, and my activism, and still protect time for self-care and for cielo-care. So far I think we are doing well at this, although things got a little wacky in December.
-- I am looking forward to celebrating my cielo's graduation from Iliff in June. I am so proud of you, mi amor!
-- We are praying for a new house, discerning whether we should buy (for the first time) or rent again. We just know that we are ready to be out of this house. This house has served us well but having a basement neighbor has been trying. It's not really the person's fault, but it has been months since we've slept a full night through because she gets up very early to let the dog out, and the stairs and door are right next to our bedroom. We hear everything. The bathroom fan downstairs rattles our bedroom floor, for example. Anyway, we are just done, and we are "praying in" a new home. Here are some specifics, in case you want to help: 3 bedrooms, a place for the kitties' box that's not in our living space (like a basement or something), lots of windows for light but with windows that are energy-efficient and raise up-and-down for using window fans (not these ancient crank windows like we have now), wood floors, decent-sized kitchen, yard, not too close to the street, off-street parking. And, of course, in our price range.
-- I'm praying for better health this year. I had colds at least 4 times that I can think of in 2008, including during my trial and the last two weeks of the year, as well as bad allergies. I usually am good for maybe one cold a year. I want to take better care of myself physically, take my vitamins, start doing yoga again, start walking.
-- I guess, too, I'm just praying for faithfulness as things unfold, praying for my "hope muscles" to regain their strength and suppleness, praying for tenderness and strength for myself.
-- And peace, so many prayers for peace.
Amen.
Sunday, January 4, 2009
Happy New Year From Arlo
This is Arlo, with his human mama, Lori, and Cap over there in the corner. Isn't Arlo cute? Remember when I held him when he was just one week old? Now he's a bigger boy, and very cute!
We went up to the farm last Sunday, and I got to help Lori put the goats (and the sheeps and the chickens) to bed. I got to try my hand at milking the goats, including Arlo's grandma, but I was not very good at it. And they noticed! One of the girls tried to sit on me, gradually leaning over until she was almost laying across my back -- her way of saying, "I know you are not my mama, would you please let go?"
I loved hanging out with Lori and the goats, talking to them quietly so they wouldn't be freaked out by my appearance in the middle of their routine. We rounded them up into their "apartments" for the night, tossing in fresh hay and grain and closing up the doors so they'd stay warm and toasty and safe from the bears and mountain lions that live nearby. I found very calming walking among them and and talking to them and taking part in the whole routine.
Lori makes goat's-milk soap and cheese, both of which we love, and soon will be starting up a blog to promote her products and talk about the lives of the goats and other farm doings. I'll put up the link as soon as it's ready.
Thursday, January 1, 2009
The New Year's Meme
Which is, to post the first line of the first post of each month of 2008. In my case I skip the first post if it is only a quote or video or link -- I have to at least have made some sort of commentary. Here goes (click on the month for the full post):
January:
The revgals Friday Five:
1. Do you make New Year resolutions?
Not really. I forgot about them, or wanted to think up something more creative than the traditional "eat healthy, exercise more..." and couldn't...so I just stopped doing it years ago.
February:
I Am Chorus nominated me for this award! Thank you!
March:
Yes, that's right.
April:
Well, if I had to come back from Mexico, at least I have come back to baseball season!
May:
Deliberate
Being a poem in the margin of the notebook page after watching clips of the film "Romero," about the life and assassination of Monseñor Oscar Romero, including the one above, in class this morning.
June:
I cleaned out my carrel yesterday (more on that later), which I hadn't really been to in a week or so.
July:
One of the things I like about baseball is that almost every game, you see something you haven't seen before.
August:
You know who you are, FSN Rocky Mountain and ESPN.
September:
You know, for someone who is unemployed, I have been awfully busy lately.
October:
What a day, what a year.
November:
I love Roger Ebert's writing.
December:
I used to go to church with this amazing woman when we lived in Tucson.
---------------
So there you go. One of the most interesting things I noticed was that I posted the most during May -- 34 total posts, more than there are days in the month. If you remember anything at all about May, that was the month of finishing all my schoolwork in order to graduate AND going on trial...how in the world did I figure out how to post that much? I am totally laughing at myself.
The fewest posts came in August...probably about the time the post-graduation euphoria wore off and the "what-the-F-am-I-doing" kicked in...I notice there is less "me" and more "Thoughts" as the year wound down, as well. I wonder if I was just worn out...still worn out, in certain ways.
It's interesting to go back and review the year. There was some hard stuff, no? But good stuff, too. Life. Some of my favorite posts speak to that paradox, of the hard and the good being lived simultaneously: this one, this one, this one, this one, this one, this one, this one, this one, and this one.
I'm looking forward to a calmer year, but certainly not one without its fair share of adventure and excitement!
I'm glad y'all are all here.
Peace, y'all -- towanda
January:
The revgals Friday Five:
1. Do you make New Year resolutions?
Not really. I forgot about them, or wanted to think up something more creative than the traditional "eat healthy, exercise more..." and couldn't...so I just stopped doing it years ago.
February:
I Am Chorus nominated me for this award! Thank you!
March:
Yes, that's right.
April:
Well, if I had to come back from Mexico, at least I have come back to baseball season!
May:
Deliberate
Being a poem in the margin of the notebook page after watching clips of the film "Romero," about the life and assassination of Monseñor Oscar Romero, including the one above, in class this morning.
June:
I cleaned out my carrel yesterday (more on that later), which I hadn't really been to in a week or so.
July:
One of the things I like about baseball is that almost every game, you see something you haven't seen before.
August:
You know who you are, FSN Rocky Mountain and ESPN.
September:
You know, for someone who is unemployed, I have been awfully busy lately.
October:
What a day, what a year.
November:
I love Roger Ebert's writing.
December:
I used to go to church with this amazing woman when we lived in Tucson.
---------------
So there you go. One of the most interesting things I noticed was that I posted the most during May -- 34 total posts, more than there are days in the month. If you remember anything at all about May, that was the month of finishing all my schoolwork in order to graduate AND going on trial...how in the world did I figure out how to post that much? I am totally laughing at myself.
The fewest posts came in August...probably about the time the post-graduation euphoria wore off and the "what-the-F-am-I-doing" kicked in...I notice there is less "me" and more "Thoughts" as the year wound down, as well. I wonder if I was just worn out...still worn out, in certain ways.
It's interesting to go back and review the year. There was some hard stuff, no? But good stuff, too. Life. Some of my favorite posts speak to that paradox, of the hard and the good being lived simultaneously: this one, this one, this one, this one, this one, this one, this one, this one, and this one.
I'm looking forward to a calmer year, but certainly not one without its fair share of adventure and excitement!
I'm glad y'all are all here.
Peace, y'all -- towanda
Tuesday, December 23, 2008
Seeing Arlo
I got to go up to the farm today and see Arlo, the little premature goat I got to hold when he was just two weeks old (see the photo here). He's a bigger boy now; he'll never get to the full size since he was a preemie, but he's almost as big as his momma now.
I haven't seen him since then but I think he remembered me. He nibbled on my zipper pulls, head-butted my thighs, even jumped up to put his front hooves on my shoulders, like to hug me. When we left he clambered his front hooves up on the top of the gate so I could reach over and hug him around the neck.
I love Arlo.
I love goats, actually. I loved being out with all of them (although most of my attention was on Arlo, of course) and watching their big, beautiful, wise, and slightly mischievious eyes. For some reason I find it very calming.
P.S. Dodger would like me to note for the record that he is better than a goat. After all, he says, the goats don't paw mama awake at 4 in the morning like he does!
I haven't seen him since then but I think he remembered me. He nibbled on my zipper pulls, head-butted my thighs, even jumped up to put his front hooves on my shoulders, like to hug me. When we left he clambered his front hooves up on the top of the gate so I could reach over and hug him around the neck.
I love Arlo.
I love goats, actually. I loved being out with all of them (although most of my attention was on Arlo, of course) and watching their big, beautiful, wise, and slightly mischievious eyes. For some reason I find it very calming.
P.S. Dodger would like me to note for the record that he is better than a goat. After all, he says, the goats don't paw mama awake at 4 in the morning like he does!
Wednesday, December 10, 2008
"I Don't Like It"
So, my mom has been in the hospital for a week.
She first went to the ER last Monday with extreme back pain, and they sent her home with vicodin and a muscle relaxant which helped not at all. Daddy took her back in to the ER (at the hospital where he is chaplain) last Wednesday morning. They ended up admitting her.
They first ran all the tests making sure it wasn't her heart (she has high BP and cholesterol and a family history of heart trouble) which were fine. Tests on her back -- XRays, MRIs -- also normal. Then her lips became swollen and numb, which she thought was due to the morphine, but this concerned the doctors so the ran tests for stroke and TIA...also fine. The numbness spread to her eyelids and eyebrows (I know, weird), while the back pain began to get better. But they moved her into the surgical heart ICU so they could constantly monitor her, being concerned that the numbness/swelling could travel down her throat and stop her breathing.
They ran more tests and could not find anything. I talked to Mom on Sunday and she said the doctors said they'd never seen anything like it. They were even checking things like West Nile Virus and Lyme Disease.
By Tuesday morning, she was doing a lot better. I talked to her and she was alert, perky, in very little pain, the swelling had gone done and her speech was normal. They were going to run one more CT, and if she continued to improve, they would send her home today.
And then, she started having muscular problems in one of her arms. Then this morning my youngest brother emailed (he's the contact point for all this, bless his heart) that mom was now having weakness in her legs...and it's not because she's been laid up in a hospital bed for a week. So they kept her for more tests.
This afternoon, another email from TBro, that they were taking mom for a spinal tap because they now are thinking she might have this, Guillain-Barré syndrome. Sounds scary and it is, but if that's what she has, I think they've caught it early or she doesn't have what's described as the most severe case. At any rate, if the spinal tap is positive, they can start treating her right away. I'm also encouraged that there seems to be complete recovery even in the most severe cases.
She's getting good care there, which I'm thankful for. Daddy is tired, of course.
The "I don't like it" quote in the title is what I said to my cielo after seeing the fact sheet on Guillain-Barré and burrowing into her shoulder. I don't like that mom might have this, I don't like that I'm far away, I don't like that she's mortal, after all. I don't like it.
If you're the praying type, please say a good word for my mom and dad.
Peace.
She first went to the ER last Monday with extreme back pain, and they sent her home with vicodin and a muscle relaxant which helped not at all. Daddy took her back in to the ER (at the hospital where he is chaplain) last Wednesday morning. They ended up admitting her.
They first ran all the tests making sure it wasn't her heart (she has high BP and cholesterol and a family history of heart trouble) which were fine. Tests on her back -- XRays, MRIs -- also normal. Then her lips became swollen and numb, which she thought was due to the morphine, but this concerned the doctors so the ran tests for stroke and TIA...also fine. The numbness spread to her eyelids and eyebrows (I know, weird), while the back pain began to get better. But they moved her into the surgical heart ICU so they could constantly monitor her, being concerned that the numbness/swelling could travel down her throat and stop her breathing.
They ran more tests and could not find anything. I talked to Mom on Sunday and she said the doctors said they'd never seen anything like it. They were even checking things like West Nile Virus and Lyme Disease.
By Tuesday morning, she was doing a lot better. I talked to her and she was alert, perky, in very little pain, the swelling had gone done and her speech was normal. They were going to run one more CT, and if she continued to improve, they would send her home today.
And then, she started having muscular problems in one of her arms. Then this morning my youngest brother emailed (he's the contact point for all this, bless his heart) that mom was now having weakness in her legs...and it's not because she's been laid up in a hospital bed for a week. So they kept her for more tests.
This afternoon, another email from TBro, that they were taking mom for a spinal tap because they now are thinking she might have this, Guillain-Barré syndrome. Sounds scary and it is, but if that's what she has, I think they've caught it early or she doesn't have what's described as the most severe case. At any rate, if the spinal tap is positive, they can start treating her right away. I'm also encouraged that there seems to be complete recovery even in the most severe cases.
She's getting good care there, which I'm thankful for. Daddy is tired, of course.
The "I don't like it" quote in the title is what I said to my cielo after seeing the fact sheet on Guillain-Barré and burrowing into her shoulder. I don't like that mom might have this, I don't like that I'm far away, I don't like that she's mortal, after all. I don't like it.
If you're the praying type, please say a good word for my mom and dad.
Peace.
Sunday, November 16, 2008
Towanda Does A Wedding
So, our new little church community celebrated its first wedding tonight, of a very sweet couple from Mexico. I was humbled and honored to be asked to do the ceremony. It was a simple ceremony -- they had already done the civil part, so we got to focus on the love, which, if you ask me, is how it should be.
They were so shy, from all the fuss, I think. But they loved it, loved the promises I had written for them after listening to them and watching them, both together and how they are in the community.
I feel very moved that my first wedding was for a couple from Mexico who are immigrants. Seems very right to me, considering my own journey to where I am today began in large part on the Mexican border so many years ago.
I'm very content tonight, and I wish E. and F. all the best in their partnership.
They were so shy, from all the fuss, I think. But they loved it, loved the promises I had written for them after listening to them and watching them, both together and how they are in the community.
I feel very moved that my first wedding was for a couple from Mexico who are immigrants. Seems very right to me, considering my own journey to where I am today began in large part on the Mexican border so many years ago.
I'm very content tonight, and I wish E. and F. all the best in their partnership.
Wednesday, October 29, 2008
Almost Champions
What a fun night last night. In the semifinal game we were hot -- we won, 27-5! Only in softball do you see scores like that...yikes! And that was with the "only two home runs per game" rule. I went 3-4 in that game, and scored 2 runs. The game ended on with an outstanding catch in right-center that sent us all running for the outfield in celebration.
The championship game was a lot closer. It came down to the very very last inning. We were visitors, so the other team got the last at-bat. A hit, and three straight walks (the other team didn't even try to swing the bat) on some questionable ball-strike calls, and the other team won, 15-14. I went 1 for 3, with walk.
We felt good, though. We were down 5-0 in that game, then came from behind to take a 14-8 lead. Our defense was really good (in both games, actually) and we were holding them. But the ump's strike zone kept shrinking. I was catching both games, and I watched this happen. It was frustrating to see good pitches be called balls. Plus he was not consistent; our pitcher would drop one in on the corner of the zone, and one time it would be a strike, and another ball.
Well, anyway. Considering that the team only managed to win 1 during the fall season (and apparently got beat a lot over the summer before I joined them), that we got as far as we did and played as well as we did and nearly beat the best team -- we were really happy. And it was a lot of fun. I really enjoyed playing catcher, which I haven't done since 7th grade. And to play two back-to-back games felt like playing one nice, long game, which is how it should be. Co-ed softball is corrupted somewhat by having to play "on the clock" (which is an abomination unto the lord) and starting hitters off with a 1-1 count (which messes with the poetry of the game).
And on a final note, I now have not 1, but 2 lovely softball bruises. I got hit by thrown balls TWICE while running to first. In the first game I got hit in the back, near my right shoulder blade, on a throw from short. Then in the second game, I got hit in the, um, well, on my ass, on a throw from third. That one hurt like heck. I was surprised that one hurt more, considering there's a little more, er, padding there than on my back. They're both sore this morning, the one on my left cheek more so. The bruise there is lovely, a perfectly round imprint of the ball.
No, I will not be posting any pictures!
Awaiting spring training...
The championship game was a lot closer. It came down to the very very last inning. We were visitors, so the other team got the last at-bat. A hit, and three straight walks (the other team didn't even try to swing the bat) on some questionable ball-strike calls, and the other team won, 15-14. I went 1 for 3, with walk.
We felt good, though. We were down 5-0 in that game, then came from behind to take a 14-8 lead. Our defense was really good (in both games, actually) and we were holding them. But the ump's strike zone kept shrinking. I was catching both games, and I watched this happen. It was frustrating to see good pitches be called balls. Plus he was not consistent; our pitcher would drop one in on the corner of the zone, and one time it would be a strike, and another ball.
Well, anyway. Considering that the team only managed to win 1 during the fall season (and apparently got beat a lot over the summer before I joined them), that we got as far as we did and played as well as we did and nearly beat the best team -- we were really happy. And it was a lot of fun. I really enjoyed playing catcher, which I haven't done since 7th grade. And to play two back-to-back games felt like playing one nice, long game, which is how it should be. Co-ed softball is corrupted somewhat by having to play "on the clock" (which is an abomination unto the lord) and starting hitters off with a 1-1 count (which messes with the poetry of the game).
And on a final note, I now have not 1, but 2 lovely softball bruises. I got hit by thrown balls TWICE while running to first. In the first game I got hit in the back, near my right shoulder blade, on a throw from short. Then in the second game, I got hit in the, um, well, on my ass, on a throw from third. That one hurt like heck. I was surprised that one hurt more, considering there's a little more, er, padding there than on my back. They're both sore this morning, the one on my left cheek more so. The bruise there is lovely, a perfectly round imprint of the ball.
No, I will not be posting any pictures!
Awaiting spring training...
Tuesday, October 28, 2008
Staring Out The Window
Life is...interesting...right now. Working part-time, and doing the new church, juggling schedules and trying to have a life. It's all good. Trying to figure out how to make time to write, cuz there's things I want to say, reflect about, stuff like that. Good stuff I'm doing, although I find myself rather pensive, struggling with cynicism. Maybe my hope muscles are just tired after the last year.
Playing ball tonight -- we were supposed to play last week, semifinal "playoff" and if we won that the final, but we had weather as bad/worse as what Philly had last night, plus a bit of snow and lots of lightning.
So, we're playing tonight instead. It'll be brisk, but at least it won't be wet. It's a gorgeous day.
Hope y'all are well.
Here are a few pics from the Transform columbus day Protest this year:
Gathered on the Capitol Steps.
13 Indigenous Women going through the police barrier (the police let them...go figure) to present a Treaty of Transformation to the paraders (that's one there on the left with the striped shirt).
The 13 Women reading the Treaty. The paraders threw it on the ground.
Back at the capitol...with all these cops. Cuz we're so scary, I guess.
Playing ball tonight -- we were supposed to play last week, semifinal "playoff" and if we won that the final, but we had weather as bad/worse as what Philly had last night, plus a bit of snow and lots of lightning.
So, we're playing tonight instead. It'll be brisk, but at least it won't be wet. It's a gorgeous day.
Hope y'all are well.
Here are a few pics from the Transform columbus day Protest this year:
Gathered on the Capitol Steps.
13 Indigenous Women going through the police barrier (the police let them...go figure) to present a Treaty of Transformation to the paraders (that's one there on the left with the striped shirt).
The 13 Women reading the Treaty. The paraders threw it on the ground.
Back at the capitol...with all these cops. Cuz we're so scary, I guess.
Friday, October 10, 2008
Anniversary Week
I wrote a few days ago that a few of my friends, arrested with me, would be marking the anniversary of our arrest by going to the intersection for a remembrance, then to the courthouse for some ritualized profanity (see Psalm 10 and 109, which go nicely with some other choice words).
Turned out that just my cielo, JT, and I were able to make it. We met at the intersection -- I have stopped by there several times since we go downtown with some frequency and actually park most often at the lot that's right there, so it was not the first time. JT and my cielo were both disoriented, a little. JT had no memory of the convention center looming near us. My feeling was that the street seemed so small now. We remembered our friends who couldn't be with us.
Then JT and I walked down to the courthouse (my cielo had to work on a paper), and sat on the steps, and just talked. Talked about all the trials and hearings. Talked about both of us being called for jury duty in the winter (yes both!), and the weird experience of sitting in the jury room, where we had been processed for our arrests just a couple months before. My strange response to seeing people in wedding attire having their picture taken on the steps one afternoon when I came down for a trial -- you mean something good happens in this building? Her sudden outburst of songs from Godspell. Our shared cynicism, with which we struggle, after the way the city treated us.
I read Psalm 10, and 109, and then JT mentioned 137 so I read that one, too. Then I decided I wanted to go see the columbus statue in the park in front of us. I wanted to see if the graffiti a certain person in her clergy collar had written on the base of the statue while we were waiting for my verdict (unbeknownst to me) was still there.
It still is.
columbus kills, it says.
Freshened up a bit now, shall we say. And translated into Spanish.
That's all you need to know.
We shared brie and crackers and an apple and chocolate, and laughed together. I'm so thankful for JT, what a good friend I have found. Generous and funny and encouraging.
After our snack we headed over the CIW vigil, which was lovely. We had CIW activists come to my church the night before, and they invited me to lead one of the songs we did in worship for the vigil, which I was happy to do. We prayed together underneath Chipotle's offices. When they mentioned that they would be sleeping on the street that night in front of the building, when the temperature was supposed to drop into the 30s, I did a quick check with my other church members who were there and we decided to use some of our money to bring hot chocolate later.
But how does one do that?
JT had the brilliant idea of stopping at a Starbucks and asking for those gallon-size cardboard jug-things they have, just the jug. So we did, and managed to get two. I stopped by the store and bought trail mix, fruit, hot chocolate and hot cider mixes, and lara bars. Then I went home and boiled water and filled up the jugs with hot water. Then my cielo and I went back over to the vigil site, and delivered the goods, at about 11:30.
On the way, we remembered where we were the year before -- me in jail, her waiting outside in the cold. Suddenly I began to choke up..."Did anyone bring you something warm to drink in the middle of the night?" I asked her. "Yes, they did, they did," she said. And we talked about how important it felt, on the anniversary of that day, of that long night, to be attending to others in this way.
It was a good day.
The rest of the week has been interesting. Mostly good, settling in to my new job (I have a new job...I think I've forgotten to mention that...) and doing church stuff and getting ready for this weekend. There have been a few things that let me know it's an anniversary time, though.
Turned out that just my cielo, JT, and I were able to make it. We met at the intersection -- I have stopped by there several times since we go downtown with some frequency and actually park most often at the lot that's right there, so it was not the first time. JT and my cielo were both disoriented, a little. JT had no memory of the convention center looming near us. My feeling was that the street seemed so small now. We remembered our friends who couldn't be with us.
Then JT and I walked down to the courthouse (my cielo had to work on a paper), and sat on the steps, and just talked. Talked about all the trials and hearings. Talked about both of us being called for jury duty in the winter (yes both!), and the weird experience of sitting in the jury room, where we had been processed for our arrests just a couple months before. My strange response to seeing people in wedding attire having their picture taken on the steps one afternoon when I came down for a trial -- you mean something good happens in this building? Her sudden outburst of songs from Godspell. Our shared cynicism, with which we struggle, after the way the city treated us.
I read Psalm 10, and 109, and then JT mentioned 137 so I read that one, too. Then I decided I wanted to go see the columbus statue in the park in front of us. I wanted to see if the graffiti a certain person in her clergy collar had written on the base of the statue while we were waiting for my verdict (unbeknownst to me) was still there.
It still is.
columbus kills, it says.
Freshened up a bit now, shall we say. And translated into Spanish.
That's all you need to know.
We shared brie and crackers and an apple and chocolate, and laughed together. I'm so thankful for JT, what a good friend I have found. Generous and funny and encouraging.
After our snack we headed over the CIW vigil, which was lovely. We had CIW activists come to my church the night before, and they invited me to lead one of the songs we did in worship for the vigil, which I was happy to do. We prayed together underneath Chipotle's offices. When they mentioned that they would be sleeping on the street that night in front of the building, when the temperature was supposed to drop into the 30s, I did a quick check with my other church members who were there and we decided to use some of our money to bring hot chocolate later.
But how does one do that?
JT had the brilliant idea of stopping at a Starbucks and asking for those gallon-size cardboard jug-things they have, just the jug. So we did, and managed to get two. I stopped by the store and bought trail mix, fruit, hot chocolate and hot cider mixes, and lara bars. Then I went home and boiled water and filled up the jugs with hot water. Then my cielo and I went back over to the vigil site, and delivered the goods, at about 11:30.
On the way, we remembered where we were the year before -- me in jail, her waiting outside in the cold. Suddenly I began to choke up..."Did anyone bring you something warm to drink in the middle of the night?" I asked her. "Yes, they did, they did," she said. And we talked about how important it felt, on the anniversary of that day, of that long night, to be attending to others in this way.
It was a good day.
The rest of the week has been interesting. Mostly good, settling in to my new job (I have a new job...I think I've forgotten to mention that...) and doing church stuff and getting ready for this weekend. There have been a few things that let me know it's an anniversary time, though.
- My right hand and arm/shoulder are hurting more. The pain in my right thumb has never completely gone away, although, as Crimson Rambler noted, my softball playing does not seem to be affected, thank goodness. I still make perfect cutoff throws. Mostly I don't notice the pain. But this week the pain has increased, for no apparent reason, so I'm sure it probably anniversary-related.
- My cielo has a busy day tomorrow -- in addition to the protest-related stuff -- and as we were trying to figure out the day's logistics a couple of nights ago, I said it was important to me that we march together...and then began to tear up. Part of my emotion: fear that "something" will happen to us, and she wouldn't be there. Rationally, nothing is going to happen, there is no plan for any kind of confrontation like last year...but still...that fear is there.
- Today we were back downtown, to do a couple of errands after work. We had parked at that same intersection. When we headed back, she went on across the intersection with a group of people, but against the walk sign. Since yours truly still has probation to contend with, I waited for the walk signal. While waiting, I saw a cop car in the intersection, across the street from me on the street I was about to cross (does that make sense?). No big deal. I got the walk signal and headed across the street, and about half-way across, suddenly I heard the siren behind me. I jumped, walked more quickly, checked behind me. What had I done? The cop was pulling over a bicyclist, and had to have come across the intersection against the red light to have been behind me like that. I was spooked, I tell you. I went to the car, got in, shaking, and began to cry. We just stayed put for a few minutes, my cielo comforted me, and we drove away once I'd calmed down. I've been a little shaky ever since. I'm supposed to speak at the rally tomorrow, and every time I tried to write down my remarks, I'd start to cry. I'm better now, thanks to my cielo and a call from JT.
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