Tag Archives: children

Giving the Right Gifts

01 Monday May 2017

Posted by in blessing, celebrations, doing good, gifts, letting go, open heart

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for John, Dalton, Sean, Erica Lee, Ezra, Erica Brooke,  (and the March and Fall Celebrants too!)

This Eastertide season (slightly extended) this year is the most intense season of celebrations in our family: 3 anniversaries, three birthdays, a graduation, Mother’s Day and Father’s Day, all in a matter of a few weeks. This year there are several banner occasions: 75th birthday and 20th anniversary and high school graduation, not to be taken lightly. And I, as the Cheerleader of Celebrations, get twisted up in giving just the right gift to each one for each occasion, the Perfect Thing!

Of course, out of my wrestling comes the realization that there is no “Perfect Thing” that can be given to each and every beloved one each and every time. Sacred text tells me that the only perfect gifts are given by God. Nevertheless, I keep trolling magazines and websites for ideas that suit the recipient, the stage of life, the need and my checkbook. There is not shortage of wonderful ideas and possibilities out there. It is not for lack of possibilities that I get stuck.

It is my ego-need where I get bogged down; I want my gifts to make the person I love respond with glee, gratitude and to be overwhelmed with this memorable and grace-filled present. No wonder I get jammed up! So it is with relief that I encounter and begin to appropriate the Jewish concept of mitzvah, giving a gift, according to some sources, for the good of someone else without expectation of reciprocity, notice or thanks. WELL! That re-frame the entire endeavor!

I have recalled many of the gifts given in Hebrew and Christian scripture: Joseph’s coat of many colors, the Queen of Sheba’s contributions to Solomon’s coffers, the expensive perfume with which Mary Magdalene anointed the feet of Jesus, the apostle Peter confronting the man who was lame from birth with these words: “Silver and gold have I none, but what I have I give you,” and he lifts the man up to full standing mobility. All of them are gifts that have complications in relationships, so I am not the first giver to be bemused in my giving.

What I am am being invited to do in this season of celebration and remembering is to open myself to each honoree–to see him as he really is, to listen to her conversation that gives me clues as to what she longs for, to be willing to share part of my own spirit of love and hope for him, to do what I can, and to let the results and reactions be whatever they are, no harm, no foul, no expectations—just open heart and open hand from me.

I read in 2 Corinthians that “God loves a cheerful giver,” and the corollary to that is the Holy One is able to provide me, the giver with “every blessing in abundance, so that I may always have enough of everything…” So I can go about the business of gift giving without anxiety, knowing that I will have what I need to celebrate my loved one–and others–with joy, with freedom, with trust and delight, despite the price tag, the competition with the other grandparents, the fear of rejection. It’s how I give, not what I give that makes the difference. And my heart is full of love for each and very one, with gratitude for what he and she have brought to me and our family, and with hope that what I offer will be a token of that love and gratitude for each one.

And I can give each gift with a blessing. My late friend Rabbi Sheryl Lewart in her book Blessings for Life’s Journey, gives me some words:

May you feel embraced, enfolded anew by the miracle of your being. May you find the deep purpose of your soul loved and cherished into becoming who you are meant to be… May you be a source of holiness for others, May you treasure and develop your uniqueness and be a blessing to all you meet. Amen.

 

 

 

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50 Years: All That…and So Many Surprises!

06 Thursday Apr 2017

Posted by in blessing, children, grace, listening, marriage

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This week I celebrate 50 years of marriage to my husband. I never imagined a fiftieth wedding anniversary. In fact marriage as it has evolved has been as much of a surprise as it was a hope.

I could not have imagined 50 years ago that each of us would have had the variety of callings that we each have had, separately and together. Nowhere on the horizon did I see rock climbing and kayaking, art history and critique, global standards and values education as passions and career trajectories for my husband. I could not have imagined what bearing and raising children would be like for me, nor my own calls to Ministry of Word and Sacrament, seminary teaching and spiritual direction. The possibility of all those threads of our individual lives being woven into a whole could have seemed fanciful and daunting to me were I have to known how we would unfold.

I imagined that we would grow in the same directions emotionally, spiritually and in interests. While that has been true in some ways, more often we have developed differing points of view, different vocabulary, different habits of the heart, and the work has been how to let those differences continue the dialogue between us in respect and love. In some of those 50 years the differences have felt like challenges, in others like complementary perspectives. I have been surprised at how rich it has been to live and act in a household where speaking our truth in love has brought energy and Light to each other and to those around us.

Children have both enriched and schooled us. Our families of origin with their ways of seeing and acting were not completely adequate for our call to parenting, especially in a milieu of a rapidly changing and technological society in a global world. We could not fall back on old adages and precepts any more than we could use all of our mother’s recipes that used ingredients no longer made. So we were adult parents seeking the ways of child nurture for ourselves and offspring, seemingly without a net. We presumed on the mercy of God over and over–when we disagreed, when we failed, when we did not have a clue, when we were disappointed, and when we were surprised by joy, which is where we find ourselves now as parents and grandparents, getting ready to celebrate this summer as an entire family.

It seems as if the overriding theme in these years has been Grace: God’s grace to us as creatures, God’s grace in directing us to each other (which at one time seemed unlikely!), and our own learning to be Grace-full and Gracious, in times of extremity, sickness and health, times of scarcity and times of plenty, times of grayness and times of sunshine. We have been give enormous graces of education, of meaningful work, of health care, of loving friends and communities, of opportunity to travel, of deep conversation, of being Light-bearers where we find ourselves.

And now we are living in the Grace of Growing old together. We look at our wedding picture on the wall and wonder who those young people are. We resemble them, but we are so much more: wiser, we hope; more compassionate, we think; more elastic, we notice, both in waistline and acceptance of others. We want to be more transparent, more loving, more delighted and delightful! And it is Grace that is helping us find our way.

One our wall since the first decade of our marriage is this quotation from philosopher, Stanley Cavell:

Only those can genuinely marry who are already married. It is as though you know you are married when you cannot divorce, that is when you find your lives simply will not disentangle. If your love is lucky, this knowledge will be greeted with laughter.

Our mouths are filled with laughter as we celebrate! Grace has brought us safely through these 50 years! We are grateful!

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Points of Light: Women of Spirit

08 Wednesday Mar 2017

Posted by in beauty, children, Light, sanctuary, women

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Even though the liturgical paraments are purple in Lent, I experience the season as the Great Grayness, to borrow from a book my children used to read. It is exacerbated for me and the people with whom I have conversations this year because of the dis-ease in the world, more acutely in our nation and the Church. Almost every exchange I have, real or virtual, alludes to the Great Grayness. So as I wend my way on the Lenten journey, looking for and seeking to be sanctuary, I find I need to look for signs of hope, reminders that there are other seasons, and even joy along the way.

Today, International Women’s Day, is one of those reminders. All over the world women are speaking and acting their truth in a quest for justice and mercy for all women everywhere. With ease I recall how much of the hope and the energy I have been given on my journey of Spirit has been ignited and exemplified by the women in my life.

  • women of faith in my family, beginning with my mother and grandmother, neither one of whom would have called themselves feminists, but each one seeking to be all she could be as someone who was faithful to the One who called her and to the ones to whom she was called.
  • women of wisdom all my journey through, those who could see a wider world than I knew, those who not only saw me for what I might be, but opened out the multi-faceted world in which there was truth to be told, beauty to be seen, and power to be accessed on behalf of those without those things.
  • women of letters who articulated sensibilities and perspectives on my behalf, many of which were inside me, for which i had no vocabulary or vision.
  • women who became soul friends, sometimes despite unmatched backgrounds and experiences, but with whom I could plumb the heart of the matter quickly and often.
  • women who dared to step us and get out in front for the call of justice and kindness, with humility, women who were not afraid to say what needs to be said, to be nothing but themselves, and risk upsetting more than one apple cart on the way.
  • women whom I met only in passing maybe, for one brief shining moment, but with whom the joy and light shared were etched indelibly on my heart.
  • women who invited and needed my presence or my words or my experience, from whom I learned about worlds and dreams outside of the scope of my one, those from whom I received as much or more than I was able to give.

Thus Women’s Day is the birthday of my only granddaughter; she dances her way through “Mary Poppins” in the picture above (second row back on the right!), and as we have celebrated these past days, I see that she is another light-filled teacher of my days. Decades apart, dramatically different upbringing, she was born nine years ago into a world decidedly different than the one into which I entered. She is already social media capable, aware of many kinds of diversity in her neighborhood, school and city. She lives is a family that is diverse, one that blends identity and practice from different traditions into their unique way of being family. She has a sense of freedom and self that is unfettered by the Great Grayness. And I learn from her, even as I delight in her.

These women have been Light Bearers for me, no matter the circling gloom! I take hope, I am sheltered by them, and I am grateful!

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Advent IV: Signs of Hope-Little Ones

20 Tuesday Dec 2016

Posted by in advent, beauty, body, children, compassion, Hope

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My days of hands-on childcare have come and gone, yet this Advent season, I am surrounded by babies and little ones, in the main virtually, but also in person. Next door baby Benjamin was born, a child with a black father and a white mother, adored and adorable. My peers are almost all grandparents, each year adding more to their tribes–Juliet, Asher, Joshua, Henry, Rosie and Alexander, among others. My hearts leaps up with Hope when I see or hear these little ones. I see Hope that something new and unrepeatable has been created, full of promise, untarnished as yet by the cares and pressures to which we as humans are heir.

Little ones give Hope with their eyes. Their watching everything that is shiny and new, without cynicism or boredom, lights up my own eyes.  If I can continue to look at each day, each person, each flower, bird and tree with the Hope that somethings precious is to be found there, I can replenish the Hope that so often threatens to die with the doom-saying media and the prognosticators of cloudiness.

Little ones give Hope with their vulnerability. They are willing to take love and nurture wherever it comes. There will be a time when they need to learn how to defend themselves, and to put their startle reflexes to good use. However, in the beginning they can trust that when food is offered, it is good food; that when warmth is offered, it can be nestled into, and that when smiles are shining, they mean good intentions and love. I would love to nurture a spirit of appropriate openness, one that radiates Hope.

Little ones are always learning, ever Hopeful that there is something new to be discovered–through their mouths, their hands, their skin–their own bodies. When they are moving as they should, they pave their way into becoming all they are meant to be. I want to keep Hopeful by continuing to learn about the world and those in it. I have had to learn much about my body this past six months, through surgery and accident, but on the other side of those challenges, I have deeper knowledge of how I am fearfully and wonderfully made, how the health of the earth contributes to my own health and how I need to participate in its on-going healing. I have also learned, incarnated in my own body, an intimation of what the senses and feelings are of so many who live with constant pain, suffering and challenge, and it has made me more compassionate and prayerful. And it has made me Hopeful that I can be an agent of healing or solace to the pain of others.

It is not accidental that in this Advent season our Hope begins with a little one, a Child, born wide-eyed, vulnerable and growing in favor with humanity and divinity. I see that it is not sentimentality that calls us to celebrate the birth of the Child, but that it is a statement of Hope. What and Who is born comes to give sight to our blindness, openness to our hyper-vigilance, and learned hearts for our own usefulness and capacity to heal in the broken world.

This week as we move into Christmas, I will be seeing and hearing little ones–my own grandchildren, those in the neighborhood, real and virtual, and those around the world. My own little Sadie who looks at me so intently in the photo above is now eight and a half years old, with personality, vision, intelligence and, most of all, love. And her growth gives me Hope–for her own contribution to the world, for her own future.  She and her brother and cousins, my grands, are Hope for me. As are Benjamin, Juliet, Asher, Joshua, Henry, Rosie and Alexander. What God began with the birth of a Child continues to bring Hope, Healing and Things that make for Peace.

May the signs of hope brighten these last days of Advent in you!

 

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“The Mother God Made Me To Be:” Book Reflection

19 Friday Feb 2016

Posted by in book reflection, children, Uncategorized

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This week as I am blessing my own children day and night, I have been asked to reflect on a new book being published by FaithWords, Hachette Press, called The Mother God Made Me To Be, by Karen Valentin, a writer of for Daily Guideposts and a single mother of two young boys. She and I are at opposite ends of the mothering spectrum; she writes about the beginnings and endings of  a marriage, and her call to be the single working mother of young children, responsible for supporting them. I am a retired grandmother in a long marriage, whose days of balancing mothering and vocation are completed. Yet, there are many overlaps in the ways we love and care for our children.

In her book made up of vignettes of her story, Valentin captures both the extreme delight of mothering children, each one a unique miracle, and the overwhelming and unremitting sense of responsibility for their welfare-physical, emotional and spiritual. She is candid about her fatigue and disappointment that is exacerbated by having to raise her boys alone, and having to face the reality of living a life that is not the one of which she dreamed. What she finds through her spiritual journey, supported by family, friends and church, is the Presence of the God who continues to work in and through her, even in her times of most conflicted decisions; she encounters the Spirit in worship, in ministry, in sustenance, in surprise and  quiet moments.

Almost every mother I know struggles at some time or in some situation with their “mothering,” whether their children are tiny, as they were in the middle sections of the Valentin’s book, or older in school, or teenagers, or adults with children of their own. The cultures we in habit in 21st C. North America do not support us well. In this present day mothers of young children are caught in culture wars in which almost every act of nurture is a cause for polarization–breastfeeding, working inside or out of the home, schooling–public, private or home, vaccinations, feeding, sleeping. There seem to be a limitless number of judges and critics who have an opinion on what a mother should do. Karen Valentin in not immune from those pressures, living in New York City, raising two boys on her own. Yet she continues to seek and to find both solace for the sadness and energy for the tasks in front of her, as she listens to the Spirit leading her, even letting her dare to become self-employed and entrepreneurial in her calling to be the kind of mother God wants her to be.

For every mother who is feels challenged by that calling, this book will be an encouragement to keep faith, to seek support and to recognize that we are not alone. The community of faithful, seeking mothers is wide and deep, and Karen Valentin has given voice to many of us in telling her story.

Personal photo from Museum Plaza, Santa Fe, New Mexico.

Lent 1: Blessing the Children

13 Saturday Feb 2016

Posted by in blessing, children, Lent, prayer, Uncategorized

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In Lent this year, I am practicing some themes fromGreeneValentine15 Celtic spirituality, suggested by Joyce Rupp, one per week. Her first theme is to notice and celebrate the Presence of the Holy in the ordinary–the small details of our lives–our routines, our surroundings and the people who are front and center. She makes the suggestion that every morning and evening we bless our children.

I have prayed for each of my children and grandchildren since before they were born. But in picking up this Lenten practice which is more regular and more intense, I notice first that my prayers for them now are often either “defensive,” asking for protection or correction, or are just generic, “bless the beasts and the children” kinds of prayers. To bless them in a focused way twice a day is calling me to focus on each of them in his or her particularity, and to see them more deeply and lovingly.

John O’Donahue in his book, To Bless the Space between Us, describes blessing this way:

A blessing is not a sentiment or a question; it is a gracious invocation where the human heart pleads with the divine heart.

So I embark this practice with an open heart. What do I already know about each of them, two of them since their conception?  What do I still need to observe and to learn? In what can I take delight and rejoice? What concerns can I lift to the Holy One for healing, for satisfying, for directing, for deepening? And how can I be a blessing to each of them, without hovering, prying, judging or interfering?

It was a joy-filled exercise to inscribe in my journal the name of each one, and to limn out the qualities and aspects of that personality, as I pray for blessing for her or for him for that morning and evening. In the collection of the eight of them (in-laws included!), there is such diversity in temperament, style and  affections: introverts and extroverts, actors and contemplatives, students and athletes, cheerleaders and followers.  In addition, they all keep growing up, changing, even the adults among them, so that my list keeps inviting additions and subtractions day by day. I bless school assignments, sports events, play dates, rehearsals, and after-school lessons. I bless marriages, job searches, office politics, bank accounts. And I bless the working and loving, the hopes and the dreams, as well as bumps in the road that seem to block those dreams.  And I pray for each unique spirit of that growing one, made in the image of the Holy, that it be preserved and nourished, and, yes, protected, as it follows the path of the Spirit that is meant for it.

Joyce Rupp suggests this prayer of blessing:

May God and the angels guide, guard, and protect you this night.

And so I go to sleep praying this blessing for each one by name…Sean, Erica Lee, Dalton, Malakai, Erica Brooke, Ezra, Theo, Sadie. I am filled with hope as I bless each one, even  as I enter into the arms of the angels who watch and bless me as I sleep, believing that the One who is blessing me will also bless them. A loving way to begin Lent!

 

 

 

 

Advent II: Love, the Bird

06 Sunday Dec 2015

Posted by in action, children, compassion, paying attention, waiting

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Birds, though you long have ceased to build, guard the nest that must be filled. Even the hour when wings are frozen God for fledgling time has chosen. People, look east and sing today: Love, the Bird, is on the way.  (Eleanor Farjeon)

As I look eastward out my window in the morning, I have a host of birds that entertain and intrigue me–mockingbirds, wrens, crows, the busy hummingbird quite in love with the fig tree next door, who drops in often, and if the wind is right, seagulls come screeching through. One morning we were even visited by an adolescent hawk, resting mid-flight on her way to somewhere. But even in our temperate climate, there seem to be fewer birds aloft than in spring and summer months.

According to the carol, the Advent task is guarding the nest that must be filled. This week my heart longs to know how to guard and protect the nests for the little ones in our world who are at risk. We are closely connected to our neighbors in the east in the towns of San Bernardino and Redlands. Beyond the colleagues who were slaughtered last week, I am in grief for the children whose nests have been permanently upended because of  that day–the 6 month old child of the shooters, the little ones who were left without a parent after the shooting, the learners who endured hours of lock down while the sorting out process continues, the neighborhood gaggles of young people who now have been close up and personal to the effects of terror. How am I called to be a protector of nests and the ones who inhabit them?

I am reminded again and again how in both testaments of the Bible, there is a call to protect, to care for, to be advocates for the widows and children. A friend here is part of an interfaith coalition of people who are are becoming advocates for undocumented immigrant children shipped in from the border, awaiting in warehouses for the judicial process to grind its wheels. And I support with energy the many gatherings of faithful ones who labor at feeding the hungry children, housing the homeless ones and providing for the well being of so many vulnerable ones. In the movie “Mary Poppins” the most poignant plaint is from the Bird Woman on the steps of St. Paul’s Cathedral, singing “Feed the birds, tuppence a bag.” How am I to feed the birds this Advent?

 The promise is that Love, the Bird is on the way this Advent. In a very provocative book, Consider the Birds, pastor Debbie Blue writes about the appearances and meanings of birds in the Bible. Some are metaphors, some are illustrations, some are even names for the Holy One. When I am praying for Love, the Bird, to come quickly, I have in mind one not named in Scripture, but one from the Celtic tradition, who is the symbol for the Iona Community, the Wild Goose. I am told by members of that community that she was chosen as a symbol of the Holy Spirit; they were drawn to her because the wild goose is known for going where it will, like the Holy Spirit, and sometime it makes what seems to us to be a great mess. Certainly I don’t know how and when the Spirit is coming among us, but I believe she will, and I feel sure that in guarding the nests of the little ones, some neat and tidy ways of societal organization might be left in a mess.

Even so the Spirit and the Church cry out: Come, Lord Jesus!

The whole creation pleads: Come, Lord Jesus!

And meanwhile, I am paying attention to the places where I can guard the nests that need filling and care and feed the little birds that are here in this world.