Never under estimate the power of a good story. This statement was proved true this past week as five men clung to only four life jackets after their sailboat capsized in the Gulf of Mexico. Floating in the water for over 26 hours the four Texas A&M students and one of the boat’s safety officers also held to a cardinal rule of water safety…stick together. I think it is probably also a cardinal rule for most of life. As they floated there through daylight and darkness, with fish nibbling their skin and clothing, the students were held in the moment by the power of their sailing mate’s stories, their ability to not panic and something no doubt their mothers taught them…..to share. They tied themselves together and shared the jackets amongst them.

Steve Conway, the eldest and a retired Coast Guard commander was the storyteller. When morale began to wane or fear started to set in, he would crank out another story binding this group of treading survivors together through word and imagination, allowing them to come back to the moment, stoking their will to live. It worked and they were rescued  by a helicopter crew who noticed the small flash light that was attached to Conway’s life jacket. Their other safety officer, the one who had pushed the students to safety along with their flotation devices, did not survive.

I wonder how many times a good story has saved a life? How many times in a situation of grave danger has a parent held a child and soothed their fears with a fairy tale? I think of the wonderful ways in which the father in the film Life Is Beautiful kept his young son from knowing the horrors of the concentration camps by spinning amazing yarns. Or how many times has a soldier hiding in a foxhole, recounted a story of safer, more ordinary times, keeping himself and those around him from the fear of war? I remember the only time one of children had to have stitches and standing near him, holding his hand, taking him on a journey of imagination with stories of places he loved the most

Stories…and sticking together…….cardinal rules for living. I am deep in reading the scriptures of Exodus which are filled with dramatic stories of seas parting, staffs that turn into snakes, horses and riders thrown into the sea. Through all of these stories, Moses, that reluctant prophet, leads the people of Israel, helping them to stick together and make it to the land, and the life, they have been promised. Through it all they become a people, God’s people, and we continue to tell their story as we seek to make it our own.

In our families, in our communities, may we have the wisdom to tie ourselves together, to ignore the fish that might be nibbling at our skin, and the courage to stick together while we live out our ever-evolving story.

"In the next century
or the one beyond that
they say,
are valleys, pastures.
We can meet there in peace
if we make it.
To climb these coming crests
one word to you, to
you and your children:
stay together
learn the flowers
go light."
   ~Gary Snyder

This morning I spent a long period of time simply looking at the light falling in my backyard. Of course, with all the rain we’ve had, the flowers look particularly colorful and lovely and the grass rivals the Emerald Isle. But it was the play of light on it all that captured my attention.

Any photographer will tell you ‘it’s all about the light’. Any well captured image will pull the eye toward the subject that is held in the light. Any performer will also tell you about ‘finding their light’ on the stage, that hot spot which you lift your face toward until the heat hits….just there….bringing all eyes onto the face of the one who will deliver the monologue or sing the music. Many performers also know that asking for a ‘pink light’ will make them appear younger, more vibrant while a stark, white light will bring out the coldness and age in a face.

Light is a powerful source of energy and a powerful metaphor. We wish to be en-light-ened. We know people who light up a room. Driving at certain times of day we are blinded by the light and it becomes a hazard. We revel in these nearly summer days when the light is so much with us. As we move toward the Summer Solstice next week, we don’t like to think that on June 21st the light will once again begin to lessen each day until deep December.

Light is so very important….but so is the shadow. In those same images snapped by a photographer, the shadow brings the depth to the photo, gives texture to a face and power to what is in the light.I wonder why we don’t honor and think of the shadow of ourselves, the shadows of our lives, with more fondness? Embracing the shadow of our experience helps us to walk more beautifully and fully into the light.

The 13th century Sufi poet and teacher Rumi writes: "You must have shadow and light source both. Listen, and lay your head under the tree of awe. When from that tree feathers and wings sprout on you, be quieter than a dove. Don’t even open your mouth for even a coo."

Outside my office window the newly formed oak leaves are dancing in the light of this glorious June day. The sunlight is creating shadow puppets on the huge trunk that has grown in this spot for decades. Back and forth, back and forth goes the dance. Light and shadow joining forces…..creating awe. I’ll keep my mouth closed for now. I’ll only coo with my eye and, perhaps, my heart.

"It is finished in beauty.
It is finished in beauty.
In the home of evening light.
From the story made of evening light.
On the trail of evening light."
                   ~Navajo Prayer

Our family has lived in our house for nearly twenty years coming here when our oldest son was just two years old. We have what some tell me is a rare neighborhood where people really know one another by name, know the workings of one another’s lives, the ups and downs, the joys and sorrows. For some time it has been a neighborhood of many generations and our block parties could contain an infant and an over-ninety. It is a rare and wonderful gift.

One such over-ninety passed on last year. She was vibrant until the last couple of years, being one of the first to uncover her garden. She walked, once a week, to the bus stop several blocks away to meet friends downtown for lunch. Her house now stands empty and on the market and today there is an estate sale. For some reason I am filled with emotion over it all. You see, she was quite the expert on Plains Indians and had artifacts and books that were cataloged and displayed in her home. The lucky children in the area were invited in and treated to stories of these first people and the importance of their life here in the Midwest. My hope is that those precious things fall into the right hands, the hands of someone who will understand, not only their importance, but the love and pride with which they were kept safe until now.

But my emotion comes from more than the concern over these valuable things. It comes from the little, ordinary things of the everyday….the pots and pans, the dishes,the aprons, the garden tools. Will the person who buys them recognize the love with which they were used? Will they, in some way, honor the one who owned them? It is an irrational emotion, I know, one that could lead a person to a terrible habit of collecting. And yet, I of course came home with a 9×13 pan and several lovely cups and an apron. And then also the wine glasses, etched in a dainty pattern. When I use them I will remember Karin and what she brought to our neighborhood……her strength, her intelligence, her meticulous love of all things green.

And then there is the baptismal gown that I found in an upstairs bedroom. I never knew she had children Who wore it? Why wasn’t it passed on to someone in the family? How can it be lying here for strangers to buy?

I don’t know what I will do with this tiny, yellowed cotton dress edged in lace with buttons so small they seem useless. But some place, someone is walking the earth who was welcomed into the family of God while wearing this dainty gown. I will hold onto it. I will keep it safe. Maybe someone will need it for another baptism, another welcoming, another beautiful walk through the world.

Have a restful weekend………….…

"Rise up, child of earth. Let life rise up in you, full-term, new-born. Time enough in wondrous darkness, Echoed sounds of voices, sittings, splashings of new life. Relinquish to memory this one mystery we yearn to know and will again in after-death. So much latent still to rise, until our rising lifts us to a depth of questions every truth we’ve ever known. Mud-stirred of first-clay. Plaything of a potter who fell in love with hands’ work. Blessed be her handiwork. Blessed be the work of her hands. Blessed be." ~Pat Kozak

I have several friends who are doulas, those who are trained to be companions to pregnancy and birth. I am amazed by their work and by their stories of being witness to the birth of another new one who will walk this earth. It is work that, I imagine, takes patience,wisdom,deep relationship,trust and a large dose of hope. I send blessings and prayers for all those engaged in this holy companioning.

Our family has been, in a sense, acting as doulas over the last several weeks as we have kept watch over a nest built in the tree that is adjacent to an upstairs window. When we noticed it, the fat mother robin was not sitting there and I climbed into the attic to peer down to see if there were indeed any eggs in it. There, fragile and brilliant blue, lay one single egg. Within moments the mother was back and settled in. Over the days that followed, we observed the father bringing food to the nest, heard raucous sounds as a crow was chased away, until finally my climb once more into the attic produced a glimpse of a pitiful, ugly little squirming mass.

Winds were strong over the next days and yet the mother sat tight on her offspring, shielding it from cold and the chance of being blown to its death. It was at that moment that I remembered a book our boys had loved as children. It was called "Are You My Mother?" and told the story of a baby bird who had fallen out of the nest and went searching for its mother. The bird would approach other living things, a dog and an owl, asking "Are you my Mother?"Throughout the story, of course, there were near misses with danger until finally the baby bird comes to a crane and asks "Are you my Mother?" The crane gave no answer but slowly lifted the bird back into the nest where it was reunited with the mother who had been searching for it.

The reality of course is that there was really nothing our family did to help this little bird into the world.The ways of Creation have provided for that. But we did feel somehow connected to these harbingers of spring, those we look so ardently for in April and May. We kept watch and became witness to the fragility of their lives. I would love to think that had the winds blown the baby from its nest, we could have been like the crane and returned it safely to the presence of its Mother.

But there was no need. This morning I saw the robin, now looking more adolescent than infant, scraggly feathers poking out from its growing body. The Mother was not home and the bird was walking with a feigned confidence around the edge of the nest. It is waiting to fly.

As a Mother, I know that look. It is one that fills our hearts with fear and pride and resignation. It is a reminder that the real job of parenting is to give our children roots……………..and wings. Blessed be the handiwork. Blessed be. Blessed be

I have been spending time these last weeks with the Book of Exodus, most specifically with Moses. We are about to have the installation of an art show based on the life of Moses and the Ten Commandments. I have to admit always loving this book of the Bible. It is, what is known in storytelling circles as, A Big Story. I love the characters, the drama, how you know what is going to happen before it does but you can’t stop the people from doing stupid things. Moses couldn’t. God couldn’t. And neither can the reader. It makes for perfect storytelling.

I picked up a book by Rabbi Harold Kushner that someone recommended to me when she found out I was mining the life of Moses. It iscalled Overcoming Life’s Disappointments. In the book Kushner uses the life of Moses and the Israelite people to help readers find some wisdom and balance in the inevitable disappointments that come with living.He writes about his book: "It is a tribute to the human quality of imagination, the ability to dream and to envision a better world than the one we live in, and to the human quality of resilience, the ability to go on bravely when those dreams don’t come true."

Moses is given a thankless job in so many ways. Only Charlton Heston could make it look good. He was entrusted with a group of whining, quarrelsome, nagging people who wanted someone to take all the responsibility but also wanted things to turn out just the way they thought they should. Not an easy leadership gig. Ever been in this situation?

Moses finds himself leading this group reluctantly. He tried to convince God that he was definitely not the person for the job. He tried to point out other people who would be so much better.Sound familiar? But in the end, the Holy One’s confidence in him prevailed and he heads out into the wilderness.

Ahh, yes, the wilderness…where seas must be crossed, and plagues must be overcome, and food falls from the sky. Moses, the reluctant prophet, slowly begins to take on the role that has been given him. Through it all he has high moments of revelation and very low moments of despair and great anger.

The catch? God promises to be with him, traveling right along side him, no matter what. Even when dreams were lost, when disappointment threatened to overwhelm him, Moses knew that right there, a breath away, was the One who had birthed him and pulled him out of the waters of his mother’s womb.

The gift of Moses’ story?  It teaches us so much about our own.

"She named him Moses, ‘because,’she said, "I drew him out of the water." Exodus 2:10

"In every deliberation we must consider the impact on the seventh
generation… even if it requires having skin as thick as the bark of a
pine."    ~Great Law of the Iroquois

Yesterday I wrote about the three simple rules from a book by Rueben Job. The first rule for living a life to change the world was ‘Do No Harm’.  Upon reading this concise statement, I thought immediately of the Seventh Generation principle often spoken of in ecological circles. It is a concept of sustainability, borrowed from the wisdom of the first people, that invites all people to think of how their actions today will affect the generations to come…..imagining out seven generations. Let’s see, that would be my great,great,great,great,great grandchildren. It is a sobering thought. How does my living today create opportunities, or lack, for those who will carry my DNA into the far-reaching future? How can I resolve to ‘do no harm’ in the anticipation of their walking this Earth?

Doing no harm is not necessarily passive work. It can take a certain amount of thick skin ….just like the pine….to resist the lures of the easy life of throw away bottles, cars that use massive amounts of fossil fuels, and entertainment that sells short our creative spirit. Doing no harm can often mean going against the flow, not buying into a culture of fear and hopelessness.Doing no harm can be as simple, and as difficult, as saying ‘no.’ No to poverty. No to abuse.No to religious messages that are harmful.No to war. No to more. No to all those little things that add up to mountains of trouble for the great, great, greats yet to be.

This practice is not born out of stubbornness or rebellion but out of a great hope. Susan Werner, who performed at our church in April wrote a beautiful, soulful song that speaks to this way of walking in the world.

r life."There is a hope
That’s been expressed in you
The hope of seven generations, maybe more
And this is the faith
That they invest in you
It’s that you’ll do one better than was done before
Inside you know
Inside you understand
Inside you know what’s yours to finally set right
And I suggest
And I suggest to you
And I suggest this is the best part of your life."

Hundreds of years ago, a great, great, great I did not know, imagined a world for me. And now I do the same…….hoping to do no harm, hoping those I only dream about will walk their steps on a whole, healthy,beautiful Earth….and be as grateful as I am.

"These are three simple rules that have the power to change the world. While they are ancient, they have seldom been fully put to the test. But when they were practiced, the world of things as they were was shaken until a new formation, a new world was formed." Rueben Job

This past week at our annual gathering of United Methodists around Minnesota, we were given a book entitled:Three Simple Rules:A Wesleyan Way of Living. It is written by Rueben Job, a former bishop in our denomination. I have always found his writing engaging, challenging and holding a certain openness that appeals to me and so I look forward to reading it. It won’t take long. It is a tiny book, only sixty three pages and is dark brown with gold lettering and a simple border on the cover. Nothing flashy.

The Preface is called "Three Simple Rules…that will change your world." I was intrigued so I searched through to see what they were. One: Do No Harm.  Two:  Do Good.  Three: Stay in Love With God. On first read, Simple enough, I thought, I can do this.

The idea of this Rule is similar to that of St. Benedict, which is really a ‘practice’ more than a list of rules to follow. I believe it is the Quakers who hold to the practice of "Do No Harm’. Coincidentally, doing no harm calls for a certain level of quiet, as in keeping your mouth shut at the right time, of listening deeply to the words of another. Not always easy, but I’m up for the challenge. Will I be able to suspend my judgments, be an active listener, keep a soft heart in the midst of difficult conversations? Will I let the words play through my head several times before I speak in an effort to do no harm? Will I think carefully before I act, before I step, before I…..? You get the picture.

And then there is ‘Do Good’. Of course, the intention is always to do good. But sometimes understanding what is the greater ‘good’ in a situation is more difficult than expected. And doing good is more than just being nice or fair….it is really about answering the question ‘what would be the holy action?’ What would bring about a peaceful, positive movement in the world? How can goodness be personified?

And then there’s the love part. Not just "love God’ but ‘stay in love with God’. When ‘in love’ a person can do some wild and crazy things! You see the world with wide eyes and intensified energy. Everyone looks more beautiful…especially the One you love. When in love, you can stay awake all night thinking how fabulous the world is, how blessed you are, how great your life is because you are loved by such a Beloved. Being in love is dangerous business, too, because you risk your heart, your very life for the love of the Other.

Oh my, I guess I’d better stop speculating about this little book and see what Rueben Job has to say about this rule, this practice to change my world. I’ll give you a review as soon as I’ve finished. In the meantime, I’ll be practicing.