"The blizzard of the world has crossed the threshold and it has overturned the order of the soul." Leonard Cohen

How is it with your soul? It is said that John Wesley, the father of Methodism, began his weekly Holy Club meetings with this question. Not ‘how are you?’ or ‘whassup?’ or even ‘what’s happening? but ‘how is it with your soul?’  It is a daunting question. How would you answer?

In the frantic, driven world in which most of us travel, it is often very easy to lose track of our soul…that center from which we move and have our being, that place where we connect with the Holy. Even in the church we spend a great deal of time and energy planning, preparing and doing and very little time nurturing our soul, listening for the Sacred voice, attuning our internal rhythm to the One who would bring us to wholeness.

Yesterday I spent time with a friend walking along the Mississippi River. We looked at the huge trees that grow on the banks, those whose root systems seem to be completely above ground, erosion has washed away the soil that had been their home. The trees, hundreds of years old perhaps, still managed to grow, bringing forth leaves and branches, homes for the many birds that use the river as a compass, and, in addition, oxygen for we fragile humans. How is this possible, we marveled? It seems the trees, though tossed about by wind, rain, snow and ice, are connected in some unseen way with their soul, the center of who they are in the world. Their fortitude gave me comfort….even when the ‘blizzards of the world’ toss our soul about, there is a strength that holds us fast.

So, how is it with your soul? Has heat, blizzard, drought, storm, taken its toll? Today I will rest in the image of those trees, still doing their work in the world, still mustering their creativity, their life-giving forces. Through my encounter with their soul, my soul finds refreshment.

"Listen, are you breathing just a little, and calling it a life? While the soul, after all, is only a window, and the opening of the window no more difficult than the wakening from a little sleep."  Mary Oliver

Have a blessed weekend………………….

"Enjoy the little things, for one day you may look back and realize they were the big things." Robert Brault

This message graced my colorful little desk calendar earlier this week. I tore it off as I was watching parents up and down our street as they waited for the bus with their children on the first day of school. I wanted to run to the door and yell "Enjoy the little things.…." But I didn’t, lest they think I had completely lost my mind. They didn’t need someone who had stood where they now stand telling them how quickly the time goes, reminding them to enjoy the little things….sticky fingers, toothless smiles, lost shoes, silly giggles. They were engrossed in preserving the moment with video and photos which will be treasured for years to come.

Our days, our years, are made up of little and big ‘things’….washing the dishes, making appointments, receiving accolades, delivered disappointments, driving in traffic, walking the dog, caring for an aging parent….the list goes on. Every day we take the small scraps of the fabric of our life and bind them together with the threads of patience, love, commitment, frustration, determination, hope, and perhaps faith. Each night we crawl under the weight and comfort of this crazy quilt of the little and big things that have happened that day. Under its warmth,some nights bring spectacular dreams and others, nightmares.

When I listen to people tell of those things, those times they most treasure, they are often the little things….walking through the woods, observing a hummingbird feeding, making mudpies, simply sitting with a wrinkled, weathered hand in theirs, snuggling with a small child reading a favorite story. Of course, big splashy vacations are fine, mountaintop moments are not to be dismissed. But for my money, I’ll take the little things, the ordinary tasks and gifts of every day that add up to so many big memories. The simple encounters of another person, a shared meal, a good laugh or a tender tear….little things in the scope of the universe….big things in the fabric of our lives.

Today may God give me…give you…the grace to recognize those little ‘things’ and to hold them dear.

"Apprehend God in all things, for God is in all things. Every single creature is full of God and a book about God. If I spent enough time with the tiniest creature-even a caterpillar-I would never have to prepare a sermon. So full of God is every creature."  Meister Eckhart(1260-c.1329)

A mid-July horoscope read: "With the right attitude, you can make almost anything happen. The key is having the patience to continue even when you don’t see results." For some reason, I cut the section out of the paper and stuck it in a book. Do you ever do such a thing? At the time, those words seemed important. Perhaps I was having a "bad attitude" day and needed a reminder to buck up. Today when I found the small scrap of paper tucked away I wondered what had been going on that July 21st that these words spoke to me.

Attitude. I often tell my children–and myself–that it’s time to make an "attitude adjustment"…..that re-thinking of a perspective on a situation or my behavior or the behavior of someone else.  Some people call it  "reframing". It is a helpful tool when I get stuck in being "right" or wanting things done the "way we’ve always done it."

The second part of this horoscope may be the most difficult…. having the patience to continue even when you don’t see results.…or at least the results you wanted to see. For me this is where faith comes in…faith that there just might be something at work that will bring about a greater good than I ever could have imagined. I have certainly seen times in my life where I have planned, worked hard, given my all, only to have things turn out much differently than I wanted, sometimes in ways that seemed like failure. Then, a few days or months or years go by and I see that the thing that didn’t happen really opened the door for the better thing to come about in my life. It is a strange and difficult life lesson.

Attitude. Patience. Faith. Three words packed with promise. Good words to walk into the world with today.

"Does one really need to fret about enlightenment? No matter what road I travel, I’m going home." Shinsho

"Releasing the separate one is a difficult knot. Finding yourself is something only you can do. Imagine yourself coming back 10 years from today through time, to help you where you must now be." Jim Cohn

And so it begins. Labor day is past and school begins today for most students. Another year of learning…both academic and life lessons….is ahead.  It is a day of possibility, of hope, of promise. It is a day that always fills me with great emotion.

A few weeks ago I was reading an article in the Sports section of the Star Tribune. It was the overview of high school sports with the statement…."every team begins the season undefeated." It was a great image. Every team, no matter the record of last year, no matter the size of the school, the skills of the players, begins the season undefeated.…the promise of becoming a team of winners is, at least for a moment in time, within their reach.

Our younger son has just left for the first day of school which is, at his high school, a day for freshman only. He is a junior and will participate in a wonderful mentoring program that welcomes those youngest to school, helping them find their way around the building, eating lunch with them on their first day, answering their questions, and assuring that, at least one person, knows their name. These fragile teenagers will be welcomed into the school by smiling faces, applauding them as they enter the school, traveling through a tunnel of well-wishers, calling out after them as if they were rock stars.

Many will arrive feeling nervous, anxious, overwhelmed, unsure of so many things….what they are wearing, who their friends will be, what is safe, the languages spoken around them.Others will arrive already bored by the prospect of classes they have no interest in and see no reason for. Still others will arrive excited at this new step along what has been a successful school career, sure of their academic abilities, provided with all the resources, financial and human, they could possibly need. This is a snapshot of public school.

In the sports world,everyone begins the season undefeated. In the academic world, we know this is not true. Many students come to school without breakfast, with limited sleep, without the supplies they need, without the support and nurture of the adults in their lives. They are already hounded by their past failures…their inability to read well, learning disabilities, behavior issues….so many things that can cause them to begin the new year defeated.

If I could I would send a blessing to each and every student today, from kindergarten through college, that they might begin this season of school undefeated. I would hover over every bus stop, in every carpool, at the door of every school and pray words of protection and inspiration, of hope and creativity, of belonging and being known. I would swoop down and whisper in their ear, "Remember, you are marvelous!" because you are a child of God.

I invite you to join with me in this prayer…..as you pass schools today simply extend a blessing toward the students and teachers inside that they may begin this season undefeated. Who knows, if we all join together, our collective and blessing and energy might help create a championship season.

"One day we will see God the Almighty, the Creator in every child and perhaps discipline the child as we wish to be disciplined…and forgive the child as we wish to be forgiven…and love the child as we wish to be loved…and uplift the child as we wish to be uplifted…and teach the child as we wish to be taught. For one day we will understand, we will know the Child is God recreated and God is the Child manifested in flesh. One day we will see God the Magnificent, the Beautiful, in every child."  Sonsyrea Tate

Today is a day to be savored…..it sounds as if the next several days will be similar…. beautiful sunshine, brilliant blue skies, grass freshly painted green from the recents rains, temperatures not too hot, not too cold. Camelot days…..days to savor. Of course, each day is a gift, we know this. Twenty-four wonderful hours to be held gently, to be experienced in all their fullness. But days like today are meant to be enjoyed slowly, with intention, with our eyes…and our hearts…wide open.

The fact that we will be receiving these beautiful days on a holiday weekend seems we are, as some of my friends from the South say,  "twice blessed." The beauty of the weather and the extra time to enjoy them. Twice blessed…..what a wonderful statement.

When I was a senior in high school I became spellbound with the poetry of e.e. cummings. I loved his writing and the fact that he wrote using only lower case letters. This was not, however, taken lightly by my English teacher when I began handing in papers following his lead. But it surely must have been a day like this that led E(dward) E(stlin) to have written the following famous words:

i thank You God for most this amazing
day: for the leaping greenly spirits of trees
and a blue true dream of sky, and for everything
which is natural which is infinite which is yes

(i who have died am alive again today,
and this is the sun’s birthday, this is the birth
day of life and of love and wings: and of the gay
great happening illimitably earth)

how should tasting touching hearing seeing
breathing any-lifted from the no
of all nothing-human merely being
doubt unimaginable You?

(now the ears of my ears awake and
now the eyes of my eyes are opened)

I offer these words to you….perhaps they can be a prayer to begin your morning or end your day. These are days to savor……may we take hungry, thirsty, intentional, grateful bites.

Have a fabulous weekend…………

I picked up a recent issue of Women’s Press, a local newspaper dedicated to women writers, women’s issues and advertising targeted toward women’s products and services. One of the columns featured the question: "What pulls you off center?" I found it to be a compelling question. What does pull me off center? What is ‘center’? What gets me back to that center?

I have noticed that the rhythm of my week often begins ‘off center". Mondays….this is probably true for most people…may begin fairly centered but as the day progresses, the centeredness I may have achieved on Sunday becomes clogged with lists, details, things to be done, and I can find myself starting to spin off center. Monday flows directly into Tuesday which, for me, usually holds lots of meetings in which my lists grow longer, the details thicker, until by Tuesday evening I can feel as if my head is twice as large as it was on Sunday…I’m ready to topple over with the weight of it. Does this ever happen to you?

Over time I have come to know that this is just how it is, how it will be, and have adopted some self-talk to "let it be". I rest into it, not fighting the flow of it. Wednesday becomes the day when I can make my way systematically through what needs to be done and usually, by day’s end, I have waded through the piles and righted myself. Ahhhh…..

That feeling of being off center can come at any time….when things don’t go as planned, when illness strikes, when ‘things’ are lost or misplaced, when children are upset or disappointed,and on and on. Deep breathing always helps…..getting in touch with my life Source….slowing down my accelerated heart rate in the process….and coming to rest in the Great Land of Perspective. In this land, my center is calm and steady, sure in the words of Julian of Norwich that "all shall be well, and all manner of things shall be well." Perhaps not how I planned….or how I wanted….but well.

"Heal our inner sight, O God, that we may know the difference between good and evil. Open our eyes that we may see what is true and what is false. Restore us to wisdom that we may be well in our own souls. Restore us to wisdom that we and our world may be well." J. Philip Newell

"This being human is a guest house. Every morning is a new arrival. A joy, a depression, a meanness, some momentary awareness comes as an unexpected visitor. Welcome and entertain them all! Even if they’re a crowd of sorrows, who violently sweep your house empty of its furniture, still, treat each guest honorably. He may be clearing you out for some new delight. The dark thought, the shame, the malice, meet them at the door laughing, and invite them in. Be grateful for whoever comes, because each has been sent as a guide from beyond." Rumi

Lately, I have been a part of several circles that have been discussing the concept of hospitality, of welcoming, particularly as it relates to the church. If you are a part of a church community, you know that, like most communities, they are often organized around similarities rather than differences. We tend to hover with our own kind. It helps us feel safe, right, and is, frankly, less messy than inviting everyone to the party. There are less arguments over theology, less conflict over how finances are distributed, fewer questions about who gets to do what, and most importantly, we all agree on which hymns are best. This arrangement makes life simpler.

Unfortunately, this may not have been what Jesus had in mind. At least for those in the Christian church who find our model for leadership in this radical proponent of hospitality, we are missing the mark by sticking with sheep whose fleece is just like ours. If we follow his lead, we’d be opening our doors to the lepers, the prostitutes, the outcasts, the poor, the homeless, the odd, those possessed by all manner of demons. It was his way…or some might say, The Way.

Welcoming is risky business, but then again Jesus was about risky business. Inviting every person into our community brings both gift and challenge, but ultimately an opportunity for a fuller picture of the face of God. Inviting every experience into the ‘guest house’ of our lives opens us to growth, to a new way of encountering the Holy, to becoming the person we were meant to be.

What kind of newness is knocking at your door this day? What unexpected visitor has come for tea? The invitation is to welcome them in…..all of them…and be open to their guiding. To do so may lead to ‘some new delight’!

It is a holy week…..actually twelve days……here in Minnesota. It is the week of the Great-Minnesota -Get- Together, otherwise known as the State Fair. Now I recognize that not all people see it as a holy week…some find it annoying, tacky, silly…and still others don’t even notice that it’s going on. But, for me and my family, we would be there every day if we could. In fact my husband and I love the Fair so much that we have dreamed of taking vacation and working at the Fair….all twelve days!

Now before you get a misguided view of my love for the Fair, let me explain. It is not the thrills and chills of the Midway that attracts me or even so much the food on a stick. I am, instead, drawn by the cows and horses, the goats and sheep, the pigs and even the amazingly huge boar. And that is not to say anything of all those fresh faced teenagers who care for these fantastic animals. Curled up on sleeping bags next to their wards, applying makeup while sitting on a hay bale, playing cards as a thousand pound beast sits at your feet, how can a person not fall in love with that?

In the horticulture building, I could spend hours poring over the giant, orange pumpkins, the perfect, purple eggplants, the shiny red, ripe tomatoes. The honey room…how is it possible to have so many different colors?….pulls me in with its sweetness. And the row after row of luscious jams and jellies, perfect pickles swimming in vinegar, green beans, miniature pickled corn, all back lit to create a palette of brilliant color that dazzles the eye.

The relationship of human to seed, of human to egg, of creature to Creator, is the message of the Fair for me. Those who offer their animals, vegetables,and fruits to the Fair, do so with at least a tacit understanding that they are a part of the vast miracle that is Creation. Most notably, they do this on our behalf…we city dwellers who may have forgotten where our food comes from,how soil and seed come together to keep us alive, how animals sacrifice their very lives for our sustenance. During the Fair, if we allow ourselves, we are reminded of the great cycles of life of which we all are a part. You can’t put that on a stick!

Barbara Kingsolver in her book Animal, Vegetable, Miracle:A Year of Food Life understands this kind of amazing connection." From the outlaw harvests of my childhood, I’ve measured my years by asparagus. I sweated to dig it into countless yards I was destined to leave behind, for no better reason than that I believe in vegetables in general, and this one in particular. Gardeners are widely known and mocked for this sort of fanaticism. But other people fast or walk long pilgrimages to honor the spirit of what they believe makes our world whole and lovely. If we gardeners can, in the same spirit, put our heels to the shovel, kneel before a trench holding tender roots, and then wait three years for an edible incarnation of the spring equinox, who’s to make the call between ridiculous and reverent?"

State Fair…ridiculous or reverent….you decide.

A couple of weeks ago I heard a story on MPR about a poet named Sally Crabtree who lives in England. Sally was hired by the National Rail Service to soothe the tempers of those who wait for sometimes tardy trains. Her work is to show up on a train platform, set up a poet-tree….a metal tree that has various and sundry items hanging from it…and invite bystanders to choose something. She then proceeds to entertain those waiting for the train by creating an impromptu poem about their item, perhaps people standing by, and what ever else strikes her fancy.  It is difficult to imagine something happening like this in the U.S., especially on purpose, at the direction of big business, to somehow make the patron feel better while at the same time perhaps being inconvenienced. "The purpose of poetry is to delight." says Crabtree.

I loved that statement and I loved the idea that someplace, someone is being employed to ‘delight’. What a glorious goal for one’s work! How might our work be done if, at least one of our goals, was to delight….those who walk into our office, our store, our restaurant, our home, our church? "Allow me, if you would, to delight you with this proposal." "Please, try this soup…I hope you find it delightful". "Welcome to worship today. May you find something that lifts your soul and delights your life." You get the picture.

Crabtree’s notion about poetry’s purpose is correct, I believe, but I also think poetry draws people in because it is a minimalist art form. In a world that throws more words at us that we can take in, where talk radio and talk television shows drone on and on about a subject for numbing hours, to come face to face with a few words that express our deepest feeling seems like a life preserver tossed to a drowning person.

So, today, I hope to be a person of few words…but well chosen ones…words that might perhaps bring delight to somone who needs them most.

"Enough. These few words are enough. If not these words, this breath. If not this breath, this sitting here. This opening to the life we have refused again and again until now. Until now." David Whyte

There are few words to describe the heat of a southern Ohio summer. Visiting home these past few days reminds me of the power of heat in the nineties with a heat index that pushes the experience into the one hundreds. I know there are places where it is hotter, more humid, but the last two days have reminded me why people are meant to slow down, rest, drink plenty of ice cold(sugary) drinks and take an afternoon nap……it takes a lot of energy to exist in the heat!

I have fond memories of my great-grandfather’s farm,especially in summer. It stood in the middle of a large plot of land, cornfields for as far as the eye could see. The approach to it was a long lane that was flanked by a canopy trees. The house itself was a fairly traditional two story white farmhouse. Behind the house stood the "out buildings"….the chicken coop where I would help collect eggs, a shed for feed, a two seater-outhouse, all facing a grape arbor that spanned the length of all the buildings. I loved running down the path of that arbor….vines and grapes climbing high above my head…..it felt the main aisle of a grand cathedral.

But the best building of all was the summer kitchen. It stood at the entrance to the arbor, white wood, a screen door that creaked and slapped shut as people came in and out. In the summer kitchen, was a wood-fed green and yellow cookstove and an icebox. The purpose of the summer kitchen was to keep the house cool during hot, humid, southern Ohio days so sleeping would be easier. Children and adults would sit around the table, talking, drinking sweaty glasses of sweet iced tea and eating a hot midday meal…..another tradition despite the wisdom of such a meal. Then at some point in the afternoon, my cousin and I would be taken inside for naps, our bodies exhausted with running and playing in the heat. My napping place was the daybed in the dining room. From it I could see my great-grandfather’s brown horehair chair in a corner of the living room. Next to his chair was the rack with his pipes and the smell of cherry tobacco wafted into where I was to begin my afternoon sleep. I remember feeling like a princess on that bed.

Microwaves have now replaced a summer kitchen and people don’t eat a hot meal at noon in summer, if ever. But the need to slow down, to give in to the heat of a summer day, still has its appeal and wisdom. There will be many days ahead for striving, for getting things done, for seeing how many hours of work can be packed into a single day. But for now, I plan to drink plenty of iced tea, read a good book, let me eyes flutter a bit in the heat and finally give in to a nap. Seems the sensible thing to do.