I saw an old family friend at the supermarket over the weekend. We greeted each other, hugged, and began to visit.
“Are you keeping them all in line at the Tower?” she asked, referring to the apartment house I live in, which at six stories passes for a tower in a small farm town.
“Well, I do my best but I have a lot of trouble with it,” was my reply. “They’re all at least as ornery as I am.” Then we got kind of serious as I added, “But you know, I really think you need to be ornery if you’re going to live as long as some of those folks have.”
“Yes, you do,” my friend agreed. “A good sense of humor helps too.”
That didn’t surprise me; this lady has always been noted for her sense of humor and zest for life.
“And also, don’t you think it helps to be able to give?” she went on. “To give and take? That’s important too.”
I agreed, thinking of the teaching I’d recently reviewed about the staying power of trees in a wind storm. The old tree, the tall and thick and inflexible tree, will be uprooted in a powerful wind. It’s the sapling, young and bendable and flexible, that will survive the storm. And it’s the same with people. You have to be flexible, to roll with the punches, to go with the flow – or the storms of life will uproot you.
We parted and went on our separate ways. Maybe she continued to think about the exchange we’d had. I certainly did. Now that I am getting into the upper sixties, the aging process has become more personal, and I often find myself thinking about it.
Old age really isn’t for sissies. We have to be tough to survive the pitfalls of life. We lose loved ones, we lose money, we may experience a career change we hadn’t wanted to make, maybe we’re in abusive relationships, maybe we lose our homes in a tornado, we have all kinds of setbacks, all sorts of challenges to surviving life. We have to be strong, tough, and able to take the punches and still get up and struggle on. Surviving – and living a good life as we do so – requires every ounce of strength we have.
In fact, a lot of us find that it requires more strength than we believe we possess. That is one of the things that drive us toward religion in any of its multitudinous forms. Belief in God – however each of us conceives and understands that Entity – helps us to handle what seems overwhelming, when we feel so powerless, so puny against the challenges we face. Those of us who don’t turn to that Entity, to the Source of All Things…I don’t know how they get through life. They must be stronger than I am. I tried living that way once, and it was the greatest mistake I’ve ever made.
Is there anything else we can do to help ourselves live and age well? It almost goes without saying that taking good care of body and mind helps. It isn’t a guarantee. One friend of mine spent her entire adult life doing physical and psychological exercises, only to fall to something that seemed to me like the beginning stages of Alzheimer’s.
Continuing to be active, to learn, and to play will also help us. It is important to keep growing. I firmly believe that the day we stop growing is the day we stop living.
We don’t even know that we will live long enough to reach old age. People in the prime of life get struck down by diseases like Parkinson’s or Lou Gehrig’s.
We have control over our own responses and choices, and that’s all we have to work with. The only thing we can do is…our best. And hope it will actually make a difference
Saturday, March 26, 2011
Saturday, March 12, 2011
Role Models
About a year ago I joined the only adult Sunday school class that my church offers, which does Bible studies with material provided by our denomination. Most of its members are elderly, but there are a few younger members.
I love these people. They are my elders, people to look up to and respect. They were active, working and raising families, while I was growing up. They have known me and my family for probably 50 years. One of them, in fact, knew my parents when I was a toddler. Their beliefs are generally more traditional than mine, but there is still a lot that I can learn from them.
Some of the ladies take turns leading the class. Evelyn, a small woman with a soft voice, believes firmly that the Bible should guide us in all matters. Once in a class we encountered a situation where the Bible has two conflicting statements and while she acknowledged it, she did not really speak to that conflict. Each member just individually decided what we thought about the issue. I found myself wishing that the conflict – which is real – had been addressed either in Evelyn’s comments or in class discussion.
But, while I don’t always agree with Evelyn, I respect her enormously. She walks her talk. She is into mission – which is good and needed – and every winter, she and her husband tour down south as members of Nomads, a group that does volunteer projects. She works hard in the church, and she speaks up for what she thinks is right, and she and her husband are always ready to help someone who “isn’t like us”. I respect her witness and the way she lives her life.
What do I learn from Evelyn? I see that I need more courage to speak up for what I think is right; it’s especially important to speak out, not just in class discussions or normal conversation, but when silence can result in injustice. Right now I’m just picking my battles.
Cathy, a retired schoolteacher, wears a mop of white hair and walks with a cane. She too is soft-voiced. Her views, like Evelyn’s, are traditional. Cathy’s mind is still quite active, and I greatly enjoy visiting with her.
Cathy has become active in environmental issues, speaking out against long wall coal mining. She makes presentations, she writes letters, she attends meetings, she testifies at places. Cathy is very active in this movement. If you want to stimulate the conversation, just ask her what the latest developments are, and she’s off. The lady is a force of nature on the subject.
I learn from Cathy that life isn’t over at 65. She’s still going strong in her lower 80s, physically and mentally. She puts a lot of work and energy into protesting long wall mining. I’ve been struggling not to think that my life is over, that my best years are behind me. Actually, I’m in good health for my age and should still have time and opportunity before my body and mind start to wear out. Cathy is a fine example of the possibilities we can explore as we age.
The wisdom and example we can find from people like these help me get to church every Sunday, even for the early service, even when I’m not sure I belong there anymore.
Being in this class makes me feel a little like a “junior elder,” if there’s such a thing. These folks are strong examples of how the Christian life can be lived. I’m sure they don’t think of it like that. They’re just living their lives the best way they know how. Now that I am in a group of such strong role models, I feel challenged to new growth. Without trying to compare (which isn’t relevant), I feel challenged to become the kind of role models that they are. I take up this challenge because I admire these ladies and would like to truly be like them. It’s a tribute to them, really, rather than a ploy to get attention. You just make the decision to go for it, and put it away, and go on. So like them, I will try to do what they do. Live my life. The best way I know how.
I love these people. They are my elders, people to look up to and respect. They were active, working and raising families, while I was growing up. They have known me and my family for probably 50 years. One of them, in fact, knew my parents when I was a toddler. Their beliefs are generally more traditional than mine, but there is still a lot that I can learn from them.
Some of the ladies take turns leading the class. Evelyn, a small woman with a soft voice, believes firmly that the Bible should guide us in all matters. Once in a class we encountered a situation where the Bible has two conflicting statements and while she acknowledged it, she did not really speak to that conflict. Each member just individually decided what we thought about the issue. I found myself wishing that the conflict – which is real – had been addressed either in Evelyn’s comments or in class discussion.
But, while I don’t always agree with Evelyn, I respect her enormously. She walks her talk. She is into mission – which is good and needed – and every winter, she and her husband tour down south as members of Nomads, a group that does volunteer projects. She works hard in the church, and she speaks up for what she thinks is right, and she and her husband are always ready to help someone who “isn’t like us”. I respect her witness and the way she lives her life.
What do I learn from Evelyn? I see that I need more courage to speak up for what I think is right; it’s especially important to speak out, not just in class discussions or normal conversation, but when silence can result in injustice. Right now I’m just picking my battles.
Cathy, a retired schoolteacher, wears a mop of white hair and walks with a cane. She too is soft-voiced. Her views, like Evelyn’s, are traditional. Cathy’s mind is still quite active, and I greatly enjoy visiting with her.
Cathy has become active in environmental issues, speaking out against long wall coal mining. She makes presentations, she writes letters, she attends meetings, she testifies at places. Cathy is very active in this movement. If you want to stimulate the conversation, just ask her what the latest developments are, and she’s off. The lady is a force of nature on the subject.
I learn from Cathy that life isn’t over at 65. She’s still going strong in her lower 80s, physically and mentally. She puts a lot of work and energy into protesting long wall mining. I’ve been struggling not to think that my life is over, that my best years are behind me. Actually, I’m in good health for my age and should still have time and opportunity before my body and mind start to wear out. Cathy is a fine example of the possibilities we can explore as we age.
The wisdom and example we can find from people like these help me get to church every Sunday, even for the early service, even when I’m not sure I belong there anymore.
Being in this class makes me feel a little like a “junior elder,” if there’s such a thing. These folks are strong examples of how the Christian life can be lived. I’m sure they don’t think of it like that. They’re just living their lives the best way they know how. Now that I am in a group of such strong role models, I feel challenged to new growth. Without trying to compare (which isn’t relevant), I feel challenged to become the kind of role models that they are. I take up this challenge because I admire these ladies and would like to truly be like them. It’s a tribute to them, really, rather than a ploy to get attention. You just make the decision to go for it, and put it away, and go on. So like them, I will try to do what they do. Live my life. The best way I know how.
Saturday, February 19, 2011
When The Pastor is Away
What does a congregation do on Sunday morning when the preacher doesn’t show up? The church I attend suggested an answer to that question recently.
Our pastor was on a mission trip out of the country, and our young youth leader (who is a senior in college) was scheduled to deliver the sermon in his absence. He called to announce that he had overslept, had just gotten up, and would miss the early service.
So there we were. No preacher. A retired minister and several official lay speakers were in attendance at the early service, but nobody was prepared to give an impromptu sermon.
What did we do? In the language of Christianity, the Holy Spirit visited us and urged several of us to go to the microphone and say things. We drew closer together as a church family. We learned about each other. By the time the organist got to the postlude, we all felt the thing had been worthwhile and were glad we had been there.
Yet, it was nothing you would call exciting. It was just regular ordinary people talking about daily living. A farmer told a story that led him to some observations about how we do, or don’t, give. A grandmother told us of her daughter in another state, surrounded by megachurches that did not appeal to her, and how a small congregation began to grow in her own town, and how it is prospering. One of the ushers gave a brief testimony of how his life had been changed when he accepted Jesus as his Lord and Savior. And there were two stories about the answering of prayer. A young mother told a story of a friend praying for tomato soup and getting it under interesting circumstances (when she thought it was going to be a soup she didn’t like, instead); the story has added the expression “tomato soup prayer” to my vocabulary. And an aging data entry specialist (me) told her story of the time she had to drive home from work, a trip of over 50 miles, feeling ill, asking for help in getting home safely—and receiving it.
And there you have it. We had an excuse to just cut the service short and leave (unless we wanted to stay for Sunday school or the later service). That energy or force we call the Holy Spirit had other ways of handling the situation. (I personally think that when the Creator, the Source of All Things, makes his presence felt…that is what we call the Holy Spirit. I am not a Trinitarian—to me, the doctrine of the Trinity does not describe God but the various ways we experience God [or perhaps think we do].)
Be that as it may, the Creator is always ready to take an opportunity to help us grow, and that Sunday morning was a good example of how that works. It was good to have no sermon. I like good sermons, but there are other ways to learn also. We were blessed in other ways, instead. I was glad I was there.
Our pastor was on a mission trip out of the country, and our young youth leader (who is a senior in college) was scheduled to deliver the sermon in his absence. He called to announce that he had overslept, had just gotten up, and would miss the early service.
So there we were. No preacher. A retired minister and several official lay speakers were in attendance at the early service, but nobody was prepared to give an impromptu sermon.
What did we do? In the language of Christianity, the Holy Spirit visited us and urged several of us to go to the microphone and say things. We drew closer together as a church family. We learned about each other. By the time the organist got to the postlude, we all felt the thing had been worthwhile and were glad we had been there.
Yet, it was nothing you would call exciting. It was just regular ordinary people talking about daily living. A farmer told a story that led him to some observations about how we do, or don’t, give. A grandmother told us of her daughter in another state, surrounded by megachurches that did not appeal to her, and how a small congregation began to grow in her own town, and how it is prospering. One of the ushers gave a brief testimony of how his life had been changed when he accepted Jesus as his Lord and Savior. And there were two stories about the answering of prayer. A young mother told a story of a friend praying for tomato soup and getting it under interesting circumstances (when she thought it was going to be a soup she didn’t like, instead); the story has added the expression “tomato soup prayer” to my vocabulary. And an aging data entry specialist (me) told her story of the time she had to drive home from work, a trip of over 50 miles, feeling ill, asking for help in getting home safely—and receiving it.
And there you have it. We had an excuse to just cut the service short and leave (unless we wanted to stay for Sunday school or the later service). That energy or force we call the Holy Spirit had other ways of handling the situation. (I personally think that when the Creator, the Source of All Things, makes his presence felt…that is what we call the Holy Spirit. I am not a Trinitarian—to me, the doctrine of the Trinity does not describe God but the various ways we experience God [or perhaps think we do].)
Be that as it may, the Creator is always ready to take an opportunity to help us grow, and that Sunday morning was a good example of how that works. It was good to have no sermon. I like good sermons, but there are other ways to learn also. We were blessed in other ways, instead. I was glad I was there.
Saturday, February 12, 2011
Let it Snow!
When I was growing up, I kept hearing a song called, I believe, “Let it snow, let it snow, let it snow.” At least those words made a line in the song, whether or not that’s the title of it. I thought a lot about that song the other day during the Blizzard of 2011.
When I looked out my window at 10:30 that morning and saw some snowflakes in the air I thought, Well, it’s beginning.
When I looked out my window at 12:00 noon I thought, Okay, we’re settling in for the long haul.
But when I looked out my window at 1:30 I thought, Boy, am I glad I didn’t go to work today!
The storm developed much more rapidly than I could have expected, by 2:00 it was well established, and it only grew stronger and nastier throughout the afternoon. Some of my neighbors gathered in the community room downstairs and watched through the picture window. I, hermit that I am, stayed in my apartment and watched it from there. By dark, you couldn’t see much out of the window wherever you were watching the storm.
You really could call it a howling blizzard. The wind was blowing so hard that the snow fell horizontally, not vertically. And it was so thick that I could just make out the flag dancing and snapping around in the winds. The houses across the street were pretty visible, but beyond them the view was blurred.
I watched it and marveled. Truly, I was filled with gratitude that I wasn’t out in that storm. I wasn’t homeless. I wasn’t holding a job that forced me to be out in it. I could stay safe and snug in my tiny apartment. And I remained safe and snug because we didn’t lose our electricity.
One thing we can do in response to such a storm is take a moment to remember our blessings, and we all had ample opportunity to do that. I took full advantage of that opportunity as I watched the snow piling up on the ground below my fourth-floor windows.
And once again I was reminded how puny we humans really are. We have built all these marvels—highways, railroads, airports, machines to roll on the roads and rumble on the rails and soar through the air, power grids, telephone systems…All Mother Nature has to do is twitch, and we are paralyzed. We would really be in for it if Mother Nature fully unleashed her energy against us.
So I concluded that another response we can make in such a blizzard is to allow the fury of Mother Nature to humble us, to show us the true perspective of our achievements. I am not putting down our achievements; we have come a long way in the last couple of centuries. However, when all Mother Nature has to do is twitch in order to paralyze us, we need to realize that our achievements are nowhere near permanent.
Perhaps if we could think in terms of working with the natural world, rather than trying to oppose and dominate it, we might be in a stronger position when Mother Nature twitches. It would surely be worth a try.
When I looked out my window at 10:30 that morning and saw some snowflakes in the air I thought, Well, it’s beginning.
When I looked out my window at 12:00 noon I thought, Okay, we’re settling in for the long haul.
But when I looked out my window at 1:30 I thought, Boy, am I glad I didn’t go to work today!
The storm developed much more rapidly than I could have expected, by 2:00 it was well established, and it only grew stronger and nastier throughout the afternoon. Some of my neighbors gathered in the community room downstairs and watched through the picture window. I, hermit that I am, stayed in my apartment and watched it from there. By dark, you couldn’t see much out of the window wherever you were watching the storm.
You really could call it a howling blizzard. The wind was blowing so hard that the snow fell horizontally, not vertically. And it was so thick that I could just make out the flag dancing and snapping around in the winds. The houses across the street were pretty visible, but beyond them the view was blurred.
I watched it and marveled. Truly, I was filled with gratitude that I wasn’t out in that storm. I wasn’t homeless. I wasn’t holding a job that forced me to be out in it. I could stay safe and snug in my tiny apartment. And I remained safe and snug because we didn’t lose our electricity.
One thing we can do in response to such a storm is take a moment to remember our blessings, and we all had ample opportunity to do that. I took full advantage of that opportunity as I watched the snow piling up on the ground below my fourth-floor windows.
And once again I was reminded how puny we humans really are. We have built all these marvels—highways, railroads, airports, machines to roll on the roads and rumble on the rails and soar through the air, power grids, telephone systems…All Mother Nature has to do is twitch, and we are paralyzed. We would really be in for it if Mother Nature fully unleashed her energy against us.
So I concluded that another response we can make in such a blizzard is to allow the fury of Mother Nature to humble us, to show us the true perspective of our achievements. I am not putting down our achievements; we have come a long way in the last couple of centuries. However, when all Mother Nature has to do is twitch in order to paralyze us, we need to realize that our achievements are nowhere near permanent.
Perhaps if we could think in terms of working with the natural world, rather than trying to oppose and dominate it, we might be in a stronger position when Mother Nature twitches. It would surely be worth a try.
Wednesday, February 2, 2011
What Is Wrong With Christmas?
All my life, I have loved Christmas. The colors. The activities and the swirling crowds. The stories. The parties. The generous spirit which, alas, disappears by December 28 every year. The music. Ah, the music. What can I say? I’m in heaven at Christmas time with all the wonderful music that comes out. I enjoy most of the traditional songs, and I positively drool over the seasonal classical music you can find on NPR or PBS, or at local concerts.
Although my beliefs have been transformed so that they no longer embrace many standard Christian teachings, I have continued to love Christmas. Probably for the more “pagan” aspects of the season, for the Bible stories become stranger to me each year. (None of that affects my love of the music.)
Musicians are usually very busy at Christmas and Easter, including me this year, for with a week’s notice I was resurrecting a piano piece and my half of a duet to help my sister out She had been asked, at the last minute, to provide ten minutes of preludes before her church’s Christmas Eve service.
So on top of everything else I do at Christmas, I was seriously practicing.
It really crowded everything else I generally do: cards by snail mail, cards over the internet, shopping, wrapping, baking (not a lot, usually, but some), putting up and decorating my small tree. In fact, there was no baking. I barely got the punch made that I consume during the season, especially when putting up and taking down the tree.
And this year, doggone it, I didn’t really enjoy any of it. I enjoyed Christmas Eve and Christmas Day. That was it.
What really gets me is that everyone else feels the same way I do. When was the last time I heard someone say they were sorry that Christmas was over? Why? What makes us rush around cramming all that activity into a few weeks when we don’t enjoy it? Is there a way I can streamline this, so that Christmas can be enjoyable again?
One thing I might do is start earlier. Which means, before Thanksgiving. I refuse to do that. Thanksgiving is too meaningful for me, and I will not let it get buried in yuletide busy-ness. There has to be another way.
One thing I might do to ease Christmas stress is send cards only to people that I don’t keep in touch with throughout the year. And send as many e-cards, and as few snail-cards, as possible. Local telephone calls would also help to cut the “card load”.
The thing that would really reduce the time and pressure for me is…cutting out that shopping. I can bake presents for local friends, as needed. As for the family, my young great-nephew and I may try to push for a change in the way the family does gifts. That might give us all something new to think about during the season, while easing some of the pressures for all of us. Of course, that all depends on the willingness of the family to go along. Except for my great-nephew who is college now, we have enough stuff anyway.
I will have to think about it this coming year. I love Christmas too much to tolerate being unable to enjoy it. For me, the stories will make a little less sense next year than they did this year. There’s nothing I can do about that. I can’t go backwards, which would undo the marvelous moment that turned me into this Creator-besotted person. But I can work to ease the stresses and re-open myself to the joys of the season.
Christmas is supposed to be a celebration, after all. So let’s enjoy it!
Although my beliefs have been transformed so that they no longer embrace many standard Christian teachings, I have continued to love Christmas. Probably for the more “pagan” aspects of the season, for the Bible stories become stranger to me each year. (None of that affects my love of the music.)
Musicians are usually very busy at Christmas and Easter, including me this year, for with a week’s notice I was resurrecting a piano piece and my half of a duet to help my sister out She had been asked, at the last minute, to provide ten minutes of preludes before her church’s Christmas Eve service.
So on top of everything else I do at Christmas, I was seriously practicing.
It really crowded everything else I generally do: cards by snail mail, cards over the internet, shopping, wrapping, baking (not a lot, usually, but some), putting up and decorating my small tree. In fact, there was no baking. I barely got the punch made that I consume during the season, especially when putting up and taking down the tree.
And this year, doggone it, I didn’t really enjoy any of it. I enjoyed Christmas Eve and Christmas Day. That was it.
What really gets me is that everyone else feels the same way I do. When was the last time I heard someone say they were sorry that Christmas was over? Why? What makes us rush around cramming all that activity into a few weeks when we don’t enjoy it? Is there a way I can streamline this, so that Christmas can be enjoyable again?
One thing I might do is start earlier. Which means, before Thanksgiving. I refuse to do that. Thanksgiving is too meaningful for me, and I will not let it get buried in yuletide busy-ness. There has to be another way.
One thing I might do to ease Christmas stress is send cards only to people that I don’t keep in touch with throughout the year. And send as many e-cards, and as few snail-cards, as possible. Local telephone calls would also help to cut the “card load”.
The thing that would really reduce the time and pressure for me is…cutting out that shopping. I can bake presents for local friends, as needed. As for the family, my young great-nephew and I may try to push for a change in the way the family does gifts. That might give us all something new to think about during the season, while easing some of the pressures for all of us. Of course, that all depends on the willingness of the family to go along. Except for my great-nephew who is college now, we have enough stuff anyway.
I will have to think about it this coming year. I love Christmas too much to tolerate being unable to enjoy it. For me, the stories will make a little less sense next year than they did this year. There’s nothing I can do about that. I can’t go backwards, which would undo the marvelous moment that turned me into this Creator-besotted person. But I can work to ease the stresses and re-open myself to the joys of the season.
Christmas is supposed to be a celebration, after all. So let’s enjoy it!
Saturday, February 20, 2010
James Was Right
The tongue is a fire. At least, it has that potential.
It was the writer of the Epistle (Letter) of James in the New Testament of the Bible who called the tongue a fire. He said that it is very small but can create immense blazes with a tiny spark. He went on to say that we cannot tame our tongues. I’m here to tell you that he was right on the money.
All my life I have had to live with a tongue that has a mind of its own. It goes into action of its own accord. I don’t have to decide to say something; my mouth is open and the words are coming out before I know what I’m going to say. (Friends ask me how I think of those things, and the truth is that I don’t “think” of them at all. I’m as surprised by my words as they are!) In fact, occasionally I don’t even know I’m going to say anything at all until I hear words coming out of my mouth. It’s all the worse if I’m saying something about things I don’t have all the facts about. I have, mostly unintentionally, done quite a little hurtfulness with my tongue during my life.
But that was predominantly in my first (pre-Encounter) life. I still have the difficulty, but it isn’t as bad as it used to be, in my second (post-Encounter) life, because one day I got smart and asked my Source to help me with my tongue. Sometimes He holds it so I can’t blurt out the wrong thing. Sometimes He puts words on it. Even now, if I am surprised by something, you can get the full flavor of my reaction or opinion. But overall, I have learned to recognize and heed the promptings Source has given me about my tongue. My speech can still get me into trouble, but I have had a much simpler life overall since Source took over my tongue.
I will never forget the first time Source rescued me from my, shall I say, straightforwardness. I had recently signed for a house and moved in. It was late spring and I was trying to plant some grass in the strip of lawn behind the house. Weeds had to be dug up, pulled up by the roots, soil had to be hoed and raked, and so on, and I was not accustomed to doing yard work. I asked a friend to come and help me. It was warm of course, downright hot in fact. (This was in Dallas, and even if you start in the morning you’re soon hotter than you want to be.) We hoed and dug and raked and pulled out weeds and I sweated and sweated. There was a moment when I became utterly exasperated with the heat in general and the project in particular. I needed to say something really nasty about how I was feeling, and I actually opened my mouth and drew breath to use language that was as hot as I was…and at that moment I thought, Good heavens, I can’t say that around Ken. Words started to come out, and they astonished me, for they said something like this: “I cannot believe that the pioneers cleared the land and started their farms without the tools we have today!”
Neither could I believe I had said that! It expressed what I was feeling, but it was totally removed from what I had intended to say. (Ken wouldn’t have said anything, but that language would have bothered him.)
There have been many times like that since.
There have been a few times also when I was apparently given messages for the people I was with. This time I was with Bill, in the car one time. We were driving home from work. (Sometimes he and I carpooled.) He was, like me, a trained musician and he was discouraged about his efforts to find work in his field. The car radio was playing “The Ride of the Valkyries”, and abruptly I was saying something like this: “I have no idea what’s going on in the opera here, when they’re doing this music, but it always makes me think of an army of grim-faced female warriors riding their horses to a big battle. Nothing will deter them. They will prevail one way or another.” And somehow the words connected that to Bill and his discouragement. I don’t remember what Bill said, but I think the words helped him. As I continued to drive, I started to feel as though I were breaking out of a dream or some odd waking state, and I was thinking, Did I really say that? Where did that come from, anyway? For lack of a better explanation, I concluded that Source had probably put those words on my tongue and spoken to my friend through me. He will do that; He speaks to us in all sorts of ways, often through others’ words or actions.
There have been moments in pressure situations – oral exams, job interviews – when I really didn’t know what I should say in answer to a question, but when I opened my mouth to try to come up with an answer…there it was, tripping out as though I had planned it.
There is a promise in the Bible that if we have to testify before the authorities, what today we might call the thought police or religion police, our words will be given to us. Now that is a Biblical promise I trust. I’ve experienced it too many times to react otherwise. We often have trouble with Biblical promises that we haven’t experienced in our own lives, or seen in the lives of those close to us. I do, at least. But this one I bet on. When I need control it is there. When I need words they are there.
It’s cool.
It was the writer of the Epistle (Letter) of James in the New Testament of the Bible who called the tongue a fire. He said that it is very small but can create immense blazes with a tiny spark. He went on to say that we cannot tame our tongues. I’m here to tell you that he was right on the money.
All my life I have had to live with a tongue that has a mind of its own. It goes into action of its own accord. I don’t have to decide to say something; my mouth is open and the words are coming out before I know what I’m going to say. (Friends ask me how I think of those things, and the truth is that I don’t “think” of them at all. I’m as surprised by my words as they are!) In fact, occasionally I don’t even know I’m going to say anything at all until I hear words coming out of my mouth. It’s all the worse if I’m saying something about things I don’t have all the facts about. I have, mostly unintentionally, done quite a little hurtfulness with my tongue during my life.
But that was predominantly in my first (pre-Encounter) life. I still have the difficulty, but it isn’t as bad as it used to be, in my second (post-Encounter) life, because one day I got smart and asked my Source to help me with my tongue. Sometimes He holds it so I can’t blurt out the wrong thing. Sometimes He puts words on it. Even now, if I am surprised by something, you can get the full flavor of my reaction or opinion. But overall, I have learned to recognize and heed the promptings Source has given me about my tongue. My speech can still get me into trouble, but I have had a much simpler life overall since Source took over my tongue.
I will never forget the first time Source rescued me from my, shall I say, straightforwardness. I had recently signed for a house and moved in. It was late spring and I was trying to plant some grass in the strip of lawn behind the house. Weeds had to be dug up, pulled up by the roots, soil had to be hoed and raked, and so on, and I was not accustomed to doing yard work. I asked a friend to come and help me. It was warm of course, downright hot in fact. (This was in Dallas, and even if you start in the morning you’re soon hotter than you want to be.) We hoed and dug and raked and pulled out weeds and I sweated and sweated. There was a moment when I became utterly exasperated with the heat in general and the project in particular. I needed to say something really nasty about how I was feeling, and I actually opened my mouth and drew breath to use language that was as hot as I was…and at that moment I thought, Good heavens, I can’t say that around Ken. Words started to come out, and they astonished me, for they said something like this: “I cannot believe that the pioneers cleared the land and started their farms without the tools we have today!”
Neither could I believe I had said that! It expressed what I was feeling, but it was totally removed from what I had intended to say. (Ken wouldn’t have said anything, but that language would have bothered him.)
There have been many times like that since.
There have been a few times also when I was apparently given messages for the people I was with. This time I was with Bill, in the car one time. We were driving home from work. (Sometimes he and I carpooled.) He was, like me, a trained musician and he was discouraged about his efforts to find work in his field. The car radio was playing “The Ride of the Valkyries”, and abruptly I was saying something like this: “I have no idea what’s going on in the opera here, when they’re doing this music, but it always makes me think of an army of grim-faced female warriors riding their horses to a big battle. Nothing will deter them. They will prevail one way or another.” And somehow the words connected that to Bill and his discouragement. I don’t remember what Bill said, but I think the words helped him. As I continued to drive, I started to feel as though I were breaking out of a dream or some odd waking state, and I was thinking, Did I really say that? Where did that come from, anyway? For lack of a better explanation, I concluded that Source had probably put those words on my tongue and spoken to my friend through me. He will do that; He speaks to us in all sorts of ways, often through others’ words or actions.
There have been moments in pressure situations – oral exams, job interviews – when I really didn’t know what I should say in answer to a question, but when I opened my mouth to try to come up with an answer…there it was, tripping out as though I had planned it.
There is a promise in the Bible that if we have to testify before the authorities, what today we might call the thought police or religion police, our words will be given to us. Now that is a Biblical promise I trust. I’ve experienced it too many times to react otherwise. We often have trouble with Biblical promises that we haven’t experienced in our own lives, or seen in the lives of those close to us. I do, at least. But this one I bet on. When I need control it is there. When I need words they are there.
It’s cool.
Saturday, February 13, 2010
About Lists
I am a lover of lists. I make shopping lists. I make lists of household tasks to complete over a long weekend or a vacation. If I am traveling, I make a list of the things I want to pack for the journey. Lists order these things, provide a way to see what needs to be accomplished, and helps you track your progress as you work through the items.
I have a friend who is a mystic. She is a minister, a counselor, a teacher of centering prayer, and I value her wisdom. We met a few months before I left the big city to return to my rural roots, but we have kept the friendship alive via email and telephone calls. There were two or three emails that she sent me in which she wrote about the things she needs to do regularly in order to feel strong and healthy in all respects. I couldn’t help noticing that she always mentioned the same things. This lady really does know what she needs to do. Her lists usually began with centering prayer and sleep, and the other things assumed different places under those two priorities. I would call it a list on maintaining health, or self-maintenance. The complete list would be:
Centering prayer
Sleep
Diet
Exercise
Nature
Drinking water
At that time, I was going through a period in which I was trying to order my life around priorities, and I allowed her list to be one of my guides. But as I did my prayer journaling and worked through various things that happened, I came to develop my own list. If I call my friend’s list a “road map” to self-maintenance, I could call my own list a “road map” to restoring flagging energies, or self-restoration, because after I had followed her list, I still needed to restore energy. There is a smidgen of duplication in my own list, which I call a self-restoration list:
Centering prayer or prayer journaling
Creative activities of all kinds
Personal relationships
Closeness to nature
Solitude and silence
I went so far as to make a sign that shows both lists and tape it up where I see it several times a day. I honestly believe that a person who does these things daily will be healthy physically, mentally, emotionally, and spiritually. (Although I am a voracious reader, I do not include reading or study or even Bible study on the list because all this sneaks in through the other activities. Centering prayer can be done over a passage of scripture or some other writing, for instance, and in solitude and silence I will read and reflect.)
My friend with the brain tumor is having memory difficulties, and for some time I’ve known that she has a birthday present for me but forgets to bring it to church, which is where we usually see each other. (My birthday was in December.) The other day she gave me the present. I cherish the present itself, but it is the card that really got to me. My friend included in her note a list of qualities that a “Godly” life should have, and her list consists almost entirely of words of one syllable:
“To live a life of love, hope, peace, joy, health, trust and faith, and many prayers.”
Now there is a list for you! I would say that if I work to follow the first two lists, my life might actually come to illustrate the qualities on the final list.
So I took my sign down, re-did it to include the third list, and now it looks complete.
I have a friend who is a mystic. She is a minister, a counselor, a teacher of centering prayer, and I value her wisdom. We met a few months before I left the big city to return to my rural roots, but we have kept the friendship alive via email and telephone calls. There were two or three emails that she sent me in which she wrote about the things she needs to do regularly in order to feel strong and healthy in all respects. I couldn’t help noticing that she always mentioned the same things. This lady really does know what she needs to do. Her lists usually began with centering prayer and sleep, and the other things assumed different places under those two priorities. I would call it a list on maintaining health, or self-maintenance. The complete list would be:
Centering prayer
Sleep
Diet
Exercise
Nature
Drinking water
At that time, I was going through a period in which I was trying to order my life around priorities, and I allowed her list to be one of my guides. But as I did my prayer journaling and worked through various things that happened, I came to develop my own list. If I call my friend’s list a “road map” to self-maintenance, I could call my own list a “road map” to restoring flagging energies, or self-restoration, because after I had followed her list, I still needed to restore energy. There is a smidgen of duplication in my own list, which I call a self-restoration list:
Centering prayer or prayer journaling
Creative activities of all kinds
Personal relationships
Closeness to nature
Solitude and silence
I went so far as to make a sign that shows both lists and tape it up where I see it several times a day. I honestly believe that a person who does these things daily will be healthy physically, mentally, emotionally, and spiritually. (Although I am a voracious reader, I do not include reading or study or even Bible study on the list because all this sneaks in through the other activities. Centering prayer can be done over a passage of scripture or some other writing, for instance, and in solitude and silence I will read and reflect.)
My friend with the brain tumor is having memory difficulties, and for some time I’ve known that she has a birthday present for me but forgets to bring it to church, which is where we usually see each other. (My birthday was in December.) The other day she gave me the present. I cherish the present itself, but it is the card that really got to me. My friend included in her note a list of qualities that a “Godly” life should have, and her list consists almost entirely of words of one syllable:
“To live a life of love, hope, peace, joy, health, trust and faith, and many prayers.”
Now there is a list for you! I would say that if I work to follow the first two lists, my life might actually come to illustrate the qualities on the final list.
So I took my sign down, re-did it to include the third list, and now it looks complete.
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