The Abbey of the Arts is hosting her 40th Poetry Party:  Honoring the Ancestors.  Visit her site to read what others have written and if you’re so inspired, add your own words to the Party!

(Photo by © Christine Valters Paintner at Abbey of the Arts)

Lingering at the edges

and deep in the center of my being,

you are speaking of family stories,

told again and again,

reminding us from where we come

and who belongs to who,

helping us see

the bigger picture of our family.

But there are

two particular gifts that shaped me

in ways I am now

beginning to understand:

The purchase of a used piano

for our family,

for me,

because I always

played your piano when

we came to visit.

The offer to pay for

voice lessons when I started college,

because you were more

aware than I

of my need to sing,

of my need to find my voice.

Now, when I sit at the

piano you gave us,

now when I sing in the choir

 or at home,

I receive the gift behind the gifts:

the invitation to become myself,

and to embrace that which 

feeds my soul.

Every year in October a dear friend and I make applesauce.  It’s a great way to usher in the autumn season while preparing some delicious treats to be enjoyed in the cold winter months.  Three years ago our “applesauce day” followed my “Declaration of Independence Day.”   Just recently the last legal piece was finished up, and the day before my friend and I made applesauce.  Such sweet bookends to this three-year journey. 

Over the years I’ve learned much from our applesauce making…

choosing… lots of options but which one is the best for this occasion?

 

peeling away the outside, taking out the core and seeds, leaving the substance of the apple for the sauce

 

the slow process of cooking which can’t be hurried;

it’s about patience ~ trying to hurry the cooking only results in burnt applesauce which doesn’t taste nearly as good as burnt & crispy chicken

 

and finally, enjoying the fruit of our labors.

 

May you be blessed by the fruits of your labors in this harvest season!

 

 

 

 

Some days things seem to be brought together.  Today was one such day.  At worship this morning we dedicated our Prayer Shawls and all our knitters. 

 

Since we began knitting the shawls and offering one to anyone, anywhere, in need of a tangible form of prayer and comfort, we have shared over 150 shawls.  During the children’s thyme a story was shared about sheep and knitting, and how a young sheep learned that to knit means “to bring things together.” 

And the choir sang, ”A Time for All Things”, beautiful words to a Scottish tune with a pleasant lilt to it…

 To everything there is a season…

  A time to plant and a time to reap, a time to lose, a time to keep;

   A time to weep, a time to laugh, a time to mourn, a time to dance…

   A time to follow, a time to lead, a time to speak and time to heed;

   A time to sleep, a time to wake, a time to give and a time to take.

   For all the blessings of our God, are given us that we might have..

   A time for all good things.”        (Douglas Wagner)

 

This afternoon I had the pleasure of attending the Southwest Michigan Community Harvest Festival, A Celebration of Local Food, Local Farming and Sustainable Living.

A variety of people and activities came together: food vendors, local musicians, advocacy groups, educators, farmers and lots of community-minded folk.  It was a time for learning and receiving, a time for eating and celebrating, a time for bringing  good things together. 

     

 A community with which to worship, a shawl on our shoulders to hold us in prayer, a song in our heart proclaiming the rhythm of life, a festival of food, music, nature, and community… a day knit together with many blessings.

May the blessings of knitting, of good things brought together, weave their way into your life!

I’ve been seriously leaning into the slow pace of summer, resting in my new home after 2 moves in 4 months, enjoying the companionship and entertainment of a  few woodchucks in the back yard (we’re learning how to co-exist), lots of birds, and of course our dog and two cats.   And not doing much on the computer including writing any new posts.   But this week’s Poetry Party at The Abbey of the Arts offers a gentle path to ease back into this part of my life.  Thank you Christine!

 

Like watching grass grow

so moves the inner life

in this season.

So sit a spell,

watch some of earth’s 

smallest creatures

go about their lives,

and trust the process.  

 

Christine at the Abbey of the Arts writes these words in her invitation to this week’s Poetry Party where the theme is “Guardians of the Threshold”

 

“The feminine with its archetype of welcoming, nurturing, enfolding energy is the Sacred Yes of our lives — all those things, people, and opportunities we embrace.  The masculine with its archetype of boundary setting and protection (think warrior) is the Sacred No of our lives — the healthy setting of limits and protectors of our gifts and energies so we don’t over-extend ourselves.”

 

 

Inviting words with a delightful image to ponder… I’m considering searching for just the right creature to sit at the door of new home.  As I try to converse with this image, most of my words are getting tangled up in details of moving and the stuff of boxes, but these few words come forth:

 

 

 

 

Let her Yes mean Yes

Fully, sincerely

Firmly, honestly

Coming from her core

Honored by all

May her Yes be a “Sacred Yes”

Let her No mean No

Fully, sincerely,

Firmly, honestly

Coming from her core

Honored by all

May her No be a “Sacred No”

 

 Woven into living

together each yes and no

sustain life

set boundaries

nurture hope

redeem wounds

honor the Holy One

delight the Spirit

 

May it be so!

 

Vine and branches. 

Abiding and bearing fruit. 

Staying connected and showing compassion. 

Prayer and action.

Once again balance was offered as a way of living in God’s world.  And on this Mother’s Day we were reminded of the intimate relationship between caring for ourselves and others and caring for the earth.    As a tangible expression of this dimension of our faith, we shared in the “Greening of the Cross”: flowers of all kinds were brought forth and placed on the cross as an expression of gratitude or honor or prayer for someone special in our lives.  This resulted in a lush tangle of green, a weaving together of lives lived fully in the past and present, all symbolizing our life together and our abiding in the presence of the Holy One.  It was simply beautiful.

 

 On a beautiful Sunday afternoon in May

we walk a distance of our choosing,

 5 miles or 1 mile or around the park block,

sporting comfortable shoes with perhaps a water bottle in tow.

Chatting with friends, we anticipate the snack we’ll enjoy afterwards.

                  

Every day, of every month, year after year,

they walk a distance already determined by need,

5 miles, or 8 kilometers, or more,

with or without shoes,

no water bottle in tow because they’re walking

to bring back the water, or food, or fire fuel needed for that day,

so they can return again tomorrow for more.

Chatting with family and friends,

they anticipate the work that has to be done before a simple meal is eaten.

                                

                

Earlier on that Sunday morning,

we gathering around the Table,

remembering hunger is more than physical

tho it begins there.

In his words, “this is my body, broken for you,

do this in remembrance of me,”

we hear the call to take steps

to fill the hunger of others.

We choose to walk because they have to walk.

 

 

Continue celebrating the earth with this week’s Poetry Party at Abbey of the Arts!

                                          

 

 

Countless Gifts

 

 

The apple blossom tree that finally

bursts forth in vibrant pink petals

 

The lake that is large and deep enough

to receive unspeakable grief

and offer waters of rebirth

 

The deer that cautiously ventures to

the prairie’s edge to seek sweet tender grass

 

The loud claps of thunder that

echo terror within that has no words

 

The rocks in the river that day after day

and year after year stand firm against the stream’s current

 

The hard mallet against the stretched hide of the wolf

that sounds out the vibrations of life

 

The succulent juices of an August peach that

delight the tongue’s taste buds

 

The sacred silence of the clear still night that

speak volumes of life’s energy

 

O Blessed be the countless gifts of the earth!

 

“Let us remember within us…” 

                                                               (John O’Donahue: Praise of the Earth”)

 

In her essay ”Poetry Is Not A Luxury” Audrey Lorde speaks of the necessity of poetry, of its healing and redemptive qualities.  I thought of how true that is in my own life, not only of poetry but of the creative process in general.  This is often how I process life, how and where I discover meaning throughout the seasons and challenges of life.  As I pondered and chose the words to use in my journal for “outside”, “nature”, “creation”, I landed on  created world.   I like this phrase because it reflects, as least for me, an intimate connection with the Creator. 

Then I wondered if the need and deep longing to create, was and is and will be, a vital part of our Creator’s being.  If that’s why we exist, why spring bursts with color and new life, why we are brought to tears at the cry of a new born or an intimate expression of love, why music can move us deeper than words, why hope exists where logic says it doesn’t have a chance… creative expressions of the ongoing process of life and of the Holy One’s presence within.

                          

 

                       

Perhaps this is one of the reasons, unconscious though it may be, that we are responding to farmer’s markets and connections with the people who grow our food: deep within is a yearning to be in touch with this creative process, and connecting with our food at a local level meets more than one basic need.

                             

Perhaps this is one of the reasons the knitting class that I planned for the Seniors for 4 weeks ~ to give the women a chance to learn, or relearn, how to knit ~ has become an ongoing group: deep within is a yearning to create, to, in some small way, be a part of the larger creative process.  And creating in community with a group of women whose company we enjoy only adds to the value.

I realize that this is not a new insight.  However I am grateful that I worship with a congregation where this is the focus the Sunday after Easter.  That our relationship with Creation is an intimate part of our relationship with the Creator.  That this relationship is an expression of our Easter faith. 

Earthy blessings of Eastertide to you and yours!

 

The Poetry Party has returned ~ come join in!

 

 

They gather behind closed doors,

leaving behind, at least for a short while,

those who too easily hurl insults and objects and disrespect.

 

They speak with honesty of life’s hard blows,

mincing no words,

sharing Good Friday stories,

telling of scenes no human eye or soul ought ever to witness.

 

Yet under this pain,

lingering at the edges,

seeping up from within

is hope:

 

hope that wears a tough facade,

hope that understands the importance of boundaries,

hope that believes violence doesn’t have the last word,

hope that finds strength in sharing one’s story in a safe community,

hope that hopes within there is still a young girl free to run on the beach,

hope that offers resurrection in the hard places of life.

 

Who are these women?

   the first apostles?

   our neighbors?

   our friends?

  our selves?