A Lovely Spring Day

In early spring when a warm, sunny day arrives, it is a special gift.  Within a couple months days like this will become common.  However, right now it is to be savored.

Today has been one of those lovely days.  We had to go downtown and ended up walking around and then eating lunch at a sidewalk table.  The city was bustling with kids on spring break and people attending our local music festival.  Short sleeves, sun glasses, smiles, and laughter were everywhere.  It’s hard to frown on a day like this.

At the moment I’m sitting on our deck enjoying the warmth.  There is a chorus of bird calls and songs.  With the exception of the large spruce tree in front of me, the leaves on the trees are just beginning to bud out.  From here I can see our quince bush in full bloom next to our house, the neighbor’s bright yellow forsythia in the distance, plus a few dandelions about six feet away—those are the only flowers.  Many plants still look dead, but I know they will come to life in the next two months.

I tend to come to life in the spring, too.  In the winter I want to sit in my warm house; it takes an effort to venture out.  As the days get warmer and the sun shines longer, I am ready to go out and enjoy the world.  Welcome spring!

Going to Jail for Justice

The alarm went off early, well before sunrise.  I crawled out of my warm bed in my cold bedroom and then quickly jumped into the shower.  I dressed in a black top, black pants, and black shoes.  After breakfast I carefully tucked a rolled black shirt into my waistband, slipped into my black jacket, and placed a pewter cross necklace with the word “hope” around my neck.  I put a thin black wallet containing my driver’s license and a credit card in my jacket pocket.  I was ready.  And I was nervous.

My husband and I climbed into our little Honda.  Fifteen minutes later he dropped me off downtown and I walked a block to the Idaho State Capitol building.  I climbed the stairway to the third floor and briefly joined the people standing across from the House Chambers entrance.  Soon I walked around to the Senate side to join a few people there.  We stood as we had been doing for the past couple of weeks of vigils—silently with hands over our mouths.  However, this day was to be different.  There were more of us than usual which may have made the Senate door guard suspicious.

Two of our group are also lobbyists and were dressed for it that morning.  When the door guard left briefly they tried to go through the closed door but he was back in a flash to stop them.  We had all run towards the door, and being unable to enter we turned around to block the entrance instead.  We stood shoulder to shoulder, hand over mouth, and watched the group on the House side hurry into the House Chambers as our leader held the door.  Their door guard had walked away.  We saw them line up in front of the Speaker’s podium.  The press had shown up and the photos and videos began.  We also had our own videographers, photographers, and legal observers.

Our plan was to enter the Senate Chambers so we watched for an opportunity.  We tried again.  The door guard was determined to keep us out.  At some point this large older man picked up one of our guys off his feet until an Idaho State trooper told him to stop.  His arms were out in an attempt to block us and somehow I got hit in the head; I ended up with a headache.  I think one person got through that time and the rest of us lined up outside again.  On the third attempt I made it through and almost tripped as I ran through the chambers.  I think I was the fourth person to line up in front of the podium.  More came to join us and finally the door guard gave up, allowing the rest of us to come in.  There were eleven of us lined up with our hands over our mouths.  All of us were now wearing shirts saying “Add the 4 Words Idaho.”

Why were we there?  For 10 years Idaho lawmakers have refused to add four simple words, sexual orientation and gender identity, to the Idaho Human Rights Act.  Currently, gay, bisexual, and transgender people in Idaho live in fear of being fired, evicted, and denied service by restaurants and other businesses.  This year a public hearing was finally held.  Legislators on the House State Affairs Committee listened for 3 days while people told their stories of harm.  However, they declined to pass the bill on to the full House, killing it in committee.  Hundreds of hours have been spent at the Capitol educating and lobbying lawmakers.  Compromise language has been offered with support from a majority in both the House and Senate, but the leadership won’t allow it.  Twenty-three of us, ordinary Idaho citizens of all ages, both LGBT and straight, stood in the Idaho State House and Senate Chambers where we said we would stay until serious consideration is given to adding the four words into law.  As our press release stated, “We will remain peacefully, silently, respectfully standing in the Capitol until your deafening silence ends.”

Why did I stand there?  This was not an easy decision for me.  I was arrested once last year; we were cited but not taken to jail.  I knew I would go to jail this time.  I’m recovering from hand and wrist surgery so I would have to wear my brace for protection.  I have back problems which make standing for hours difficult.  Participating in civil disobedience is unpredictable; you never know how others will behave or if they will be peaceful.  However, I believe that all people should be treated equally.  This strongly held conviction has its roots in my deep Christian faith.  I follow Jesus who showed us that God loves all people.  Not only did I think hard about this decision but I prayed.  It is hard to explain in words how God answers our questions.  All I can say is that by Sunday night I knew I needed to be at the Idaho Statehouse the next morning.  I had no doubts.

We stood there in the Senate and House Chambers for over an hour.  We continually switched hands in unison as we got tired.  We shifted our weight from foot to foot as our bodies started to hurt.  News media came in and out.  We were given reports from our leadership.  We learned that we would be removed first since the Senate needed to convene.  (Apparently our presence was a bit of a distraction.)  Finally, we got the official warning; we had 5 minutes to leave or we would be arrested.

It took a lot longer than 5 minutes for all of the Idaho State troopers to arrive.  We were informed that we were in violation of Idaho State code which bars the public from the Senate floor 30 minutes prior to the opening of their session and that we would be arrested for trespassing.  A trooper asked if anyone wanted to leave.  Silence.  One by one he informed each of us that we were under arrest and pointed where we should go.  As we walked out in a line, the cameras filmed us.

We were led to a small room and two at a time we were sent over to be frisked and cuffed.  Our possessions were placed in a large plastic bag and we were all handcuffed.  Everybody had a chain placed around their waist and cuffs were attached to the chain.  Everybody but me, that is.  My brace wouldn't fit in those cuffs so they used flex cuffs which are really like large zip ties.  Our IDs were collected and the information was put into computers.  We were issued misdemeanor citations.  A woman in a wheelchair was cited and released—catch and release, she said.  The rest of us were led out to the waiting bus.

Everybody was sent to the back of the bus but me.  I couldn't really sit down because of the way my hands were cuffed.  The flex cuff was really cutting into my good arm and it couldn't be loosened.  One of the deputies went back inside to get pliers.  He cut off the flex cuffs and put my hands in regular cuffs with my hands in front of me.  Finally I could join the others.  We had to wait a while for the group on the House side to join us.  The deputies were very kind to us.

The deputy in charge explained to us that we would first go to the Courthouse to be processed and then to the jail for mug shots and fingerprints.  If they had the ability to do fingerprints and photos at the Courthouse, they would have; our large number put a strain on the jail.  Our bus drove into the Courthouse garage and we were led into a large holding cell.  One by one we were taken out to be processed.  Our possessions were placed in a plastic envelope, labeled, and taken from us.  We were asked all sorts of questions from address to “Are you depressed?” and “Have you consumed alcohol or narcotics today?”  One by one we went back to a holding cell.  When the women were done, we were led back to the bus.  Without waiting for the eight men, they drove us to the Ada County Jail.  Someone began singing “We Shall Overcome” on the ride over and we all joined in.  Upon arrival a deputy asked us not to sing once we got inside because they had some rather unstable prisoners.  That was sobering.

Single file we walked inside.  Our cuffs were removed and we were placed in two stark holding cells.  Most of us in my cell were older women so the low cement bench was a bit challenging.  As we sat there our view was of a low metal toilet.  One woman asked for toilet paper but explained it was only in case she got desperate.  Two others were grateful that they had been allowed to use the restroom at the Courthouse.  Right next to the toilet was a door with a large window and lots of people outside.  A male deputy would periodically stick his head in to bring one of us out.  Nobody wanted to use that toilet.  One of my companions stated that she was going to wash all of the clothes she was wearing as soon as she got home; she was sure the place was crawling with germs.

One by one we were removed from the cell.  Finally it was my turn.  I got my photo taken from three sides.  No, I didn’t smile—somehow it didn’t seem appropriate.  The deputy took all sorts of fingerprints and hand prints on his machine.  I had to take off my brace for a palm print.  Once done I joined another woman in a seating area; others joined me.  Finally we were each called to be checked out.  I was given my little bag of possessions and walked out with four big men, one of whom smelled a bit.  We wound our way out and finally I walked into the waiting area where our group was gathered.  I was greeted by cheers.  Supporters and those released earlier were there.  Someone gave me a Tylenol for my headache.  I was directed over to the bail bondsman and signed the paperwork.  I was surprised to learn that one of my fellow arrestees had paid the bail for all of us.  How generous!  I gave her a hug.

There was bottled water and all kinds of food for us.  It was not quite 2:00 p.m. and we were starved.  I visited, cheered as people walked out of the jail, and snacked.  My husband arrived to pick me up.  After a bit more visiting, cheering, and snacking, we headed home.  I was tired and I had a headache.

I’m not done.  Of course there will be legal issues; I will get my day in court.  While I do not plan to get arrested again anytime soon, I will be leading our weekly prayer vigils and joining in other peaceful activities to bring justice for our LGBT citizens.  I do this with love and joy because it is what I am called to do.  Add the Words, Idaho!

Waiting for Two Good Hands

It’s been 6 weeks since I had surgery on my hand and wrist for tenosynovitis (swollen tendon sheath).  Luckily it’s not my dominant hand but I have certainly gained an appreciation for having two good hands.

Pain and swelling aside, I have found this experience to be frustrating and tiring.  I had to wear a brace for 6 weeks.  Some of my clothes simply would not fit over it.  Buttoning, zipping, and pulling on clothes are challenging activities.  My husband had to fasten my bra for me.  (What if I lived alone?)  He got so good at it that he said he ought to hire himself out.  Um. . .no.

Getting in and out of the car, putting on the seat belt, and of course, driving, all take a lot more work.  Cooking is impossible but I could use the microwave.  I couldn’t open a jar.  Luckily my husband can cook; we have eaten out a lot more than usual.  We had a few days of nice weather, but I couldn’t ride my bike.  And no puttering in the yard.

The brace is now off, but the hand and wrist are swollen and stiff.  I am looking at weeks of physical therapy.  I am so thankful that this is only temporary and that I can look forward to once again having two good hands.

Just Add the Words, Idaho

I wrote this for the Reconciling Ministries Network; it appeared in the RMN Blog today.  

http://www.rmnetwork.org/newrmn/just-add-the-words-idaho/

As we stood near the doors of the Ada County Courthouse last October, same-sex couples walked out with smiles on their faces and marriage licenses in hand.  Each couple was cheered as they walked out of the building and down the stairs into the crowd.  Same-sex marriage was now legal in Idaho.  What joy there was!

However, these newlyweds can go to work wearing their wedding rings and be fired for being gay.  In Idaho LGBT people have no protection from being fired, losing their housing, or being denied public accommodation for simply being who they are.  For 9 years an organization called Add the Words, Idaho has been working to add the words “sexual orientation” and “gender identity” to the Idaho Human Rights Act but the Republican leadership of the Idaho Legislature refused to even allow a public hearing.  The movement has grown over the years.  Last year four of us from Hillview UMC were among the first 44 people to be arrested for civil disobedience at the Idaho State Capitol.  More church members became active plus I pulled together other people of faith to form the Interfaith Equality Coalition.

Finally, at the beginning of the legislative session in January, a public hearing was held.  The bill was sent to the House State Affairs Committee, the least likely committee to pass it on.  I spent a good portion of that week at the Statehouse sitting through about 17 hours of the 21 total hours of testimony.  The stories of harm were heartbreaking: bullying, suicides, beatings, loss of jobs, being kicked out of public places, denial of housing, fear, hiding, and more.  It was also difficult to listen to the opposition, especially the vitriol and misinformation coming from other Christians, including pastors.  Someone commented that we didn't hear any atheists standing up there in opposition.  We had hoped, by some miracle, that they would vote to pass it on to the entire House for a vote but in the end the vote was down party lines—13 Republicans against moving it on and 4 Democrats for it.  While we expected this, it was disappointing that not one mind was changed.

I was extremely proud of the LGBT people and their families who stood up in public and told such personal stories of discrimination and harm.  I was also proud of our coalition clergy and other members who testified.  We had additional clergy in religious attire sitting in the audience to observe the hearing and to be seen.  After all of the harm done by churches, our LGBT people really appreciate their support.  The Interfaith Equality Coalition is holding prayer vigils every Wednesday in front of the Capitol.  I plan to work on expanding our coalition statewide.  The Add the Words Coalition (about 12 groups, including our coalition) met the afternoon of the vote.  More than half of the people around the table were LGBT—there was a lot of pain.  It's hard but we are not done.  We are all looking at next steps. 

Have we made progress?  Getting a hearing after 9 years is a step.  It does seem that our civil disobedience and protests made an impact.  We had hoped that a bill would be introduced on the Senate side but lawmakers have announced that no new Add the Words bill will be introduced this session.  Some activists have said that this gives us time to get more lawmakers comfortable with the legislation.   But for people who have waited so long and are being hurt, it is hard to be patient.  It's personal.  All I can say to them is that I, along with other people of faith, stand with you.  We’re not done yet.

The Gift of Sight

About a year ago I had my first cataract surgery.  My “bad” eye had a fast-growing cataract that needed to be removed soon, according to the doctor.  I have lazy eye so the vision in this eye is not correctable but the glare caused by the cataract was affecting my other eye.  The surgery went well and the glare was gone.

By fall the cataract in my good eye began to seriously affect my vision.  It was the worst at night while dealing with the glare of oncoming headlights while driving.  However, I also noticed a difference while reading.  Words were often blurry.  I’d clean my glasses and realize that they were not the problem.  This is the only eye with which I can read.  I struggled for a while before returning to my eye doctor.  He confirmed that the cataract had grown and that my vision had deteriorated.

The doctor offered a new eyeglass prescription if I wanted to hold off a while or he could do cataract surgery.  He stated that the success rate is 98-99% and I replied that this was my good eye—he nodded.  I was rather nervous since this is really the only eye I use.  What if there was a problem?  However, I was struggling enough with my vision that I didn't want to wait.  Surgery was scheduled.

Early on a December morning my husband drove me to the surgery clinic.  I was led back to a line of beds with curtains in between.  I received a warm blanket and my friendly nurse began administering drops to dilate and numb my eye.  The people in the beds on either side of me were experiencing the same thing.  My doctor came in to check on me and then later returned to get me, pushing the bed to the surgery room himself.  A nurse anesthesiologist put the happy drug into my IV and soon I was feeling no pain.  Within 10 minutes the surgery was over and I was sitting in a small room with another patient.  Our husbands were ushered in.  The nurse gave us juice and a snack while we listened to our post-op instructions.

Before long I was walking out the door hanging on to my husband because I was a bit wobbly and couldn't see well.  A clear piece of plastic was taped over my eye.  I was instructed to wear it for several hours and also every night at bedtime for one week.  Once home I headed for the recliner and spent most of the day there.  For me, relaxing involves reading so this was a bit of a challenge.  My eye stayed dilated for a couple days so reading was impossible.  The TV was blurry.  The only discomfort I experienced was from one of eye drops which I needed to apply four times a day.

By the next day I was able to do a little housecleaning, some baking, and host an evening Christmas party for my women’s group.  I had one day and one week post-op appointments.  Everything looks good.  I graduated to drops twice a day.

The fog and glare are gone.  The amazing thing is that they can put your prescription into your new lens.  (Cataract surgery involves removing your lens with the cataract and implanting an artificial one.)  I no longer need prescription glasses.  Once my eye is totally healed and the inflammation is gone—which takes about a month—the vision in my eye will be about 20/20.  I can use the computer without glasses.  All I need are drug store reading glasses.  I’m learning to deal with that now.  I began with dollar store reading glasses since my vision is still adjusting—they broke within a couple of weeks.  I’m on pair #2 which has a rather fun design on the frames.  Where do I keep them?  On my head?  In my purse?  Multiples everywhere?  I’m working on this.

I marvel at what I can see again even though my eyes are still healing.  I had a couple days of very poor vision and an inability to read.  I depend on my sight for nearly everything I do.  I am grateful for the gift of sight I received when I was born and now my renewed vision from my very skilled doctor.  What a gift!

A New Year

It’s the first day of a brand new year and while I tend to believe that New Year’s Day is a great time to assess one’s direction in life, I’m wondering if I’m in the right place to do it.  I’m sitting on my mother-in-law’s screened patio in Florida; the temperature is around 74 degrees.  Meanwhile, the temperature at our home in Idaho is around 17 degrees.  We have been away from home for almost 2 weeks; we spent Christmas with our daughters in North Carolina.  For these reasons I feel rather removed from my life in Idaho.  Perhaps that can be helpful in looking ahead.

We spent time in the middle of the lives of our twenty-something daughters and are now with relatives in their nineties—such different perspectives on life.  Our daughters are at the beginning of their adult lives and our elderly relatives, while at the end of their lives, are not done living.  What’s important in life?  The way we view life changes over time.  Our daughters are always in a hurry—there’s an impatience to get where they are going.  The elders have all the time in the world—and yet they don’t.  And what about me?

I find it hard to consider myself a senior citizen although I am over sixty or to call myself retired even though I am not working.  I have never been good about planning for the future but perhaps it is time to do it.  I know I won’t live forever.

We can get by on my husband’s pension but extra money would be helpful.  However, if I work that would limit travel and volunteer activities.  My husband is in his seventies and interested in doing some traveling.  We can’t wait until he’s 80.  I find fulfillment in my community activities.  What is important?

My mother-in-law questioned why I am in a hurry to go home.  (My husband is staying a week longer.)  She suggested that whatever responsibilities I have, others can do them.  On the other hand, in a recent conversation with a retired pastor, I told him that I have considered job hunting but he insisted that what I’m doing is important.  I feel it is, too.

I am grateful to have choices.  These life decisions hinge on who we are and what matters most in our lives.  For some people, retirement means travel, family, and new activities—they do what makes them happy.  What matters most to me?  Family and friends are important to me.  I look forward to traveling to experience new places.  I have hobbies I enjoy.  However, I know that I need more.

My faith dictates how I live.  For my life to have meaning, I need to do my best to bring light, love, and justice into this world.  How can I not?  I got arrested for civil disobedience because I believe discrimination is wrong.  I started a coalition to work on this with like-minded people of faith.  I can’t stop now.  There is more to do.  I want to make a difference in the world around me.  It’s what God calls me to do.

So, what will I do in 2015?  I see the year as an adventure stretching out before me.

Hope through Justice

I am sharing what I wrote for our church's Advent devotion booklet.  Advent is the season that precedes Christmas in the Christian calendar.

On the first Sunday of Advent we light the candle of Hope.  We remember how the Hebrew people awaited the arrival of the Messiah.  They longed and hoped for the anointed one who would bring them to a time of justice and peace.

When Jesus was beginning his ministry, he returned to his hometown of Nazareth.  At the synagogue he stood up and read from Isaiah and afterwards told those present that the scripture had been fulfilled in him.

                “The Spirit of the Lord is upon me,

                                because he has anointed me

                                to bring good news to the poor.

                He has sent me to proclaim

                                release to the captives

                                and recovery of sight to the blind,

                                to let the oppressed go free,

                to proclaim the year of the Lord’s favor.”    

                                                                (Luke 4:18-19)

Jesus brought hope to those who needed it the most.

Over Labor Day weekend I had the opportunity to attend the very first Western Methodist Justice Movement retreat at Lake Tahoe called “Stepping Out in Faith.”  I met Methodists from all over the West who are passionate about justice.  We had workshops and discussions on indigenous peoples, women’s reproductive rights, ministry to LGBTQ people, global economics, disabilities, cultural approaches to death, racism and heterosexism, mental health, immigration, and more.  How do we as Christians, and specifically United Methodists, respond to these issues?  We discussed ways we can step out in faith to work for justice.

The speakers at the conference were inspiring.  One statement particularly stood out for me.  “Never deprive someone of hope; it might be all they have.”  It reminds me of another quote from Harvey Milk.  “The only thing they have to look forward to is hope.  And you have to give them hope.  Hope for a better world, hope for a better tomorrow. . .  Hope that all will be all right.  Without hope, not only gays, but the blacks, the seniors, the handicapped, the us’es, the us’es will give up.”

As followers of Jesus, we spread the word of God’s love for all people.  We can give them the gift of hope by working for justice, following in Jesus’ footsteps.

Holy God, as we begin this season of Advent, we thank you for your gift of your son, Jesus, who brought hope to a hurting world.  Help us to be like him by bringing love and hope to all your people.  Amen.

Gratitude

This has been a quiet Thanksgiving Day—just the two of us again.  My day revolved around cooking.  My girls are on the other side of the country and spent the day together.  Last night I got calls from both of them about recipes.  We cook a lot of the same dishes because they have wanted to continue making some of the food that has become a tradition in our family.  Somehow this is comforting to me.  We are connected across the miles through food.

It is easy to get so caught up in food preparation that we forget what Thanksgiving is all about.  It is good for us to reflect at least one day a year on what we are thankful for.  Gratitude puts our lives into perspective.  Recently I was talking to my older daughter who was in a negative frame of mind.  She had gone through a rough couple of weeks which included a night in the hospital.  She complained that everything had been going wrong for her.  I had to remind her that she had found a new job this year.  Oh yeah.  We often dwell on the negative in our lives and take the rest for granted.  For this reason it is a good idea to ponder all the things in our lives for which we are (or should be) grateful.

I am grateful for my family.  Tonight I talked to my daughters, my mother, and my mother-in-law.  I wish I could see them in person more often but I am so grateful that we can communicate by phone, e-mail, and social media.  I am glad for the technology that allows me to do this.  I appreciate the times we can spend with extended family; they are precious.

I am thankful for my good health.  I do have more problems as I get older but I can still get out and live my life.  I need cataract surgery and I appreciate how common this procedure has become.  Not only is it quick and painless, but they can implant a new lens designed just for you with your prescription built in.  It’s amazing.  Recently I had an MRI on my hand and I got to see the results.  The doctor could confirm the source of my pain and have a better idea what he is facing when he goes into surgery.  I am certainly grateful for that.  I am glad that I have health insurance that helps my pay for my medical bills and prescriptions.  I am thankful for good, caring doctors, nurses, and other health professionals.

I am thankful for my church—the people there are my family.  My husband and I have no relatives in this state but we know if we need help, there is a congregation full of loving people who will be there for us.  I appreciate the faith and wisdom of these people.  They constantly inspire me.  I have learned so much from both the congregation and the pastors who have served us.

I have never been truly hungry in my life.  I have a warm house and clothes to wear.  I have a husband who loves me and stands by me.  He is my friend and partner in life.  My life has been full of cats and dogs that are part of the family.  I know a lot of amazing, interesting people—I have been blessed by them in so many different ways.  Some are friends and some merely acquaintances but they have all touched me.

I could go on and on.  So could most people.  Even in difficult times, there is always something good to be found.  God created a wonderful world for us to experience.  I am grateful for the love that surrounds me.  I am thankful for my life.

Thoughts on Ferguson

Our news has been flooded with reactions to the announcement that the grand jury in Ferguson, Missouri had failed to indict Darren Wilson, the police officer who shot an unarmed 18-year-old black teenager named Michael Brown.  I feel sorry for his parents.  I am angry at the people who rioted and destroyed property.  I don’t really know what happened that day.  I haven’t read the transcripts.  I know there was conflicting testimony.  I wonder why this officer isn’t being brought to trial.

But mostly I wonder what it must be like for a mother to watch her son leave the house and worry that he won't return, to worry that he will be shot by police--for being black, for being young, for wearing the wrong clothes, for being in the wrong place at the wrong time. . . As a mother I just can't imagine what it's like to be that mother.  A report by ProPublica indicates that young black males in recent years were at a far greater risk of being shot dead by police than young white men—a 21 times greater risk.  As a white mother, I don’t have to face such worry and heartbreak.

Racism is alive and well in this country.  We have to acknowledge this and do something about it.  How do we change hearts full of fear and hate?  I pray for peace and justice in Ferguson and in all the other cities in this country that fail to offer equality for all.

Ice and More Ice

Icicles hang in front of my kitchen window.  Our entire yard is covered with a blanket of snow.  Late falling leaves are scattered across the white landscape.  More leaves lie beneath the snow waiting to be raked.

Nobody was prepared for this storm, especially our highway district.  What was predicted to be a few inches turned out to be 7 ½ inches, a November record for us.  The thermometer has not been above freezing in over a week.  Our nightly lows have been in the single digits.  I know that many places in this country get much harsher weather.  But this is Boise, the “banana belt” of Idaho.  This is unusual for us.  Our highway district didn’t get their plows out on the main roads soon enough and they quickly became rutted and icy.  The unplowed side roads are like skating rinks.  I drive down the road to our house with my feet off both gas and brakes using just the steering wheel to try to keep my sliding van on the road.  I hope that nobody is coming in the opposite direction.

We now have an inversion.  Cold, dirty air is trapped in the valley while nearby mountains enjoy warmer temperatures and sunshine.  I venture out for appointments and scheduled meetings or events.  Otherwise I stay home.  I feel a bit trapped.  I look outside and see my little Honda buried in snow.  The landscape is gray and white, totally colorless.  I am catching up on computer and paperwork but I am restless.  The dog is bored.  I would like to say that I am tired of winter but unfortunately it’s not even here yet.  Winter isn't supposed to begin for a month!  Spring is a very, very long time away.

11/20/2014

 





 

Rachel’s Knoll

In our quest to acquire a bit of beauty for ourselves we have a tendency to destroy it.  I am sitting on Rachel’s Knoll in Sedona, Arizona.  A friend told me about it but it is not like she once knew it.  There is such beauty in the ancient red rocks that surround the knoll.  This has been a sacred place for people for a very long time.

Now there is a golf course below and homes all around.  There in even a home on the knoll.  A development company bought up the surrounding land.  For a while they blocked access to the knoll even though they had agreed to keep it open.  It is open again after a successful lawsuit by Rachel’s children.  We had to go through a gate where there is a guard who questioned us about whether we had been to Rachel’s knoll before.  No.  How did we know about it?  This is private property.  We didn't let him discourage us and he let us in.

Two small tours have been up here since we arrived.  The guide now sitting near me appears to be Native American (maybe Hopi from what he said).  According to him the area in front of us is known as Seven Sacred Canyons.  For some reason, he says, the developers chopped off the “sacred” part of the name and call it Seven Canyons.  To me it is obvious.  This area is not sacred to them—they only see money.  The guide is saying that all human life has a link to this place according to the people who have the longest history here.  This means that we are all connected.  When he first walked up he commented that he doesn’t see the golf course anymore.  It will be gone one day when the water dries up.  It will all go back to the way it was.

I hope he is right.  The buildings, the manicured grass, and the noise of the weed whackers are so out of place.  Rachel’s knoll transcends time and it belongs to us all, a sacred spot.

Written on 10/29/2014

Sedona Ramblings

Red rock formations line the horizon

Carved long ago by wind and water

Their names changing over time

Sacred places for ancient people

The air grows still for a moment

Did someone sit here a thousand years ago?

Was she in awe like me?

A woman whose life was tied to the earth

So different from me sitting here

But perhaps more like me than I know

Someone who had a family to feed

Who had people she loved

Did she feel a presence sitting here?

A spirit that moves through all

Connecting earth and all living things

Did she feel it too?

There is a strong link to ancient times

I feel it watching sun on red rocks

A bond with those who walked here before

Perhaps some part of them lingers still

Watching over this sacred piece of earth

That connects past and present

Bringing us closer to God

Written on 10/28/2014

Fall Has Arrived

It’s here.  The calendar told me so . . . but I was in denial.  The warm days encouraged me to push it aside.  Now there’s no denying it.  There’s a chill in the air in the evening and I grab my robe when I get up in the morning.  It’s true.  Fall has arrived.

It’s not that I dislike fall.  It’s just that I have to admit that summer is over and winter is coming.  I do enjoy the early days of fall.  It is beautiful today.  We have a clear blue sky with the temperature hovering around 70 degrees.  I am sitting on my deck enjoying my yard for a while (and trying to ignore the sound of our lawn mower).

The leaves here are just beginning to turn.  As I look around me I see mostly green leaves.  There is a tree across the stream in a neighbor’s yard which has turned to a colorful orange-red.  Near it stands a tree with pale yellow leaves.  In my own yard I see a few bunches of yellow maple leaves in a sea of green—that’s about it.  My vegetable garden is still producing but has slowed down considerably.  I know its days are numbered.

Fall brings out conflicting feelings in me.  It’s a busy time of year.  Activities restart or pick up speed after the relaxed days of summer.  My schedule gets crowded and I am energized.  On the other hand, a beautiful day like today makes me feel lazy.  I want to stay outside in the sun to savor the warmth and the beauty of my yard.  It will be all too soon before I am huddled inside peering through frost-covered windows.  I have things to do inside but perhaps I can linger just a little longer . . . maybe that book I started . . .

10/3/2014

Being Grounded

This morning I got up early and headed out to go door to door for a political campaign.  It was my first time doing this and I was tired when I returned home several hours later.  My week has been filled with evening meetings, errands, phone calls, and time on the computer for a hunger walk, two different interfaith groups, and my church team.  My head is swimming with details not yet organized.

This afternoon I needed to spend some time harvesting vegetables from my garden before watering it.  I wandered in and out of the house, thoroughly enjoying the warm, sunny day.  A squawking great blue heron flew over our stream accompanied by two ducks.  I disturbed a covey of quail on my patio and deck multiple times; they vocalized their distress at my presence and scooted off, their top-notches bobbing.  I pulled a few weeds in the strawberries.  And I found myself smiling.

I am sitting on my deck right now, in between moving the water on my garden.  A squirrel scrambles through the large maple tree above me.  I hear quail and ducks near the stream.  The sky is a beautiful, calm blue.  The air is still.  I catch my breath and I find that I am at peace.  Whenever I get overwhelmed with my busyness, I just need to go out to the garden and reconnect with the natural world.  It grounds me.

9/21/2014

Speaking of Justice

A vast expanse of blue stretches before me –deep blue water, gray-blue mountains, and a pale, blue sky.  I hear the waves hitting the rocks below me.  Two women are deep in conversation two benches down.  My friend sits on the other end of my bench reading her Kindle.  Lake Tahoe is a wonderful location for a conference. 

We have been drawn together by our interest in justice—Methodists mostly from the western part of the United States, clergy and lay people, church leaders.  We have sung songs of justice, prayed, and listened to inspiring speakers.  During workshops we discussed a variety of justice issues, often with passion.

The biggest issue, near to my heart, involves changing our Book of Discipline where it states that “homosexuality is incompatible with Christian teaching.”  (This contradicts a statement elsewhere that says that all people are of sacred worth.)  People have been trying to change this since it was inserted 40 years ago.  Homosexuals are not allowed to be pastors under this rule.  Pastors are not supposed to perform gay unions/weddings and churches are not supposed to host them.  The chief supporters of these rules come from the United Methodist Central Conference (Africa) and the southern part of the United States.  Pastors have broken the rules and performed same sex unions; some have lost their credentials.  In some conferences there are openly gay pastors.  More and more churches are joining the Reconciling Ministries Network which actively opposes these rules.  Member churches have inclusive welcoming statements indicating they welcome everybody.

There are other issues on which we would like our church to take a clear stand.  These include the plight of the Palestinians, economic inequality, immigration (especially the children coming over our border), women’s rights, racial inequality, and the environment.  Someone stated that we need to focus the church back on the teachings of Jesus and the principles of John Wesley, our founder, instead of on sin and salvation.

The work of justice is not easy.  We talked about what we want to take to our General Conference in 2016.  One of our speakers was from Zimbabwe.  He told us how Africans focus on community and connection.  We need each other.  We were reminded that we can’t look at one another as other and attach labels.  We need to talk to and respect each other.  In later discussions I think we all agreed that we just don’t know how to do it.  We could not come to complete agreement on where our justice movement should go next.

Sitting here I feel a calmness brought on by the sun and the beauty of the lake.  At the same time the crashing of the waves makes me feel a certain urgency.  Some people will remind us that justice takes time—and history does tell us that.  At the same time there are those who have been waiting a long time, too long, sometimes a lifetime for justice.  How long must they wait?  Now would be a good time for them.  When will there be a time when we have justice for all on this earth?  I think that will be when we truly and fully live in the Kingdom of God.

Written on 8/31/2014

A Day to Explore

This morning we awoke to the sound of a generator in the campground.  Once it finally shut off we were just barely able to hear the river over the noise from the large group of Boy Scouts that moved in late last night.  So much for our peaceful campsite.  We realized our plan to leave the campground and go exploring in our car was a good one.  However, one set of neighbors took off in their large ATV and the trailer couple took off in their truck.  The Boy Scouts packed up their gear and hiked off with a couple of pack horses.  We were alone again. 

We didn’t hang around for long—but I did finish my book.  We took our little SUV up a long dirt road to the Carey Dome Lookout.  The tower stands 85 feet tall and is the only metal tower still in use in the Payette National Forest.  Bob said that we might be invited to climb up the tower so I was gazing up at the series of stairs with very narrow railings, wondering if I had the courage to climb up there.  The lookout walked out of the nearby cabin to say hello and said that he had come down for lunch.  He would have invited us up but there was a storm moving by and he couldn't due to lightning concerns.  Phew.  He told us that the tower actually acts as a lightning rod and the current runs through the ground from each of the four corners.  You don’t want to be standing there.  During a storm he sits in the tower on a stool with glass insulators on the bottom to protect him.  Wow.  That would be an experience.  Bob chatted with him for a bit while I petted his very friendly dog and looked at the view.  Unfortunately there was a smoky haze today and the mountains in the distance were barely visible.

We headed back down the mountain looking for the trail to Marshall Lake that the lookout had told us about.  We couldn't find it so instead we drove up Marshall Mountain.  It got very steep and rocky the last one-half to three-quarters of a mile so we parked the car, ate some lunch in a lovely meadow, and then hiked up the rest of the way. The wildflowers were beautiful, surprising for August, but we were over 6,000 feet.  I stopped to take photos.  I spotted some hawks flying around and managed to snap a photo of one perching in a tree using my zoom.  I frightened it when I tried to get closer.  To get to the top of the mountain we had to go cross-country.  Bob found a federal government geodetic benchmark which told us that we had found the high point.

While heading back down the mountain in our car we came across a couple who was also looking for the trail to Marshall Lake.  We wished them luck and moved on.  Once we turned back onto the lookout road and drove a ways, we saw the trail we’d been looking for!  Bad directions, I guess.  It was getting late and we had other plans.

Further down the road we turned into Burgdorf Hot Springs.  We hadn't been there for years.  These hot springs were used in the 1860s by miners.  It is now privately owned.  Driving in we noticed that some of the very old cabins have been fixed up and are now rented.  There are others that are falling down.  Burgdorf is a very rustic resort.  When we paid our $14 for two, the woman proudly told us that they have new outhouses.  The pool has gravel on the bottom and the cooler end is about 100 degrees Fahrenheit.  The hot end has pools that are 110 and 120 degrees—too hot for me. 

The hot water was very relaxing at the end of the day.  At first we had the pool mostly to ourselves but then some older people from an ATV group came in; they were quite friendly.  The air was cool and there was a nice breeze.  We found half in and half out of the water worked best.  When we began turning into prunes we changed out of our suits and drove back to camp.

We discovered that the campground had filled up while we were gone.  Despite the number of people it’s been fairly quiet tonight.  As the sun was setting I heard the sandhill cranes again—but they sounded different.  I got out of my chair by the fire and saw a pair flying over the river vocalizing.  I’m not sure where they went.  Right now we’re sitting by the campfire listening to the river and waiting for the fire to burn down.  Once the coals are perfect we will roast marshmallows and make s’mores—possibly the last ones of the summer.  Tomorrow we head home.

Written on 8/8/2014

Out in the Woods Again

Once again I am sitting out in the woods next to a river writing in my journal.  I have been busy and this camping trip did not get much planning which probably indicates how much I needed to get away.  The day before we left we were cleaning our deck and patio plus the house for a neighborhood gathering that evening.  After everyone left we talked about the weather and which direction we should head—that’s it.  The next morning I started pulling out the camping equipment but had to take a break for a doctor’s appointment.  I also took time to pick and freeze blackberries so I wouldn’t lose them.  We managed to leave the house mid-afternoon.

For those who know Idaho, we drove from Boise to McCall then ultimately ended up about 40+ miles up Warren Wagon Road in the Chinook Campground.  Amazingly we were the only people here so we got the best spot overlooking the Secesh River.  It was so peaceful.  Just about the only sound we heard was the river.  As the sun was setting I was surprised and delighted to hear the whooping of sandhill cranes.

We heard the cranes again as the sun rose and we lay in our sleeping bags.  It was a bit chilly when we got up but hot coffee and French toast alleviated that.  Soon the sun was warming our campsite.  We relaxed—I read and Bob napped in his hammock.  Soon a truck with a trailer pulled in—we had neighbors.  They left for a while then came back and we heard the sound of a chain saw.  It woke Bob up from his nap.  It seems that many people come in with chain saws these days—with no thought or consideration for their neighbors.  It’s now evening and a camper drove in with a trailer containing an ATV.  We’re waiting to see how noisy they’ll be.  It’s quiet right now.

About mid-afternoon we decided we needed some exercise so we headed out on the trail to Loon Lake along the Secesh River.  We hiked here 18 years ago when we took a weekend backpack trip with our girls and camped at Loon Lake.  It’s about a 10-mile round trip and we had no intention of going that far today.  We simply strolled along the trail, stopping in the shade for a water break, taking photos, inspecting the flowers, and taking in the scenery.

There was a huge fire in this area about 15 years ago and on the first part of our hike we were surrounded by dead, blackened trees and lots of colorful purple fireweed.  As we moved along the river narrowed as we came into a canyon.  The river ran more quickly over the rocks and there were stands of green trees and a wider variety of vegetation.  At one point we startled a young deer on the path.  I tried to get my camera out but the deer was frightened and ran away.  We passed just five people—two on foot and three on mountain bikes, all returning from Loon Lake, I think.  We walked for a couple hours then decided it was time to turn back.  It’s always interesting to see what you missed going the opposite direction.  On the other side of the river we saw what looked like a terrace of bright yellow flowers apparently thriving in a damp location.  We noticed fascinating rock formations carved out by the fast-moving river.  Once back at our camp we looked at the topo map while sipping cold soft drinks.  We were surprised to learn that we had hiked about 5 miles total.  Perhaps that’s enough exercise to rationalize eating a couple of s’mores tonight.

Written on 8/7/2014