Freedom

A virus stopped us

We wear masks, shelter in place

High risk keeps us home

I long for freedom

To go places with people

Zoom meetings suffice

But I can stay home

And I can do what I want

I do have freedom

I am unscheduled

I garden, read, and create

I can send love too

Can We Change Now?

This evening I walked into the house and plopped down on the couch to take a short break from weeding.  I stayed there for a while.  My husband was watching PBS News Hour and they were showing all the places in the country where people are protesting and rioting following the murder of George Floyd by police in Minneapolis.  But it’s about a lot more than that.

Watching all the videos of the violence brought me back to the riots of 1968.  I remember the day that Martin Luther King, Jr. was shot.  Kids set fires in the garbage cans at our junior high school; they sent us all home.  I couldn’t understand why people would use violence in response to the assassination of a non-violent man.  I am so much older now and my understanding has changed.

After all these years, what has changed in our country?  We had riots 50+ years ago but what have we learned?  Like many other people, of all races, I was horrified when I saw the video clip of the white police officer kneeling on George Floyd’s neck.  Why?  Why would someone do this?  So they fired the four officers who were present.  Okay good.  But why weren’t they arrested?  This was clearly murder.  The officer who kneeled on him has been arrested finally but what about the others?  And it was only a few months ago that another black man, Ahmaud Arbery, was murdered while jogging by two white men.

As a white woman, I know I am privileged.  I am shocked and disgusted by these events.  I am learning that people of color react somewhat differently.  This is one more violent act perpetrated on their people; it’s been happening their entire lives.  They are angry.  I can empathize but I can’t truly understand what it is like for them to live in a white dominated system that works against them.  Black parents tell their kids how to behave around white people, especially cops.  One wrong step and they may never come home again.  Activities I take for granted, that I don’t even think about, can be risky if you have dark skin.  I can’t imagine what it is like to live like that.

Multiple cities have had peaceful protests that have erupted into riots with fires, looting, and destruction.  For some, this is pent up anger and this is the only way they have left to get attention.  Peaceful methods have failed.  To make matters worse, infiltrators have been traveling from other states to instigate violence.  There are some reports that they are far right groups, white supremacists, intent on creating chaos and breaking down civil society.

As a non-violent person, I am distressed to see this violence.  I feel for the small businesses who have just barely reopened during this pandemic and now their businesses are gone.  On the other hand, I feel for people who are so oppressed that they feel they have no other option than violence to show how they feel and to demand change.

How do we change this now?  How can we be successful when we have failed so miserably in the past?  How do we end racism?  Can we change hearts and minds?  What do we do?

As a progressive who lives in a very white and conservative state, I struggle with this.  First, we need new leadership in this country.  We need to change systems in this country and it should begin with the President and Congress.  However, it seems that much of what needs to be done is at a local level.  Police departments need to be reorganized and officers should be vetted more carefully.  We need to talk to each other.  We need to listen to each other.  When I have worked on other justice issues, I have learned to sit and listen because I really don’t know what it’s like to walk in the other’s shoes.  We can’t support people and make changes unless we understand what they need from us.

When President Obama was elected, many of us thought we had turned a corner—but it just brought out the racists.  And now President Trump is fanning the flames of hatred.  I pray that we Americans will have the courage and wisdom it takes to turn our country around now, before it’s too late.

In Limbo

It’s been a little over one month since I wrote about the pandemic.  Not much has changed. . . except that I can now order toilet paper online.  My husband and I are still mostly at home.

The country is starting to open back up although the number of new cases of coronavirus continues to increase and the death toll in the United States has passed 100,000.  In Idaho, one week ago, there were 98 new cases in just one day, a big jump.  However, that was apparently mostly in one area.  Idaho has just entered Stage 3 reopening which means nearly everything is allowed to reopen.  Churches were allowed to open in Stage 1 but it appears that not many have done so.  My church is doing prerecorded services online, as have many others.  Our bishop said that we cannot open until at least June 15.  It will probably be later than that. 

Although masks and social distancing are still recommended, many people are ignoring that and acting as if the pandemic is over.  Others, like us, are avoiding people and ordering online.  There are Zoom meetings for everything but I miss seeing people in person.  On the other hand, I am enjoying staying at home.  We have an acre so there is plenty to do.  My yard should look fantastic by the end of the season.  We have had some beautiful weather so simply sitting on the deck has been delightful.

Perhaps the most difficult thing about living in these times is that we can’t really plan ahead.  It may be another year before we have a vaccine.  This virus will be with us for a while so we will have to learn to live with it.  We will need to continue social distancing and large gatherings will be difficult.  This means that people are delaying decisions on all kinds of things.  We are living in limbo.

Waiting for Justice in Our Church

I was supposed to be in Minneapolis right now.  My pastor and I were scheduled to fly out yesterday for the 2020 General Conference of the United Methodist Church, a gathering of people from all over the world.  This was the conference that was supposed to decide the future of our global church.  Would we split or figure out how to stay together?  And now we must wait until 2021.

I had attended General Conference in 2016 as a volunteer for the Love Your Neighbor Coalition, a protester standing up for equality for LGBTQ people in our church.  (I blogged about it.)  I have been watching our church politics closely ever since then.  When my pastor asked me to go with her, I jumped at the chance.  She signed up as a conference volunteer, as clergy in the prayer room and as a greeter.  I was hoping to balance my time between serving as a conference volunteer and a volunteer with Love Your Neighbor Coalition.  Before I could sign up, the coronavirus made its appearance.

After experiencing the divisive and emotionally difficult General Conference in 2016, I knew that this conference would not be easy.  Four years ago I had been in community with people who were directly affected by the church’s injustice.  We sang together and lifted each other up.  I had hoped that delegates could find a just solution this time.  Now we wait some more.

Tonight the Reconciling Ministries Network hosted a virtual worship service, “Be Still and Know,” celebrating the strength of the reconciling movement and offering hope and healing.  Clergy participants spoke from their homes from all around the United States and even in Kenya.  The music was from a gathering that occurred 9 weeks ago, before social distancing was necessary.  We sang a lot of the same music during GC 2016 and it brought back memories of what it felt like to be in that community.  I sang along to a couple songs and choked back tears.  Four years have passed and we haven’t made the progress we had hoped for.  The service ended on a positive note.  During the final song, there were photos of the 323 congregations and communities who joined the reconciling movement since the hateful special General Conference 2019.  That gives me hope. 

The world waits for this pandemic to end.  And so the church waits too.  Waiting is hard, especially when there is no equality for LGBTQ people during the waiting.  “Be still and know that I am God.”  What does God want us to do?  I truly believe in an inclusive God, a God who loves all God’s children.  That God is the one Jesus showed to us.  What can we learn during this time of waiting?  Is it possible to end the harm and keep the church together?  Can we be an inclusive and loving church?  I’m waiting. . . but I hope it is not too much longer.

In Search of TP

When the coronavirus first made its appearance in the United States, I was amazed that the toilet paper began disappearing off the shelves.  Why were people hoarding tp?  Stores began limiting how much an individual could buy but the shelves were still emptying.  I wasn’t worried because we had a huge package of double rolls.  Surely it would last until the supply was back to normal.  I would check the shelves each time I was in the grocery store—still no tp.  Once everything started shutting down, my husband and I made the decision not to enter a store of any kind because we are both high risk.

It’s been a couple of months since toilet paper became scarce and still it is hard to get.  Where is it?  We have a factory that manufactures toilet paper in our state yet we still have empty shelves.  We have been ordering groceries online for weeks.  We can order everything but toilet paper.  Either you can’t order it at all or you order it but it is not in your order when you pick it up.

Earlier this week we were down to our last two rolls.  We placed an order with a grocery store around 4 p.m. with pickup at 9:00 the next morning (a designated senior pickup time).  I ordered tp and then added additional items just so I could make the minimum amount.  When my husband went to pick up the order there was no tp.  What do we do?

I consider myself an independent person, accustomed to taking care of myself.  And we couldn’t get something as basic as tp.  I had been asking people for tips about getting toilet paper but everybody was going into a store to buy it.  So I posted in a COVID-19 mutual aid Facebook group for my county and asked if anyone knew how to order tp for pickup.  Immediately, two women offered to buy it for me.  (Others made suggestions that I had already tried.)  I contacted the first woman for help.  By the end of the day there was a large package of tp on my front porch.  She wouldn’t accept any payment for it.  In addition, she said to let her know if we need anything else.  While we have seen some selfish behavior lately, I am totally amazed at the people who are going out of their way to help others.  I wish I could do this too, but I can’t.  I am not used to being the recipient of such kindness from a stranger.  I am so grateful.  (And I continue to get offers for toilet paper.)

Found Poetry

It's poetry month and a friend posted a fun exercise using "found" poetry. I went through catalogs, magazines, and ads and cut out words and phrases that struck me. I assembled them into the poems you see below.  Try it yourself!

Easter Lament

Yesterday was Easter.

But where was the resurrection?

I couldn’t find the joy.

The churches were all closed

While members isolate at home

Trying to avoid the virus among us.

Service were held online

But many churches struggle with it.

I found some lovely Easter music

But it was hard to feel connected.

Outside the sun was shining

But a cold wind was blowing.

The news is all coronavirus

And it gets bleaker every day.

Easter and spring are a time of rebirth.

The flowers are beginning to bloom.

But where is the hope?

I realize that we have to wait.

We are not good at waiting.

I am not good at waiting.

I struggle to keep emotions in check

But I cannot do it.

I realize that this is okay.

We will not be the same after this.

What am I learning?

How can I help?

God is with us now

And we will find joy again.

Our New Reality

It’s been nearly a month since our lives were upended by the coronavirus.  Usually, we only leave our house to go on errands that don’t require us to get out of the car or to go on walks or bike rides. 

We are learning to get what we need by doing pickups and deliveries.  Grocery pickups take a bit of planning and we are still trying to figure it out.  Neither my husband nor I have stepped into a store for weeks.  Too risky!  Grocery orders with one store are a week out and you can’t order farther out than that.  However, you can add to your order up to the night before pickup.  A second store has more pickup availability but we didn’t get bread in our last order.  You can’t just order a few things either.  It looks like we’ll go without some items.  I needed refills for some of my medications but my pharmacy doesn’t have a drive-up window.  After several phone calls, they told me I’d receive the medications via Fed-Ex; they arrived today.  This was the first time they’d done this so they weren’t sure how well it would work.

Amazon will not deliver everything in two days right now; there are other priorities.  However, they did deliver birthday gifts to my mom for her 90^th birthday!  We also received a backup drive and ink for our computer and printer.  We have ordered take-out meals a couple of times and will continue to do it.  It is a good way to support local restaurants plus it adds something special to our days which are so much the same.

It seems like everyone is using Zoom right now.  I had used it before for meetings with various groups but now it’s a regular thing.  Our church used it the past two Sundays for worship services with limited success.  This was frustrating but there are limitations to the technology plus our church needs some technological upgrades.  Our church also began Zoom gatherings with the pastor on Tuesdays just to check in with each other.  This has been great.  It is so good to see faces.  A few days ago there was a meeting with zoo staff and volunteers.  We learned what is happening at the zoo and with each other.  In a couple days my tap class will try doing a class via Zoom.  That should be interesting.

I thought that I would have a really clean and organized house at this point but that just hasn’t happened.  I have learned that I am not alone.  We get up late and move slowly.  There just isn’t a lot of motivation.  However, the weather is just starting to get warmer here in Idaho (71 degrees F today).  The sun is out so I am eager to get out and work in the yard.  With an acre there is a lot of cleaning up to do.  It still freezes at night so we can’t plant much right now.

While my life is limited, I have added some things.  I am spending more time sitting quietly—reading, writing, and sometimes doing something artistic.  I have talked on the phone more often to family and friends.  I ordered stamps online so I can send out more notes and cards.

I think we will be stuck at home at least another month so I am trying to make the best of it.  I know that I am privileged to be able to do this.  I am grateful for all the people who go to work every day to serve us.  Our world will not be the same when this pandemic is past.  I hope it will change for the better.

Idaho Earthquake Haiku

The shaking began

And we watched our lamps swaying

Wow, it’s an earthquake!

As we shook I thought

A pandemic’s not enough?

Will locusts come too?

Our governor just signed

Two anti-transgender bills

Is this what God thinks?

I Am Strong But. . .

I am strong

But not so much today

I grieve and I cry

For my pain and others’

There is no control

But love still exists

God is in our tears

It’s the Small Things

My parents’ lives have become quite limited.  My 92-year-old dad can no longer stand or walk.  He gets around the house in a wheelchair, but he is unable to transfer into a car.  To go anywhere he must have a van driver take him.  So, for the past year he has mostly been at home.  My dad enjoys looking out the window and watching the deer and turkeys in their yard.  My mom will be 90 in a few days.  She cares for him with the help of several aides and other medical people who come to the house.  She doesn’t get out much either.

Recently, she described their early morning ritual.  My dad sleeps in a hospital bed in the guest room and my mom sleeps in their bedroom at the other end of the house.  I bought them an intercom so they could communicate more easily.  My mom told me that she gets up around 7:30 a.m. and carries the intercom into the bathroom with her.  Before long she hears my dad’s voice over the intercom. “Honey, it’s 8:00 o’clock.”  She tells him she’s coming soon.  Sometimes they joke.  She laughs when she tells me this; she enjoys these conversations.  It will be sad, she says, when one of them is gone.

Now that I too am stuck at home, I am beginning to notice the little things in my life that make me smile.

We are not in a hurry in the morning so I have time to snuggle with my husband in bed.  After nearly 40 years of marriage, I realize that I tend to take some things for granted.

Our cats are endlessly entertaining.  Our Siamese mix is very affectionate but she doesn’t like me to pick her up; she wants to be in control.  She will sit and just stare at me with her bright blue eyes, watching my every move.  Our black cat is an explorer who thoroughly investigates the yard and our indoor cupboards.  When she wants attention, she stands in front of my computer monitor, blocking my view, and then flops down on the desk, expecting me to pet her.

We have been taking lots of walks along the river with our dog.  She gets so excited, especially when she sees other dogs; sometimes she actually gets to sniff them.  When she spots a squirrel she goes on high alert, eager to chase it.  As she walks along she periodically turns around to look at us with a big dog smile.

The arrival of spring has brought new delights.  The trees are just beginning to bud out.  The early spring flowers brighten an otherwise dead landscape.  The sunshine is welcome as it warms my stiff body and shines off the water and through the tree blossoms.  This morning as I was finishing my breakfast, I heard the calls of chickadees.  I looked out our sliding glass door and spotted a chickadee on our birdhouse.  He looked inside and then just sat there for a while.  I could hear another chickadee calling.  A while after he left, another one landed on the house.  I think they are house hunting!  I hope they settle in soon.

Often it is the small things in our lives that keep us going.  We just need to take the time to appreciate them. 

Darkness

                                       

                                          An icy wind blows

                                          The sun shines yet it is dark

                                          Learn to live with it

                                          I want to find joy

                                          But must sit in the darkness

                                          My God dwells there too

Sitting in the Stillness

I am not accustomed to staying at home; people describe me as busy.  Now there is nowhere to go.  Aside from a daily walk, weather permitting, we are mostly at home.

We turn on the radio when we wake up in the morning and listen to the news.  It is all about the coronavirus.  While this important, after a while it is too much and we turn it off.  It is quiet.

I am learning to appreciate the stillness of the morning.  I look out the window onto our street and there is no activity except for an occasional walker.  My husband is in another room.  I am alone with my thoughts.

Slowly I am beginning to adjust to this lack of activity, this stillness.  What can I learn from it?  I see an opportunity for growth.  Nothing is pulling me out of my seat, urging me to get going.  I can just sit without guilt—thinking, contemplating, praying.

During my devotional time I read and I pray.  I pour out my concerns and then move to silence, listening.  In that space I try to be open to God.  I don’t believe that God will magically fix everything for us.  I look for connection—for comfort, wisdom, and courage.  I am aware of my oneness with people all over the world.  We struggle together in this pandemic.  Today I think about all of the people packed together in refugee camps and the tears come.

As I look out my window, the sun peeks out through the clouds.  I will sit in stillness a bit longer, and then perhaps I’ll put on some music, another gift.

One Step at a Time

Just ten days ago my life was normal.  My calendar was full of activities.  We were aware of the advance of the coronavirus but it had not affected us here in Idaho.  And then our first case of the virus was confirmed.  After a few days, events and activities started canceling.  Some facilities, such as gyms, shuttered their doors.  My calendar is covered with Wite-Out; it is essentially blank.  Every day something else is closed and there are new warnings.

My husband and I are both retired but I am an active person, not used to staying home.  But that is what we are doing.  We are considered to be in the high risk category because of our ages and my health concerns.  We haven’t gone to the store for a few days; we are contemplating ordering groceries online and doing takeout.  Each day we have gone out for walks but we keep our distance from other people.  It is a strange reality.

I know we are privileged people in the midst of this pandemic.  We have an income and a home with a yard.  We are not lacking for any material thing.  Our daughters and spouses can work from home and are comfortable.  I am aware that many others throughout the world are not so lucky.

It is disconcerting to have our world turned upside down in such a short period of time.  We are uncertain about what each day will bring.  The news is all about the coronavirus.  We can’t escape it.  How long will this last?  We can’t make plans.

Perhaps the hardest part is the physical separation from other people.  We have rapidly gone from social distancing to near total isolation from other people.  Today is Sunday and many of us are missing our church services.  Some of them have gone online but it isn’t the same.  We miss the human contact.

How do we live in these difficult times?  I have close family members facing medical issues, anxiety, and other problems.  Life is overwhelming.  Our circumstances can change from day to day.  I tell them to take one step at a time.  It’s all we can do.  We can’t plan ahead.

I am trying to take my own advice.  As always I make a daily list but now I focus on self-care, home projects, connecting with community online, and calling people who need attention.  What can I do to be helpful from home?  It’s a learning process.  This is our new reality.

One step at a time.

Can I Still Dream?

Yesterday the clouds hung low and it rained steadily most of the day.  It was damp and dreary.  My arthritic body hurt all over.  My black cat crawled under the quilt on our bed and remained there for hours.  I wanted to crawl in with her.  I think the weather reflected the mood in our country, mine included.

Last week during our Bible study where we discuss the topic for the upcoming Sunday, our pastor asked us what our dreams are.  When she got to me, I was stumped.  I had nothing.  The pastor was surprised.  “What about Add the Words?”  I am one of many people who have worked for years for equality for LGBTQ people in our state.  This year I am once again organizing prayer vigils in front of the Capitol.  As I stood there for the first time in 2020 I realized that I was standing there for the seventh year, apparently no closer to the goal.  In fact, we are preparing ourselves for some nasty, punitive anti-trans bills to surface.  I told my pastor it isn’t a dream but I am doing it because it is the right thing to do.

To be honest, I tend to be someone who lives in the present.  I don’t dwell on the past and I don’t look too far into the future.  Dreams?  Oh, I had them when I was young.  Like most girls of my day, I expected to get married and have kids.  And I did.  I also expected to go to college and have a career.  When I was in junior high I heard “you can be anything you want!” but I heard “teacher, nurse, secretary” whispered in the background.  I got my degree and I worked, but I never had the career.

These questions about dreams have made me wonder if I can still dream.  I am an organizer, a planner but do I dream?  I don’t plan anything more than a year out.  I wonder if other people my age have dreams.

I have hopes for my daughters and families but I leave the dreaming for them.  And now I wonder if in the midst of the daily craziness of their lives and the negativity in our country, do they dream?  My hope for them is that they do.

And me?  I don’t know and it makes me sad.  While I usually try to leave my posts on a positive note, I can’t this time.  I will contemplate what it would take for me to start dreaming again. . .

Looking Forward

On this first day of 2020, the first day of a new decade, I look forward with hope in my heart.  Yes, there are many reasons to be discouraged but the human race is resilient, full of creativity, and capable of great love.

What do I hope for this year and beyond?

Ø  Let’s take climate change seriously and take immediate steps to turn this impending disaster around.  This must be a world-wide effort.

Ø  There are so many refugees seeking a safe haven and a better life, not only at our borders, but around the world.  We need compassionate solutions, treating these people as fellow human beings.

Ø  I hope that we can come together as a country.  I want truth and honesty to be valued again.  Let our Constitution be upheld, preserving our republic.  I want new leadership.  I hope that we can learn to respect and be kind to those who are different from us. 

Ø  I hope that my church denomination, the United Methodist Church, will become inclusive, treating all people equally.  If this is not possible, I hope for an amicable split.

Ø  My state’s legislature convenes next week.  I hope for more kindness and understanding from our legislators.  I hope that they will finally “Add the Words” (sexual orientation and gender identity to our human rights act).  I want them to allow women to control their own reproductive systems.  I hope for more money for education.  Let’s get rid of the “faith healing” law that allows parents to ignore medical treatment for children with preventable diseases.  

Ø  Personally, I hope for a lovely wedding for my younger daughter and her fiancé and for a wonderful future together.  I hope for a healthy new grandchild.  I wish for stability and good days for my elderly parents.  For my own life I hope for balance and wisdom.

Finally, I hope that more people will understand that we are all connected and that we must learn to live in harmony with each other and all creation.  I hold hope that love will eventually prevail.

Reflections on New Year’s Eve

In less than 2 hours the new year will arrive.  2020!  Hard to believe.  I am sitting on the couch listening to a concert of Stephen Sondheim music on PBS.  Such wonderful music.

Tonight I posted my Christmas photos on Facebook so my mind is on that time.  We drove to California to spend Christmas with my parents.  Since my dad’s hospital bed is now in the guest room, my husband and I stayed at a nearby Airbnb.  However, we spent most of each day at my parents’ home.

My 92-year-old dad has improved since I last saw him.  An aide (and sometimes my mom) gets him up every day and he makes his way around the house in his wheelchair.  He spends hours looking out the front window and enjoys the visits from deer and numerous turkeys.  Music plays on their old stereo most of the day.  When the mail arrives, my mom hands it and a letter opener to my dad and he opens and sorts it.

My mom has lost a lot of weight and she didn’t sit a lot while we were there.  She doesn’t want to admit that she is nearly 90 and laments what she can’t do.  They have lots of help from the VA and others, including my sisters.  I helped them get started with Meals on Wheels which is a tremendous help.

I forced discussions on the future which my mom doesn’t want to face.  They want to stay in their hope which I totally understand.  They want to be together.  Their family wants them to be safe.  This is so hard, watching parents decline.  My dad wants to walk again and he was getting there, relearning to use his walker with the help of a physical therapist.  But now his leg hurts and he can’t stand up.  He wants to be able to get in a car and go places. 

Clearly my parents are not done with this life.  They are mentally competent and make their own decisions.  One day I was going out shopping with my mom and sister.  I asked my dad if I could get something for him to give mom.  He said yes—a special gift and a card.  I found some lovely earrings.  Later, I gave him a card to sign and let him pick out the gift bag.  He asked how much he owed me.  A couple days later he told me there was an envelope on the table for me—it had the exact amount of cash inside.  My dad nods off a lot, but when he is fully awake, his mind is sharp.

I also bought my mom’s gift for my dad.  Although she still drives, it is hard for her to get out because she can’t leave him alone.  My dad wanted a large clock on the wall near is bed so that is what we bought.

I watched how my mom tenderly cares for my dad, putting his needs first.  He doesn’t take this for granted—he thanks her.  One night we were sitting in the living room.  The aide had put my dad to bed and left.  My mom was in the bedroom saying goodnight.  I heard “I love you” and “I love you too.”  My parents are still teaching me about love.

This is what is on my mind on this last day of the year.  Yes, of course there are other things I could reflect on.  Our country is in turmoil and my international church is about to split.  We are so divided.  I am ready to say goodbye to 2019.  I hope that 2020 is a better year for my family, my church, country, and our world.

Thanksgiving Thoughts

I have posted very little this year.  Why?  I guess it is because I have been overwhelmed by life and I just couldn’t find the words.  I did try to write a couple times but then I couldn’t share it.

Life can be crazy sometimes and all we can do is cope.  A little over a year ago my son-in-law disappeared for a few days.  When he returned we learned he’d had a mental break.  I flew to North Carolina to be with my daughter and grandson during this storm in their lives—and experienced an actual hurricane while there.  I flew back home while still sick with a 24-hour flu.

We spent Thanksgiving with my aging parents in California then flew to North Carolina to be with our daughters for Christmas.  Prior to leaving home we learned that my husband’s 95-year-old mother had suffered a brain bleed.  We received news of her death just after arriving at our daughter’s house.  A few days after that my mom called say my 91-year-old dad had fallen; we later learned that it was a stroke.  After Christmas our family drove down to Florida for my mother-in-law’s memorial service.

In February we took a family cruise so we stayed at my mother-in-law’s house before and after the trip.  The house seemed so empty without her there.  My husband stayed afterwards to help his sister clean out the house.  I flew home and a few days later I was diagnosed with pneumonia.  It hit me hard and it took a long time to recover.  In fact, the cough has lingered and I’ve learned I have mild lung damage.

In March my husband and I drove down to California to see my parents.  My 89-year-old mom was struggling to care for my dad who at this point was in a hospital bed at home.  My mom was having trouble getting help and was exhausted.  I spent the week cooking meals and stocking their freezer.  I returned home emotionally and physically exhausted.  In April our family traveled to Alexandria, Virginia, for my mother-in-law’s interment service.  She was buried next to her husband in a beautiful cemetery full of spring blossoms. 

Through all this I have continued to coordinate two interfaith groups, a committee at church, and more.  I am always busy. . . and often tired.

Today is Thanksgiving.  On Sunday our pastor spoke about whining.  She reminded us that the lamentations in Psalms always end in praise.  She handed out bracelets as a reminder that when we whine we need to think about what we are grateful for in our lives.  I am wearing one of those bracelets.

I am pondering all of this.  We were never promised a trouble-free life.  What we were promised is love; God is always present.  This I know and that is truly a blessing.

My daughter and her husband are back together and he is getting counseling.  We all miss my mother-in-law but we know that she lived a good, long life and was satisfied with that.  I would say that she was grateful.  My parents are doing okay.  They are finally getting help from the VA and from other sources.  I am grateful. 

Me?  I am dealing with my various medical issues and I know that I am doing much better than others my age.  I have learned a lot about myself this past year.  I am grateful.

I am thankful for all the wonderful people in my life—family and friends, church people, interfaith connections, community activists, and more.  God is in the connections with all these people.  What is my role?  I am learning that there is only so much that we can actually do when someone else is hurting.  I think I am learning the importance of simply being present.  To listen.  To connect.  And to always share the love that is God.

Tall grass sways with wind

The river flows swiftly by

God is within all

Time to Take Down the Christmas Tree

I am sitting and enjoying the quiet of my bedroom.  It is the twelfth day of Christmas and our house is still decorated.  Tomorrow is Epiphany but I am reluctant to take the decorations down.  When I look at them they bring me peace, a peace I desperately need right now.

We flew home on New Year’s Day after spending the holidays with family.  I traveled with the beginning of a cold, a gift from my daughter.  I cancelled the few things I had scheduled and stayed home the past four days.  I lost my voice and couldn’t talk at all for a couple days.  I think that contributed to me pulling inward, reflecting, and also mourning.

Just after we arrived in North Carolina we got word that my 95-year-old mother-in-law had died from the stroke she had suffered the week before.  We had all thought that this amazing woman might make it to 100.  The day after her stroke she rallied, sat up, ate lunch, and talked to people.  However, the next day she was unconscious and her daughter took her home to die in familiar surroundings.  Eight of us drove down to Florida for the service, to celebrate a life well-lived.  She leaves a hole that cannot be filled; we have to learn to walk around it.  It is filled with sweet memories.

My own parents are struggling after my dad suffered some sort of stroke.  They live alone in their own home but clearly my dad cannot stay there.  My sisters are dealing with this, far away from me.  It’s hard.

It is easy to be melancholy with all the sadness.  It is dark and cold outside.  I am lacking energy because I am sick.  I turn on the news and I only feel worse—the government is shut down, the stock market has plummeted, and our president keeps twittering lies and absurdities.  Our bank account is down to almost nothing.  Our very conservative Idaho Legislature is returning next week.  What will they inflict on us or refuse to do next?  I could go on but it is depressing.  I think I need my Christmas decorations.

Yet through all of the sadness I still have hope.  I know God is with me and with all of us.  I feel it. .. and I see it.  Where?

I experienced hope as I spent time with my young grandson.  He is a bright spot in the lives of everyone around him, even during his meltdowns.  My favorite time was when we made cookies together, at his request.  At age 3, he is so open and full of questions.  He knows his mimi is in heaven with their dog, Bridgett.  Is that in Texas?  His parents, my daughter and son-in-law had a rough few months and were separated for a while.  They are back together and trying to make it work.  It won’t be easy, but I have hope as I watch them.  My younger daughter is in a slowly budding relationship.  Will they marry?  I don’t know, but I see the tender way they interact and it brings me joy.  The time we spent together as family, celebrating the holidays and in mourning, was precious.

I sat in frustration this morning thinking about politics, both local and national, and the organizing I need to do.  In my devotion time I was reminded about Jesus, the rebel who stood up for justice for the poor and oppressed.  I have a good example.  Certainly I can rally myself and others to work for change here.  Maybe we can even Add the Words (sexual orientation and gender identity to the Idaho Human Rights Act).  On Thursday we got a new Congress; the House is the most diverse it has ever been with more minorities and 89 women!  This gives me hope.

So tomorrow I’ll take down those Christmas decorations and prepare for the week ahead.  I’ll call my parents and my daughters.  And then I’ll start organizing to help make my part of the world a bit better.  I have hope.