Mom's Cookies

We are a cookie eating

And more importantly a cookie BAKING family

I’ve tried them all ! And I’ve made quite a few.

But, you can keep

    your Peanut butter cookies

    your oatmeal raisin cookies

    your ginger snaps

I’ll take one of mom’s batch of

    Aunt Isabell’s chocolate cookies with chocolate frosting … straight from the freezer

The recipe is there.

    The instructions are written out

         (In at least three places just in my house)

BUT EACH OF US ADD OUR OWN TOUCH

    I still can’t figure out how she frosted them that fast.

Because of my mom

    I can read any recipe, and write some of my own

    I can cook a decent to excellent meal on a range, in the oven, in the crock pot, or over a camp fire.

Because of mom I know that there are recipes for eating well, and for living well

Recipes and patterns written down for us by people with a     deep relationship with God.

That there isn't a different recipe or different rules for different kinds of folks. We are all children of God.

Each of us takes that recipe and makes it our own.

Hoarders and Church Life

There is a show on TV called Hoarders, while I have not watched it ... from the description it seems that there is a segment of society that feels that if must keep and never discard the totality of every artifact that comes into their possession. Even things that other segments of society might find disgusting or in need of being TRASHED.

The great need for these individuals and families is for an honest evaluation of the value of the items being kept, and then purging the debris from their lives.

WE IN THE CHURCH need to go through a course on hoarders. We are a family addicted not necessarily to the keeping of STUFF, though that is sadly a problem in places where the “memorial” fund is the most profitable account in the church, but to the keeping of traditions and teachings that are long overdue for an evaluation of their true worth.

How will we measure their worth?

In secular society, value can be compared by reference books on collecting and collected estimates of value from knowledgeable people.

The Methodist/Wesleyian tradition holds that we must compare all things in Tradition, Personal Experience, and our own Reasonings to the teachings found in Scripture. I also presume that we as Christians must take the teachings of Christ as holding more priority than the teachings of any other in Scriptural Canon.

WHAT ITEMS SHOULD BE UP FOR RE-EVALUATION??

Strange Blood

    I was invited to take communion out to a Bible study class at the Woodward Academy. The Woodward Academy is a boot-camp program for male youth offenders. As a set up for explaining communion I told them a story from being in seminary.

    I had gone to chapel one noon when communion was being served. Due to where I was sitting I was one of the first to come forward.  I took my bread, dipped in the cup. As I brought the combination to my mouth, I held my other hand under it to catch any drips. As it happened that day I dripped A LOT. As I returned to my seat I thought about this pool of juice in my hand. As I saw it at the time I had few choices, about what I could do. I could not get up and go to the bathroom and wash; that would disturb the people that were still in line as I cut through it. I couldn’t slurp it from my hand; that would disturb the people around me, and would just be rude. I couldn’t wipe it on my pants or shirt; my pants were khaki, my shirt was white, and I did not want to stain either of them. I could not wait too long to decide; the gospel choir was going to sing the closing hymn and I knew that I would accidentally clap along, thus getting the grape juice all over me. WHAT TO DO?

    I wound up deciding to visit the bathroom after worship and treat the juice much as you would hand lotion rubbing it all over my hands. So with a thin layer of grape juice on my hands and the juice no longer a threat to my clothing or a potential disturbance to my neighbors I could wait.

    Then a small part of my brain that makes connections out of seemingly unrelated things spoke. “You do realize that you now have the blood of Christ on your hands.”

    I asked this group of young offenders if they had ever had blood on their hands or if someone close to them ever had. I then told them that the blood of Christ is strange blood. All other blood is sticky and makes us feel dirty, it gets into our clothes and creates stains that don’t come out. Jesus blood, when it gets on us and in us, does the exact opposite.

Jesus blood stains us clean.

    I also told them the story that when Pilate declared that He was not going to be responsible for Jesus death, the crowd took the responsibility on themselves. They did so with the declaration, “His blood be on us and on our children.” This phrase should have brought a curse on them for condemning an innocent man. But like I said, Jesus blood is strange blood.

Jesus blood can take a curse and turn it into a blessing.

    After that story and explanation I went through a short “Great Thanksgiving” then served communion to them. I watched as many deliberately took too much juice in their bread, just to have it on their hands, and watch other dip a finger in the juice and mark themselves on their foreheads much like we would with ashes on Ash Wednesday. I was also struck with the thought that these young men were probably closer to those that Jesus spoke to than many that I saw weekly in worship.

Stranger and Stranger

Matthew 25 ...I was a stranger and you welcomed me...

     It is easier to welcome the stranger that we don't know, than to welcome the stranger that we THINK we know. There are people around us that we assume we know. People that we may have been acquainted with for years. But they are always at some level strangers to us. And it doesn't take much to make someone you know into a stranger either. An illness, a collision, grief can cause our lives to diverge enough from one another that we become strangers again.

     We are all strange to each other by our looks, our dress, our habits, our actions, and most important our internal personal world made up of our experiences and dream/hopes.

     Do not be seduced by stereotypes, or tied down to traditional hatreds. Do not allow your first impression to become your only impression.

We are all strangers in varying degrees. We are all bearers of the spark of divine creation. We are all deserving of being welcomed.

YOU ARE WELL COME TO THE LOVE OF GOD

VARIATIONS ON “THE ROAD NOT TAKEN.”

“Two roads diverged in a wood … and I took the one less traveled by.”

Two roads diverged in a wood, and I took neither

  for no path will take me where I want to go

Two roads diverged in a wood, and I took neither

  for I sat and meditated upon the choice and rose beyond it

Two roads diverged in a wood, and I took neither

  for the choice scared me and I returned the way I came

Two roads diverged in a wood, and either one will do

  For it is the walking that matters.

Two roads diverged in a wood…

  A choice, My choice to make

You can’t not choose.

emptiness AND fullness

the blank page haunts me

its very whiteness longing to be filled

how then should i fill it

when so often it would only be filled with my own emptiness

but in the exchange of empty for empty

i find myself fulfilled and seeking to fill another page

emptiness on emptiness

                    ACTION

fullness on fullness

my emptiness makes me dread its emptiness

its fullness makes me realize my fullness

God is a Gardener

So much of the time we hear of God as a warrior, a protector, a guardian. But are there any other “job descriptions” that God has? I went looking for one, because I felt there had to be another way. I went looking for God not for war but for peace. I went looking for God not as one more voice for violence but for peace.

I found one, and it is an amazingly large one. God is a Gardener.

God will till, plow, plant, water, weed, prune, harvest, feed the people, and give us a dream for what is yet to come.

It then falls to us to follow God’s lead. Planting, watering, pruning, harvesting, sharing, and dreaming.

Let us grow not just plants but souls. Not just our own spirits but the spirits of those around us. Helping each other to grow deeper in God. Supporting each other in times of storm and drought. Stripping away the things that separate us from God’s love. Creating a harvest of joy and peace. Always remembering to continue to dream, not just our own dreams, but God’s dreams.

Matthew 5.2-11

Blessed are those who know the garden isn’t theirs, but tend it anyway.

Blessed are those who’s sadness waters the garden, joy shall rise up around them.

Blessed are those who work without being pushy, everything will come up in its time.

Blessed are those who are focused on God’s harvest, knowing the grace that is coming.

Blessed are those who plant mercy around them, their crop will be huge.

Blessed are those who are looking for God, God will always be near them.

Blessed are those who grow peace, God has made them children of the Garden.

Blessed are those who are made fun of for working in God’s Garden, many before you were treated the same way and God cared for them, watched over them, and made them prosper.

To be yourself

to be yourself is a dangerous thing.

the search for that self is a tedious thing 

sometimes sorting the histories of those around you for language that describes even a fraction of your experience and then falls short of full expression.

the adventure to defend and explore that self in the midst of a world that says it likes originality but worships at an altar of “belonging” and “fitting in” makes for interesting times.

to be yourself is a dangerous thing.

it separates you and defines you and it asks of you no less than your best.

i ask not that you follow me, i know only the way i must go. 

i ask not that you guide me, i must find that path myself.

i ask only that you not hinder me, for i have enough barricades and slippery places in my own heart and mind.

to be yourself is a dangerous thing. 

BUT to know thyself is the most worthy goal for in that knowing you shall find the face of god within you

Have a WYRD day.

The term "wyrd" is an Anglo-Saxon for fate or destiny. 

It is the ancestor to the modern English term "weird" meaning odd or strange. 

If you combine the definitions it means to do things that are slightly out of the norm BUT necessary to the life you are living. 

But I use the old spelling in this case to make sure that BOTH definitions are included. 

It is a further way of defining my motto: Crazy Yes, Stupid No.

inner tyrants and micro wars

The tyrants and the dragons are the easy fight. The reasons for fighting them are clear. It is the small internal fights that are the hard ones. The diets, the exercise, the studying, the chores, the unseen kindness, those are the fights that are the most important. Important because in doing them the tyrants and the dragons are powerless and their fights never come to pass.

Also, care well for each other. You NEVER know what kind of fight those around you are engaged in. You will NEVER fully understand the inner wars of each other. So bind each others wounds and do your best to not add to the already pain of those you know and those you barely pass along the way.

both/and

The map is not the field.

The story is not the experience.

The theory is not the doing.

The talk is not the walk.

Not better, Not worse.
Just Different.
GO DO BOTH.

Sitting on Mom's bench

Cold stone beneath me

Sun rising against my back

Birdsong in the field and tree

Windmill sails dancing in the breeze

Seeking answers among those who have gone before
I will not rest here too long
My answers lie elsewhere
But I'll leave the chocolate cookie right here
And sit a spell with my memories

I am reviewing my writing that I wanted saved a little less spread out than I discovered they were on my Facebook page. So here they are. Slightly out of order but here for easier review.

Grey skies edged with pink. 

White drifts skirting ever-green. 

Brown Grains cracking wide. 

Red flame making room for sprouts. 

Endless black hung with sparkles.

It's all beautiful in its own way and it's own time.

slow and steady fighting the mad headlong rush

slow and steady beat a rhythm of change

slow and steady to pull back from the rush to the newest and the MOST

slow and steady beat the ones on the couch

slow and steady beats those who missed seeing the tree
slow and steady beats those who forgot about the others on this journey
slow and steady beats the ones who are too tired to look beyond the rat race
Seek the Slow and the Steady
Sacrifice the SuperSpeed
Succede at Stillness and Satisfaction

When a hat isn't just a hat.

I have worn a lot of hats

some i put on because i chose to

some were handed to me

some i have taken off and put away

some have been taken from me
some i wear and nobody knows i have it on
some i wear and EVERYBODY knows
some i wear because nobody else will
some have been worn too much
some are in need of repair/replace
some i wish i would never have to put on again
some are stylish
some have seen better days
some are ornamental
some are protective

Underneath those hats is me. 

Never assume that I am my hats. 

Hats come and go. 

Hats change and adjust.

I am more than the hats I wear.

And so are you.

Now begins the race against the Red Queen.

Now continues the fight agains the Hydra.

Now to set plates and sticks in motion.

Now to find all balls in flight.

Now to train cats to herd squirrels.
Now to nail Jello to a tree.

Now to let all fall where it may.

Now to realize what priorities are.

Now to let it be.

Now

I am (not)

I am

I am not my schedule

I am more than my tasks

I am bigger than my job description

I am deeper than my resume
I am not defined by my success
I am not bound by my failures
I am beyond my height or weight
I am never going to fit any box not of my own choosing
I am a teller of tales
I am a student of stories
I will never end my stories too soon for you are a story that can not be told by any single person or written that there is nothing left to say.