Tsumani: Hope and Grief Unleashed

Tsumani: Hope and Grief Unleashed

Our teenage son is diagnosed with Down Syndrome, autism, and speech apraxia. In his eighteen years of life we have only ever heard him utter one or two words that we could understand. We did years of speech therapy, he learned sign language, and he has a communication device. Yet nothing has given our son the ability to express himself beyond wanting a Coke or a milkshake.   


We have prayed his whole life that he would be able to speak–to tell us where he hurts, let us know how he’s feeling, or what he would like to do for his birthday. We would have dreams in which he spoke in full sentences only to wake up and find it wasn’t real. We told ourselves, “This is as good as it’s going to get but it's ok, we love him no matter what.”

A Small Sea of Listeners

A Small Sea of Listeners

A few years back, I said yes to something I rarely say yes to: a last-minute invitation. Honestly, though, I sometimes don’t say yes to first-minute invitations, either. Weeks or months in advance, I’ll buy a ticket to a concert or ballgame and then, day of, hem and haw about going... more than a few times content to stay put, and savor the moment I’m already in.

But following this particular last-minute yes, I found myself in a small sea of listeners, at Seattle’s Benaroya Hall, while two men in armchairs, bathed in warm theater light, chatted on stage. The interviewee, writer and farmer, Wendell Berry. And while I don’t recall most of what he said that night, I do remember how I felt, listening.

Heart, Desires, and Secrets from Spiritual Direction

Heart, Desires, and Secrets from Spiritual Direction

Allow me to share a memory of my later-in-life calling, the moment when God winked at all my training, self-assured insights, and hurried prayers within just a few minutes of welcoming a directee for the very first time.   

It was ten years ago this month. The little church library where we would meet had more sofa chairs, more arms and legs, than a Macy’s showroom. Open the blinds. Turn on the heat. Check my soul. I then let out one, long breath prayer to a flickering tea candle, the wall clock, and Jesus. 

God Our Ophthalmologist

God Our Ophthalmologist

The flat terrain of ordinary days is as transformative as the extreme peaks and valleys we journey, a journey with January as a natural starting line for most. Identifying as an enneagram four type, sometimes described as a "frustrated idealist," I inevitably find my attention drawn to what is lacking, what needs a fix. Envisioning beauty and goodness propels me to keep working toward solutions, while other times I spiral into discouragement. The results can be helpful responses or harmful reactions. Working and praying with this wisdom for over a decade now, I know this tendency touches every corner of my world.

A Shoot Will Grow Up

A Shoot Will Grow Up

I am one who loves Christmas and contemplates “how early is too early to start with the music and decorations?” I also don’t want to crowd out Thanksgiving celebrations with too much too soon!  What has emerged over the years to honor both desires, is a genre of music I call “pre-Christmas music,” and just one “pre-Christmas” decoration. This decoration comes out well before Advent. It is a plain gray stump that I set on my counter along with Thanksgiving pumpkins. 

 This stump leads to my pre-Christmas meditation based on Isaiah 11:1:

       A shoot will grow up from the stump of Jesse; a branch will sprout from his roots. 

Being the Beloved

Being the Beloved

“Being the Beloved” is a familiar saying in the Christian tradition and especially among those of us who are spiritual directors.  Yet while I was recently sick with Covid 19--my mind was still clear and not totally jumbled, I did some reading.  In the book Spiritual Direction by Henri Nouwen, Henri used a guided meditation composed by Arthur LeClair.  In a brief form it goes like this:

 

For ten minutes say the words Jesus, You are the Beloved

For another ten minutes say the words, Jesus, I am the Beloved

Finally, say the words, Jesus, we (all) are the Beloved.

A Lavish, Loving God

A Lavish, Loving God

Fall has fallen—earlier sunsets, layered clothing, cooler nights. This evening, I am sitting where a breeze carries a pleasant pine scent through an open window, and motorcycles hum around curves in the county road nearby. The TV is off tonight while my husband and I each work out a Sudoku puzzle. Our Australian Shepherds lie near our feet like throw rugs. An owl makes its clicking sound as it glides past outside hunting rabbits, moles, mice. This brings to mind being startled by a covey of quail erupting from the dogwood hedge beside the sprawling cantaloupe I was watering today. And dinner. Everything but the salmon was from our garden. I notice myself accidentally smiling. Contentment.

Love's Peanut Butter

Love's Peanut Butter

It was a lovely Friday evening at the park with Meeka, my dog. On the walk back to the car, I noticed something on her paws. It was sticky pine sap--on all four paws! She wanted to remove it herself, but I could not let her. Licking and ingesting the sap, and the pebbles and twigs stuck in the sap, was not an option. I needed to help her, but how? She would not let me touch her paws.

The troublesome sap hardened like glue between her paw pads before I could get at it. Eventually I borrowed a muzzle from her veterinarian, then off we went to a do-it-yourself pet bathing station where an angel appeared—aka a groomer. She told me, “Peanut butter will get out the sap—not warm soapy water” (as I had previously been told).

A Season of Letting Go

A Season of Letting Go

In Matthew chapter 10, Jesus is preparing his disciples for ministry amongst their fellow Israelites. A new message is being given. The old has passed away and the new has come, the new being profoundly known in Jesus’ ministry. The Kingdom of Heaven has begun in the life and death of Christ. The words in Matthew’s gospel are confounding. Jesus says, ‘Do not think that I have come to bring peace to the earth, I have not come to bring peace, but a sword’ (Matt. 10:34).

Jesus goes on to explain that within family circles there will be division about who God is. There will be misunderstanding and a desire to be right. How can this be? There are more questions than answers in this passage for me, but I am aware of a sense of the radical nature of what Christ came to do. It required a radical alignment with Him in order that the world would be saved. Is this not what we are living right now? And it is what it means to “let go” of one’s own preferences in order to align with love.

Daring to Let Go

Daring to Let Go

I spent my late teens and early twenties teaching swim lessons. Some of my favorite people to teach were adults who had not yet learned to swim. It was so inspiring to witness their bravery as they let themselves be a beginner and step into the pool, often overcoming years of fearing the water.