Grace-period

I have been thinking a lot about forgiveness this week-how the families of those murdered in a Charlestown church responded, how Christians and the LGBT community are responding to the Supreme Court decision, and, not the least of which, the series "Do Over" at Hope & yesterday's message on Letting Go. I didn't think there was anything I needed to forgive because, in general, I try to deal with things quickly. Meditating today, I see there are somethings that I have been unwilling to release and it is causing me pain...to which I respond with anger.  Injustice ticks me off. Ambiguity annoys me. Being wrong makes me mad. In all of these things, I lack control over the situation. So, as I have begun to explore these tender spots, I have found some places where forgiveness, letting go, may be in order. I need to forgive God. Yes, that IS as arrogant as it sounds. Still, I need to forgive him for not being clear enough, being unwilling to answer all my questions. (Man...

I am limping through another flare up of pain. I am embarrassed as a spasm causes me to seize and grimace. I try to not make eye contact with those coming my way because I am walking crooked with one hip higher than the other. Perhaps if I pretend to not notice, no one else will.  While I may have resigned, more than surrendered, to the realization that pain is part of my life story, I am always grateful for how God is closer to me when I walk with a limp than when I run to catch up with my schedule.  Is it because God moves slower than I want? Maybe it is just that I am trying to outrun him? It doesn't really matter. What does matter is that despite the mental and physical exhaustion of trying to attend to my life despite the pain, I am rested and revived spiritually. I hear birds chattering joyfully and think of Elijah and his raven. I look around and see flowers blooming brightly and think how much more my father cares for me. In the fiery pain, I consider that the Lord him...

I am busy. I feel the weight of my schedule sometimes, and I sigh. Others tell me to say no to this or that...to create margin...to rest...to find balance. What is that? Ever since those blood clots, my life has been full-on-don't-miss-a-moment. Why? Well, I think it is because I am going to die. I don't have cancer or some disease that I know the progression and how it will kill me. But I am terminal. Simply because I am alive.  I don't want to miss anything. My husband says I am nosy. I want to get as many experiences as I can. One day none of this will be around. One day the laughter and hugs and learning will be done. Yes, I believe there is something after all this.  Yes, I believe that what is to come will be indescribable.  But...there is only so much time here. I plan to squeeze every last moment from it.

I am a nurse, and I make a difference.  I don’t make a difference in the traditional sense of nurse-the comfort and fluffing and hand-holding.  It has been about 5 years since I have found myself out of the safety of bedside nursing & caring for patients who often confronted a potentially fatal cardiac illness but were recovering.  Today I serve the less desirable patient-the addict, the prisoner, the mentally ill. Working at a prison was never on my radar.  I had the option in nursing school to do a rotation there, but I was scared.  I was scared of the K-9 units whose handler snarls, “Move over there and don’t look at the dog” as one navigates the cavernous halls, scared of the criminals, the pedophiles and murderers whose faces you might see on the evening news, and scared of being “locked in” which caused panic attacks during my psychiatric nursing rotation.  I was anxious about being on locked units, and even more about not being able to get...

I had breakfast yesterday morning with a dear friend who asked me where I see God active in my life. While we have had many conversations about God over the years, I was slightly taken aback. It was a very direct question, even for someone who is renown for her inquiries. But it probably gave me pause even more because I simply wasn't sure of the answer. God has felt pretty distant lately. I have experienced this before, merely noting that he is on vacation, but when I thought about all the places he could be active: my friends who are struggling, my places of employment, my own life...it all just feels...empty of him. But, I quickly added, he goes on these vacations, and he will be back whenever he sees fit. At work last evening, I received a call to come to the hospital "now." My son was in a car accident. My coworkers hurried me out the door graciously, and I prayed, asking for my friends to pray, as I drove. Gratefully, he is stable. The damage to his body is nothing ...

A selectively  permeable  cell  membrane  is one that allows certain molecules or ions to pass through it. Sometimes my soul feels a little too permeable.  I work with and befriend and care about individuals who may be in the deepest pit of their lives, if they will just stop digging themselves in deeper, that is.  In the last month, there were 4 suicide attempts & 2 simply went missing.  Jails and institutions are a normal part of daily life.  Even if their lives aren't falling apart, some of my friends are grappling with illness or loss of loved ones.  Hunger, homelessness, hopelessness are not a part of a documentary  I watch on TV of a land far away.  I hugged that person last night.  We texted today.  I am praying for them right now. My spirit is weighed down and fatigued.  I carry the pain, the doubts, the fears with me-this weird spiritual dust that I cannot brush off.  I thought my soul was pe...

I am not the tape to piece your life together. I am not the super glue to seal the cracks of breakage in your world. I wish I could. I wish I could fix you. I wish you could see what I see in you. I wish you could stand in my shoes and get a different perspective. It saddens me to know that you can't. I know that right now you're trapped-in the pain and the chaos in your head, believing the lies, hoping to die, wishing that it would all simply stop. Frankly I'm not even the superglue for my own life. I can also be a mess, overwhelmed and insecure. I have brokenness that you might not see, but it is there. I've been thinking about that tonight, as I wonder-what is my superglue? During this time of year when the darkness comes too early and, worse, the darkness inside my head seems to creep a little closer, I have only one superglue, one refuge, one hope. Jesus. I think that's why we celebrate his birth during these dark nights, not because of some Roman god. The thou...