Wind and Water

My husband Steve and I watched the baseball game Monday night alternatively with the gathering group of storm clouds creeping over the ball park from the west.  “We need to go, Cricket,” Steve said. “Those clouds look ugly.”   I, never wanting to leave a baseball game prematurely, kept saying, “Let’s wait just a little longer.”  He finally convinced me to go as the sky over the first base side went black.  

We were about the distance between home and first base from the car when the wall of water swept over us.  The wind drove the cold rain into our backs as we sprinted to the car. We plopped our soggy bodies into the seats and sat there as the storm rushed over us.  It was difficult to see in the rain, which made for a confusing exit out of the parking lot.

The rain put a damper on our evening, but it certainly was more inconvenience than tragedy.  Tragedy looms large as walls of water and wind have taken their toll in lost life and livelihoods in the midsection of our country.  I can’t imagine the terror of the Joplin, Missouri, tornado. I’ve been in a tornado, a small one, and that was enough to scare me senseless.  The worst part about tornadoes is the suddenness of them. 

Equally frightening would be the knowledge that in order to prevent egregious loss of life and property downstream, water will be released into spillways, devastating neighborhoods and families.  How do you choose what to put in a car and save and what to leave behind?  The people, the animals…those are the easy choices.  The photo albums, the electronics, the family heirlooms – those choices are difficult.

It’s easy, sitting in my office, to think about wind and rain as the gentle elements that help us fly kites and grow gardens. It’s not so easy thinking about them as vehicles of destruction.  It takes a great deal of faith to believe that out of flooded plains and wind-wrought cities new creations will grow.  It takes faith in God and it takes faith in the community that surrounds you.  We need the wind of the Holy Spirit and the water of our Baptisms to work in us the desire to foster new life in the communities hard hit by Mother Nature.  Pray and consider how you can best serve those in need. 

http://www.diowestmo.org/home0.aspx; www.er-d.org

Left Behind

I realize that my title phrase has gotten a lot of press over the last three weeks.  I invite you to consider it from a different perspective.  The words evoke feelings of abandonment.  Images of lost animals or children in poverty come to mind.  We've been distracted by threats of disappearing bodies, earthquakes, and rapture-speak. 

The media blitz has passed on to the next sound bite.  We shouldn't pass on thinking, praying, and acting to ensure that we don't leave our fellow human beings behind.  Perhaps you can take some time to visit a lonely person in a nursing home.  The local food bank probably could use a volunteer.  That new mom and dad will appreciate a meal they can heat up easily. You may be the person needed to help an adult learn to read.  Your calm presence may be just what a young person who is struggling with illness may need to trust in the future.

Tending to those who have been 'left behind' because of economic circumstances, illness and other life circumstances, or by unfortunate choices on their part, helps bring about the end of the world as they know it.  We all have those moments when we feel 'left behind'.  Be there for others as you would have them be there for you.

Mayonnaise

I love the word mayonnaise.  It sounds fun and I like the way your tongue hits the roof of your mouth just before you pronounce the last syllable.  I like the word because it reminds me of my friend Bob.  Bob once preached about a master chef who created mayonnaise by deliberately adding drops of oil to egg while gently whisking the two together.  Creating mayonnaise is tricky because there is a topping point when there is just enough oil and just enough egg.  If you go past the tipping point, the creation is ruined.  Well, it's ruined for anyone but a master chef.  A master chef knows how to reintroduce egg to the mixture and restore the balance.  God, of course, is the master chef of creation who creatively introduces balance back into the world.

One way that God restored balance into my world was through Bob.  He kept me from going past the tipping point when I was in seminary by deliberately adding a gourmet lunch to my life at least once a term.  He told me stories of his glory days in the church and encouraged me to stand my ground against 'idiotic academia'.  After all of the clergy had left me after my ordination to return to their seats, one hand remained on my shoulder.  It was Bob's.  He walked with me the whole way.

Bob died a few months ago.  I miss him.  I miss our lunches together. I have good memories though. To honor Bob's memory, I will try to follow his example by adding a little love (or lunch) to a friend's life to keep them from tipping.  When I do, I know Bob will have a hand on my shoulder.

In my beginning is my end...

End.  Not THE end, not the finish.  End, the purpose.
My purpose in From the Hearth is to record my thoughts and feelings about those things I experience in my life and work. I hope we might have some conversations as well.

What I have to say has probably been said before.  That's okay.  I'm saying it my way.  That doesn't make the others 'less than'.  I found my voice and need to speak.  That's all.  I don't plan to reveal anything extraordinary.  On the contrary, I hope to find something amazing in the ordinary.

Cricket