Photo Bombing

~ Elizabeth ~ 2 Comments

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Before I talk about photo bombing, let’s notice how I look like a 102 year old Eastern European lady in this photo!

My granddaughter introduced me to the term “photo bombing,” when you jump into someone else’s photo, uninvited. Here my dog Cinder seems to be trying to claim the foreground of the photo. At least her rear end is trying to nudge me out.

I think the President-elect is doing the equivalent of photo bombing my tranquility and self-regulation. I will be calm, grounded and optimistic, secure in my faith and surrounded by those who love me and then  BAM–I walk by an insane headline such as “Trump says no one is sure about climate change.” Disregulation, internal argument about the truth, frustration, despair creep in. This happens when I least expect it, such as waiting in line at the drug store.

So I am trying to let God photo bomb me instead. I am mindful of the hawk that sits up on the power pole, pulling me out of my funk, restoring my calm. I watch the long line going to Communion and my faith is buoyed. I see my husband standing on the ground cleaning the gutters with a hand made vaccum device worthy of Rube Goldberg, and I remember that he promised me he will stay off ladders because he loves me.

I welcome such interruptions of joy, light, peace, and love. Keep them coming God.

An Ever Present Help

~ Elizabeth ~ 2 Comments

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While this is a picture of me and my grandfather(and yes, I could read when I was that little), this piece is on a different connection. I continue to honor my commitment to not post living relatives, so this is a stand-in photo.

I was divorced from the father of my daughter 38 years ago. Our marriage had failed, but we made a promise to raise our daughter together, to always let the other have full involvement in her life, and to make sure she always knew that two parents had her back. We also promised never to put down the other parent in front of her. She lived mostly with me, but freely spent time with her dad. Sometimes it was as simple as him stopping over to take her to ice cream. Sometimes it was a camping trip. Once it was a cross country trek to meet the extended family spread over the United States. Once when I was very ill, he immediately took her to his home for a month, making sure she could continue in the school near me.

He and I each remarried in 1988, and we both remain in solid marriages. Our grandchildren are blessed with four grandparents on their mother’s side!  We all attended college graduation, wedding, and musical performances together. We had honored our commitment to our daughter.

Was it easy? No. Did it require each of us to sacrifice our need to be right? Yes. We learned as we went along, knowing only what we had seen  damage  children. We tried hard to avoid those pitfalls.

So this Advent I am grateful to my first husband and his wife. Merry Christmas.

Unlimited Long Distance

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I loved my maternal grandparents very much, but after we moved to Oregon, I only got to see them every few years, since they lived in Buffalo, New York. We got to talk to them on Christmas every year. Long distance phone calls were expensive and complicated to arrange. My grandparents would place a call with an operator. Then we would wait all day for the operator to call and say, “I have a person to person call for D.” Then my dad would get on the phone and we would all take turns saying a quick “Merry Christmas” before we had to hang up “before this all costs too much.”

One of the things I am grateful for this Advent is unlimited long distance phone calls for a set price. We moved  across the country 15 years ago, leaving close friends behind in Oregon. Some of our friends had also moved around the country. I have made new friends here, but there is no replacement for people who have known you deeply for much of your life.

Now I am able to talk, at length, to these friends as often as we like. We don’t have to worry, as we once did, about what it is costing us. We can have deep conversations and maintain a real connection.

I never could have believed that would happen, back when long distance was an event!

“These Rooms”

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Compassion can be found in many physical locations. This was my grandparents’ summer home where I found love and safety. Another place I discovered great kindness was in “these rooms,” shorthand for 12 step meetings which offered me solace as I dealt with the addictions of members of my family.

I have been reflecting on something I learned years ago in such a room. When the family member of an addict changes, she will encounter a very strong message of “change back.” The addict counts on the people around her staying the same so that she can continue on her own course. Once the other person stops their routine behavior-whether walking out of a room where the addict is raging, or refusing to make excuses for their behavior- the addict has a problem. Things have changed. The solution the addict comes up with is CHANGE BACK. I LIKED THINGS THE WAY THEY WERE!

It seems to me that there is a lot of “change back” going on in our country at the moment. It’s uncomfortable and sometimes dangerous to resist the pressure to change back. But we are called to continue on the paths to justice, racial and religious reconciliation, respect for women, welcome of the outcast, and embrace of the homeless that we were on earlier this century.

We can’t expect that our persistence in the face of such powerful and scary messages to “change back” will be welcomed. Ask anyone who has sat in “these rooms” and discussed the ramifications of refusing to give into an addict’s demands. But persist we must. It is the way to healing and wholeness, both for the future and for our country.

 

My Personal Elves

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I choose to not show any pictures of people in my family who are still living, believing that they deserve privacy. So this stock image will have to suffice to substitute for my actual grandchildren.I have been reflecting on kindness this Advent, and now reflect on the kindness of children. My own grandchildren to be specific.

On Saturday they showed up at my door to get out all the Christmas decorations I have in the basement. I have always worn myself out carrying all the boxes upstairs and setting everything up. That day, they carried everything upstairs, just needing me to point to what needed to go. Then they opened all the boxes and set up decorations where I had put them in previous years. They are only 7 and 9, but they had a clear sense of what went where. They rearranged things just enough to show their involvement, but basically repeated what they had seen in earlier years.

We saved the tree ornaments and lights for next weekend when we all go to Charlie Brown’s Tree Farm(the real name!) and cut a tree and buy wreaths for both of our houses. One of their dogs is still young enough to attack a tree, so ours will be the only one this year.

I was touched to the core by their kindness that day. They squealed with delight each time something they remembered was unpacked. They set all the musical decor playing at once knowing it made me crazy(but in a good way.) I ended up with a decorated house and my energy intact.

Thanks kids.

A New Perspective

~ Elizabeth ~ 2 Comments

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Sometimes kindness comes from another person seeing something that has caged us in by offering a different view of the situation.

Years ago, a dear pastor friend Stan Thornburg was listening to me take responsibility for something he didn’t believe was my fault. He couldn’t get through to me, as I continued to carry the blame. Finally, in pure desperation I think, he said,”Suppose I threw you through that window.” I imagined that taking place and wondered what on earth that had to do with my struggle.

“Well,” he said, “I guess I could say you broke the window.” “Yes,” I agreed, still stuck in my way of seeing things.

“Wrong!” he insisted, ” I broke the window; you were just what I used to do it.”

He got through to me with a blunt example, but he gave me a great gift of freedom from unwarranted guilt.

We minister kindness to one another in many different ways. Thanks Stan.

No Santa?

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When I was a child, I still believed in Santa Claus and I visited him at Meier and Frank, the big downtown department store. Going downtown was an occasion to dress up, and so I had.

In the recent election, many voters seemed to see our  President Elect as a present time Santa, promising an end to many problems, most beyond any one person’s ability to solve.

Today I am feeling compassion for those folks who may find many of their hopes crushed as the country moves forward. As I have written before, there is no going back to a so-called golden age of the United States. Not only will there be massive changes to access to health insurance; there are rumblings about privatizing Medicare. In the good old days there were millions of poor, ill, uninsured citizens, many elderly, in this country. I pray that doesn’t happen again.

When I found out that Santa wasn’t real, I was reassured that the spirit he represented still lived. Compassion, generosity and a listening ear are all available even if Santa isn’t the one providing them. I pray that, when people learn that the promises of the campaign may not prove to benefit them, they not become bitter and disillusioned. May we as a country find a way to meet the deepest wishes of all our citizens without pitting them against each other. When we turn on each other, no one wins.

Kindness of Strangers

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I don’t know who this man is, just a friend of my grandfather’s. He stopped by to show me a baby porcupine he had rescued and was caring for. He respects my hesitancy, even as he smiles reassuringly. After all, what little girl would want to approach a porcupine?

The kindness of strangers can be comforting in challenging situations, even if they don’t involve porcupines. At the doctor’s office yesterday, the new nurse went out of her way to make me feel at ease. She never said that I looked nervous; she just was consistently kind in her manner and warm in her countenance.

I am making it a point this Advent to focus on kindness I see in others’ small gestures. It can be someone opening a door, carrying someone else’s suitcase, or giving directions to a lost motorist.

There is a lot of quiet kindness going on around us if we stop to look for it.

“Random?” Acts of Kindness

~ Elizabeth ~ 1 Comment

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A few years ago I frequently spotted bumper stickers urging us to practice “random acts of kindness.” I was always irritated at a low level way by the use of the word “random.” I realized that I wanted a bumper sticker that said “practice intentional acts of kindness.” It’s those acts that I have been reflecting on so far in Advent. The intentional things that others have done that have encouraged me throughout my life.I guess it can feel good to do something anonymously, but I have always appreciated the face to face context for kindness shown to me.

I enjoy this picture of me with a younger sibling who is clearly distressed. I seem to be trying to figure out what would help her to cheer her up.

I am reminded of a neighbor of mine when I was a single mother and my child and I  were both very ill with a stomach bug. Everett was a widower and already in his late 70’s when we met. After not seeing us for two days, he came over to the house with a bowl of strawberry jello. He said,”I’m not much of a cook, but I thought this would help you feel better.”

An intentional act of kindness.

Meeting the Face of Jesus

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Arthur Roberts

Long before I was Catholic, long before I was Christian even, I was a deist. That is, I believed there was a God, but thought that Jesus was a good man who lived a long time ago and had good things to say to us. The only religious education I had ever received, and that very very occasionally, was Unitarian. The Unitarians, as revealed in their name, rejected the idea of Trinity and spoke of Jesus, when they did at all, in similar terms as my own.

A fellow graduate student attended a place called Reedwood Friends Church, and he invited me to attend it. This was an Evangelical Friends congregation which meant they were Quakers who had a pastor. They had long periods of silent worship and they adhered to all the testimonies of the Quakers such as peace and social justice.

I visited with great trepidation. Most of what I knew of Christianity was negative, informed by street preaching and door to door evangelizing. To my surprise, a distinguished looking man came up to me after the service and welcomed me. He asked me why I was visiting. I explained I was not a Christian but was intrigued by Christianity.

He said, “You are welcome to sojourn with us as long as you like. You don’t have to do anything else.” With all pressure off, I attended church there for many years, gradually having a conversion, quiet and true, to Christianity.

Arthur Roberts, a now retired professor from George Fox University, was that welcoming face of Christ.

Thanks to those who share, rather than impose, their faith.