Pleasure

kitten nuzzling my neck

his purr vibrating against my throat

body completely relaxed in trust

cuddling at night

after a long day

me and my girl

reading favorite books

interrupted by news

we just have to share

walking with my beloved

his big warm soft hands

enveloping my own

I am safe

riding the rollercoaster

with eyes wide open

savoring the Now

the up and over and upside down

the smooth twirling in air

feet above my head

feeling ten years old

driving in the hills

watching the eagle and the hawk

humming John Denver

and swerving to avoid

the pheasant strutting across the road

like a church lady with a new hat

in the middle of making supper

or canning the harvest

Elvis comes on the radio

and without instruction

my daughter and I move into the groove

shaking hips and legs

and feeling the beat

for all those moments

I taste heaven

in the midst of

pure

Pleasure

and it is Good.

Love Wins

In my bedroom, I have a stuffed Hagrid and a Harry Potter doll on top of my dresser.  At their feet is a stuffed basilisk.  I also have a little Dobby figurine complete with an iron and a lamp in his hands.  My 9 year-old gray cat is named Dobby, and when I call him I find myself saying his name in a British accent.  Why is that?  Harry Potter has been an integral part of my life and the life of my family. 

As a writer I am in awe of J.K. Rowling.  She didn't get an M.F.A. in creative writing, she just loved to write, and she had a story in her head that begged to be written.  I don't believe one person could have just dreamed that whole story up.  I believe that story was given to her to write;  it was a gift of the gods to humankind; to children of all ages.  It is nothing short of brilliant!  Rowling herself has an uncanny brilliance  to have been the teller of that story.  HP is full of symbols that touch the soul, tell us who we are, and give us courage to live for love and Goodness, against all odds.  The summary of the entire series is that Love Always Wins.  By jove, I dare say that's biblical!!  In the end, it's not violence or power that endures, but love.  It's the power that sees us through when all seems dark and hopeless and we look entirely mad to still believe in its possibility. 

My daughter Sarah was 7 years old when the first Potter movie came out, and she had been introduced to the Harry Potter series in elementary form at school.  She wanted to see the movie.  I was painfully aware of the religious controversy over it, so I decided to find out for myself what all the hubbub was about.  I purchased "Harry Potter and the Sorcerer's Stone" because the waiting list was too long at the library.  Larry and Sarah went to the movie, but I wanted to wait and read the book first. 

That was in November 2001.  The whole world was sad and dark during that time.  As a pastor and human being, I struggled with hope after 9/11.  But when I started reading "Harry Potter" I was transported into a world of magic, of imagination, wonder, delight, fun, depth, spirit and hope.  Yep, a so-called children's book gave me HOPE.  I couldn't stop at the end of the book.  I bought the second one, the third and the fourth and anxiously awaited the fifth.  I read the first 4 during the four weeks of Advent, and that was very fitting.  A time of great upheaval in the world after 9/11 and Advent; a time of waiting and trusting against all evidence that Love will win in the end.   Harry's story helped me through a horribly dark time.  Both Larry and Sarah read the books as well, and with each new book's publication, we impatiently waited for one to finish so the next person could read it. 

In the 10 years since, we have loved Harry, and Sarah has literally grown up with the story.  We've watched all the movies more than once, and celebrated the unique genius of each effort to convert the books to film with integrity.  I have cared about the actors and actresses who've translated this story for us so beautifully and allowed us all to watch them grow up so admirably in front of millions of aunts, uncles and cousins.  I'm encouraged that they turned out so well in an age where child actors too often become the subject of tragic stories.  I've been particularly enamored with Snape and his silky voice, and his character that was so much more than met the eye.  He showed us that we all have the potential for goodness and bravery and deep, passionate love. 

It is my favorite story of all time.  It is a smorgasboard of truths about the human condition, that just when you're ready to give up and be a cynic,  you are assured that there is Something Greater always at work that will always triumph for those who persist in believing and risk appearing naive in this cynical world. 

Thank you, Harry, and thank you, J.K. Rowling, for giving us such a powerful story to carry with us.  Thank you for teasing our crusty imaginations alive again, making us feel like children again who still believe in magic, and for assuring us dreamers that there is reason to keep on keeping on for a world without evil, violence, greed and lust for power that eventually kills both body and spirit. 

I keep big ol' huggable Hagrid and The Boy Who Lived (Twice) up where I can see them before I go to sleep, just in case my dreams get scary.  And I remember that Love will shelter me in my sleeping and my waking, no matter what.

If I only believe.....

childhood

when I think
of being a kid
suddenly I smell
fresh-cut grass
hear the mourning dove
moan

I smell
wood smoke
and am comforted
damp earth
the sound of rain drops
on forest leaves

pine needles
were a bed
on which to nap
in the back yard
while the bark dripped
of christmas sap

the musty barn
old wood
smelled of dirt
pain chips in the grass
at the entrance
an anomaly in the city

creaky stiars
led to mysteries
in the loft
saturated with spirits
of the dead
in army green

banana seat bicycle
I was a racing star
hearing the cheers
of my fans
as I crossed the line
first

the crackle of
a needle on vinyl
squeezing out music
in the grooves
music that filled
all the empty spaces
and let me fly
on fairy dust

and let me dream

Ii was a super hero
I was the first woman president
I was a leader
that saved the world
from itself

I heard the sadness
in the dove's song
but I also heard the hope
imagined the wind
on its wings

after all, it could fly

and now I hear it
up in the trees
on a late summer evening
reminding me of treasures

simplicity

reminding me
to dream

ruins

they're tearing down
the old school
and people are weeping

it didn't meet the codes
they couldn't afford
to keep it standing

but it
holds
peoples' lives

connects children
and grandchildren

they remember When

as another slab
of concrete
shatters on the ground

through the clouds
of dirt
and gravel

people drive by
slowly
as if in a funeral procession
or rubber-necking at a car wreck

silently
watching it all
fall apart

a sanctuary
a container
of snapshots of the past

moments frozen
all looking so perfect
in retrospect

coming down
broken
dust to dust
and
ashes to ashes

all my life
I was moving on
here and there
packing up

the one constant
the thread
that held all the pieces
together

was
the Sanctuary
candlelight and broken bread
grape juice and desert epics
billowy costumes
formal procession

drama in word
redemption offered
in water and fire
the cup and the stole

and like a giant yellow
Caterpillar
huge sharp teeth
heavy, crushing, biting

it all falls down
shattered
stone upon stone
teeth set on edge

fire and smoke
ashes to ashes
dust to dust

ashes to ashes
dust to dust

broken chalice
in the rubble
torn pages
from an empty book

echoes of pontification
faded in the air
splintered wood
once carved, once beautiful

all coming down

no longer viable
no longer life-giving
no longer
useful

ashes to ashes
dust to dust

in the midst
of the rubble
I search

rip cord

sunny morning

a spirit

a wish

of daring

strapped in harness

ascending with cables

up

up

above the city

above the crowds

above the church steeples

higher

above it all

adrenaline rush

time standing still

the things that bother me

down there

are as small

as the ant-sized people

below

I can breathe

laugh at nothing

none of it

weighs me down

none of it matters

and then, a pull

whoosh!

I'm falling

falling

falling toward

water

trees

the earth

knowing

that I won't crash

another tug

and I'm flying

soaring

arms outstretched

in a moment of

weightlessness

elusive freedom

from it all

no parents

none of the fears

they instilled in me

fears of flying

of rising above

arms wide open

heart exposed

to life and air

for better and worse

a parable

for living

breaking free

soaring

defying

oppressive gravity

unconcerned by mortality

eyes wide open

to remember

the moment

feet back on

the ground

my own weight

hard against

the surface

I will remember

what it felt like

for a moment

to soar



And God said.... Dance

In the Beginning, there was Beauty

no one knows how it began or

when exactly

it just

Was

Beauty Was

And God who is All Things

God who is Mother Father Child Goodness

Young Old All Things Living

God created

God worked with Hands and Womb

with Stuff

and formed trees and birds and

animals and rocks and plains

sun moon and sky and water

and said

WOW

Then God chuckled as if amused by

a secret

and She took earth-- damp dirt

with grass and minerals

and made a man and made a

woman

they were created

connected

they knew intinctively

that they needed each other

whole in themselves

but so much more

abundant

together

and they were naked

but it didn't matter

because it was all Good

it all so very Good

they made love and they giggled

they danced and they ate

they swam in the ocean

and brushed against fishy scaley things

that tickled their toes

they climbed trees

built things, opened their mouths

to taste the rain

and every day they said,

"thank you" to the God who created

it all...

they ate fruit and vegtables of the

garden naming them as they went

and it was good, it was all so very

Good

God smiled and God laughed at their

frivolity

and like any good parent

God ached for them

knowing that the gates were open

and one day they'd walk through them

and the rest of the world

would be theirs

and with it would come

heartache and sorrow

opprtunities to try and fail

and try again

God hoped they would remember

where they came from

that they would carry this beauty

with them

draw strength from the magnificence

of their creation

and grow

Grow...

it was a risk God

was willing to take

to give them the fullness

of Life....

So, for now,  God said

Dance

and never forget

the music out of which

you

were born....

Living on the Outside

               It has been almost 20 months since I handed in my ordination papers.  At first, we felt like we needed to find a community in which to worship.  I didn't want to go to a United Methodist Church again-- that felt too much like dating your ex-husband!  We tried the Episcopalians and the Lutherans, and both congregations were very nice and yet it didn't feel right.  It felt too much like we were forcing a relationship to happen-- perhaps like feeling like after the divorce you absolutely MUST remarry?  Sometimes when someone exits a long-term relationship they need to know what it feels like to be single again.  To remember who they are, what they love, who they are in and of themselves, before they can enter into a healthy relationship and not make the same mistakes again. 

After all,  I had been a part of Church since the womb.  I have never known what it's like Outside. 

It's actually quite beautiful out here.  The colors are varied and rich.  You don't come upon the same pattern twice in one day.  There is a whole different perspective out here. 

At first, being Outside was terrifying.  I only knew the rules Inside.  I knew how people functioned, how they related,  what was expected.  People fell into behavioral patterns.  We had our scripts that we memorized, our theme songs.  I'm not putting down being on the Inside.  Many of you on the Inside have always been free to come and go as you pleased.  I never left.  I was there 24/7 from the time I was born. 

I didn't know the rules out here, and what I've come to learn is that the rules change all the time, because people are so different.  At first I scrambled to find some pattern to go by.  But now I live in the uncertainty and every day I anticipate surprises.  No, it's not always pleasant and sometimes I get tired of people and all the stimulation!  The world, after all, is a world of extroverts, and it's hard to be an introvert in an extroverted world!  Sometimes it's downright exhausting, but I've learned how to pull back and get re-nourished. 

Even the people I work with in the so-called "secular world" are so different.  We all come from different backgrounds and traditions.  If we didn't work together, chances are we'd never stumble over each other.  Some go to church faithfully, some don't.  But we pray for each other.  We support each other.  We love each other.  We are a mixed-up, sometimes crazy community.  But when the you-know-what hits the fan,  we can count on each other.  I love the people I work with.  Sometimes I have to remind myself of that!  But isn't family like that, too?  Some I love more than others.  I know who to go to for a hug or a prayer.  I know who I can cry with and who I can't. 

I remember sitting in church about 25 years ago and they sang,  "Make Me A Captive, Lord."  I had a physical reaction to that hymn.  I know, I can dissect it theologically as to what the writer meant, but I have always hated that hymn.  Out here, outside,  I feel free.  I can think, I can question,  I can wonder, I can look at things from a completely different perspective and see the beauty and truth.  And no lightning has struck me yet! 

Jesus is always there.  I always come back to Jesus.  He's always been a very real part of my journey;  his teachings, his story.  I have experienced the power of his resurrection over and over again.  I've always thought that Jesus himself gets bored with Church.  And I think it breaks his heart to see some of the things that go on in his name.  When he walked on this earth, he never spent too much time in one place, because life, especially his physical life, is so short.  There's too many places to go,  things to think and learn,  people to know,  truths to be learned.  He was always moving, searching, seeing, teaching, touching, and marveling at God's beauty all over the place. 

People ask me what I am.  I'm no longer a United Methodist.  I am a Christian.  I am a follower of the Living Christ, a Child of God.  I don't need to be in a  category, especially since when you get put in one, people think they know you.  And there is much, much more to me to learn about than what can be contained in a category. 

In my hospice work, I meet all kinds of people.  Some are very connected to a Church, and yet there are a surprising number who aren't, but who have managed to find the peace of Christ out here on the Outside.  They are not afraid of death, trusting in the God who makes all things New.  I have seen such beauty and peace at the moment of death as people leave this earth.  It's like they fly.  They are free for the first real time in their lives. 

Out here on the Outside, there is Life and Love.  There's a lot of uncertainty, because life isn't summed up in a creed.  I like following Jesus, the risen Christ, all over the place.  I know I am sustained by Spirit,  by deep, eternal Love,  and I never walk alone. 

I had to leave home in order to find that out.  And yet,  I've discovered that Home is wherever God is, and God is.... everywhere.