Pastor Annette's Blog
"OF ALL THE THINGS GOD HAS SHOWN ME, I CAN SPEAK BUT A LITTLE WORD . . . NOT MORE THAN A HONEYBEE CAN CARRY AWAY ON ITS FOOT FROM AN OVERFLOWING JAR."
~ MECHTHILD OF MAGDEBURG, 13TH CENTURY MYSTIC |
"OF ALL THE THINGS GOD HAS SHOWN ME, I CAN SPEAK BUT A LITTLE WORD . . . NOT MORE THAN A HONEYBEE CAN CARRY AWAY ON ITS FOOT FROM AN OVERFLOWING JAR."
~ MECHTHILD OF MAGDEBURG, 13TH CENTURY MYSTIC |
Beloved: My mother preached, absolutely nothing goes in the ground before Mother’s Day! but I checked the forecast and planted some things yesterday anyway. I probably shouldn’t have bought them, but I’m out of town next week and don’t want them to get too dry. One white bleeding heart (Dicentra Spectabilis) and two lenten roses (Hellebores), yellow and purple. Also my friend gave me purple hyacinth beans and I’ve started some in little pots. They are sprouting nicely and can go into the dirt in another couple of weeks. Also, they have the best scientific name ~ Lablab Purpureus ~ it sounds like the scientist was stuttering. I’m excited to see what pollinators it draws to my yard. Purple Hyacinth Bean Vine White Bleeding Heart
The wonder of it never gets old. Collecting seeds into a paper bag one fall to drop in the dirt next spring, and for little more effort than that, food and flowers explode from the ground. Life from an old dried-up bean pod. Life so abundant we’d consider it obscene if it were money or property. Yet we pass this wealth around for free, in a second-hand paper bag sealed with a bit of masking tape like my friend Fran gave me, and for all the bad and scary news these days, this abundance persists too, refusing to be shushed or shadowed. Holding both in proper counterpoise is an unending task of faith, rooted and realized in prayer, in regular contact with one’s own soul. I remember first learning not to say thank you for shared seeds or plant cuttings. The idea being that to say thank you suggests a possession of nature that does not belong to us, and to risk offending the plant so that it might refuse to thrive. Alternative responses are, I can’t wait to see this in my yard! Or, how generous of you to think of me! As I wind this down a storm is coming in, lots of lightning and loud thunder, and rain, abundant rain, don’t you know. I pray that the day finds you grateful for the abundance of delight this life holds. ~ peace & prayers, pastor annette
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April 22, 2025
Beloved: Years ago I stayed with friends in India whose beautiful house is designed to catch every bit of moving air. Even at the hottest time of day, it was amazingly comfortable. One morning as I dressed, I noticed a smallish green lizard lounging next to my suitcase. Wanting to be a good guest, I mentioned to my host: By the way - it’s not a problem for me. I just thought I’d let you know there’s a lizard in my room. Oh it’s fine, she said, we just coexist around here. The lizard came to mind this morning when I saw another house centipede scurrying along my bookcase. The first one got sucked up in the vacuum yesterday before I could miss it. So I read about them and decided I’m glad to coexist, because on Sunday afternoon I discovered what I hope was a swarm of tiny flying ants (not termites!) in the carpet by my sliding doors. I intentionally swept them up and haven’t seen any since but, whether flying ants or termites, the house centipedes are on the case and I’d rather give them my business than a man with a jug of poison. Naturally this got me to thinking about all the other coexistence any given day requires. Neighbors. Family. Politics. Weather. Traffic. The worries in my own head and heart. The future and the past. Money and the lack of it. The fear of the lack of it. Grief and trauma. Chronic illness. Doubt. Shame. Boredom. Disappointment. Anger. Loneliness. Longing. Resentment. Anything with which we wish we did not have to contend, and certainly not over time. And yet, we don’t wish not to be . . . these are the bugs of being a human being ~ the bits that interfere with the better part which is joy. And peace. And everything that is beautiful and good, life-giving and kind. None of it would break our hearts if not for the sweetness of what’s lost. And so, just like within my little house, all this beauty and heartbreak coexist within the skin of your humanity and mine, to be carried softly and tenderly through this world, that we might regard our neighbors with that same tenderness. With the delight of Easter Sunday still in the air, I wish you a wonderful week. ~ peace & prayers, pastor annette April 15, 2025
Beloved: Holy Week - like a play we act out to remember what we say we believe. Palm Sunday was precious, with little kids skipping around the sanctuary waving their palms. Later in the day I attended a Pesach ~ Passover ~ celebration at Congregation Beth Shalom, where little kids sang a song about the frogs who jumped in Pharaoh's bed and they jumped on Pharaoh’s head . . . . hopping around Rabbi Noach’s feet while he played the guitar and sang with them. Again, totally precious. Their service was a joyful occasion with much singing, laughter and food, yet tempered by the memory of so many who suffered and still suffer in want of liberation and full human dignity. Our own next service is Friday at 7:30 ~ the service of tenebrae, or service of darkness ~ marking Jesus’ last Passover with his disciples and what happens through that long night and next day, the next to the last act of his incarnation. It matters to remember ~ to act out the scenes and recite the words ~ the very heart of our faith ~ over and over, to teach them to our children so that faith stays active within and among us. I hope you will join us for both gatherings this weekend ~ Good Friday Service at 7:30 pm and our Easter Feast at 9:30 am on Sunday, followed by Worship at 10:45. What a joy to be together for our highest holy days of the year! ~ peace & prayers, pastor annette
April 8, 2025
Beloved: The weather shift had "Sun’s up . . . looks okay" running through my head which made me need to find the rest of the lyrics again and as soon as I saw them I remembered them all. From an album I listened to all the time decades ago, and could have been written for these days. The sun is up for the second day in a row, thank goodness, because if the ground doesn’t dry out soon, we’re going to need some goats to cut this grass. The yard behind the church is more duck pond than lawn. The baby irises I planted a year ago apparently love it, as they are already bigger than they got all last season. Everything is just so alive in the springtime, if only I have the eyes to see it and the stillness to pay attention. I’m not always good at lifting my eyes from the news of the world to the reality of the springtime before my very senses. I’m awfully good at dark thoughts or moods in the sweetest of moments. Why read the news when the sunshine begs out the door? Maybe that’s why the old lyrics nagged me this morning, a poem in which dark moments ~ young men marching, helmets shining in the sun . . . Polished as precise like the brain behind the gun ~ are embedded in a lilting melody always driving toward the words eternity and ecstasy. If I am fearful of things I cannot change - if I refuse to be nourished, comforted and encouraged by the truth I claim in my faith and experience in the light and air just outside my door ~ that’s on me. God knows it is not easy ~ on days the rain seems it will never end, and sometimes on perfect days like today. But not easy can be sung in a gentle voice, calling us a step or two outdoors, maybe for just a look around the yard to see what’s changed lately, to discover how very loved we are to be so blessed with a gift as lovely as springtime. ~ peace & prayers, pastor annette Listen to the song ~ Wondering Where The Lions Are April 1, 2025 Beloved: Sunday’s storm took out our church sign, bless its heart, after 33 years of faithful service. I remember watching the masons set the stones on either side of it, more than half my life ago. Sometimes it seems like my life has changed more in the last two years than in all the thirty-three years prior. Maybe because those changes were expected while the more recent were a surprise. Change is measured in gains and losses, naturally, and the losses are by no means small. Strangely, they come upon me sharpest when I’m driving, nowhere in particular ~ to church, the store, the library. I tend the grief as best I can and then it folds back into its hiding place when I kill the engine. The gains are the surprising bit. I could never have predicted a ![]() world who never met me waiting to receive me with such gentle kindness. So as my Birdygirl and I loop the blocks of this little neighborhood, I give thanks for the soft landing it has been. We have friends here, folks who gather to share joys and sorrow, meals and conversation. I have been welcomed and taken in, checked on and looked after in all the best way neighbors do. I found a home I did not expect to find and I am grateful for it every day. The church sign’s next life might be as somebody’s firewood, or compost into mulch. In the meantime we will come up with something new, maybe something that lasts until I’m 94! While it stands we’ll face what storms come, and be ever-so-grateful for all the ordinary days in between. I pray this Lenten season finds you in reflection of the goodness and the grief with which we all contend, and grateful for the faith that makes us able. ~ peace & prayers, pastor annette |
I write a Tuesday morning devotional to members and friends of UBC. It is also posted here.
Enjoy! Pastor Annette Copyright
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April 2025
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