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: I am so excited about an event we are hosting Sunday evening, November 12th. It’s called “Shattering Masks: breaking barriers & healing hurts between faith communities and LGBTQ people.” People I admire lots, Laura Beth Taylor and Lucas Allen, will share and sing about their own experiences, and I’m doing a bit I call “Ain’t No Hurt Like Church Hurt.” We’re publicizing it everywhere with the hope of gathering a community of folks who are curious about
You need to hear Laura Beth’s story. If you can’t come to the program (or even if you can!), read her book, Shattering Masks; Affirming Identity, Transitioning Faith. You’ll be the better for it. Lucas is a local pastor, craftsman and musician with a story to tell. My only publication is a mittens knitting pattern, but I have also sat with many, many LGBTQ young adults who found far more grace and kindness outside the church than within. Their stories break my heart and call me to be a better minister. From them I have learned that it is impossible to obey Jesus and push people out of church. But when we love them, welcome them, and receive the gifts they bring, all of us are better for it. The harm caused in the name of Jesus can be repaired, if we are willing to listen. No doubt it will take extra brave hearts for those who have been hurt to attend on November 12. I’m praying for them now. Even if they cannot come through the door this time, may our words and plans for the day be faithful, graceful and kind. ~ peace & prayers, pastor annette
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Beloved:
This is as insufficient a thank-you note as ever was written and yet, thank you from the bottom of my heart for the privilege of these years among you and the invitation to practice this calling called ministry. I was home and in my sweatpants before I came down enough to be embarrassed by the avalanche of gifts and kindnesses poured upon me last Sunday to mark my first twenty-five years on staff at UBC. I can’t name names without leaving someone out, so thank you to everyone who wrote and planned and advertised and organized and cooked and decorated to make such a day come together. To friends all over the country who sent video and letters, I am working through them slowly, and the memories they spark wash my heart with joy. Thanks to family who came from Cincinnati, Louisville, Franklin and Bedford to be with Carl and me too. It means everything to me that you are proud of me. You are my home. I wonder if everyone I knew in seminary still loves ministry as much as I do? If so, I expect it has something to do with the people with whom they are lucky enough to serve. Not one of them has been as lucky as me. For no particular reason I can imagine, the Lord has ever so kind and generous toward me in placing me among the likes of you. Though maybe it’s less to do that what we’ve done than what we are being prepared to do. These blessings may not be reward but groundwork for the work to come. If anything has become clear to me since Sunday, it’s that we are a community unlike any other, a community for which other people hunger. Maybe it’s time we began to feed them. I’m grateful to be in the kitchen with you all. ~ peace & prayers, pastor annette ![]() Beloved: Every year, usually in November, I remember a lyric by singer Cheryl Wheeler about how winter is really the warmest season. I remembered it this morning when the heat came on to make my house smell toasty wonderful. Tazo Earl Grey tea is my current favorite morning drink. I love being back in socks and sweaters, and I keep wanting to eat soup. I love the squash one at Panera, and I made one at home that’s also good (see recipe below). Warm is the measure for so many things we consider necessary. Warmer, safer, drier is the goal of Appalachian Service Project, my husband’s yearly summer mission trip with the Methodists in town. Warm relations between countries, warm conversation, warm receptions, warm puppies, warm glow, warm colors, warm bread, warm cookies. . . warm is almost always better than not. Too hot is terrible, of course, and too cold is not good either. Warm is what we are after, and I think I maybe might know why. I had an uncle who teased his wife she was the only cook who could burn things by cooking them on low forever -- because she loved to visit more than she liked to cook. She’d turn down the stove to go gossip with her sisters, then run back to the kitchen in the nick of time. Warm takes slow and steady tending from the beginning to the end, in recipes, relationships, and warmer, safer, drier houses too. Making soup is a good practice at tending. And prayer. Definitely prayer, going back and back and back again to that same relationship for everything we need to tend everything else that needs our hands and hearts these days. May the day find you tending things that matter. ~ peace & prayers, pastor annette Creamy Roasted Tomato Basil Soup I used frozen garden tomatoes and basil for both and it still worked. Thaw frozen tomatoes and squeeze out most of the water before roasting for best effect. Also I didn’t strain my soup so it was seedy and a bit pithy, which I chose to think of asrustic. In the broiler I made cheesy bread from leftover hamburger buns with grated parmesan and sundried tomato/oregano herb on top. It was yummy. Good on pasta too, I bet. Ingredients
If the noise inside my head took a lesson from my house, would I drown inside the silence? If time inside my heart moved as slowly as the kitchen clock, would bedtime ever come? Beloved:
Yesterday, for the first day in forever, I didn’t leave my house all day. The chickens roamed the yard and woods while I puttered around my kitchen, sewing, laundry rooms. I put my phone away and kept the TV off. My dogs barked at the vacuum cleaner, but otherwise the house was quiet as a painting hour upon hour. It’s a work-mostly-at-home-day today. Lots of email-reading-writing things to do and then some visits in late afternoon. Socks and pajamas induce much creativity, or so I’m told. By whom I don’t quite remember. Someone without an office, I expect, or an extra busy one. It isn’t lost on me what a privileged life I have for such choices to be mine: go to work in a low-stress office or at home in a cozy chair. To describe either choice as work is itself a bit exaggerated, not because it isn’t hard some days – but it’s hardly grueling. I don’t scrub other people’s floors for $8 an hour. . . . . . for work to do and the privilege of participating in the gospel in this time and place, we give Thee thanks, O God. Amen. ~ peace & prayers, pastor annette ![]() Beloved: I put up another twelve pounds of tomatoes yesterday. I gave away a bagful, made a pot of chili and threw the worst ones to the chickens. I am still picking them every couple of days, and I only have 8 plants! They are taller than me and look terrible now, but the fruit is still ripening beautifully. The deer have had their fill, and only rarely do I find one with raccoon teeth marks. It’s as if the whole forest has pushed back from the table and said, “I’m done.” My red sedum and lavender are full on. Japanese anemones are beginning to fade, but some things revive a bit in this cooler weather. A tiny wisteria flower will open here and there. And a clematis. The hosta is burned up. The hydrangeas are brittle, but pretty in a different way. Solomon’s Seal looks like it was never anything at all, but will cover twice as much ground next spring as now. I’ve a box of bulbs to plant, but when depends on how my yard man’s soccer team does in Sectionals. He’s dressing for varsity this year, so my bulbs can wait. Though lighter than three weeks ago, I still have morning traffic at the hummingbird feeders every day. The seed feeders are always busy. The chipmunks have proved my need of another cat before next summer, and I’ve heard there’s a kind of backdoor trade for outdoor cats. Sort of a black market for cats too wild to be adopted from the shelter. I like the idea of bringing one of those boys home -- and Simba would approve, I think. I’ve thanked him twice a week all summer for work I never knew he did. All of which is to say that fall gardening has its own delights. I am thankful for the long and fruitful season and look forward to the rest of winter. I’d love lots and lots of snow to freeze the bulbs and soak the ground before we start again six months from now. ~ 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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February 2025
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