Pastor Annette's Blog
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"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 |
 October 29, 2024
Beloved: Bless you, Birdy! The dog sneezes so much this time of year I hardly hear it, not until the three-year-old blesses her so kindly. We were sitting on the porch eating popsicles yesterday, going over the day. She asked about my Halloween costume, suggesting I be a bat when I told her I wasn’t planning to dress up. She’s going as a spooky skeleton, spooky being her very favorite word these days. Spooky refers to cute bats and ghosts and witches, spiders, pumpkins and skeleton pajamas with glow-in-the-dark bones screen-printed on black fabric. Her life and her little brother’s is so safe and calm and gentle, a glorious bubble of childhood every little kid deserves and too few ever know. For no virtue on her part or her parents’ so much as the luck of being born when and where they were. The odds are entirely in their favor and yet, the very thought of something happening to them takes my breath away. Takes my breath away in a way that was not true when my own kids were little. Maybe I felt more in control then, or maybe I know better now just how awful some humans are toward other people’s children. The grandmothers of Gaza, Lebanon and Sudan. Grandmothers whose children and grandchildren are walking that terrible walk to the U.S. border, hoping against hope to be received. Grandmothers who are raising their grandkids with too little strength, in too small a space, on too tight a budget – because for whatever reason their kids are just not able to parent. I wish E. and R. could be little for longer, that this idyllic time of innocence could last and last. But I suppose those are the wishes of the privileged, that such innocence is itself a form of privilege. Hungry kids are not innocent. Kids whose families are hiding or on the run are not innocent of the meanness of this world. The best that we can do is do right by every kid we can, to love the ones we’re with and work for justice on behalf of all of them insofar as we are able. I’m headed outside for a walk in this delightfully breezy autumn. I pray the day is kind to you, and you have the chance to bless another creature. ~ peace & prayers, pastor annette
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October 15, 2024 Beloved: I pick up my granddaughter at pre-school on Mondays. Yesterday she was wearing classroom rainboots, and her own shoes were lost. We searched for a solid twenty minutes. At one point the entire class was hunting for them, and all the while one little guy was following me close as my own pant leg, chattering lost shoe scenarios in my ear. What if a ghost flew away with her shoes? What if they are on top of a car and we have to find a ladder to get them down? What if they got in Bailey’s cage and she ate them? (Bailey is the classroom rabbit.) Between ideas he would shriek with delight at his own hilarity. A teacher finally located the lost shoes outside in a playground wagon. E. got changed and signed out for the day, like a worker clocking out, and we headed to the car, off to other adventures. Time stands still in some places. My kids attended preschool in that same school, that same room, that same teacher. E.’s classmates look just like the kids that were there 23 years ago, two feet tall and the stock photo epitome of human diversity, right down to the chatty boy with the spiky black hair. Only this is for real, a living community sharing space peacefully, helping each other when the need arises. It’s busy but not chaotic, noisy but not loud. Conflict is managed directly, clearly, wisely, gently, firmly. Am I just now grasping Tolkien’s meaning of the Shire, that land of little souls where time also practically stands still? Where snacks and naps are serious business, as serious as art and reading and caring for creatures even littler than themselves? Seventy years gone by outside those walls has not corrupted the pace and wisdom still persisting within them. What a privilege to pass through them again in this second half of life. I pray to be a better student this time around. The light and air today are glorious. I pray you get outside for a little while. ~ peace & prayers, pastor annette * I’ll be on vacation next week, attending my favorite quilt retreat at the Presbyterian church camp in Brownstown, Indiana. * The Recipe: I made this last night, a final taste of summer as the tomatoes and herbs were the last from this year’s garden, my last jar of pesto from last summer, and eggs from a friend’s chickens. I forgot to take a picture of mine; this one is from the paper, with tomatoes cut differently. HEIRLOOM TOMATO TART Vallery Lomas, NYT Cooking  Heirloom Tomato Tart; Vallery Lomas, NYT Cooking Ingredients
October 9, 2024
Beloved: Today is my first day to dress in a sweater and socks. I almost turned on the heat but decided I can wait at least one more day. Now that the light is gone so much earlier, knitting, sewing and puzzles keep my hands busy when my brain is too tired to read. My garden is going to sleep anyway. While every plant around her is crackling dry, one bearded yellow iris has her silky second bloom. Yesterday I washed and put away the hummingbird feeders, and raccoons are nightly raiding my last two tomato plants. There’s nothing left to do but some cleanup after the first hard frost. I love fall and winter too, cozy being one of the best words I know. Instead of bingeing on tv or social media, I find a YouTube fireplace in some pretty mountain cabin, the next best thing to a real fire.* Next best thing – there’s a phrase, don't you know: the attempt to recover something lost, or to be satisfied with some lesser version of what we really want. I fall into the habit half a dozen times a day, then remember this new life is precisely that – new – and there are at least a half a dozen new ways to do it. There is no particular way life or faith must be done to add up as faithful; but, how old habits seek to convince me otherwise! I sometimes wonder if what I call anxiety is actually their pulling against my heart’s readiness to change, to move into this new life before me. Could be it’s just the changing of the seasons pulling at me now, as I look out the window where my hummingbird feeder was all summer. I’ll hang some suet instead. The tiny, achy sadness is more pleasant than not, knowing that soon it will be so very, very cozy indoors, with lots of projects and books and recipes to work on. In the midst of all of it, welcoming the change of another year of new life folded within a whole life of being loved, healed and sustained by the Spirit of the Christ who deemed us beloved – a picture of this life I may spend the rest of my life trying to comprehend. I pray this gorgeous day** is kind to you and you are kind in it. ~ peace & prayers, pastor annette * I enjoy this feature of YouTube so much. There are probably hundreds of similar videos with lots of scenery and scenes. It’s very good for my mental health. ** Many prayers for neighbors in central Florida enduring Hurricane Milton today. Danger and damage is expected to be severe. October 1, 2024 Beloved: On Sunday we prayed for the mother of a Baptist minister in Tennessee. The mother was missing in the hurricane’s aftermath. Her body was identified later that same day, along with at least 130 other people known to have died in the storm. Many hundreds more are still unaccounted for and the devastation in Georgia, Tennessee and North Carolina is still hard to fathom, even as we see it before our eyes in the news stories. At the same time, the helpers are showing up like an army. The best thing I read this morning is this:
Folks figuring out what they can do with what they have to help neighbors in trouble. Further away, a war is widening, displacing more and more people, killing not a few, proving true the words of an American Civil War general, Ulysses Grant, that women and children always bear the greatest cost of war. We know about the bombed-out apartment buildings and schools. This morning's news carried a photo of a child sleeping in a car trunk, her family trying to get away from the violence. In Sudan people are dying of cholera and facing an unprecedented famine, because starvation has become a weapon of war. While here, on my tiny patch of planet, my heart hurts for all this suffering and I’ve no idea what I am supposed to do about it all. I could drive to Tennessee and show up at a feeding station I suppose, sans the mules of course, hoping not to be in the way of those who know what they’re doing. Or stay here and pray. And give. And keep my patch of planet tidy. And then pray some more, knowing it is no small thing to be in spiritual community with our neighbors who are struggling, grieving and afraid. I know well the power of distant community loving me by praying for me, by holding me in their heart when it’s hard for me to keep hope. This is the human experience, to be present in spirit when we cannot be together in the flesh, as the scriptures so often repeat. Maybe my ache to be present in body is more for my own relief than someone else’s, relief from the irritation of helplessness. For now I’ll stay put and pray, and leave the in-person helping to Mr. Toberer and the others who know what they’re doing. I’ll pick up sticks and snow shovel the 5000 ankle-breaking acorns and keep my bird feeders full. I’ll speak kindly to my neighbors, help the ones who let me help and receive what help they offer. I’ll do my best to hold prayerful space for people everywhere experiencing disasters of one kind or another. And finally, come Sunday I’ll attend this local vigil walk meant to convey our common hope for peace and healing in our community and the world. I’m grateful for its organizers and I hope you’ll come too. Details are below. The world is not all bad news, not by a long shot. But these are tough days for so many people close to us – it bears remembering our calling to bear witness to the loving presence of God, in word and in deed. I am grateful for your partnership in the work. ~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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