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 |
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July 8, 2025 Beloved: In this past Sunday’s sermon, I read a good portion of the sermon found at the following link, composed and preached by Reverend Juan Garcia. I share his concerns about the very present threat to our own religious liberty and the human rights of our neighbors these days, which is why I relayed his sermon on Sunday and here. I welcome your feedback. https://cbf.net/outgoing-cbf-moderator-calls-cooperative-baptists-to-faithful-dissent-in-address-to-general-assembly/. In other news, the baby grandson sneezed in my face and gave me his snotty summer cold. The only time he slows down is when we get him in a headlock to wipe his goopy nose, while all I want to do is go lay my achy head on a cool pillowcase. Good thing I like him. Isn’t it so hard to slow down, to behave as if the world might suffer hardship if we take a nap when we have a headache? Were we really meant - designed - to work this hard, to stay this busy all the time? Even when we are sick … if only a little bit sick … sick enough to fantasize about taking a teeny tiny nap before lunch time. (My grandson is probably down for his first nap, and he’ll probably get better faster than I do!) Maybe it’s my mother’s voice I hear echoing in my head, the one that said unless I had a fever I had to go to school. My sister didn’t miss a day of school until she got strep throat in junior high. She had chicken pox over Christmas break! I still hardly ever get a fever. I broke my leg but didn’t miss a Sunday preaching. She and my dad were teaching me to work hard, my mother, and I’m grateful to her for that every day. But I also wish she would have given herself a break sometimes, let herself have a day off from three babies born inside thirty months. Before disposable diapers and central air conditioning were things! I have no childhood memory of ever seeing her sick, ever knowing her to take a nap. She was a good mother who did not intend to teach me that mothers don’t get sick or tired. Yet I breathed in that lesson and struggle now to breathe it out, to let it go in favor of more gentle ones like The Lord is my shepherd, I shall not want. He makes me lie down in green pastures; he leads me beside still waters; he restores my soul. ~ Psalm 23:1-3 Birdy the golden girl is asleep at my feet as I type, three hours into the fifteen she sleeps out of every 24. Not unlike a ten-month-old grandbaby. Both live close to their own bodily design, offering us a lesson we might choose, should we have the courage to leave laundry unfolded and emails unanswered . . . to rest even when the sun shines.
The air is joyfully mild today, so I hope we all get a little time outdoors. Much love from my house to yours. ~peace & prayers, pastor annette
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July 1, 2025
Beloved: My first lavender harvest of the year, from smaller plants the bumble bees are no longer working. They are still swarming my lavender phenom dawn to dusk, with occasional runs to other flowers in my yard, but the lavender seems to be their main source of pollen. Their tiny butts and legs are coated in the purple dust. I trimmed the finished plants back to a few inches above wood, as the video instructed and carried in a tray-full of flowers. It took almost three hours to strip and trim every stem. Tonight I’ll bundle, tie, then hang them in my attic to dry. My kitchen smells so, so good. Gardening calms me down like nothing else. What some find tedious quiets my mind and narrows my focus to a tiny patch of dirt, so that what is happening there is all that is happening in the world, at least for a moment. Busy bugs and wiggly worms about their humifying business give me cause for hope in the Creator who keeps creation spinning just outside our usual sightline. Gardening also makes me tired, not from mental fatigue but from the up and down to the ground, all that bending over and carrying the rainwater I collect in buckets. Dragging water hoses, gathering limbs and sweeping up the driveway, again. All of it counts as exercise, which the doctor says is no longer a choice if I want to live a long time. I want to live a long, long time. The best is taking a bedtime shower to scrub away the dirt and cool the itchy skin, to slide into sheets all clean and tired, like when I was a little kid in summer pajamas my mom made. Clean and tired sleep is the best sleep in summertime. The weather is the best it’s been in two weeks. I hope you can get outside. ~peace & prayers, pastor annette Recipe: The Chicken Salad I’ve Been Making Lately
June 24, 2025
Beloved: Had I known the Cubs were playing the Cardinals in St. Louis this week, I might have rethought attending the Cooperative Baptist General Assembly here. At breakfast in my hotel lobby this morning I felt a little like I’d fallen into a cult. These folks not only attend baseball games, they wear their teams head to toe and talk baseball nonstop! But, of course, there are too many Baptists in this place for me to get too judgy about people’s weird allegiances. I’ve been attending this meeting every few years for three decades now. My seminary professors who used to come have all retired now, as have a good many of my contemporaries. Most everyone here is younger than me. The group is far more diverse, by race as well as gender. Baptist women pastors are a dime a dozen rather than the needle in a haystack bushel when I was coming up. From the don’t-ask-don’t-tell recommendations around LGBTIA+ inclusion just a few years ago ~ there's a table full of rainbow swag and information about becoming a welcoming and affirming church. Other changes are less heartening. Money has grown tighter than ever. The primary goal of CBF is to send and support global mission work. Fewer missionaries, all of whom must raise their own program money, is the most dramatic change of practice in the years I’ve been attending. One of their fundraising venues here is a marketplace where they sell fair trade goods from their respective countries. You know I love a chance to shop and serve simultaneously. Let me know if you need any jewelry, toys, housewares, etc and I’ll be your personal shopper too. Heat advisories are everywhere in the midwest. I for one will not be among the Baptists at Busch Stadium, in case you were wondering. I will be in the a/c knitting or reading or shop-talking with other preachers. Take care and I’ll see you next week when I am back. ~ peace & prayers, pastor annette   June 17, 2025
Beloved: The recipe picture shows four servings while the instructions promised six. Hmmm, I went with four, thinking I’d give one to my neighbor. That is, until I mistook the black vinegar for vanilla extract and ruined half of everything in the mixing bowl. I scooped out what I could and added lots more yogurt and a few extra drops of honey - but it still had too weird an aftertaste to share with someone else. So now I have to eat all four, as I’m way too cheap to throw it out. And so it goes, don’t you know? Vanilla extract can pass for black vinegar, so long as the jar lid stays on. But mix up their respective destinations and the results are . . . disappointing. Small errors, small lessons on the necessity of paying good attention to what I’m doing at the moment. The most organized pantry is of no use when I ignore my own labels. Labor altogether wasted if my head and hands aren’t in the same place and time. Not just cooking. Not usually cooking. But at my desk and in my car, worst of all in conversation with people I genuinely care about, I am prone to let my mind roam somewhere other than their living, breathing presence with me here and now. Such foolishness is hard to comprehend really, given what I know about time’s swiftness. I pray to attend to the sweetness of this life as closely as I can, repairing recipes and relationships as I go. We’ve another rainy summer day in Bloomington to enjoy. Peace & prayers to you wherever you are, whatever the skies there hold. ~pastor annette Greek Yogurt Chocolate Mousse
 VBS Set, designed by Emily Briggs - built from styrofoam, pool noodles, leftover paint and lots of volunteer love. June 10, 2025 Beloved: I’m wet and dirty at 9:45 am but my porch is scrubbed and the rug is drying on the driveway. The blanket of yellow pollen has been washed into the grass and hopefully by evening I can move everything back in and start to enjoy the summer, watching my feeders from my swing instead of through the window. It really was joyful work, mask and all, an hour of exercise in which to be grateful for this house where I am so at home. I had to get the porch done early because it’s Bible School week, don’t you know. We gather in the evening for songs and snacks and the story of Joseph’s journey from prison to a palace and how God was with him every moment. I’m the cook and general house manager, while church members (from three little churches in Bloomington!) run the better part. My granddaughter is the littlest of the 15 kids or so who attended; plus, the BIG kids who are helpers now raise our attendance to something like 20. We will wrap with a short VBS program and a potluck supper on Thursday at 6 pm. The potluck sign-up is linked below. Everyone is invited, whether you worked VBS this year or not. I hope you will come. “For I know the plans I have for you, God says, plans for good and not disaster, for a future and a hope.” ~ Jeremiah 29:11 Reworked slightly to make it easier for kids to memorize, this verse is one I surely need this summer ~ a future and a hope are not just churchy words to me these days, but a rock solid reality. I’m pretty old, in years at least, but I intend to get much older and to do a lot of living in this future of my intentions. I’ve no idea what this future looks like, except that it will be full of new experiences, new people and new joy . . . and that it has already begun. I have already turned toward it, now I am stepping into it with hope. I pray your summer is shaping up in ways you sense God’s goodness at work in it. You are so very dear to me. ~peace & prayers, pastor annette June 3, 2025
Beloved: Yesterday felt like real summer to me as I cleaned house and worked in my yard. I got sweaty and dirty as I scoured my bathrooms and planted perennials. I dragged hoses from bed to bed, splashing myself and the dog but drying out fast in the sunny air. By bedtime I was scrubbed clean and tired as a kid pretending he isn’t, then slept that deep, dreamless, delicious sleep that sometimes follows a day of good work. It’s no castle, for sure, but this little house does serve as a kind of citadel for me – a safe place from which to keep watch and view the landscape – a landscape that includes my tiny yard but also the larger world with all the calamity and wonder therein. Forest fires burn, wars rage and genocide by famine is justified. People are killed seeking food, according to the news, while government officials deny any such thing. If not for my porch swing, my flowers and my dog, my head truly would never stop spinning. But this quiet, peaceful beauty centers me and enables me to breathe and pray and be reminded that there is nothing new in this world, not since one brother picked up a weapon to destroy the other, for no better reason than jealousy. Human suffering is ghastly, and painful even for those observing from a distance. As followers of Jesus we are not free to ignore or deny such evil. We are allowed to care for ourselves in order to care for others, to draw strength from our own rest and prayers and meditation, so we are ready when our faith and courage is called into action. The victimized and suffering people of this world need people on their side who speak clearly and act boldly in defense of the truth of their humanity and the justice with which they must be treated. We may well be afraid, but we can still speak and act, trembling as we go. Suffering people need us too much for us to sit still when it comes time to move. Gratefully, I’ve landed among the best and bravest kind of community, with whom I am far less timid than I might be. As summer really gets going, I pray we will find our place in the work to which we are called. ~ peace & prayers, pastor annette A few folks asked for the corn cake recipe from last week’s Wednesday Night Supper. Here it is. Recipe ~ Sweet Corn Cake Ingredients
May 27, 2025
Beloved: My favorite month (weather-wise) is very nearly over and it has been practically perfect in every way - save the EF-2 that whizzed far too close to my neighborhood on the 17th. The air is still so mild and no mosquitoes yet. My flowerbeds are coming along and the days are so, so looooooooong! Last night I sat outside with my neighbor until after 9. Positively delightful! But with June come other favorites, like hanging out with my granddaughter at the neighborhood pool. By the middle of last summer she’d turned into a little frog, leaping off the side all by herself, going underwater, paddling and kicking all around the shallow side in her watermelon life jacket. This year she’ll start swimming lessons and her baby brother will come with us. Also, and of course, Vacation Bible School! June 9-12, 6-8 PM every evening - with light supper at 5:30 for volunteers and their families. This year’s theme tracks the story of Joseph in ways kids will enjoy, but even more important than the story itself is the time spent with volunteers from three congregations – UBC, Red Door and, new this year, Sacred Heart Church – who love kids and are committed to building a healthy, loving church experience into their lives and memories. It’s some of the most important work we do and I love it. You can help by praying for the work, inviting families you know to attend, giving money to help pay for it (the estimated cost is $700) and by volunteering your time to help during the get-ready week (June 1-8), to make the VBS week a success (June 9-12) or to clean up and reset the church (June 15). Email us at [email protected] and we will get you in touch with our vbs director. Even a couple of hours or a few dollars helps. Then in July, I get to see my best friend of 41 years, and in August my newest grandbaby turns 1.* Every month has something to love, something to mark the gift it is to be alive, to belong to a community of good people, and to do good work that matters. I am grateful to live and work among the likes of you. ~peace & prayers, pastor annette *Picture above right – though they’ve lived together his whole 9-month life, the baby just now noticed Watson the dog, and they are pals.
May 20, 2025
Beloved: When, do you suppose, is a preacher most likely to discover a burst pipe at home? Sunday mornings, of course, around 7:30 am. When she walks into her closet and freezy cold water squishes from the carpet over her bare feet. I left the hose spigot on overnight, which wouldn’t have mattered except the pipe in the wall most likely froze and burst over the winter. I learned this by calling the plumber’s emergency number. I turned off the spigot right away and after church discovered wet carpet in the hallway and my second bedroom as well. I’ve had industrial fans running since, and along with open windows it’s starting to dry out. Trees got my regular plumber’s place in last week’s tornado, so they can’t come. Of the other three I called, only one called back and he’ll be here in a bit to fix the pipe. And I’ve ordered two of these, a $10 prevention of what I expect to cost twenty times that. Go figure. I guess I’m lucky it's the only time I’ve had a burst pipe in all the years I’ve been keeping house. Then there’s the privilege of having a house to keep in the first place, a roof over me, a door to close or open as I choose, a soft and warm bed to sleep in every night, a pantry full of good things to eat at any hour I choose. The only faithful response is good stewardship - sharing, not hoarding, also called hospitality, and caring for this tiny speck of planet as best I can. In her Crosswicks Journals, about the 200-year-old house she shared with her family in Connecticut, Madeleine L’Engle wrote, having a house is like having another child in that it is always begging for something. I try to remember her when my pipes burst or an appliance dies, or my living room floor is covered in crayons and paper, tea sets and books, dollhouse furniture and dolls . . . the remnants of such wealth I could not earn in three lifetimes. But I can sit lightly with the trouble, not grumbling too much about cost or inconvenience, even if I do keep stepping on wet carpet in my socks. The day is wet as a duck outside but hopefully this note finds you dry and warm.
May 13, 2025
Beloved: The nameplate outside the door said, Miss Hill ~ Grade 3, and yet I knew for sure I was dreaming of the future, not the past. The prior teacher had left me all her things so I wasn’t nervous except for how tiny my classroom was. As my students tumbled in, it got even smaller ~ but somehow also bigger. And happier. I shared an office with the teacher in the classroom next door. He was a quilter, of course. The dream only needed a garden and a golden retriever for my whole life to be covered! Our heads and hearts are so packed with memory and information, even our dreams cannot hold it all up to the light for us, but the dreams that show me the sweet parts make it worth waking up to this world again. Besides, it’s springtime in Indiana. Irises and pinies (peonies to you fancy people) are exploding and folks are getting in their gardens. I can hear a chipmunk chirruping as they rebuild their eleventy-hundredth nest inside the downspout by my study window while everything is blanketed in yellow pollen. I don’t deserve to be this happy. I have not been good enough nor done enough good to be as happy as such dreams prove I am. Such is grace – the gift of God and the capacity of people to receive the joy stitched into creation. Joy not manufactured by any human effort but exclusively divine, in origin and design. Ours is to notice and be grateful, to eat and drink at this table of grace, enough to be carried through the hard and scary parts of life in this world, back to the table again and again for a lifetime. And, maybe, now and then to sleep and dream of times and places as perfect as a third grade classroom full of kids and books and art projects hanging in a window. Bloomington may get a little more rain today, my new plants will drink it up, and my irises will sparkle all the more. I pray the day holds some perfection for you too. 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 |
I write a Tuesday morning devotional to members and friends of UBC. It is also posted here.
Enjoy! Pastor Annette Copyright
Everything on this site is licensed under a Creative Commons license, which gives you permission to copy freely, provided that you attribute the work to me, that you use the work for non-commercial purposes, and that you do not produce derivative works. Archives
September 2025
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