Two Kinds of Normal

 Feb 4, 2025

Beloved ~ 
          Every morning I walk through my little house, clicking on grow lights and opening the curtains and every evening I do the same only in reverse, marking the passage of another day in the list of days that constitute a life.  Yesterday I tidied up and took care of my baby grandson.  I worked on my taxes and went to an appointment with my lawyer to sign all my estate documents.** After my therapy appointment I made supper and washed the dishes.  For the rest of the evening I cut fabric scraps into 3” squares for a new quilt I’m starting.  
          My favorite days are the ordinary ones, filled with the ordinary activities of work and home, caring for others and myself.  Days absent of drama, trauma, violence or new grief in my tribe and neighborhood. And yet, I don’t want to entirely remove myself from a world where others are suffering or afraid.  I feel deeply called to share the kindness and joy of Jesus’ love with them, and to work for justice on their behalf, insofar as I am able.  Sharing life together with them is as essential to my own wholeness as caring for myself and my own kids and grandkids. 
          Then I pick up the paper (my phone) and watch a video article of a family returning to their home in northern Gaza after 16 months as refugees in the south. The head of family was a 21-year-old university student and several children she was caring for, siblings, nieces and nephews.  They had to pay all their money for transportation and still walked the last 10 kilometers (6 miles) carrying their luggage. Over 6 hours of walking, to find their home and neighborhood demolished.  Their father was waiting on them.   Looking over her neighborhood, the student said, “I want to live somewhere colorful again, far from the color of rubble and the smell of blood.”    And my heart aches with the distance between our two realities, the calamity and the calm, between her normal and mine.  Short of giving money I cannot think of a single thing I can do to make her life more colorful. Yet, it matters that I think of her and that she knows others wish her joy, and peace and safety and comfort.  
          While I cannot be of much effect in Gaza these days, closer opportunities abound.  The world’s deep hunger is here and now, in my own community and neighborhood, and somehow in the mystery of the universe I believe it matters in Gaza what I do in my own neighborhood.  It matters in the realm of God that faithful people everywhere are exercising their calling, their vocation, on behalf of the hungering world.  It matters to all the hungering people that all the helping people are doing the best we can with what we have.  And it matters, most of all, to remember that the division between the hungry and the helping peoples is not absolute.  Not by any means.  The young woman in the news story has been head of household in very difficult circumstances for months.  She’s the helper, even as her whole family is so desperately hungry for safety and justice.  God knows I’ve been a puddle of neediness for the better part of three years now, which is why I am content on days that are positively boring and ordinary.    
          I suppose this is enough for an ordinary Tuesday.  I pray you get outside and feel this gentle air, see if your daffodils are popping through yet.  Offer kindness if you're able.  Take some if it’s offered.  ~peace & prayers, pastor annette


*Frederick Buechner, Wishful Thinking, 1973. p.95
**I cannot encourage you strongly enough to get your end of life decisions made and notarized, for your own peace of mind and for the loved ones who need to know your wishes.  Everyone’s needs are different and your attorney will help you figure out what’s best for you.  My particular set of estate planning documents consists of: 

•  Will
• Durable Power of Attorney
• Healthcare Directive
• Transfer of Deed Upon Death