Tag: life

Activism, Advocate, Beauty of Nature, Bravery, Calling, Committment, Community, Community activism, Conflict, Courage, Dandelions, Faith, Fear, God, Grace, Holy Spirit, Hope, Injustice

Start Something! It’s Easy!

Rev Kathy



It is far easier to start something than it is to finish it.

—Mary Oliver

Easing my constant worry and tackling my fear feels to me like a full time job. No doubt, you have heard it said, “Aging is not for sissies!” I can personally confirm that, because in the process of aging, there are hundreds of things to worry about and fear! And these evil days present us with many opportunities for worry and fear, within us and without. I imagine that it would feel wonderful to live a peaceful existence, even in a world turned upside down. It is not that easy to accomplish. I’ve thought it through this presupposition multiple times, and have decided that what I need is indeed out of reach. I observe that most people look everywhere for the nurture they need. And many of us find it in the beauty of nature.

I still love watching one particular plant that nature gives us in over-abundance — the dandelion! Dandelions and their seeds do an amazing dance on the wind to scatter their seeds. The seeds don’t have a single worry. They won’t get hurt while in the air, and they experience no crash landings. They know for certain that they will always scatter. What a magnificent show they present because they are not hindered by worry or fear.

However, I am constantly frustrated over my never-ending worry and fear, those times when I miss the joy of seeing a finished product, wrapping things up, cleaning up my work space, putting. the items neatly in a storage box in a closet, and carefully wrap the ones that will wrinkle. I fold them gently in tissue paper to avoid creasing, and finally put all the projects out of my sight to be finished some other day. I try to put them away in a place I will remember, but I usually remember nothing about my unfinished projects. So I’ll probably never see them again!

My husband and I recently set our sights on cleaning and organizing a storage closet. As we pulled out boxes and plastic bags, I would usually notice the unfinished projects and say, “That would have looked so good in the dining room if I had ever finished it.” I did not finish this embroidered napkin. In fact, four of the unfinished napkins rested for years folded and hidden in the hall closet. 

I know exactly where my incomplete projects are—scattered among the closets in my house, always enticing me to finish them when I glance at one stored next to my sewing box. I have one caveat for you on this subject: it is not a bad idea to free your projects from imprisonment in the closets, because moving them out may also remove them from your weary shoulders. You see, even an unfinished napkin weighs something. Isn’t all the stuff we carry around on our shoulders just part of a heavy load we always have to carry?

Starting something really is easy, but the pathway from beginning something and then taking it to completion reveals challenges that test our resolve. I always begin projects with enthusiasm and optimism, filled with ideas and plans, but as obstacles arise, my motivation almost always wanes, my progress slows, and distractions multiply. In this environment, fear definitely thrives. But the projects stay on my shoulders as long as I remember them, and so the contrast between the initial excitement versus the realities of sustained effort calls for persistence and commitment. The tumultuous path from beginning to completion can cause me to become weary and quit, just to get the heavy pack of projects off my shoulders.

Of course, most of us can admit that in these days, one important example of our tumultuous path is the dismantling of our democracy. Of course, not everyone agrees about the severity of the situation, but I have to say that in my world, people are afraid, angry, despondent, disheartened . . . although some are elated. Let’s entertain this thought for a few minutes: when people are convinced that real danger is coming, they often gird themselves with “protective gear” (the Bible would say, “gird up your loins”) after which you can attack the stronghold that threatens you. We see an example of this in the protests and/or marches that are happening in cities and towns across the nation and around the world. Let me dare to say this in hopes that no person will take offense. The aim of those who dissent to the actions of the Trump administration are deeply concerned and afraid. Even people of faith are beginning to see this version of the world as something to fear. 

Today, as I write this post, I am thinking of so many people who live in fear: immigrants who are currently locked up like prisoners, children who have been separated from their parents, people who suddenly lose their jobs, thousands of immigrants being rounded up and deported, the community at-large as they lose some of their rights, and even the elected congressional leaders who are afraid of personal repercussions from Donald Tump. Afraid! All of them afraid!

“Here is the world. Beautiful and terrible things will happen.
Don’t be afraid.”

― Frederick Buechner, Beyond Words: Daily Readings in the ABC’s of Faith

You see, whether we support the relentless changes in our government or not, Mr. Trump is stoking fear among Americans as he dismantles institutions, agencies, and departments. Let me list some of them: The Department of Education, the Department of Health and Human Services, the Departments of Agriculture, Defense, Energy, Housing and Urban Development, and Transportation. And then there is the layoff of thousands of federal employees, the closing of USAID, and the indiscriminate and inhumane deportation of thousands of immigrants and immigrant U.S. citizens.

The question I ask myself over and over again is whether there is anything I can do to help end this destruction. Is it really true that starting something is easy? Not always! So what can I do to help change our trajectory. Am I kidding myself? What can one person with zero power do to end this? The answer is “nothing” every time I ask! Good intentions I may have in abundance, but the answer in my spirit does not change, “There is nothing one person can do. I have no power.”

Yet, for all of us who are people of faith, there is always an opportunity to live out our faith through our actions, and within a faith community. Perhaps we can make a significant change, together.

Jesus is our example, showing us how to heal destructive acts committed by power-hungry, destructive people. Jesus left us instructions, as did the prophets, the psalmist, and the epistle writers. Yet, we persist in believing the lie that we have no power. Contemplate these bits of wisdom:

Very truly, I tell you, the one who believes in me will also do the works that I do and, in fact, will do greater works than these      —John 14:12

When you give a banquet, invite the poor, the crippled, the lame, and the blind. And you will be blessed.     —Luke 14:12-14

When Jesus came to Nazareth . . . he went to the synagogue on the sabbath day, as was his custom. He stood up to read, and the scroll of the prophet Isaiah was given to him. He unrolled the scroll and found the place where it was written: ‘The Spirit of the Lord is upon me, because he has anointed me to bring good news to the poor. He has sent me to proclaim release to the captives and recovery of sight to the blind, to let the oppressed go free, to proclaim the year of the Lord’s favor.’      —Luke 4:16-19

But woe to you Pharisees! For you tithe mint and rue and herbs of all kinds, and neglect justice and the love of God.      —Luke 11:40

This is what the LORD Almighty said: ‘Administer true justice; show mercy and compassion to one another. Do not oppress the widow or the fatherless, the foreigner or the poor. Do not plot evil against each other.      —Zechariah 7:9-10

Defend the cause of the weak and the fatherless; maintain the rights of the poor and oppressed. Rescue the weak and needy; deliver them from the hand of the wicked.  —Psalm 82:2-4

He raises the poor from the dust and lifts the needy from the ash heap.   — Psalm 113:7

Speak up for those who cannot speak for themselves, for the rights of all who are destitute. Speak up and judge fairly; defend the rights of the poor and needy.  —Proverbs 31:8-9

Learn to do right; seek justice. Defend the oppressed. Take up the cause of the fatherless; plead the case of the widow.   —Isaiah 1:17

Loose the chains of injustice and untie the cords of the yoke, to set the oppressed free and break every yoke . . . share your food with the hungry and provide the poor wanderer with shelter— when you see the naked, clothe them.     —Isaiah 58:6-7

Do not neglect to show hospitality to strangers, for by doing that some have entertained angels without knowing it. Remember those who are in prison, as though you were in prison with them; those who are being tortured, as though you yourselves were being tortured. —Hebrews 13:1-3

Speak up for those who cannot speak for themselves, for the rights of all who are destitute. Speak up and judge fairly; defend the rights of the poor and needy.     —Proverbs 31:8-9

Defend the cause of the weak and the fatherless; maintain the rights of the poor and oppressed. Rescue the weak and needy; deliver them from the hand of the wicked.  —Psalm 82:2-4

Do not neglect to show hospitality to strangers, for by doing that some have entertained angels without knowing it. Remember those who are in prison, as though you were in prison with them; those who are being tortured, as though you yourselves were being tortured. —Hebrews 13:1-3

Speak up for those who cannot speak for themselves, for the rights of all who are destitute. Speak up and judge fairly; defend the rights of the poor and needy.     —Proverbs 31:8-9

Learn to do right; seek justice. Defend the oppressed. Take up the cause of the fatherless; plead the case of the widow.      —Isaiah 1:17

Loose the chains of injustice and untie the cords of the yoke, to set the oppressed free and break every yoke . . . share your food with the hungry and provide the poor wanderer with shelter— when you see the naked, clothe them.      —Isaiah 58:6-7

Defend the cause of the weak and the fatherless; maintain the rights of the poor and oppressed. Rescue the weak and needy; deliver them from the hand of the wicked.  —Psalm 82:2-4

“My commandment is this: Love each other as I have loved you.
Greater love has no one than this: to lay down one’s life for one’s friends.”

And we claim we have no power! Nothing is farther from the truth. It is not a new revelation that faith will be the holy impetus, the power, that pushes us into kindness, compassion, and love. This kind of kindness, compassion and love will inspire us to head into the rancor and division that currently seems to be having its way. I doubt we will ever see, in my lifetime, the completion of a more gentle and loving community of acceptance and compassion. I don’t believe we will all swing doors open instead of locking them.  I doubt we will complete the work that respects all humanity, but starting the task is easy, and important. As far as finishing the work we have chosen, maybe its “a roll of the dice” sort of thing, or a “stroke of luck,” or being in the right place at the right time. Perhaps it has more to do with being anointed by God to make change through care, compassion, and even anger. 

So I will look for you on the streets as you lead the people to the arc of justice. I will listen for your voice when you are proclaiming the evils of injustice on every corner! I will join in your song that celebrates a new day of peace, love and compassion. I will sense your sacred time of reaching out to God in prayer and lament. I will celebrate when your anger turns into righteous anger that defends the people among us who need protection.

In the end, I believe that starting something really is easy, especially if I take the tender path. Following in the footsteps of our Creator God, walking like Jesus among multitudes of people while offering them gifts of faith, hope and grace.

But I must wait until the Spirit wind carries me up into the breeze. Yes, it is a bit like the dandelions who gently blow here and there. I believe it’s true that starting something is easy, but finishing it is not! I believe that the Spirit will move us. I believe that we have in us all the power we need. I believe that the God who called us will sustain us.

We can start one of two ways. We can fight in anger, motivated by our rage, and risk completely destroying something we are trying to fix. We can do it through sheer human strength and force, knowing we have the power to succeed. Or we can try the better way: the tender way that leads us to solitude, meditation and prayer, and reminds us of dandelions letting go of their seeds. I think that being committed to become part of needed change is holy work. God has anointed us to confront the wrong; Jesus gives us the gift of his example of walking a sacred path; the Spirit gives us the wind to go where we need to be. Can you see yourself looking almost like a dandelion blowing its seeds about in a soft breeze? I can see it!


A woman of sacred worth, Becoming, Beginning again, Bravery, Calling, Change, Children, Committment, Courage, Creating, Dreams, Freedom, God’s beloved daughter, I am enough!, Inner peace, life, Living in the soul, Miracles, Repair the world, Rev. Kathy Manis Findley, Self-understanding, Spirit wind, Tears, Tikkun Olam, Valued by God

Living an Unapologetic Life

Rev Kathy

Embracing Self-Authenticity and Making History

Art: “Well-behaved Women” by Kathy Manis Findley


Rev. Kathy Manis Findley
July 27, 2024

Did You Ever Dream of Changing the World?

You have probably had that kind of dream at a few junctures on your journey. I know I had many dreams along the way. Sometimes they scared me to death. I dreamed of peace, equality, freedom, changing the world, and many other huge and noble dreams. I dreamed some silly dreams, too! I soon got the hint: changing the world is a formidable task. I followed all the rules, but being a rule-keeper does not make a person effective in dreaming and imagining. Women who follow the rules (someone else made up) could correctly be called well-behaved. They might even be called good girls because they don’t cause much of a flurry. They typically don’t make history and they certainly don’t change the world.

What Does a Woman who Does’nt Behave Look Like?

A woman with less-than-good behavior looks like someone at peace with herself, someone who radiates hope, someone with the courage and determination to do justice. I have admired and emulated so many examples of women who did make history, women who were not well-behaved at all. Here are only a few: Rosa Parks, Harriet Tubman, Lucretia Coffin Mott, Sojourner Truth, Susan B. Anthony, Nancy Sehested, Elizabeth Cody Stanton, Prathia Hall, Julian of Norwich, Malala Yousafzai, Mother Theresa of Calcutta, Ann Hasseltine Judson, Lucy Stone, and so many others!

Becoming a “Bad Girl”

About 24 years ago, a chaplain colleague recommended a book to me: Goodbye Good Girl: Letting Go of the Rules and Taking Back Your Self by Eileen M. Clegg. I think my chaplain friend was suggesting that I should get out of my comfort zone and take some risks, that I should courageously follow God’s call on my life. I knew that the members and churches of my denomination would “throw a fit,” like we say in the south! After all, I was an ordained minister serving as a hospital chaplain, which placed risky challenges before me every day.

Reading for Transformation

So I read the book immediately and set out to become a bad girl, a girl who fully intended to change the world and to make history for it! So far, I have not made history. I have not managed to put my name in lights. I have not started any big public movements. But I have done some things that matter! I have learned how to create sacred space; I have learned the depth of liberation theology; I have found enough grace to endure the consequences of being a “bad girl” and then a woman with questionable behavior; I have held off anyone who tried to tell me who I am; and I have called up the courage to fight for justice. Colleagues, friends, family, co-workers reacted to the change in me, since they never expected me to dissent, or disagree, or refuse to behave.

Becoming a Catalyst for Change

Suddenly I let go of my “good girl” image and basically said “goodbye” to my restrictive behaviors. I took back my life, put aside all the rules, and followed my soul. I watched for the winds of the Spirit to lead me, and I moved forward to all the places that needed some attention. I was able to help change unjust systems, unjust policies, and unjust processes by not being so well-behaved.

Becoming Your Authentic Self

Still, I sometimes think I have reached an uneasy place when it comes to letting go of my “good girl” persona. I’m really not a “good girl” and I don’t think I ever have been. My parents had to endure the sassy exclamations of my toddler years, like “Nobody’s the boss of me!” Creating shock from those who knew me, I mostly remained a “bad girl” from that day to this. I set aside the rules that were designed to keep people down and I took back my life. Today—in my mid-seventies—I continue to spew out uncommon proclamations that are quite annoying to those who are determined to hold on to their power and resist change.

Embracing Change is Hard

Truly, it was sometimes hard being a change-maker and a rule-keeper! Always a people pleaser. Always the ultimate perfectionist. I discovered along the way that sometimes rule-keeping, people pleasing, and keeping every little thing “perfect” can harm your inner core. In fact, it’s less risky when you follow the leaders, make sure everyone is pleased, and doing everything with glowing perfection. Stepping out of line is always a bit dangerous.

Being Resolute and Unmovable

When you become exactly who you are, resolute and unmovable about the things that matter to you, you will raise a few eyebrows, and sometimes people will get angry with you . You see, those people expected something else from you. Each of us becomes “me”— the “real me”— at our own peril. In a sense, we have to fight for the right to be ourselves in the world.

It is true that the people around me reacted strongly when I took back my life and became fully invested in my destiny. They thought that I had become radical, maybe even unhinged. I did not respond appropriately to their demands. To unreasonable demands, this is essentially how I might have responded, sometimes out loud, sometimes under my breath . . .

I will do it. / It’s my right! / It’s my choice! / It’s my prerogative! / It’s my decision! / I’m doing it anyway. / You can’t stop me! / Just watch!

You Are Not Enough!

All the while, I felt uncomfortable because of so much disdain from others, who began sending me a new message, You are not enough! I Imagine that many of you have heard someone say to you, You are not enough. At least, we may imagine someone saying those hurtful words. Unfortunately, we believe it because we don’t know ourselves, meaning we don’t know our bright and dark places, we have not yet realized our sacred worth, and we have not yet searched our souls.

Perilous for My Soul

For you see, you and I are afraid because it is perilous for the soul when we don’t search diligently for our soul’s passions and dreams. You and I sometimes accept what others say about us and tuck it away in our deepest places. When those words sneak all the way down into the soul, we tend to give up. We start from the moment we make ourselves nonchalant about it all, that moment when we shield our hearts from hurt. One of the saddest phrases we use is “I don’t care.” When we no longer care, we begin, one by one, eliminating the people around us, never realizing that they are hurting, too. And maybe the reason they send the message, You are not enough, is because they believe that they are not enough either.

The Hazard of Other Voices

I can honestly say that I have often heard voices—known voices, unknown voices, and the weak little voice in my head—telling me, You are not enough! I have learned that once I have embodied that negative message, it rolls around in my psyche for a long time, maybe forever. It becomes a state of being that goes deeper than skin. It penetrates in deeper places, and takes its toll on my emotional and physical well-being. I recall many such times, none more painful than the wagging tongues around my ordination . . . You know the scenario, “She can’t be a minister because she is a woman! Anyway, she’s not good enough! Other voices are often hazardous, dangerously breaking down our sense of self-worth. They may be yelling, speaking in a normal tone, whispering, or imagined in our heads. In response, we must prepare ourselves to hear the voice above all voices, saying, “You are my beloved daughter with whom I am well pleased.”

Embody—What Does It Mean?

For a long time, I embodied the traits of the good girl, but to embody good girl traits is not really a once-and-done action. Embodied lasts a while! Embody does not have a shallow or surface meaning. It is deeper. I like the word embody. It seems to suggest that we can live a soulful life. In the very middle of the Greek word for “embody” we find the word σώμα, which means body. However, the Greek word for body cannot be translated in a way that reveals the depth of its meaning. The definition of σώμα is deeper than we realize. It is not skin-deep, it is deeper, approaching a definition more like soul.

Touching My Soul

I do like the word embody and the word soul. In some ways, to embody means to live in your soul. The word embody may whisper to you that in your body’s center, you will find the path to reach your soul. A person who lives in the soul is a person that does not live a shallow life, devoid of the emotion that makes us alive. The soul will help you, if you can just start by daring to touch it.

How Do I Do It?—Live in My Soul, Change the World. . .

So what are the things we can actually do to take back our lives and live soulfully? What path do we follow to transform ourselves and change the world? My initial response to that is, “I don’t know.” Not very comforting, I know, but mostly true. We cannot forge the path for any other person. We cannot know what’s best for them. So not knowing anyones path, nor their dreams, I can give you a list of things others are finding the leads to their transformation. Here they are, not at all an exhaustive list, and certainly not a perfect guide for you:

  • Carve out some time for quiet, restful, meditation.
  • If you are a person of faith, get in touch with God or whatever person you worship.
  • Listen.
  • Listen some more—to your heart and your soul.
  • See if you find there a sacred direction especially for you.
  • Do you feel you are getting any closer to discovering your authentic self?
  • Can you begin to believe you will be transformed?
  • Can you take a step or two, in faith, into a holy place of transformation?
  • Pray, making your needs known to the source of your faith.
  • Read! Read the stories of others who found life transformation.
  • Find community, even one other person, who understands your journey.
  • Start all over again, leaning into the wisdom you found on your previous journey.
  • Take as long as it takes, until you realize that suddenly, you are becoming emboldened and scrappy!


emboldened and Scrappy

You may not know her name, but Lucy Stone was steadfast in her belief in self-authentication and in her ability to change the world. Lucy Stone was called “emboldened” and “scrappy” because of her tireless work for the abolitionist and women’s rights movements through the 19th century. A bona fide pioneer of her time, Lucy Stone stands as a historical titan. Her book “Unapologetic Life” describes a model of a revolutionary living. As for me, I would count it an honor to be described as emboldened and scrappy.


Riding on the Wings of the Spirit

Life is more fun when you’re emboldened and scrappy. Not that we want to reduce the life experience to just scrappinesses. Life is so much more, like authenticity and the willingness to be a change-agent. Life is about having enough courage to persevere! Life for me is about my soul and all the ways it has been transformed over many years. All along my journey, I knew that my soul was a problem! At every age, there was a part of me that wouldn’t follow the easiest path. I longed to be empowered to make societal change. I chased down injustice and worked to dismantle it. I spent most of my career working with victims of domestic violence, child abuse, and human trafficking. This was not the easiest and most pleasant vocation, but the work had made its way into my soul. To do it, I had to live in the light of self-awareness and soul-awareness. I had to constantly listen to the sighs of my soul, and move only after I had heard them clearly. If I had just one nugget of advice for you, it would be to touch your soul and ride on the wings of the Spirit.

Expect to Make History

Sisters, don’t forget that when you touch your soul, you might just not be a “good girl” anymore. Or a good boy, for that matter. As for me, I am not a “good girl” living at the whims of other people! And I am definitely not a well-behaved woman! So I fully expect to make history! Because making history means leaving a legacy, creating a world brimming with peace, and embodying your best self!

End

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A Snail’s Pace to the Mountaintop

Rev Kathy

By Kathy Manis Findley

Slow, slow, up the mountain I’ll go . . .


A PAUSE FOR SOME WHIMSY . . . Why don’t we have a little whimsy today? I have invited my snail-friend to join us. And anyway, we all need a little whimsy in these troubling days! So here goes!

I’m sorry to tell you that the snail in the picture will take forever to reach that mountaintop, and you and I simply don’t have the patience to walk with a snail. Even so, I feel good about my chances when racing a snail to get up on top of a mountain!

DOES THIS MAKE ANY SENSE AT ALL? . . . Not that this makes any sense at all. Why I would even be considering such a race! In fact, this is completely nonsensical, and if you know me, you know I’m far too serious to entertain whimsy! Makes no sense at all. Oh, but it does make some sense. Let me tell you something about me and what I have learned about the wisdom of the snail and its slow journey!

LIFE CAN BE DEVASTATING . . . When I think of the life catastrophes that have been the hardest for me, the ones that hurt me the most, I immediately recognize that I never slowed down enough to clearly see the unrest brewing around me and inside me. Multi-tasking and acting like an overcommitted, overwhelmed wife, mother, professional minister and hospital chaplain squeezed my spirit enough that I became hopelessly entrapped. That was in my younger days, those days when most of us stretch our commitments to the breaking point.

Before I could change course, I could see my dreams fading and my ability failing. It was impossible for me to reach the top of my mountain. It happened before I realized I was in trouble.

In the light of day, I can somewhat see, but at night, I can hardly see anything—literally and figuratively. But at least I have learned to take time to look up at the stars in a dark sky. It’s easy to see, to envision stars twinkling in the heavens, when you’re still young and when you can still find your hope-filled dreaming place inside you. You can still be breathless, open-eyed and awestruck!

CAN I STILL BE BREATHLESS, OPEN-EYED & AWESTRUCK? . . . To be honest, I must confess to you that I find it difficult to see with my soul, to be open-eyed and enthusiastic. I have lived my life with visions of dreams and hopes, and I have loved the fullness of my days. But being retired is another story altogether.

The story of my young and middle adult days was a story of constant activity, challenges, and tall mountains to climb in search of dreams. Dreams, dreams everywhere! Wherever I looked, I found another dream to dream!

RETIREMENT CAN BE DISHEARTENING . . . Retirement is another thing, and I am there! Illness and aging has nearly shut off my dreaming and visioning. Still, though I am sparring mightily with retirement, in the end I have slowed down to a snail’s pace. And snails probably don’t climb mountains or search for dreams.

What pieces of wisdom can we receive from a snail on a slow slither? Perhaps we should look elsewhere for such wisdom. One of my favorite authors gets to my soul with almost everything he writes. His keen spiritual insight has guided my path time after time. This is what Bishop Steven Charleston has to say about seeing more clearly.

 I see more clearly, now that I am aging. Not with my eyesight, but with my soul. I see the fine detail of what I missed in younger years. I see the place of faith and forgiveness in my story. I see the possibilities of life in ways I never imagined. I was not blind in my youth, but my vision was limited to only a few seasons of seeing.

Now I am an old man standing on a hill. I see more clearly. The universe stretches above me in infinite glory and the Earth spreads her shawl to wrap me in creation. Open the eyes of your spirit. Look out in wonder. See the fullness of the life you have received. See the promise of love walking in beauty before you.

— Bishop Steven Charleston

MY FRIENDS FINDING NEW WAYS TO DREAM . . . These are words I can hang on to and patiently learn how aging folk can still hope and dream, and maybe even climb new mountains. It’s possible. I have seen several aging folk on top of the mountains they dreamed of. One of my 70 year old friends travels all over the world. Another has launched out in a new calling to counsel kidney transplant patients. Yet another friend faced a closed door, so she picked up her skills and began a brand new ministry. And one friend left the United States to feed hungry people across the ocean.

All of these friends made it up to the mountaintop, though some of them might have traveled at a snail’s pace. That doesn’t matter, and I have a notion that their secret to life has to do with slowing down and stopping their frenetic pace. Why do that?

To give yourself time to dream, time to contemplate and pray, time to pull your soul back together, time to open your eyes and truly see, time to meet God who may well whisper in your ear . . .

Then I heard the voice of the Lord saying,
“Whom shall I send? And who will go for us?”
And I said, “Here am I. Send me!”

—Isaiah 6:8 NIV

TIME FOR SILENCE AND CONTEMPLATION . . .So walk on, slow if you have to. Take your time and wait until you hear God’s voice or sense the presence of the Spirit. Give yourself time for silence and prayer and a lot of contemplation. Keep your courage ready, and then go with all your courage when your heart says it’s time. Don’t let the snail discourage you. Your pace, whatever it is, will get you there. Don’t let anyone block your path or steal your dreams! And I’ll meet you on a mountaintop somewhere!

A LOVELY HYMN FOR YOUR QUIET TIME . . .

Here I Am, Lord (Anniversary Recording) · Dan Schutte
Here I Am, Lord (30th Anniversary Edition)
℗ 2001 2009 OCP, 5536 NE Hassalo, Portland, OR 97213. All rights reserved. Made in USA.
All selections BMI.

SHARE YOUR STORY . . .

If you are a new to my blog or have been reading it for years, you are welcome here. If you would like to leave a comment about your experience with slowing down your pace, finding time for prayer and contemplation, or renewing your spiritual, physical, and emotional life, please tell us about it in the comments. Your story can help others see life more clearly.

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In these Evil Days, Dream a Little Dream

Rev Kathy

Rev. Kathy Manis Findley

Lately, I have been trying to figure out a number of mysteries, but I have not figured out one single thing-, not lament, not how to fix my life, not transformation, not even the continuous mess in my closet. I simply have not yet been able to go through a reorganization process. The prospect of reorganizing my life—my soul, my spirit, my heart—plus all the treasures in my closet and armoire is so terribly daunting to me. Marie Kondo comes to mind, but I quickly shoo her away from my mess in the closet.

Lots of folk complain about “these days.” I confess that I do my share of complaining. What is it about “these days” that seems so troubling? I cannot fully give you an answer to that question yet, but I have some ideas about it. The issue at hand reminds me that the Bible often refers to “evil days.” I believe that many people see these days as “evil days,” and that cannot turn out well for anyone!

Jennifer Senior, a journalist with The Atlantic, recently wrote a news article in which she asked a another provocative question: What will happen to the American psyche if Trump is reelected? (Don’t worry, this post is not about Donald Trump!) On this question, maybe we really don’t want to know the answer. Instead of taking her question seriously and considering what might happen to “American psyches” following the November election, some folk would rather complain about the division all around, the evil around us, or other things nobody likes.

When we dare to make an honest evaluation of circumstances that surround us, we dig in our heels and balk. We balk because we don’t want to see the division in our nation or the impasse we have reached on important issues. We balk because, in truth, no one wants to lament. Remember, I’m not talking about divisions among us like liberal or conservative, Democrat or Republican, male or female, immigrant or American citizen, black or white . . . I could go on and on naming divisions among us. We have always co-existed with division, but most often in the past we have acknowledged division and simultaneously practiced kindness, respect, and tolerance. Given the current national environment, we might just be justified in calling these days “evil days.”

If reading the Bible is something you typically do, then you might understand more fully the term “evil day.” My heart tells me that “evil days” are definitely taking a toll on us. Instinct tells me that “the evil day” is not a single day, but refers to the times in our lives when we face overwhelming , troubling circumstances. If you are willing, meditate on the following words for a few moments.


Therefore, take up the whole armor of God, so that you may be able to withstand the evil day and, having prevailed against everything, to stand firm. 16 Stand, therefore, and belt your waist with truth and put on the breastplate of righteousness15 and lace up your sandals in preparation for the gospel of peace. 16 With all of these, take the shield of faith, with which you will be able to quench all the flaming arrows of the evil one.17 Take the helmet of salvation and the sword of the Spirit, which is the word of God.

—Ephesians 6:13-17 NRSVUE

I want to remind us all about the unrest we hold inside, too close to our heart and spirit. The proximity is important to pay attention to, as well as the flashpoints, past and present, that people have endured. I would guess that there are many flashpoints and memories of times that have held power over you. You probably face off with flashpoints, knowing that they not only create stress in our bodies, but also create bondage. We can become chained to our lives. Until we have exert some control of the present time of division, hate, turmoil, distrust, disrespect, contempt and other forms of bondage, we cannot find peace that changes the world. We certainly cannot figure out how to accept the possibility of transformation.

These evil days may well be causing our hearts to lament. These days may be days full of nightmares—no dreams at all, not even little dreams. You can name your own tragedies—the ones that are making it hard to breathe for you, or the ones that cover the whole troubled world with sadness. When I think of choosing my personal places of lament, those places where I can pour out the most anxiety, I feel the heavy burden of hopelessness. If you feel that too, you are not alone.

Always looking for a scapegoat, we try to discern what is bringing us down. Of course, life often brings us unforeseen personal tragedies that we must deal with. And there is certainly enough shared anxiety to go around. If you read the daily news, you will undoubtedly hear about the fierce war in Ukraine, the inability to create peace in the Middle East, the rising cost of food, the food deserts in our country, refugee children separated from their parents, difficult financial challenges, mass shootings, fractured relationships, long-term estrangement from loved ones, the opioid crisis and addiction, racism, injustice of all kinds, and politics. Evil days!

There are so many more ills we could add to this list, but we know them already, and the news programs are anxious to tell us about broken politics, as well as the way politics creates broken people. So there you have it! Among the many sources of stress we each experience, we continually stress over the dozens of pointless news stories about politics and the behavior of politicians every day. To top it off, Gloria Mark points out that “we are once again facing a news cycle that will shove our attention—as well as our output, our nerves, our sanity—through a Cuisinart.” No matter how skillfully we deny it, our bodies are not designed to handle chronic stress and trauma.

Just about now, you might want to say that politics doesn’t affect us that much, certainly doesn’t cause depression and hopelessness. But consider this viewpoint written by Pulitzer Prize winning journalist, Jennifer Senior:

The American Psychological Association’s annual stress survey, conducted by the Harris Poll, found that 68 percent of Americans reported that the 2020 election was a significant source of strain. Kevin B. Smith, a political-science professor at the University of Nebraska at Lincoln, found that about 40 percent of American adults identified politics as “a significant source of stress in their lives,” based on YouGov surveys . . . Even more remarkably, Smith found that about 5 percent reported having had suicidal thoughts because of our politics. Evil days!

And of the most divisive election in decades, psychologists are saying that their research shows that more than two-thirds of U.S. adults (68%) say that the 2020 U.S. presidential election was a significant source of stress in life.

It is not a stretch to say that stress plays havoc on our dreams, even our little dreams. I have to confess that my big dreams disappeared into the “impossible“ file, and were then swallowed up by the churning in my stomach and my psyche. I remember my first year in seminary, working part time jobs and going to class. For a while, I worked in the development office where all the catchy slogans, mottos and themes were born. One year, the staff got together to write a theme for the annual development campaign. I don’t know who came up with our brilliant theme, but we loved it. I really loved it and made it my personal mission.

“We’re Out to Change the World!”

I tried to do just that, and I honestly thought I could, but eventually the scene in my mind of one young woman alone trying to change the world on her own made me shiver. All the lofty goals and the many little dreams, along with a few big dreams, that had my attention were disappearing before me. I despaired at first and then carried long-term grief about it. There would be no big dreams in my heart. I would never see the glory of a big dream come true. Nor would I dream small dreams. People usually don’t dream of whatever is better while they are covered in grief—mourning, lamenting that they lost their dreams in the first place. In “these evil days” we must let go of despair and pray for an extra portion of holy determination!

But people do see the sacred light that sparks dreams. It dawns over them again and again until their dreamless spirit transforms from death, to life, to get their bearings again, and to summon the energ to get up and try

This is my message to you, and to myself: After your time of lament, rejoice! After you have escaped the bondage of evil days, rejoice! After you name your loss, and then put yourself back together, rejoice!

Take heart. Up in the heavens, there is rejoicing for you! Even in the gloomy shadow of dark and evil days, there is rejoicing for you! Even if you are trying to dream even the littlest dream, there is rejoicing for you!

So try a big dream! Change the world a little bit! Your heart longs for it, the world needs it, and the heavens will do what they always do—rejoice!

 Let the heavens rejoice, let the earth be glad;
    let the sea resound, and all that is in it.

Psalm 16:11 NIV

May even your smallest dreams change the world!

Consolation, Despair, Dreams, Epiphany, God’s creation, God’s Gift of Stars, Godburst, Hope, Injustice, Isaiah 6, Lament

Epiphany’s GodBurst!

Rev Kathy

By Rev. Kathy Manis Findley

Please click here to view this blog post in your browser.

Fowler, John. Rising Star, Milky Way, from Art in the Christian Tradition, a project of the Vanderbilt Divinity Library, Nashville, TN. https://diglib.library.vanderbilt.edu/act-imagelink.pl?RC=56313 [retrieved January 6, 2024].
Original source: https://commons.wikimedia.org/wiki/File:Milky_Way_-_28_June_2014.jpg.

Epiphany ~ January 6, 2024

Isaiah 60:1-6

Arise, shine; for your light has come, and the glory of the LORD has risen upon you. For darkness shall cover the earth, and thick darkness the peoples; but the LORD will arise upon you, and his glory will appear over you. Nations shall come to your light, and kings to the brightness of your dawn.

Lift up your eyes and look around; they all gather together, they come to you; your sons shall come from far away, and your daughters shall be carried on their nurses’ arms. Then you shall see and be radiant; your heart shall thrill and rejoice, because the abundance of the sea shall be brought to you, the wealth of the nations shall come to you.

A multitude of camels shall cover you, the young camels of Midian and Ephah; all those from Sheba shall come. They shall bring gold and frankincense, and shall proclaim the praise of the LORD.

When the Holy Child is born into our hearts there is a rain of stars, a rushing of angels, a blaze of candles, this God Burst into our lives.

— Ann Weems

On this particular day, I am finding it difficult to declare that Epiphany is my favorite day in the Liturgical Calendar. But it is my favorite day of celebration in the Church year! The truth is that this day of Epiphany, 2023 reminds me that today is both a day of shining splendor and a day of shameful scourge. After all, this year Epiphany falls on the sixth day of January, the third anniversary of the day the United States Capitol was violated by a mob of insurrectionists. Thousands of attendees, some armed, walked to the Capitol, with hundreds breaching police perimeters as Congress was beginning the electoral vote count. Among the rioters were leaders of the Proud Boys and the Oath Keepers militia groups, who conspired to use violence to interfere with the peaceful transfer of power.

Within 36 hours of the event, five people had died: one was shot by Capitol Police, another died of a drug overdose, and three died of natural causes, including a police officer. Many people were injured, including 174 police officers. Four officers who responded to the attack died by suicide within seven months.

That day was a disgraceful moment in this nation and beyond, as many countries around the globe lost confidence in America. American citizens also reacted strongly and suddenly questioned our nation’s democracy, the sovereignty of free and fair elections, and the participation in “a historic and profound abuse of the judicial process.” We were questioning our ethics, our morals, our human decency, our abhorrence for violence, and sadly, our sudden refusal to discern the vast difference between peaceful protest and seditious mutiny.

Can we finish this unpleasant conversation and change our view to the stars, thousands and thousands of stars in the Milky Way galaxy? They are perhaps a sparkling reminder of other sparkling things that are worth remembering—the birth of America’s democracy, the toil of creating the United States Constitution, the Veteran’s Day commemorations year after year, the moving inaugurations of the line of U.S. presidents, America’s many fragile freedoms, the outstanding individuals we become when we give the best of our hearts and spirits to dreams of peace and justice.

And yet, these are earthly accomplishments and events. We must keep looking up into the heavens, listening for the Prophet’s voice saying, “Arise, shine; for your light has come, and the glory of the LORD has risen upon you. For darkness shall cover the earth, and thick darkness the peoples; but the LORD will arise upon you, and his glory will appear over you.”

This is the holy proclamation from the Prophet that Epiphany gives us every January. It is the soulful serendipity of the new year. It is a kind of GodBurst that gives us the energy to keep moving closer to dreams of peace and justice.

I need Epiphany this year. Perhaps you do too. There is far too much darkness surrounding us all—war, violence, abuse, division, rancor, injustice, racism, misogyny, xenophobia, gun violence, illness, drug abuse, homelessness, hopelessness—darkness. I think maybe our Epiphany prayer needs to be a prayer of lament for the part, large or small, that we have played to bring the darkness upon us and our world.

But after lament, we can always look up to see the stars. You know the ones, the ones God placed in the galaxies to brighten our darkest nights and lift our darkest spirits. God set these glittering Stars in the sky to always remind us to look for Epiphanies, and find them when we least expect to. Even if we have only one brief, transcendent, shining moment, we can claim as our own the brilliance of the stars that hover above us in the night sky. Our GodBurst! Your sacred path and mine definitely does take us through dark and frightening places sometimes, but look up! That’s the command I keep saying to myself. Look up! “Arise, shine, for your light has come and the glory of the Lord has risen upon you!”So look up into the heavens and see the most brilliant, glimmering stars giving light for your journey.

May God make it so. Amen.

A Prayer of Lament


Radiant Star of Hope, we lament the darkness of our world.

Forgive us the darkness we ourselves create.
Star of our deepest Hope, you grace us with guidance and mystery, 
Visit our troubled rest with disturbing dreams,

and our journeys with strange companions. 
Grace us with the hospitality to open our hearts and homes

to visitors filled with unfamiliar wisdom, bearing profound and unusual gifts.

Guide us on Epiphany’s path and disturb us with Stars, O God,

that the radiance and Spirit working in the world

might gather together all peoples and nations in one community 
to offer you worship and proclaim your everlasting splendor. Amen.

Fowler, John. Milky Way, from Art Original source: https://commons.wikimedia.org/wiki/File:Milky_Way_-_28_June_2014.jpg. John Fowler, CC BY 2.0 https://creativecommons.org/licenses/by/2.0, via Wikimedia Commons [retrieved January 6, 2024].

A frenzied life, Aging, Beginning again, Detours, Melancholy, Rev. Kathy Manis Findley, Sacred Path

Detours Not Chosen

Rev Kathy


Have you ever found yourself on a path you did not choose? I am on such a path right now, in my aging years when nostalgia is rampant in me. Since I did not choose any part of this path for myself, I would have to say I have been detoured by some other force. The bottom line is that I have been detoured onto a path that seldom makes me happy.

Empty and desolate is this path, at least much of the time. My path detoured after a sudden diagnosis of end stage renal failure, followed by a year (2014) of being in and out of the hospital, daily dialysis, moving to another state far from my son and grandchildren, a kidney transplant, and the difficult change it brought to my existence. I can say unequivocally that I don’t like the forced detour and I don’t like this path.

Most of us begin our adult lives with plans and dreams. We have arranged our first-world lives so that we will have many choices for a bright future. When we age, though, our choices become limited, and sometimes the choices for our lives are made by someone else. So I find myself in the season of life when my path is narrowed and my choices are limited. This is a stifling place to be, leaving me with at least three emotional responses:

1) I am in a constant state of melancholy and cannot seem to pull myself out of it.

2) I live with a deep hurt in the pit of my stomach, like when you miss someone so much.

3) I feel a fear I have never felt before, that the next change I did not choose will be even worse than the changes before it.

Although I can readily list everything that is not good about this path, I have never been a complainer and certainly not one who refuses to hear God’s whispers to me. I can’t explain where these whispers come from or how it is that I hear them, but I have always chosen to believe that it is God who whispers in my ear. So after a sudden and frightening diagnosis, I began to hear God’s whispers—gently, tenderly, patiently, and full of compassion. Then I heard an unusual kind of whisper, one that was emphatic and a little more forceful than the usual whispers . . .

“Enough! Enough of your frenzied life. Enough of working day and night. Enough of caring for others and ignoring yourself. Enough of not listening to the cries of your soul. Enough of constantly writing grants to fund your ministry. Enough of serving on dozens of committees all at once. Enough of putting away your creativity to direct corporate shenanigans. Enough of not drawing near to me. Enough!”

Almost immediately after that striking whisper, I ran headlong into the illness that stopped me in my tracks! The detour was severe and the path was definitely not a sacred path. I asked myself this question one late night of melancholy while resting in my hospital room: What will I do now, what will I be able to do now except pray, meditate, listen, breathe, journal, dream, sit in silence, and pray some more?

I did just that when I was well enough. And from months of recuperation and meditation, my creativity was restored. I started painting watercolors, writing in this blog, listening to music, singing hymns, creating beautiful things, writing two books, playing piano, growing plants and arranging flowers, and so many other creative things. During those days, when I needed to comfort myself, my mind pulled up many passages of scripture that urged me towards a more contemplative life.

Be still, and know that I am God. Come close to God, and God will come close to you. I have calmed and quieted myself. I rise early, before the sun is up; I cry out for help and put my hope in your words. My eyes are awake before the watches of the night, that I may meditate on your promise. Above all things, guard your heart, for from it flow the wellsprings of life.

Doing all those creative and spiritual things helped my soul, of course, but no matter how I tried, nothing could completely take away my melancholy. It is still in me. Although I did pull myself out of the darkness I felt on the abysmal path I did not choose, the melancholy remained with me. As it does for any of us, at times. Life happens. Forced detours happen. Bad things happen to good people. None of these happen on our schedule, nor does our sacred path always lead us where we want to go.

Isn’t that just life? Isn’t that life for anyone, no matter how devout?

It helps to remember that our path is a sacred path, no matter how everything seems. We walk it “by faith and not by sight.” I leave you with a verse from the twenty-third Psalm.

Even when I walk
    through the darkest valley,
I will not be afraid,
    for you are close beside me.

May all your paths be sacred and your detours chosen by you.
~ Rev. Kathy


For your meditation time today, I share with you this beautiful song offered by John Michael Talbot.

anxiety, Depression, peace, Spiritual growth, Ups and Downs

Ups and Downs

Rev Kathy

I feel exasperated sometimes with the constant ups and downs that are a normal part of my life. I would surmise that ups and downs are probably a part of your life, too.

Don’t we have a knack for riding them out on something akin to a roller coaster? I have truly become a master at riding out ups and downs since my kidney transplant, but then I never really wanted a roller coaster life. So much for life plans!

Even with ups and downs, I am comforted when my faith opens up insight I have gained over the years, like not worrying about tomorrow (Matthew 6:34), not leaning on my own understanding (Proverbs 3:5) and not being anxious about anything (Philippians 4:6-7). Those stay-the-course words should surely be enough to help, shouldn’t they?

Not always! Faith and spiritual maturity and scripture are simply not enough at times to keep me from the despondency of the “downs.” That’s just the way my psyche reacts when I feel down or when a circumstance pushes me down. The trouble is, things that get me down are not always enormously critical things. Even an insignificant down moment can let depression plant itself in my spirit. That just doesn’t work for me, so I need to find a way to even out my roller coaster life and not let everything that happens be a potential for depression.

What do I want? I cannot say it simpler than this: stabilizing peace. It is not an exaggeration to say that since my transplant eighteen months ago, almost nothing has been stable. Immunosuppression medications are constantly being moved up or down; my lab numbers are constantly fluctuating; my emotions are up and down; my energy waxes and wanes; my blood sugar rises and plummets; and, on one day my kidney might be okay, but on another day, I am dealing with kidney rejection. My physical, emotional and spiritual well being rises and falls with each change.

Oh, for some stabilizing peace that stays constant through the ups and downs!

I keep going back, though, to the ultimate words that promise me the kind of constant, stabilizing peace that I so need:

Always be glad because of the Lord! I will say it again: Be glad. 
Always be gentle with others. The Lord will soon be here.
Don’t worry about anything, but pray about everything.
With thankful hearts offer up your prayers and requests to God.
Then, because you belong to Christ Jesus,
God will bless you with peace that no one can completely understand.
And this peace will control the way you think and feel.

Finally, my friends, keep your minds on whatever is true, pure, right, holy, friendly, and proper.

Don’t ever stop thinking about what is truly worthwhile
and worthy of praise.

You know the teachings I gave you,
and you know what you heard me say and saw me do.
So follow my example. And God, who gives peace, will be with you.

Philippians 4:4-9 CEV


I wage war, much of the time, with depression that continues its haunting presence. It is not the debilitating kind of depression that can knock one to the ground to the point of needing medication. It is not the kind of depression that leaves one in tears and prevents any meaningful activity. It is not even the kind of depression that affects one’s life to the point of complete stagnancy. But it is a depression that hurts the heart and leaves the spirit languishing — on some days more than others.

Yet, I am grateful for lessons learned. In my times of depression — through my ups and downs — I have learned a few helpful and hopeful lessons.

These are just a few of them:


  1. I must not fall into the bottomless pit of anticipatory anxiety. The things that fill me with such anxiety and worry rarely even happen.
  2. My spirit is resilient, much stronger than I think it will be.
  3. The bad things that happen to me don’t usually last forever. I can ride them out.
  4. It is not “pie-in-the-sky” fantasy to fall back on the faith that has always sustained me. The truth is that the God who promised to be with me, really has been with me — every time.
  5. My “downs” have always graced me with a fresh view of my soul and spirit, the deep places in me that fall to the dust but still manage to get up and move forward.

I admit I haven’t made peace with my ups and downs. I suspect I will have them as lifelong companions, but I have made peace with the soul of my being. I have discovered that there are some soul-things that I can never really touch unless I have gone as low as I can go. In those times, my emotions are discernible and my spirit is tender. In those times, there is a holy presence that will take my hands and lift me up. Of that, I am confident.

Debasiah Mridha wrote these words that are so true and so full of wisdom, “Life has its ups and downs. When you are up, enjoy the scenery. When you are down, touch the soul of your being and feel the beauty.” 

I would like to be able to leave you with a sparkling, new solution for all of the times you go from up to down. I would like to be able to tell you in your ups, and in your downs, that you will find peace enough to sustain you. I wish I could tell you, even, that your life will be all “ups.” I wish I could believe it for myself. But there are very few things that any of us can count on. I intend to keep holding on tightly to my faith and my belief that God’s Spirit of Wisdom walks beside me. Sits next to me on that terrifying roller coaster!

I also love this thought that I stumbled upon in a most unlikely place. Brent Schlender, in his book entitled, Becoming Steve Jobs: The Evolution of a Reckless Upstart into a Visionary Leader, made the most lovely, comforting observation. This is what he wrote: “The sun will set and the sun will rise, and it will shine upon us tomorrow in our grief and our gratitude, and we will continue to live with purpose, memory, passion, and love.” 

May the Holy One make it so. Amen


Africa, Aging, Bravery, Challenge, Change, Clouds, Comfort, Courage, discouragement, Grace, healing, Hope, Magic, mercy, Mystery, Resilience, Skies, Soul, Spirit, Sue Monk Kidd, Troubles, Uganda, wind, Wings of the morning

Leaving Our MAGIC Behind

Rev Kathy

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Ugandan Washday at the River. Watercolor art by Kathy Manis Findley

When life moves on — from twenty to forty to seventy — you take into your inner place the ominous idea that if ever there was magic in your life, at some point, you left it behind. You know what I mean. The magic of your first love. The magic of the birth of your child. The magic of the time when you believed you could accomplish anything and everything you set your heart on. The magic that you actually did accomplish that thing, that sparkling thing that made you stand tall and celebrate yourself.

You might be wondering what in the world set my mind on life-magic this morning. I think it might have been carryover from my musings on yesterday’s blog post. But mostly, it came from reading a novel by one of my favorite authors, Sue Monk Kidd. This is the passage that captivated me, captured me as if it were some sort of sacred scripture.

There was a time in Africa the people could fly. Mauma told me this one night when I was ten years old. She said, “Handful, your granny-mauma saw it for herself. She say they flew over trees and clouds. She say they flew like blackbirds. When we came here, we left that magic behind.”

My mauma was shrewd. She didn’t get any reading and writing like me. Everything she knew came from living on the scarce side of mercy.. She looked at my face, how it flowed with such sorrow and doubt, and she said, “You don’t believe me? Where do you think these shoulder blades of yours come from, girl?”

Those skinny bones stuck out from my back like nubs. She patted them and said, “This all what left of your wings. They nothing but these flat bones now, but one day you gon get ‘em back.”

I was shrewd like mauma. Even at ten I knew this story about people flying was pure malarkey. We weren’t some special people who lost our magic. We were slave people, and we weren’t going anywhere. It was later I saw what she meant. 

— Sue Monk Kidd, from her novel, The Invention of Wings

Part of why these words so thoroughly captured me is in the very first sentence that mentions the place I so love, Africa. And even though the words don’t really have all that much to do with Africa, I found myself transported, walking among the banana trees in East Africa — Fort Portal, Uganda to be exact. Walking into a village brimming with people, and oh, the children! So many glimmering eyes, wide smiles and glowing dark faces that expressed everything from sheer delight to excruciating sorrow, and everything in between.

That was in one of my former lives, and pure magic it was! Because when you are able to make a child smile with a sweety (a piece of hard candy), there’s magic in that moment and it is a moment you carry through your day and through the rest of your life. Maybe that’s the grace of growing older — that you carry with you moments of magic from every place you have been, from every soul who touched your life so deeply.

In Sue Monk Kidd’s words, the magic was being able to fly, probably meaning to soar into the clouds above your troubles and woes. It hit me in my deep place, that the Ugandan people we came to know and love did soar into the clouds. Indeed, they left the agonizing hardships of life on the dusty earth below as their wings lifted them up, higher and higher to where life’s pain was replaced by pure exhilaration.

Back on the earth, in their world, not much was very exhilarating. Life was the same, predictable day after predictable day that disheartened them with hunger, malnutrition, thirst for clean water, oppression, soldiers with their machine guns and all the commonplace bad things that formed their lives. But there were better things too, like lush banana groves and children singing; like the music of drums at dusk; like the shimmering embers from their cooking fires rising into the night sky and reminding them that the day’s toil was not so bad when family could still gather together around a centering, comforting fire. There was magic in all of it. It was the magic of surviving war and embracing the loved ones who were still alive. It was the magic of celebrating the extraordinary lives of loved ones who had died and knowing that generations would move forward carrying the family’s magic into the future. It was the magic in their remembering, remembering the holy words they had hidden in their hearts . . .

“For I know the plans I have for you,” says the Lord,
“plans for well-being and not for trouble, to give you a future and a hope.”

— Jeremiah 29:11 New Life Version (NLV)

Maybe you, like me, have forgotten that we brought our magic with us to this day from the scenes of our past, from the happenings and the people we have known. This kind of magic never leaves one’s spirit. This kind of magic is holy mystery, really. It is tucked away within us for the times when we most need to take wing. Still, it does take some courage on our part, some brave resolve that we can lift up our heads and embrace “a future and a hope.”

No, we have not left our magic behind! It waits in us for a moment when we are languishing, when we feel sorrow or discouragement, fear or desperation — for a time when we feel disconsolate. It is in that moment we fly, by the grace-filled mercy of God, on the wings of the morning,* forever lifted above the troubles of the world.

I need that sometimes. Don’t you?

 

For your meditation time, I share with you this beloved hymn, “Come, Ye Disconsolate.”*

* Psalm 139:9

* “Come, Ye Disconsolate”
Lyrics: Thomas Moore (1779-1852); Altered by Thomas Hastings (1784-1872)
Music: Samuel Webbe (1740-1816)

Beauty of Nature, Bible, Birdsong, Comfort, Darkness, Ecclesiastes, Emotions, God’s Gift of Stars, healing, Hope, Joy, Laughter, life, Loss, Music, Nature, Psalms, Restoration, simple joys, Stars, Trees, Troubles

Almost Magic!

Rev Kathy

3A2F0634-063D-4F26-B01F-F36B8CFE6EF9
Photo by James Ronan,  FOAP/Getty Images

Today, while minding my own business — and browsing the Better Homes & Gardens website — I stumbled across a stunning image of a tree. Those of you who know me, know that I have had a lifelong passion for trees. Trees, for me, are not only beautiful, they also take me often into a spiritual place. This morning while looking at the bark of the Rainbow Eucalyptus tree (Eucalyptus deglupta), my thought was, “This is almost magic! It can’t be real!”

Rainbow Eucalyptus trees look too beautiful to be real (but they are!) (BH&G) 

These  trees have an astounding multicolored bark that looks like it’s been decorated with a humongous paintbrush. They seem like something one might imagine, or see in a fantasy movie, or discover in a Dr. Seuss book. But they do grow naturally with a brilliantly colored bark. The Rainbow Eucalyptus, which grow 100 to 200 feet tall, are native to tropical regions like the Philippines, Papua New Guinea, Indonesia and even in the most southern parts of the U.S. “Though pictures of these trees are stunning, they don’t quite capture the awe of seeing them in person.

A real rainbow eucalyptus can stop you in your tracks, so if you have the chance to travel to see them, it’s well worth the journey. (BH&G)

As you would expect, I did some research to find places where I could see this magical tree in person. San Diego, California, is actually becoming a travel destination for seeing these trees. One can see them at Balboa Park, along Sports Arena Boulevard, at the San Diego Zoo, and in parts of Mission Bay. One can also see them in parts of Florida, Hawaii and Texas. So there really are a few places you can see a Rainbow Eucalyptus without needing a passport.

You might ask, “What’s so important about a tree that looks fake?” And that would be a good question. I’m not sure I have a coherent answer, but I’ll give it a shot. Sometimes we find ourselves in places that feel “blah.” We’ve lost our sense of direction and maybe even our will to move forward in life. Those times can come to us because of grief, illness, family challenges, concern for our children, stagnancy in our careers, waning spirituality or simply feeling out of sorts. Hundreds of life circumstances can bring us to a lethargic or depressed place in life. It’s not a very good place to be, and most of us wonder how we got to such a place.

In those times (and there have been many) when lethargy got the best of me, I tended to search for a bit of magic. No ordinary remedy seemed adequate. I just needed some magic and I have discovered over many years that magic can be found in a myriad of places, beginning with some very hope-filled passages of Scripture.

There is nothing better for mortals than to eat and drink, and find enjoyment in their toil. This also, I saw, is from the hand of God; for apart from him who can eat or who can have enjoyment? For to the one who pleases him God gives wisdom and knowledge and joy . . .
— Ecclesiastes 2:24-26 (NRSV)

In the day of prosperity be joyful, and in the day of adversity consider; God has made the one as well as the other . . .
— Ecclesiastes 7:14 (NRSV)

So I commend enjoyment, for there is nothing better for people under the sun than to eat, and drink, and enjoy themselves, for this will go with them in their toil through the days of life that God gives them under the sun.
— Ecclesiastes 8:15 (NRSV)

For you shall go out in joy
and be led forth in peace;
the mountains and the hills before you
shall break forth into singing,
and all the trees of the field shall clap their hands.
— Isaiah 55:12 (ESV)

Nehemiah, who was the governor, and Ezra the priest and scribe, and the Levites who taught the people said to all the people, “This day is holy to the Lord your God; do not mourn or weep.” For all the people wept when they heard the words of the law. Then he said to them, “Go your way, eat the fat and drink sweet wine and send portions of them to those for whom nothing is prepared, for this day is holy to our Lord; and do not be grieved, for the joy of the Lord is your strength . . .” And all the people went their way to eat and drink and to send portions and to make great rejoicing . . .
— Nehemiah 8:9-12 (NRSV)

And always, words from the Psalmist:

You show me the path of life.
In your presence there is fullness of joy;
in your right hand are pleasures forevermore.
— Psalm 16:11 (NRSV)

I believe that I shall see the goodness of the Lord in the land of the living.
— Psalm 27:13 (NRSV)

Delight yourself in the Lord, and he will give you the desires of your heart.
— Psalm 37:4 (ESV)

These messages from the pages of the Bible bring me joy and a bit of relief from feeling down. Being lifted from depression, sadness, the doldrums and other similar difficult seasons of life can feel like magic, magic that can be found in lots of places — if we’re paying attention. The magic may be found in a forest with a verdant canopy of leaves we can see if we look up. It may be found in the laughter of a child or in listening to joyful songs, the rhythmic melody moving through the heart. Magic may be found in loving relationships, in a garden, in a place of prayer and contemplation. You and I might find magic in birdsong or in the cloud shapes we see in the morning sky. We can even find magic in the darkest of our nights — for 100 thousand million stars sparkle for us in the Milky Way — a gift from the Creator, shining out of the darkness.

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Photo by Danita Delimont/Getty Images

Today, I found magic in the most unlikely place — in the bark of Rainbow Eucalyptus trees. At least it felt like almost magic! I happened upon this treasure of nature quite by accident, or perhaps it was by providence. Anyway, catching sight of this whimsical, majestic tree brought me the joy of remembering afresh the varied potpourri of the gifts of creation, coming from God, the Father/Mother of lights.

Every good gift and every perfect gift is from above, and comes down from the Father of lights, with whom there is no variableness nor shadow of turning.
— James 1:17 (NKJV)

Thanks be to God for unspeakable gifts of grace. Amen.

 

 

 

Awakening, Beginning again, Discovering, Faith, God’s promises, Hope, life, New Life, Rebirth, Singing, Spring

My Spring

Rev Kathy

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The flowers appear on the earth, the time of singing has come . . .
Song of Songs 2:12

Now that February has brought the tiniest green shoots from the ground, I know that it brings a promise of flowers — yellow ones and purple ones — bright promises of the new life that emerges every spring. Perhaps I can take a deep breath now that I am exactly three months today past my kidney transplant. This day is a milestone for my immunosuppressed self, marking the time when my transplant team might tell me that I can possibly escape from my isolation and go out to see the signs of spring. I am making February my personal commemoration month, celebrating, contemplating, dealing with a few deep-set fears and deciding to take a microshift forward.

The beginning of this story was in February of 2014 when suddenly and unexpectedly, I found myself in the emergency department of Baptist Health Medical Center with a diagnosis of end stage kidney disease. I faced a long illness that year that very nearly ended my life, three times during the 58 days I was hospitalized. When I didn’t die, I discovered that I could not walk, feed myself, name colors or even write my name. A kind and dedicated physical therapist helped me work for months after I returned home challenging me to regain those losses. For months, I was very weak, often confused and paralyzed by fear.

The only treatment available to me was dialysis, eight hours a day, seven days a week. Today though, February 12, is another February milestone that allows me to view my transplant three months ago today. Now that I am six years past it, I am looking back on that time that began in February of 2014, and I can see clearly the truths I discovered. I think they are important discoveries for me, of course, but also for anyone who must take an unexpected journey toward an uncertain future. So these are some of the discoveries that give me courage:

Fear takes on many forms and enters my psyche on its own terms.

Gratefulness floods over me at will through a kind word, a phone call, a connection with a friend, old or new.

Faith can be tiny in one moment and large in another, but either way, faith bears me up when I cannot move forward.

Hope constantly calls out to me to remember the source of my hope.

Patience with myself when I am not myself lifts me up, even when I feel physically weak and unable to do all the things I used to do.

These discoveries I know. I also know that, through it all, I have experienced periods of spiritual and emotional depression. Yet, those dark times were interrupted with times when my faith rose from within to comfort me and remind me of my “refuge and strength, an ever-present help in times of trouble. (Psalm 46:1 NASB) How wonderful to be able to see again the light of the Sun of Righteousness and to know that my slumbering soul can most surely rise from its lethargy like the stubborn crocus from the hard winter ground. It feels almost like rebirth.

Everything that has been dead through my winter is slowly waking up to new life, new vibrancy, a new season to grow and live and thrive. Along the way, I remember so much comfort from Scripture, thoughts of new life throughout the pages. This is but one:

The flowers appear on the earth, the time of singing has come,
and the voice of the turtledove is heard in our land.
— Song of Songs 2:12

So spring is near. My spring has come, bringing another season, another chance, another burst of hope. Thanks be to God.

Adultery, Art, Awakening, Celebration, Change, Dancing, Discovering, Dreams, Freedom, Growing up, Introspection, Joy, life, New Life, Praise, Psalms, Questions, Surprise, Tambourine

With a Tambourine in My Hand

Rev Kathy

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Water Dancers by Canadian artist, Rob Gonsalves

Women in white gowns emerge from the crashing water of  a moonlit waterfall. What in the world does that have to do with me, other than the fact that I am completely enthralled by this painting? I certainly cannot relate or see myself emerging from rushing waters or even dancing with a tambourine in my hand. Yet, there is something about this art that inspired my soul searching and brought up some questions I want to contemplate.

Where did I come from? Where will I go?
What will I do with my life? Which of my dreams will I realize?

I have asked myself similar questions, questions about what made me who I am and if I will ever feel that I have realized my life dreams. It’s true that I have entered my seventieth year of life, and one might wonder why the need for all the introspective questions. But In the core of my being, I believe that I can still dream and that I can still experience wonder about what I see in and around my life.

What people will enter my life leaving cherished gifts of friendship? What wonder will I see around me as I search for meaning? What will Spirit say to me with the gentle breath of her voice that can also enter my life as a rushing, mighty wind? And how does God continue to call me to new ministries of the heart?

I do not know the answer to those questions. Nor do I know who or what I will be when I grow up. So I struggle to know. I plead with God to give me direction. During this season of my life while I am challenged with so many things related to my kidney transplant, I have been somewhat obsessed with finding the answers to all those “who am I?” questions. I despair a little when I can’t find the answers.

Back to the art. Yesterday, I accidentally came across the painting by Canadian artist Rob Gonsalves which is at the top of this post. I was immediately captivated by the image, especially the rushing waterfall that changed into women living life — some of them dancing, others playing their tambourines, others just emerging, still others just beginning to awaken.

The art reminds me of how we might emerge into life — to grow into life, to be open to change, to be willing to embrace a process of becoming. Each of us is engaged in that kind of process whether we know it or not, whether we embrace it or not. We want to experience an awakening that opens our eyes to wonder and our souls to extraordinary newness of life. We want the freedom to be who we are. We don’t want to stay in our awakening place, reticent about moving into the best part of our lives, refusing to move because of our fear. We want to throw off our hesitation and, in search of our dreams, to sing, to dance, to play our tambourines in celebration of our unique personhood.

I am reminded of a beautiful passage of Scripture from the Psalms.

Let them praise his name with dancing,
making melody to him with tambourine and lyre.

— Psalm 149:3 (NRSV)

Isn’t that precisely what we want for our lives? To lean into our true selves so that we are compelled to sing, to dance with tambourines in our hands, to celebrate our lives, to dream and to praise the God who rejoices when we live into freedom and joy!

 

 

 

 

 

Acts 42, anxiety, Awareness, Beauty of Nature, Birdsong, Creation, Faith, Fear, Grace, healing, Hope, Humbug, journey, Life Journeys, Light, Mindfulness, Nature, New Year, peace, Quiet, Reflection, Self Awareness, Self care, simple pleasures, Soul

Finding Simple Pleasures

Rev Kathy

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A Saturday of football — what a simple pleasure! I am a fan of certain teams (Roll Tide!), but I am definitely not a football fanatic. And yet, this morning while half-watching Sportscenter, I realized that watching with Fred, not having to focus that much, resting in the ordinary seemed like a simple pleasure.

There are many simple pleasures, of course, far more soulful than watching football — taking a walk in the splendor of nature, listening to birdsong, snuggling with your puppy, looking up at the night’s moon and stars, taking a walk on a labyrinth’s spiritual path . . . There are so many more simple pleasures in life, and most of them do not even require a trip to the grocery store. They cost us nothing, but their worth is priceless.

These are the simple moments that caress the soul, bring peace and calm to the heart and enliven a wounded spirit. These moments, and others like them, are the moments we desperately need, especially in times when we are burdened with the weight of the world, languishing in darkness.

I have learned some things about a wounded spirit: that woundedness happens to all of us; that “dark nights of the soul” happen to everyone at some time in life; that the wounded spirit does not always require sophisticated remedies; that a simple pleasure is sometimes all it takes to begin a healing journey.

The important factor is self-awareness, being mindful of the soul’s health, accepting the reality that healing will require us to self-intervene and that our intervention could begin with entering into a simple pleasure. One worthy New Year’s resolution is to intentionally identify the simple pleasures that feed our souls and then to allow a simple pleasure to enfold us in contemplation.

Normally, I would say “bah humbug” to New Year’s Resolutions that we make, break, and then feel guilty about for an entire year! But a resolution to discover the simple pleasures that give us life is one worthy resolution. So I challenge you to look and listen for the simple pleasures that are “you,” and to hold them near whenever you are experiencing a “dark night of the soul.”

“There comes a time when both body and soul enter into such a vast darkness that one loses light,” wrote Mechtild of Magdeburg. There comes a time when the soul “sinks down into the night.”

Her words are the words of one who knew spiritual journey and seasons of darkness. There is no doubt that at some time throughout your life, you will find yourself traveling the spiritual night. I do know this within my place of deep knowing: when I give myself to spiritual journeying, allowing myself the peace of a simple pleasure that calms my spirit, I realize that God always invites us beyond where we are.

God guides us on the spiritual journey that sometimes means winding through a dark wood. The darkness may frighten us, but it is a necessary part of the trip. When we panic in the darkness, we must try to understand that it’s a holy dark and that the idea is to surrender to it and journey through until we reach God’s light.

And then on to simple pleasures!372C6D47-6761-412E-AACF-420F5B1EE76D

God will be present beside us —- in the light of simple pleasures and in the soul’s dark night.

That is the gift, the grace, that God has freely given to us, and for that we give thanks.

Advent, Angels, Bethlehem’s Star, Christ’s Birth, Comfort, Despair, Emotions, Fear, God’s Gift of Stars, Grace, grief, healing, Hope, Loss, Love, Mourning, New Normal, Questions, Resilience, struggle, Tears

“Listening for the Rustle of Angels’ Wings”

Rev Kathy

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The Fourth Sunday of Advent
The Advent Sunday of Love
Transplant Day Forty-One
December 22, 2019

 

TO LISTEN, TO LOOK

Is it all sewn up — my life?
Is it at this point so predictable,
so orderly,
so neat,
so arranged,
so right,
that I don’t have time or space
for listening for the rustle of angels’ wings
or running to stables to see a baby?
Could this be what he meant when he said
Listen, those who have ears to hear . . .
Look, those who have eyes to see?
Oh God, give me the humbleness of those shepherds
who saw in the cold December darkness
the Coming of Light,
the Advent of Love!

— Ann Weems

I ask myself those Ann Weems questions often:

Is it all sewn up — my life? Is it so predictable, so orderly, so neat, so arranged, so right,
that I don’t have time or space for listening for the rustle of angels’ wings or running to stables to see a baby?

These are among the most important questions I might sit with for a while, pondering my answers. On this Advent Sunday when we light the Candle of Love, I suddenly realize that Advent is ending, bringing Christmas so abruptly, or so it seems. Am I ready, I wonder? Am I ready for the birth of the Child, “Love’s Pure Light?”486917B0-E862-4C44-895D-D08210690B48

Have I prepared a place in my heart for the “pure unbounded love” we sing about in the beloved hymn, “Love Divine, All Loves Excelling?” Was my life so preoccupied that I missed the gentle darkness of the Season of Advent and am now feeling pushed — shoved —into Christmas?

Love in a manger is too holy a gift to take for granted. Love in a manger offers us a gift that we must be prepared to receive, and Advent is our season of preparation. As the season ends, I cannot help but ask myself if I spent these days preparing myself, heart and soul. Did I pray enough? Did I spend enough contemplative time? Did I love my neighbor and care for the persons around me who had so many life needs? Did I create sacred, meditative moments in anticipation, preparing for Emmanuel to come into my life anew?

I’m afraid I must answer, “no.” Yes, I did reflect on Advent now and then as I wrote for my blog, but I definitely did not spend enough time in meditation, preparing myself to receive the Christ Child. I was completely preoccupied with creating my life’s new normal after my kidney transplant. New routines and schedules overwhelmed my mind. I spent virtually all my time adjusting to this new normal. Self-absorbed does not adequately describe me during this Advent.

I haven’t felt much holiness hovering around me. I didn’t have time or space “for listening for the rustle of angels’ wings.” Yet, the transplant itself was a season somewhat like Advent . . . filled with expectation, preparation, anticipation. With Bethlehem’s star shining through the darkest night, and hope — always hope.

And so it was for people waiting for kidneys to renew their lives. Advent offered us a look at journey, a journey that ended in celebration. Celebration came full circle yesterday when I learned that my transplant was a part of a chain of living donors and kidney recipients. The chain included 16 people — donors and recipients — which means eight people got new kidneys. Perhaps that felt to me something like “the rustle of angels’ wings.”

And then it dawned on me that the Christ Child was not born into a world where everything always worked perfectly, where everything was orderly and neat and planned out. The Christ Child was not born into a world where everything was sacred. He was not born into a perfect family, and the people around his manger were not always holy.

Maybe that’s part of what Advent gives us:

the grace to be genuinely who we are — on our holy days and on days we feel not-so-holy. Maybe Advent beckons us to ready ourselves and to prepare our hearts with humbleness so that we can see “in the cold December darkness . . .

the Coming of Light, the Advent of Love!”

 

 

Advent, Angels, Comfort, Courage, Darkness, Emotions, Faith, God’s Gift of Stars, healing, Hope, Humbug, Kidney Transplant, Light, New Normal, Patience, Perseverance, Skies, Soul, Stars, struggle, Weeping

“Humbug!” and Hope!

Rev Kathy

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The Fourth Day of Advent
Transplant Day Twenty-three
December 4, 2019

IN DECEMBER DARKNESS

The whole world waits in December darkness
for a glimpse of the Light of God.
Even those who snarl “Humbug!”
and chase away the carolers
have been looking toward the skies.

The one who declared he never would forgive
has forgiven,
and those who left home
have returned,
and even wars are halted,
if briefly,
as the whole world looks starward.

In the December darkness
we peer from our windows
watching for an angel with rainbow wings
to announce the Hope of the World.

— Ann Weems

In this season of my life, it would be easy to snarl “Humbug!” and move on to ordinary, tedious, plodding daily living. It’s hard to look starward when pain is your nightly companion, sticking much too close in the darkness of night, the darkness of life. My words this morning are not Advent-inspired words. They are, pure and simple, a factual and real assessment of where I find myself. My most pressing question? How do I get from “Humbug!” to Hope?

It will require an extra measure of faith, patience and perseverance. It will require my willingness to welcome a new normal. It may call for a little extra weeping, a bit more courage, a wide-open soul and maybe even a few angels to illuminate the way ahead.

To be honest, I have to say that on top of my physical pain is my incessant emotional pain that whispers, “You are not okay!” over and over and over again. I know this is not very Advent-like. This view of my current health and well-being is most definitely not Advent-like. But instead of my constant post- transplant complaints and consternations, I want to look for the star in the night sky. I want to listen for the hope-filled sound of the heavenly host singing “Alleluia!” I want to be standing in awe of angels with rainbow wings.

All of this descriptive information is about my current emotional/physical/spiritual space. I know that I don’t want to stay here in this dark place. I know it’s a temporary, necessary time of moving into healing and wholeness. Still, it often feels like darkness. Much more like “Humbug!” than Hope!

So from this dark place, I will myself to look starward, even briefly. I will see past the December darkness. I plan to peer out of my transplant-veiled windows, watching for an angel with rainbow wings announcing the Hope of the World!

May Spirit make it so.

Community, Fear, Inspiration, journey, Kidney Transplant, Life Journeys, Life pathways, Terror

On Beauty and Terror

Rev Kathy

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Photo by Steven Nawojczyk.

Life is all about beauty and terror, each descending on us at will and rearranging everything. I think of the wise words of Frederick Buechner:

Here is the world. Beautiful and terrible things will happen. Don’t be afraid.

The constant picture in my mind is a rough, rocky path with unknown crooks and turns,  and the destination unseen. That image of life’s journey is enough to cause anyone fear, and though the path has its own beauty, it also holds the terror of unexpected twists on a rocky way.

For quite a long time, I have been facing a time of beauty and terror in the guise of my upcoming kidney transplant. How beautiful it is to know that a kidney donor is willingly offering a kidney to a stranger. At the same time, I nurse a small feeling of terror at times about the outcome of the surgery. Will I have pain? Will I recover quickly? Will the kidney work? Will I tolerate my lifelong immunosuppressant medications? Will the transplant really happen?

“Don’t be afraid” is indeed the strongest and best word of encouragement. It is quite wonderful when we reach a point in life — if ever we do — where fear is no longer our constant companion. The way to get there, I think, has everything to do with two things: enjoying a close relationship with God (something that is not always easy to accomplish); and being a part of a genuine, caring community. Being close to God and being encouraged by your community keeps fear at bay so that the beautiful part of living can emerge.

Richard Rohr would say that our “work” is to know God’s desire for us to live into the fullness of our humanity and our identity. In other words, recognize that our humanity is certainly open to fear, but be vigilant about claiming our identity as God’s own children. Because it is that identity, that holy relationship with God, that brings us the beautiful part of life.

Richard Rohr shares the words of one of his favorite poets, Rainer Maria Rilke:

God speaks to each of us as he makes us,
then walks with us silently out of the night.
These are the words we dimly hear:
You, sent out beyond your recall,
go to the limits of your longing.
Embody me.
Flare up like flame
and make big shadows I can move in.
Let everything happen to you: beauty and terror.
Just keep going. No feeling is final.
Don’t let yourself lose me.
Nearby is the country they call life.
You will know it by its seriousness.
Give me your hand.

“Let everything happen to you: beauty and terror,” the poet writes. This is surely the poetry of life: to admonish us to let it all happen, all the beauty, all the terror. Because God uses all of it, together, to create in me the person I am meant to be.

So the end of the story is this: I will get a transplant and I will let it all happen — all of it — so that the beauty and the terror can renew my life and embolden my spirit.

 

 

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On another note, please pray for me as I look toward my kidney transplant on November 15th. I am grateful that you are walking with me on this journey that often felt so frightening. Your thoughts and prayers mean so much. If you would like to read the story of my illness, please visit the Georgia Transplant Foundation’s website at this link:

://client.gatransplant.org/goto/KathyMFindley

A “Go Fund Me” page is set up for contribution to help with the enormous costs related to the transplant, including medications, housing costs for the month we have to stay near the transplant center, and other unforeseeable costs for my care following the transplant. If you can, please be a part of my transplant journey by making a contribution at this link:

https://bit.ly/33KXZOj

 

 

 

Change, Family, Friendship, life, Patience, struggle, Surprise, Waiting

Waiting

Rev Kathy

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Most people don’t really like waiting. Being stopped at one of those very long red lights can be frustrating. Waiting your turn in the grocery line is trying on the more impatient among us. Waiting for a wisp of autumn in the south — when it’s 100 degrees in late September — is particularly exasperating. But these are trivial waiting experiences.

There are persons who are waiting today for a diagnosis from their doctor. Students wait for results from important tests, hoping to at least get a passing grade. Others wait at the bedside of an elderly parent, hoping for and dreading that last breath. These are serious seasons of waiting, life-changing experiences of waiting.

There is at least one more example of waiting — the one I’m experiencing today. My waiting is an exciting, joyful waiting for the car full of my grandchildren to pull up in our driveway. I seldom get to see them, or my son, since they live 11 hours away in Little Rock, Arkansas. So this is a special waiting time. Today I’m waiting expectantly, joyfully, gleefully for my family. It’s the best kind of waiting.

These days whenever I ponder what it means to wait, my thoughts go immediately to my five years of waiting for a life-altering kidney transplant. In these years, my teacher has been faith and my lesson has been patience. I have managed to develop an abundance of patience that has served me in every area of my life.

Patience has not always been one of my strongest character traits, though. I used to have very little patience, and that reality led me to some very raucous encounters with other people. As a victim advocate, I was very trying on judges — to my detriment. As a hospital chaplain, I was insistent when a patient’s medication was delayed. I could cite many examples of my impatience causing upheaval.

Which leads me to my memories of Ethel. I will never forget Ethel — my parishioner, my friend, my sister, my mother — the one person who was loyal to me and protective of me to a fault. To Ethel, it seemed I could do no wrong. She was wrong about that, of course.

Ethel was with me during the difficult time when my church refused my request for ordination. For six months they refused in every way that could hurt me. Ethel was in my corner through every pain-filled business meeting, including the final one that sealed the church’s decision to decline the opportunity to ordain the first Baptist woman in Arkansas.

I was impatiently devastated and saw no way toward ordination or toward the continuation of my ministry as a chaplain. I was “surrounded by a cloud of witnesses” that had seen what I had endured from my church. They lifted me up with their prayers and their constant encouragement. Ethel, however, did more than pray for and encourage me. In the midst of holding my pain with me, Ethel brought up the important fact that I needed to learn patience. Ethel loved me enough to be honest, and so with Bible in hand, she gave me this gift:

For the vision is yet for the appointed time;
It hastens toward the goal and it will not fail.
Though it tarries, wait for it;
For it will certainly come, it will not delay.   (Habakkuk 2:3 NASB)

Wait for it, Ethel insisted, with a faith that knew exactly how to insist.

Wait for it!

She was right, as always.

So that is my personal experience of learning how to wait. It was a life lesson I needed to learn. And I did learn it (sort of). In the end, I did not become the first Baptist woman ordained in Arkansas, but I did become the first woman in Arkansas to serve as the pastor of a Baptist church. What a surprise from a constantly surprising God who did not intend for me to be a hospital chaplain, but instead led me into a nine-year ministry of being a pastor.

Today, though, I am just waiting for my beautiful grandchildren.

That’s the best surprise of all!

 

*************************************************

On another note, please pray for me as I wait for my kidney transplant. I am grateful that you are walking with me on this journey that often feels frightening. Your thoughts and prayers mean so much. If you would like to read the story of my journey at the Georgia Transplant Foundation’s website, please visit this link:

http://client.gatransplant.org/goto/KathyMFindley

A “Go Fund Me” page is set up for contributions to help with the enormous costs related to the transplant, including medications, housing costs near the transplant center, and other unforeseeable costs for my care following the transplant. If you can, please make a contribution at this link:

https://bit.ly/33KXZOj

 

Awakening, Call, Calling, Change, Discovering, journey, Kidney Transplant, life, Life pathways, Perseverance, Preaching, Rebirth, Self Awareness, Spiritual growth, Spirituality or Religion?, Transformation, Wholeness

“Me!”

Rev Kathy

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When I was younger, my primary life goal was to make people like me. It was something of an obsession, and it caused great harm to my spirit. For you see, I thought I had to be everyone else’s image of me. So “me” became changeable and malleable in the hands of a variety of other people. In my mind, they just had to like me.

The conundrum of life: how to accept that not everyone will like me. Maybe even most people won’t like me. So here’s the sad, but inevitable result: “me” became someone I didn’t even know. I lost myself in the impossible quest to be accepted and liked.

Then came the metamorphosis. It happened around age 47. I think what started it may have been reading the book by Sue Monk Kidd, The Dance of the Dissident Daughter.

My sisters in cyberspace, you should read that book. The thing that nearly frightened me enough to make me put the book away is the descriptor after the main title. So here’s the title of the book, in all of its feminist fullness: The Dance of the Dissident Daughter: A Woman’s Journey from Christian Tradition to the Sacred Feminine.

Well, when I read part of the book’s description — the “journey from the Christian tradition” part — it scared me to death! I had no intention at all to journey away from my Christian tradition.

I read the book anyway, and it changed my life and launched me into a journey I could never have envisioned. Sue Monk Kidd led me on an incredible, circuitous journey through fear, anger, healing, and eventually, awakening and transformation. Of course, I could never see myself turning away from my deep connection to what Kidd described as “the deep song of Christianity,” But I did discard the voices that kept me in my place, and kept me quiet, for so many years of my life.

When those discouraging, disparaging voices were silenced, I heard my own voice, finally. With clarity, my voice declared “me,” exactly the woman I was meant to be, precisely the woman God was calling to ministry. By embracing my full humanity and my spirituality — that looked very different than my religiosity had looked — I found myself.

“Me” was awakened, out in the open, in the middle of God’s world and smack dab in the center of God’s will. Oh my! Now no one would like me! When my words spoke Gospel truth, people didn’t like me. When I tenaciously followed God’s call to ordination, people didn’t like me. When I dared to preach (from a real pulpit) lots of people didn’t like me. When I worked as an advocate for women and children harmed by violence … well, no one at all liked me then because I refused to back down.

I like this quote from Denzel Washington:

“Some people will never like you because your spirit irritates their demons.”

There it is! The real, unadulterated truth! So as my spirit continued to irritate everyone’s demons, I was finally living my life as “me!” And that, my sisters, was a good place to be.

I hope you are in your own “good place.”

—————————————————————————

On another note, please pray for me as I await a life-saving kidney transplant. I am grateful that you are walking with me on this journey that often feels frightening. Your thoughts and prayers mean so much. If you would like to read the story of my illness at the Georgia Transplant Foundation’s website, please visit this link:

http://client.gatransplant.org/goto/KathyMFindley

A Go Fund Me page is set up for contributions to help with the enormous costs related to the transplant, including medications, housing costs near the transplant center, and other unforeseeable costs for my care following the transplant. If you can, please make a contribution at this link: 

https://bit.ly/33KXZOj

Beauty of Nature, Bible, Darkness, Ecclesiastes, Emotions, Faith, Gnat Line, God, Hope, Joy, Nature, simple joys, Skies

Blue Skies and Gentle Breezes

Rev Kathy

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Blue skies and gentle breezes. That’s Macon most of the time. Oh, and you have to factor in the gnats, the annoying gnats that we have because we live on the gnat line.

And there really is a such thing. Look it up. (http://southofthegnatline.blogspot.com/p/gnat-line-101_28.html) 

You will find that not only is the gnat line a real thing, but that it also sits directly on top of Macon, Georgia. No one told me that before I moved here.

Still, there are blue skies and gentle breezes this morning. For a few seconds, I am fully in the moment, fully aware of the blue skies over me and the warm breeze that points my mind to all that is good, to all the things about nature that we can count on.

Gnats notwithstanding.

In some ways, it’s a picture of life —the beauty of blue skies and gentle breezes, right along with the persistent aggravation of gnats buzzing your face. Certainly, life is like that for me. There are every day graces accompanied with aggravations, challenges and sometimes troubles. Life brings days of deep mourning sometimes and times for gladness at other times. 

Most thoughts these days take me to the very real possibility that I will receive a new kidney. The thought of it is both exhilarating and terrifying. I would not be me if I did not have the troubling thought that I might die in the middle of surgery. Or that I might contract a lethal infection and die of that. Or maybe I’ll be be compromised from the procedure and not recover.

On the other hand, maybe I’ll thrive with a new kidney. Maybe I will feel better than I have felt in five years. Maybe it’s true that I’ll live longer. Maybe life will begin again, fresh and new and full of possibilities. I love this message from the writer of Ecclesiastes.

So I commend the enjoyment of life, because there is nothing better for a person under the sun than to eat and drink and be glad. Then joy will accompany them in their toil all the days of the life God has given them under the sun.

— Ecclesiastes 8:15 (New International Version (NIV)

What a good and gracious thought! The promise that as we are enjoying life, joy will be in us through whatever “toil” we face. Struggle, trouble, travail — we experience all of these in life, right along with the joy.

So as I contemplate a kidney transplant, I might just think of it as one of life’s “toils” that, by God’s grace, will be accompanied by joy. 

I think I can do this. After all, “the joy of the Lord is my strength.” (Nehemiah 8:10)

Blue skies and gentle breezes all the way!

Pesky gnats notwithstanding!

 

 

Change, Comfort Zone, Dreams, Fear, Growth, Learning, Uncategorized

Becoming Our Better Selves

Rev Kathy

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I don’t usually write about charts in my blog. I’m not really a chart person at all. But my friend, Kim Rosby, recently sent me a chart that is worth contemplating. The chart is a snapshot of what it might look like when we become our better selves. It’s entitled “The Comfort Zone,” which is a place most of us want to be. 

That’s the problem. There is no growth and maturing in the comfort zone. It can become for us, not just comfortable, but also stagnant.

So I spent some time contemplating this provocative chart, and it definitely provoked some emotions in me. It appears that there are four zones that are possible for us:

  • The Comfort Zone
  • The Fear Zone
  • The Learning Zone
  • The Growth Zone

There you have it! So let’s unpack this chart a bit. When/if we manage to move ourselves out of the comfort zone, a place where we feel safe and in control, we will most likely enter the fear zone. In the fear zone, we are not at all sure of ourselves. We hang on the opinions of other people and use anything we can find as an excuse to remain frozen in place. If we don’t make a move, we can’t make a mistake. Right? We come to a point, though, where we do not believe we can move. We don’t believe we can change. We don’t believe we can seek another way.

Fortunately, some of us do make it out of the fear zone and thus find ourselves in the learning zone. What a renewing place to be, a place where new and fresh ideas are possible. It is in this zone that we realize we have moved at least a few steps past our comfort zone. We learn new skills and we discover that we can navigate challenges and solve problems. As long as we are learning, our path is clear and a future is possible.

So we move with courage into the growth zone, where we will re-invent ourselves in positive and exhilarating ways. As we conquer the objectives that were holding us back, we begin to believe in the possibility of new life goals, a deeper purpose. And then suddenly, we surprise ourselves with dreams and aspirations for something more in our lives, something fresh that inspires us to be our better selves.

I like my friend’s chart. I also like this promise that also says something very compelling about becoming our better selves:

 . . . I came that they might have life, and have it more abundantly.
—Jesus

 

 

Aging, Exclusion, Freedom, life, Possibilities, Retirement, Women

I Refuse to Disappear

Rev Kathy

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I refuse to disappear! All my life, I have experienced forces and people and systems that wished for my disappearance. As an advocate for victims of violence in the court and criminal justice systems, powerful people just wanted me to go away. As a child advocate, the foster care system definitely wanted me to disappear. As chair of the Little Rock Commission on Children, Youth and Families, the city power brokers wanted me gone so that they could pretend rather than acknowledge the reality of caring for the real needs of children and families.

As a pastor, I spoke truth every week, often controversial truth that the congregation might resist. I was never one to shrink back or hide. I was never willing to disappear when proclaiming the Gospel compelled me to speak. I was always fairly brave.

But I digress. The past is the past, and even now, in retirement, I often feel very much like people want me to disappear. I am resisting the way people do “placement,” that is the way people place me in a category called retirement. It feels as if others are most comfortable acknowledging my past career but forgetting that I still have talents and gifts and creativity. So here I sit — placed in one of three slots: 1) a carefree retiree that enjoys a traveling, active lifestyle; 2) a retired “old person” who can’t really do much anymore; or 3) a shut-in who is too disabled to be an active part of society.

But sitting has never been for me. I’m terrible at it. I have never allowed others to set me aside. I have never allowed people to insist on my disappearance.

These days, though, it’s a struggle. Invitations to preach or speak or teach are few and far between. It is true that I have health issues that slow me down. It is also true that a part of retirement includes challenges. But I want to resist being dismissed as irrelevant. I want to urge people to pay attention to my abilities. I want to continue my career in ways that are possible and appropriate for me. I do not want to disappear.

I refuse to be small and quiet. I refuse to hide my fire. I am still capable of disrupting the universe. I am still going to do the next right thing. 

I love these words shared by women just like me who simply won’t disappear. And I love the writing of Glennon Doyle who speaks a lot of truth, inspiring and uplifting truth. She calls out to women, especially, inviting us to be the persons we want to be even when outside forces try to hold us back. “It’s not a woman’s job,” she writes, “to get smaller and smaller until she disappears so the world can be more comfortable.”

Amen, Glennon!