Friday, January 25, 2013
TV blasts and waiting room clash
Today I sat in a waiting room while my husband was having out-patient surgery. We had never been in this facility before because fortunately we haven't had to make surgery a habit. The room was about the size of a large family room in a very big house. Chairs surrounded the outside parameters. A large flat screen TV was on one wall. In the middle of the room four rows of chairs were lined up facing the TV. It was almost like a theater...or a secularized church sanctuary. The TV was turned onto a morning talk show and the sound was loud enough so that people in the back rows had no trouble hearing. People like me who didn't really want to listen were also having no trouble hearing the rather superficial and insipid (in my opinion) conversations. No TV interview, as far as I could tell, went deeper than a few jokes and an advertisement for the next movie or book.
There was no place to get away from the noise. I couldn't wait in the cold car with the temperatures at a frigid 18 degrees F. My hopes for thoughtful journaling and concentrated prayer for my husband quickly evaporated. (Apparently ridiculously, unreasonable hopes.) I couldn't leave the room. I was required to remain in the waiting area to be called when my husband came out of surgery and moved into recovery. So sitting there in disappointment, I watched a dozen seemingly contented people glue their eyes to the screen. They seemed quiet and content. Was this supposed to relax me? What was the matter with me? There was one young man in the back corner who seemed to absorbed in a book he was reading. I envied him his concentration.
Somehow there was simply not space for what I needed.
I am not sure yet what my point is in writing this. Perhaps it is simply to say that I am more cognizant after today that somehow part of me did not share the same priorities as the prevailing waiting room culture. That there was no space for what I needed. That while I am at times as susceptible as anyone else to entertainment and addicting games (that is, I would have been this morning if my cell phone signal had not have been blocked), yet this morning I was simply out of place. That the TV swamped me with a flood of irrelevant (to me) words while I was instead longing for some quiet for thoughts...even prayer. Am I simply old and out of date? Or is this simply a difference of personal interests and tastes? Or do priorities influenced by faith have anything to do with my waiting room discontent?
I don't know. Tonight I don't have the answer, but I am relieved to be home---my husband with ice packs and pain meds, and myself with some quiet. :-).
Sunday, January 20, 2013
So why?
So why would I want to walk the American Discovery Trail through three states (or maybe 4, who knows?) Why can't I just do some walking around here? Walking is walking and it would certainly use less gas getting to and from the various parts of the trail....and making less of a carbon footprint is certainly a part of living more simply.
Excellent question. So before I talk myself out of this project when it's only just gotten started, here are a few things I noticed walking the ADT two weeks ago.
1. Not many people are aware of this trail. There are no signs that mark it. One expects hikers on the Appalachian Trail which is well marked, but not not on an ordinary winding road through residential areas on the way to Annapolis. This trail may not be in my back yard, but it is in the back (front) yards for a lot of folks, and I hope it becomes better known. It is unique in that it includes stops of cultural or historical interest along the way. I passed a coffee shop (not historical) on the last walk, but I kept walking because I didn't need coffee. Later I wondered if the shop owners even knew occasional hikers would be going by. There was a bench by the front door, and I wished I had stopped and told them about the trail and thanked them for the bench.
2. When I am walking on the ADT, I am aware that I may never pass by this way again. Therefore there is a certain alertness to discovery, an expectation of meeting new people, new sights. This kind of walking relates to the practice of appreciating the given moment, place or person. Too often in familiar situations, I think I know what will happen, what I will see around the corner, or what someone will say, and therefore my observation skills are on a minimal kind of automatic pilot. There's nothing like a walk in unfamiliar territory to wake up my level of awareness and appreciation, a practice I hope to increase in all areas of my life.
3. On a new walk, especially on sections like the one I'm doing where there are no specific trail markings and only written directions, one must pay close attention in order not to get lost. I didn't pay attention well enough last time and took a wrong turn. For me this relates to the spiritual practice of listening to God in order to follow the way of Christ in my life. If I don't listen well, I inevitably get doing in the wrong direction.
4. It's an adventure and a long-term goal. At my age any helpful incentive to keep walking and active is something to take seriously. I just might be reducing my carbon footprint by remaining more healthy....I'll have to think about that one a bit.
5. Because it means going to new places, it seems easier to set aside mentally rehashing the week's work and to truly have some sabbath rest. Part of that, again, comes with the paying attention that is required.
6. I need help doing this. I need Rick to pick me up at the other end and to be available to call when I get lost. He does photography in the meantime or meets me at various places. So all of that, along with the fact that it is simply a fun thing to do with my husband, means that I am looking forward to the next fair weather and free Friday on the ADT.
Excellent question. So before I talk myself out of this project when it's only just gotten started, here are a few things I noticed walking the ADT two weeks ago.
1. Not many people are aware of this trail. There are no signs that mark it. One expects hikers on the Appalachian Trail which is well marked, but not not on an ordinary winding road through residential areas on the way to Annapolis. This trail may not be in my back yard, but it is in the back (front) yards for a lot of folks, and I hope it becomes better known. It is unique in that it includes stops of cultural or historical interest along the way. I passed a coffee shop (not historical) on the last walk, but I kept walking because I didn't need coffee. Later I wondered if the shop owners even knew occasional hikers would be going by. There was a bench by the front door, and I wished I had stopped and told them about the trail and thanked them for the bench.
2. When I am walking on the ADT, I am aware that I may never pass by this way again. Therefore there is a certain alertness to discovery, an expectation of meeting new people, new sights. This kind of walking relates to the practice of appreciating the given moment, place or person. Too often in familiar situations, I think I know what will happen, what I will see around the corner, or what someone will say, and therefore my observation skills are on a minimal kind of automatic pilot. There's nothing like a walk in unfamiliar territory to wake up my level of awareness and appreciation, a practice I hope to increase in all areas of my life.
3. On a new walk, especially on sections like the one I'm doing where there are no specific trail markings and only written directions, one must pay close attention in order not to get lost. I didn't pay attention well enough last time and took a wrong turn. For me this relates to the spiritual practice of listening to God in order to follow the way of Christ in my life. If I don't listen well, I inevitably get doing in the wrong direction.
4. It's an adventure and a long-term goal. At my age any helpful incentive to keep walking and active is something to take seriously. I just might be reducing my carbon footprint by remaining more healthy....I'll have to think about that one a bit.
5. Because it means going to new places, it seems easier to set aside mentally rehashing the week's work and to truly have some sabbath rest. Part of that, again, comes with the paying attention that is required.
6. I need help doing this. I need Rick to pick me up at the other end and to be available to call when I get lost. He does photography in the meantime or meets me at various places. So all of that, along with the fact that it is simply a fun thing to do with my husband, means that I am looking forward to the next fair weather and free Friday on the ADT.
Friday, January 4, 2013
On to the ADT
On the way from Sandy Point State Park to Annapolis, MD
It seems to me that since Epiphany (the celebration of the wise men from the East journeying to see the Christ child) is only two days away in the church calendar, it would be a great time to start a journey of our own. Have you ever heard of the American Discovery Trail? (ADT) It runs from the Atlantic Ocean in Delaware to the Pacific in California. It is a trail cobbled together from country roads, bike trails, forest service roads, hiking trails and sometimes city streets. One can walk all of it, or bike some of it, or even drive parts of it, I suppose.
Anyway, my husband and I have downloaded the maps from Delaware through Ohio and our hope is to whittle away at covering the miles and seeing the sights. Okay, I should be honest. It is really my obsession, not his. He bikes some. And drives to spots to do photography. And explores. And provides navigational support, since the directions are not always easy. And waits hours for me. And picks me up when I am done. What do I do? I WALK!
The great news is that I have unwittingly covered 168 miles of the ADT when I hiked the C & O canal trail in 2008. (The ADT is made by linking together existing scenic and historic roads and trails.) So I'm thinking that a good winter project on some of my days off is to tackle the Maryland section from the Chesapeake Bay Bridge through Annapolis and on to D.C. where it joins the C&O in Georgetown.
Today was my first Friday off in ages when the sun was shining. Hurray! So I bundled up with my merino wool baselayer and insulating down jacket covered with a windbreaker to withstand the windchill, and we were on the road shortly after sunrise. We drove two hours to Sandy Point State Park where I gave Rick orders to take pictures of the huge bay bridge and I headed out on the road. It was great to get my walking rhythm back. The territory of today's walk was more populated than one might hope: lots of residential homes, some businesses, some large estates, yachts and boats in the water. And yet there were wildlife surprises. I passed a highway crew cleaning trash along the road. One guy was just staring into the woods. I greeted him as I passed and he said, "There's a fox out there." He pointed out through some bare, gray-barked trees where a red fox was standing on a log that crossed a tidal creek. The fox paused and stared at us for a moment before disappearing into the underbrush. Then, with mutual "Happy New Years," we humans went on with our labor and walk.
What does this have to do with wise men searching for the Christ child? They had to follow a star. I had to follow a set of written directions and I managed to get lost. I still say a road sign was angled the wrong direction, but the long and short of it is that I took a wrong turn and had to call Rick to see where I was. I ended up backtracking after going about a mile out of my way. Would following a star have been any easier?
The wise men confronted danger; when they went to Jerusalem, they spoke with Herod who was a murderous loose canon. I, on the other hand, only had to be extremely cautious and alert when the roads were busy and the shoulders narrow. I faced no dangerous political leaders, only fast cars.
The wise men were in strange territory and had to depend on hospitality. I could have used some hospitality. I didn't feel like I could sit on private property to eat my packed lunch, and so I just kept walking for the longest time. I should have stopped at the one church yard I passed and presumed upon their hospitality, but it was just a bit early for lunch break. Oh, well; now I know to take an opportunity when it presents itself. I suspect that some people thought I was a homeless person walking on a road and carrying a pack. I refused to stare at them staring at me. It is hard to be a walking traveler, so tonight I can sympathize with the traveling men from the east.
The wise men ended up finding the child Christ after their search. I don't know where this walk, done in pieces, will end up. I will keep you posted. But today, my husband climbed out of the truck to greet me as I walked into the park under the bridge that leads to Annapolis. That works for now.
It seems to me that since Epiphany (the celebration of the wise men from the East journeying to see the Christ child) is only two days away in the church calendar, it would be a great time to start a journey of our own. Have you ever heard of the American Discovery Trail? (ADT) It runs from the Atlantic Ocean in Delaware to the Pacific in California. It is a trail cobbled together from country roads, bike trails, forest service roads, hiking trails and sometimes city streets. One can walk all of it, or bike some of it, or even drive parts of it, I suppose.
Anyway, my husband and I have downloaded the maps from Delaware through Ohio and our hope is to whittle away at covering the miles and seeing the sights. Okay, I should be honest. It is really my obsession, not his. He bikes some. And drives to spots to do photography. And explores. And provides navigational support, since the directions are not always easy. And waits hours for me. And picks me up when I am done. What do I do? I WALK!
The great news is that I have unwittingly covered 168 miles of the ADT when I hiked the C & O canal trail in 2008. (The ADT is made by linking together existing scenic and historic roads and trails.) So I'm thinking that a good winter project on some of my days off is to tackle the Maryland section from the Chesapeake Bay Bridge through Annapolis and on to D.C. where it joins the C&O in Georgetown.
Today was my first Friday off in ages when the sun was shining. Hurray! So I bundled up with my merino wool baselayer and insulating down jacket covered with a windbreaker to withstand the windchill, and we were on the road shortly after sunrise. We drove two hours to Sandy Point State Park where I gave Rick orders to take pictures of the huge bay bridge and I headed out on the road. It was great to get my walking rhythm back. The territory of today's walk was more populated than one might hope: lots of residential homes, some businesses, some large estates, yachts and boats in the water. And yet there were wildlife surprises. I passed a highway crew cleaning trash along the road. One guy was just staring into the woods. I greeted him as I passed and he said, "There's a fox out there." He pointed out through some bare, gray-barked trees where a red fox was standing on a log that crossed a tidal creek. The fox paused and stared at us for a moment before disappearing into the underbrush. Then, with mutual "Happy New Years," we humans went on with our labor and walk.
What does this have to do with wise men searching for the Christ child? They had to follow a star. I had to follow a set of written directions and I managed to get lost. I still say a road sign was angled the wrong direction, but the long and short of it is that I took a wrong turn and had to call Rick to see where I was. I ended up backtracking after going about a mile out of my way. Would following a star have been any easier?
The wise men confronted danger; when they went to Jerusalem, they spoke with Herod who was a murderous loose canon. I, on the other hand, only had to be extremely cautious and alert when the roads were busy and the shoulders narrow. I faced no dangerous political leaders, only fast cars.
The wise men were in strange territory and had to depend on hospitality. I could have used some hospitality. I didn't feel like I could sit on private property to eat my packed lunch, and so I just kept walking for the longest time. I should have stopped at the one church yard I passed and presumed upon their hospitality, but it was just a bit early for lunch break. Oh, well; now I know to take an opportunity when it presents itself. I suspect that some people thought I was a homeless person walking on a road and carrying a pack. I refused to stare at them staring at me. It is hard to be a walking traveler, so tonight I can sympathize with the traveling men from the east.
The wise men ended up finding the child Christ after their search. I don't know where this walk, done in pieces, will end up. I will keep you posted. But today, my husband climbed out of the truck to greet me as I walked into the park under the bridge that leads to Annapolis. That works for now.
Tuesday, January 1, 2013
A New Year's prayer
Family and friends (whether or not we've met face to face):
This is one of my favorite prayers from the Lutheran hymnal. It seems fitting for a new year as unpredictable as ours. A colleague has taught me to add the "joy" part and I have; given God's love, there is always joy in our journey, even if it is hidden for a time:
God's blessings in the new year...
This is one of my favorite prayers from the Lutheran hymnal. It seems fitting for a new year as unpredictable as ours. A colleague has taught me to add the "joy" part and I have; given God's love, there is always joy in our journey, even if it is hidden for a time:
"O God, you have called your servants to ventures of which we cannot see the ending, by paths as yet untrodden, through (joys and) perils unknown. Give us faith to go out with good courage, not knowing where we go, but only that your hand is leading us and your love supporting us; through Jesus Christ our Lord. Amen"
God's blessings in the new year...
Sunday, December 23, 2012
Advent day 22: Christmas eve's eve
And Mary sang: "My soul magnifies the Lord and my spirit rejoices in God my Savior,
for he has looked with favor on the lowliness of his servant.
Surely, from now on all generations will call me blessed,
for the Mighty One has done great things for me and holy is his name.
His mercy is for those who fear him from generation to generation.
He has shown strength with his arm;
he has scattered the proud in the thoughts of their hearts.
He has brought down the powerful from their thrones and lifted up the lowly.
He has filled the hungry with good things, and sent the rich away empty.
He has helped his servant Israel, in remembrance of his mercy.
according to the promise he made to our ancestors,
to Abraham and his descendants forever. " Luke 1:46-55.
And so we come to the last part of Mary's song. In this last sentence she speaks of God's help, God's mercy and God's promise. These are three good things to take with us into an uncertain year ahead. Mary would certainly need God's help, mercy and promise on more than one occasion in the months ahead of her. As will we. Where do you need God's help? Where have you seen God's mercy? What promise of God gives you encouragement as you move into the future? Take time to write and pray about this before the end of the year.
It has been a good practice for me to memorize Mary's song over the past few weeks, and it has been a challenging discipline to post on this blog everyday as I reflected on what the words I trying to learn by heart. Doing so has forced me to take time away from the seasonal busyness to slow down and do some thinking and praying. For those of you who have walked through this advent journey with me, thank you for your quiet companionship. I hope your hearts are feeling more prepared for the coming celebration.
And now it is time to celebrate! Christ's first coming is such good news it needs a great festivity and some beautiful music. Sing and celebrate heartily tomorrow on Christmas eve.
I will take a break from posting over the rest of the month but will back after the new year. Blessings!
Saturday, December 22, 2012
Advent day 21: On empty
And Mary sang: "My soul magnifies the Lord and my spirit rejoices in God my Savior,
for he has looked with favor on the lowliness of his servant.
Surely, from now on all generations will call me blessed,
for the Mighty One has done great things for me and holy is his name.
His mercy is for those who fear him from generation to generation.
He has shown strength with his arm;
he has scattered the proud in the thoughts of their hearts.
He has brought down the powerful from their thrones and lifted up the lowly.
He has filled the hungry with good things, and sent the rich away empty." Luke 1:46-53.
God "has filled he hungry with good things and sent the rich away empty." An ominous warning? Maybe, especially if one lives in one of the wealthiest countries on earth. But perhaps it is also an invitation.
Mary's words remind me of the gospel story (Mark 10) where a rich young man came to talk to Jesus (Mary's son). The man wanted to know what he had to do to be a part of this abundant life Jesus kept talking about. He was, you might say, hungry for more. So Jesus invited him to sell all he had, give to the poor and come follow him, saying he would have treasures in heaven, but the man walked sadly away, presumably because he couldn't leave his wealth.
He has "sent the rich away empty," Mary said. Or do we send ourselves?
A friend posted this quote recently:
for he has looked with favor on the lowliness of his servant.
Surely, from now on all generations will call me blessed,
for the Mighty One has done great things for me and holy is his name.
His mercy is for those who fear him from generation to generation.
He has shown strength with his arm;
he has scattered the proud in the thoughts of their hearts.
He has brought down the powerful from their thrones and lifted up the lowly.
He has filled the hungry with good things, and sent the rich away empty." Luke 1:46-53.
God "has filled he hungry with good things and sent the rich away empty." An ominous warning? Maybe, especially if one lives in one of the wealthiest countries on earth. But perhaps it is also an invitation.
Mary's words remind me of the gospel story (Mark 10) where a rich young man came to talk to Jesus (Mary's son). The man wanted to know what he had to do to be a part of this abundant life Jesus kept talking about. He was, you might say, hungry for more. So Jesus invited him to sell all he had, give to the poor and come follow him, saying he would have treasures in heaven, but the man walked sadly away, presumably because he couldn't leave his wealth.
He has "sent the rich away empty," Mary said. Or do we send ourselves?
A friend posted this quote recently:
“If we only had eyes to see and ears to hear and wits to understand,...we would know that the Kingdom of God is what we all of us hunger for above all other things even when we don’t know its name or realize that it’s what we’re starving to death for. The Kingdom of God is where our best dreams come from and our truest prayers. We glimpse it at those moments when we find ourselves being better than we are and wiser than we know. We catch sight of it when at some moment of crisis a strength seems to come to us that is greater than our own strength. The Kingdom of God is where we belong. It is home, and whether we realize it or not, I think we are all of us homesick for it.”Well said, brother Frederick.
-- Frederick Buechner
Friday, December 21, 2012
Advent day 20: I'm hungry
And Mary sang: "My soul magnifies the Lord and my spirit rejoices in God my Savior,
for he has looked with favor on the lowliness of his servant.
Surely, from now on all generations will call me blessed,
for the Mighty One has done great things for me and holy is his name.
His mercy is for those who fear him from generation to generation.
He has shown strength with his arm;
he has scattered the proud in the thoughts of their hearts.
He has brought down the powerful from their thrones and lifted up the lowly.
He has filled the hungry with good things, and sent the rich away empty." Luke 1:46-53.
For my birthday last summer my husband gave me a clear plastic bird feeder that attaches with suction cups to the window. I filled it with sunflower seeds and waited...and waited. Days dragged into weeks and weeks dragged into months. One day my husband reported that he had seen a cardinal at the feeder. A couple of weeks later I saw a cardinal too. A few weeks later it started---a crowd of feathered creatures sometimes waiting their turn in the butterfly bush, sometimes diving into the feeder with a flutter and annoying another out. Titmouse, chickadee, goldfinch, house finch, wren had found a good place to eat.
Sometimes good food simply isn't available to us. And so we have food pantries and soup kitchens. We teach creative farming methods in countries where many are hungry. We care for depleted soil. We literally follow Christ's call to feed those who are hungry, trusting that one day there will be enough for everyone.
Other times, however, our stomachs are full but our souls are malnourished. It can take a long time to learn where the good soul food is to eat. It's hard to believe that what our hearts really need is God's very self. God? That's gotta be boring we think for the longest time. We don't notice how God's forgiveness and healing is food for everyday. We doubt we need to hear God's word in the morning. There is always somewhere to be and something to do. It takes a long time to realize that the entertainment and busyness we think will bring satisfaction and success does not in the end feed our souls.
I'm not sure what in the end led the birds to the inconspicuous feeder, but at some point they began to communicate the good news to one another. Nor is it always clear what brings us to the realization that our souls are hungry for God. A friend's words? God's grace? the Holy Spirit? Good news? However it happens, people begin to gather in groups around word and communion to love God and love neighbor, and we discover this to be as necessary as bread. It is what gives us life.
God has filled the hungry with good things, sings Mary, and sent the rich away empty.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)


