Arts Festival

Had I not been privileged enough be be there and participate in it,  I probably would never have known exactly what an "arts festival" is.

 I participated in just such an event yesterday.  Artists of all kinds were invited to focus on some verse of Psalm 139 and bring it to life in their art.

Art, in this case was defined as marvelous music, both adult and children,
arts and crafts made by children, watercolor paintings,  oil paintings,  carvings,  needlepoint, quilting,
lots of photographs projected for each verse, organ music,
a solo on the entire psalm;
a dramatic duo reciting the entire psalm, poetry.

The artists/participants each wore a special name tag, made just for them.  I cannot tell you how thrilling it was to have after my name, the word Poet!   I have written poetry since I was a young child.  I have published poetry;   I even won a writing contest a few years ago for a poem,  but never have I seen my name with Poet after it!  I have always thought of poetry as something I do,  but never have I thought of it as someone I am!

The small city in which I live is very big on "the arts" and several of the churches have what is called an "Arts Series" in which they put together cultural offerings for the community.  Often these are musical groups of various kinds, and not usually are they based on anything specifically 'religious'.  So this particular idea.....an arts festival based on a psalm...was a very bold adventure, to say the least.

For a Sunday afternoon,  I actually thought the attendance was very good!  There is one thing for sure---those who came would not have gone away disappointed!

It was a very moving event.   I am thankful to know and be part of such a gifted and talented group of people.  They are also tirelessly dedicated.

Thanks to all you guys, for a unique and inspirational program!

TV Goes Gruesome

I'll admit that I  (used to) enjoy watching television and find it relaxing in the evenings.   I generally don't watch during the day.  There have been a few shows during the week that I enjoy,  or get hooked on,  or like the characters.   Usually my favorites get cancelled.

 I loved Brothers and Sisters--cancelled.  I enjoyed the ensemble cast on Private Practice--cancelled.   But increasingly,  a show that I might have started off watching,  I end up being unable to continue watching (Body of Proof).

I simply cannot handle watching anything that is really gory.  It seems that the police shows, the crime solving shows, the medical examiner shows, the medical shows all are in the mode of amp-ing up the gore.   It appears that with each season,  the producers feel the need to continually increase the gruesome-ness---with more blood and body parts and violence and edginess.

I watched a show last night.....(or more accurately, listened to most of it...couldn't look) and there were horrible torture scenes.   This is season two of that show.  The first year was not like that at all.  I am so disappointed.  I also had terrible nightmares!  There are two shows left until the season is over.  I'm not sure that I can, or care to watch those last two shows.  It is so deeply disturbing!

The best show on television, in my humble opinion, is Downton Abbey on PBS,  but the season is a few short weeks long, and then one has to wait an entire year to see those characters again!  (the ones that don't get killed off!!).

What a disappointment American television has become!  I suppose we get de-sensitized to it after a while, at least to some degree.  I sometimes wonder what those who come to this country from other places think when they see those shows on TV.

I know we don't live in the 50's any more.  And we don't live in Kansas.   And I'm not the demographic they target.  But, oh for something wholesome, or just half way decent, to watch on television!

Is that really too much to ask???

What I Thought I Wanted

When I retired five years ago, I thought that I still wanted to be in ministry.....just not in a full time, or long term appointment.  Rather, I believed, I wanted to do interim ministry.

For the first two years, I did have those opportunities within my tradition.  But my denomination was in the midst of great change.  It became four times as large, considerably less collegiate,  and as a retiree soon my own connection to it waned.

As I reflect on all that has transpired, and think about where I am now, relative to where I want to be in my life,  I conclude that sometimes it is a very good thing when you do not get what you want!   If indeed,  I had gotten numerous interim opportunities in my own denominational tradition,  that would have meant three months here, six months there, 6 weeks here and there and lots of time on the road.  In other words, I would have been a permanent transient.   And for this stage of my life, that is definitely not what I really want.

What I really want is to be part of a community,  to be part of a church community,  to make new friends, to use my gifts and talents, and to serve.   Ironically,  I would not have all those things if I had gotten what I originally thought I wanted!

So the lesson here is:   What you think you want may not really be what you actually want!  In other words, be careful what you ask for.

I love the connections I have now, the activities,  the opportunities, and the new friends.  These were not part of my original plan!

Clearly, God knows better than I do.  That has always been true, though sometimes I forget!

Buds

I love buds.  Buds are like babies.

 You know something is coming, but you don't yet know exactly what it looks like.  Buds unfold in stages.  First they are born (appear), and then they sit up, crawl, toddle...unfolding slowly over time, like buds opening up.

 Babies become personalities and people.  Buds become flowers and trees.

Buds are one of my favorite parts of spring  When grass turns green.  And birds sing.

 Buds poke their way up out of the earth, gingerly at first.

 Crocus show their heads, and then daffodils.  Tulips come.  In time, the rhododendrun puts on her finest gown of bright pink and struts her stuff, going to the ball!

Buds emerge in every color and size and shape.  Each has its own name and promise.

Buds don't last for long, so you have to watch them carefully.   In the wink of a sunny day, there they are, full grown!

(Not unlike babies who become adults!)

Buds are plants waiting to be born.

Loving buds is-----to enjoy being pregnant, in a strange sort of way.

So,  how's that for a young spring day?

Inconceivable

I am.....flabbergasted, floored, flummoxed.   I am shocked, stupefied, sad, sympathetic.  I am confused and confounded.  I am overwhelmed by the sense of loss.  Loss of life, of limb, of innocence.  Loss of security.

There just aren't any words to adequately describe the stupidity, horror, senselessness of the Boston Marathon bombings.

We all want to know....who?  Why,  why, why?

It is beyond my ability to comprehend what sort of perverse mind could find any kind of satisfaction from the destruction of human life, from killing innocent bystanders, by killing and maiming children.

I'm not sure there will ever be any answer.  Even if there is,  in terms of a person apprehended, and a reason given,  I still don't think I will be able to fathom that kind of evil, or hatred, or anger, or intent.  And I suppose it is a very good thing that I cannot get into that person's mind, which is surely dark and demonic and desperate and deadly.

And so we try to make sense of it as best we can---to find something good in there somewhere.  And we find it.

There are always plenty of people who run into the chaos to help others.  One cowardly villain can produce a whole host of heroes.  We care for one another and worry about one another's safety.  A stranger steps up and holds the hand of a man who has lost his leg, stemming the flow of blood,  never leaving his side.  Another walks five blocks carrying an injured child to find an ambulance.  Hospitals and staffs use all their training and preparation, their abilities and resources to bring to bear healing in the chaos.

We reach out and call and give and share.  We grieve.  Oh, how we grieve!

Cards, calls,  flowers, hugs overflow.  Comfort is given and received.  Prayers abound.  Abound!

People get up and face another day.

There is courage in the going on.   Even if it is the only choice we have.

Brunch

Lately, I've been seeing a bunch of recipes on Facebook!  That is something new.  I've even tried a couple of them.  (A favorite was a recipe for One Cookie!)

This weekend, daughter and son-in-law are visiting.  Because of their Saturday evening dinner plans, we decided that our meal together would be a mid-day Saturday brunch.    And I decided to use a recipe I had gotten off of Facebook.

So after a very cold but fun hour of outdoor tennis, we came home to Brunch.

This is one of those rare occasions when I actually remembered to take a picture of the food.  V&M do that all the time.   I have noticed on F'Book that many others also take pictures and post them of especially nice dishes, or baked items, or restaurant meals.

My "egg cups"  (don't know the real name) turned out so well, I have decided to post my picture.  The "cup" is made from hash browned potatoes baked in a cupcake pan, and then filled with scrambled eggs.

We also had bacon, toast, melon, etc. with the main dish.   So here are my cute little egg cups.

Grumpy Button

I have discovered recently that I have a "grumpy button".     It was so strange to discover that I have a button that I didn't even know that I have!

There have been a number of different things lately that have gotten my grumpy up and going.

A good friend insulted me.   The alarm clock woke me up too early.    I didn't get enough sleep.

On one day in particular, a number of things all happened and I realized that by the middle of the afternoon that I felt very very grumpy.

 I didn't remember previously having that kind of a grumpy feeling.  It had a physical manifestation,  settled in like a lump in my gut.  Grrrrrr---uuuummmmmppeeeeeee!

If I were a dog, I would have growled, barked.   If I were a cat I would have hissed and pounced.   If I were a porcupine, I would have gotten my needles up.

I was so stuck in there,  that it took me quite a while to shake it off.  I'm usually a very optimistic and cheerful  person.   I try to live an upright and upbeat life.

But I suddenly found myself surrounded by an overwhelmingly dark cloud of  negativity. (people)  So I was then negative by association.

And that is what made me grumpy.

Vase of Flowers

Today I am the recipient of these beautiful funeral flowers.  They were flowers provided by the family for the service at which I officiated yesterday for "Lee".  Receiving 'special occasion' flowers was often a wonderful "perk" of parish ministry.  Sometimes they were left at the church from weddings or other special events.  When I once tried to envision my "ideal perfect life",  it included fresh flowers every day.  I have certainly enjoyed more than my share!

"Lee" was a lovely gentleman who reached the ripe old age of 99 years!  Because he was an avid SU Orange fan until the bitter end,  the family paid homage with the orange and blue color scheme in this floral arrangement.

I cherish these beautiful flowers.  As I held them in my lap on the way home from church, I especially noticed the lovely intricate details of the blue delphinium, as if each one wore a special "fairy hat".

One of the tall delphinium branches got bent over in the transition to home. (I guess that symbolizes the SU loss;  and maybe even suffering from illness) In a way,  this makes me think that even in defeat,  there is still much to be appreciated, much beauty.

And even in death, resurrection!