Home

I’m no longer homeless.  At the end of my day, I go home.  To my place.  For the first time in 7 months – nearly eight, all my belongings are in the same place.  I am sleeping in my bed.  I have a permanent address.  Slowly, boxes are being unpacked, dishes are going into kitchen cupboards, and everything is finding it’s place.  Faulkner is settling in and realizing that each morning after my shower, we go for a walk and each evening when I get home, we go for another.  We are settling in; nesting.  We are home.

I am centered.  I feel happier.  I am more at peace.  Nothing else in my life has changed except that I moved into my own apartment.  There is a lot of chaos in my life.  I'm juggling a lot of responsibilities.  I'm still struggling financially.  I'm still working through a lot of emotions.  But I no longer feel displaced or unsettled.  I belong.  I have a home.

I have a better understanding of what it must feel like to experience homelessness and although I say I was homeless, I wasn’t really.  I had friends who welcomed me into their home and treated me as if it was my home too.  I was never in danger of being on the street.  I was never at risk of going hungry, being cold or wet or in physical danger.  For me it was an emotional/spiritual homelessness.  But for the thousands of men and women and children everyday who are truly homeless, it’s emotional and spiritual and mental and physical.

God gave me a small sense of what homelessness is like so that as I’m working with congregations to develop affordable housing the agitation I already felt about homelessness would be more intense than it used to be.  The appreciation for home I thought I had, would be considerably more intense than it used to be.  God wanted me to really get it.

Lord, may I pour these passions into my work in ways that will result in congregations responding to your call to get involved so that one day, no one will be without a home. 

Everyone needs a home.  Everyone.

Keys

Keys connect us to places that we belong.  We have a key to our home; to our work; to our car.  The keys that dangle from our chain tell a story about our life – where we come from and where we go.  Sometimes people have a lot of keys and we think that they must be really important, that they are connected to a lot of places, that they have permission to get into places that others aren’t able to access.

When I arrived back in Washington right before Christmas it dawned on me that I only had one key.  A key to my car.  I no longer had a home so of course, I didn’t have a house key.   I didn’t have a job, so I no longer had a key to a church, or a building.  I no longer belonged anywhere.  I simply had a car key.  The fact that I was homeless and jobless – completely displaced hit home.  That was a somber aha moment for me.  I only had one key; my car key. 

Yesterday I signed a lease for an apartment and I was given the key to my new home.  Although I’ve been living with my friends Dave and Carol for 7 months now and I’ve had a key to their home, it hasn’t been my home.  They have been very gracious and hospitable but staying with someone else is not the same as having your own home.  Having a key to someone else’s home is not the same as having a key to your own home.

I haven’t lived in an apartment since my early 20’s.  My apartment is very small.  It is 650 square feet.  And yet to me it is a castle.  It is my space.  My home.  God has worked wonders over the last 7 months.  He has changed me.  My idea of home has changed.  My idea of what I need has changed.  I just need a space to be.  I just need a key that reminds me that I belong somewhere; that I have a place to go and a place to come from each and every day.  I just need a key that connects me to a place that I belong.  That's all I need.

Heartfelt Listening

Sitting in a hospital lab waiting to get a blood test I needed for my chaplaincy internship this afternoon, the Lord chose to bless me through the life of a stranger.  A tall, attractive black woman, probably about my age came in with a nurse.  The nurse was explaining that this was where she would get her blood work and then further down the hall was where she would get her CAT scan and x-ray.  She patted her hand and said that everything would be alright and she left. 

As the woman turned and walked toward the chair next to me I could tell she was overwhelmed.  I smiled at her and said hello.  She smiled, sat down, and sighed a very deep and layered sigh.  “It sounds like you’re having a rough day,” I said.  She looked at me and seemed thankful I had spoken to her.  “It’s been unbelievable,” she said.  “So far, I’ve had an EKG and an MRI, and now I’m getting lab work, a CAT scan, and then an X-ray.  Then on July 15^th they are taking out half of one of my lungs.  They found a spot and told me I have cancer.  I just can’t believe it.”

She needed to talk and I was there.  “I’ve never smoked,” she said.  She wept a little and she held onto me with her eyes.  I was just there.  I listened.  I let her know that I heard her heart and not just her words.

And then they called my name.  “Debra.” 

“Just a minute,” I said.  The lab tech could wait.   “I would like to pray for you if you don’t mind.  What’s your first name?”  I asked.  “Emma," she said.  "Would you do that?”  So I took a moment and prayed with her.  She squeezed my hand and thanked me.  We smiled with our eyes and I told her I would keep her in my prayers and to take care of herself.

And so my time as a chaplain began before it started.  And I was blessed.

Listening for the Heartbeat of God   by John Philip Newell

One of the most precious teachings in the Celtic Christian world is the memory of John the Beloved leaning against Jesus at the Last Supper.  It was said of him that he therefore heard the heartbeat of God.  He became a symbol of the practice of listening—listening deep within ourselves, listening deep within one another, listening deep within the body of the earth for the beat of the Holy.  Do we know, each one of us, that we are bearers of the sacred beat of life?  Do we know that we can honor that beat in one another and in all things?  And do we know that it is this combination—of knowing that we are bearers of Presence and of choosing to honor the Presence in one another—that holds the key to transformation in our lives and world?

To listen for the heartbeat of God is to listen both within the vastness of the universe and within the intimacy of our own hearts.  And it is to know these distinct ways of listening as essentially one, as two aspects of the same posture of consciousness.  The deeper we move in the mystery of our soul, the closer we come to hearing the beat of the cosmos; and the more we expand our awareness into the vastness of the universe, the closer we come to knowing the unbounded Presence at the heart of our being and every being.

Excerpts from A New Harmony: The Spirit, the Earth and the Human Soul.  San Francisco: Jossey-Bass, 2011.

What Do You Notice?

Gratitude and ingratitude are tied to what we notice. 

I read this recently and it resonated with me because I know it's true.  Gratitude and ingratitude are tied to what we notice.  I can point to times in my life - some very recent, where I saw the negative.  I focused on the hard things, the things I didn't like, the negative traits in people, the discouraging stuff happening in my life.  It was no coincidence that these times were times of ingratitude.  Times of bitterness and disappointment.  Times of negativity.  Dark times.  Yes, these were times when I was struggling; times when hard stuff was happening in my life.  But I have to wonder, did the things I notice make these periods in my life harder?  Darker?  More negative?  What would it have been like if during these times of struggle, I would have focused on seeing the good?

I can also point to times in my life when I do see the good.  Times when I focus on the positive things, the beauty around me, the good in people, the amazing things happening in my life.  These are the times when I see God's presence in my life; when I see His hand in the ordinary.  These are the times when I am filled with gratitude.  True, these are times when life is a little easier; times when things are coming together in my life; times when I'm feeling good about myself.  It's not like I don't have worries or struggles or problems during these times but, I'm not feeling overwhelmed.  I have to wonder, are things better because I am choosing to see the good more than the bad?  Are things better because I am choosing to feel gratitude for all that I have?  To feel positive rather than focus on the negative? 

When my daughters were very young, life was tough.  It would have been easy to be negative; to be bitter and disappointed.  It would have been easy to give up.  But I didn't want to be that kind of Mom.  So I kept a "Blessing Journal".  Every night, I wrote down 3 blessings for the day - no matter what kind of day I had. Some nights,  my blessings were pretty awesome.  And some nights I had to work pretty hard to come up with 3.  But I always found 3 things each night that I was grateful for - a bed to go to sleep in, a car that hadn't broken down that day, the bag of groceries left on the porch.  My Blessing Journal helped keep me focused on the good in my life.  It helped me see God's presence.  It helped me remember all that I had to be thankful for - in the midst of the hard.  

And now, 20 some years later, my Blessing Journals are fun to read.  I have a pile of journals to browse through and remember all the things in my life that I have to be thankful for because, those things still exist in my life.  It helps to remember just how faithful God was back in those days and to see that He continues to be faithful today.  

I've lost that practice of journaling my blessings.  It was a good one.
     Gratitude and ingratitude are tied to what we notice.  What do you notice?

Great is Thy faithfulness,” O God my Father,
There is no shadow of turning with Thee;
Thou changest not, Thy compassions, they fail not
As Thou hast been Thou forever wilt be.

• “Great is Thy faithfulness!” “Great is Thy faithfulness!“
    Morning by morning new mercies I see;
  All I have needed Thy hand hath provided—
      “Great is Thy faithfulness,” Lord, unto me!

Source: http://www.hymnal.net/hymn.php/h/19#ixzz2YE1CqOy2

Oatmeal Cookies

I went to the dentist today.  Big deal, you say!  Well, actually it was.  I hadn't been to the dentist in 9 years.  It happens when you don't have dental insurance or the money to pay for it yourself.  So, I've tried to take care of my teeth the best I can and just hope they would be O.K.  I've had teeth that have hurt quite a bit through the years but after a while, they've stopped hurting.  In fact, until a couple of months ago I had a tooth that was hurting quite a bit.  Then one day, half of it fell out and it stopped hurting.  As weird or gross as that may sound, it was a blessing because the pain stopped.

So, when I learned that one of the benefits of my new job was dental insurance I was pretty excited.  I could get my teeth cleaned for the first time in 9 years.  Today was the day.  I was nervous.  No offense to dentists but a bad experience with a country dentist as a kid has left me terrified.  And, I was embarrassed because it had been so long and I was a bit nervous about what  condition my teeth might be in.

I went to a dentist one of my co-workers recommended.   The staff was great and the hygienist told me my teeth looked pretty good for 9 years.  She cleaned the bottom teeth and told me I would need to come back for the top but first the dentist would do his check-up.  

Dr. Winskill came to my chair and introduced himself.  This was the first time we met.  He asked me if any of my teeth were bothering me.  "Not anymore," I said.  And I told him about my tooth.  "Mmmm,"  he said.  "I don't really like hearing that."  He started checking my teeth and said to the hygienist.  "Yes, we will need a pin and crown in #14."  As soon as he got out of my mouth, I said,  "I won't be able to do get that fixed but that's O.K. because it really doesn't bother me."  "Mmmm,"  Dr. Winskill said.

He finished checking out my teeth, straightened out my chair and said, "Are you a good cookie baker?"  What a strange question!  I looked at him oddly and said, "Yes.  I think I am."  "Do you make good oatmeal cookies?"  (I'm thinking this is really weird).  "I do!" I said.  "Well, I love oatmeal cookies," he said.  "I will trade you oatmeal cookies for a crown."

I started laughing because of course he was joking!  "I'm serious," he said.  "Oatmeal cookies for a crown."   His hygienist looked at me and said, "He's serious."  I started crying (I know!) and said, "Why would you do that?"

Dr. Winskill looked at me and said, "Because I want to fix your tooth.  You haven't been to a dentist in 9 years and your teeth look pretty good except that one.  I want to fix it.  You bring me cookies and I will fix your tooth."  And he just walked away.

This is a dentist who has never met me before.  He doesn't know me.  He doesn't know anything about me.  Why would he do this?  Why would he choose to bless me in this incredibly amazing way?

I choose to believe that God is still telling me that He is journeying with me.  That He is taking each step with me.  That He is providing for me.  That He is and will continue to take care of me.  It doesn't matter what it is  - a job that gives me meaning; my stuff from Casper to Tacoma; a tooth; or that place of my own that I'm praying for in August.  God has it covered.

And Dr. Winskill.  I just hope he loves my oatmeal cookies as much as I will love baking them.  I think oatmeal cookies might become my favorite, too!

Matthew 6:25-34   "Therefore I tell you, do not worry about your life, what you will eat or drink; or about your body, what you will wear. Is not life more important than food, and the body more important than clothes?  Look at the birds of the air; they do not sow or reap or store away in barns, and yet your heavenly Father feeds them. Are you not much more valuable than they?  Who of you by worrying can add a single hour to his life? "And why do you worry about clothes? See how the lilies of the field grow. They do not labor or spin. Yet I tell you that not even Solomon in all his splendor was dressed like one of these. If that is how God clothes the grass of the field, which is here today and tomorrow is thrown into the fire, will he not much more clothe you, O you of little faith?  So do not worry, saying, 'What shall we eat?' or 'What shall we drink?' or 'What shall we wear?' For the pagans run after all these things, and your heavenly Father knows that you need them.  But seek first his kingdom and his righteousness, and all these things will be given to you as well.  Therefore do not worry about tomorrow, for tomorrow will worry about itself. Each day has enough trouble of its own. 

New Life

Recently, I blogged on my new appreciation for the importance of a kitchen table and the relationship building that takes place around a kitchen table.  The post was written because I made an exciting purchase at a flea market.

Since then I’ve added four chairs to my purchase.  Chairs that are distinctly different in character that will all be painted the same, the cushions covered with the same fabric so that when they are placed around the table they will all belong.  People will then have a place to gather around my table for food and fellowship.  But that’s not the subject of this post.

This weekend I’ve spent most of my time and energy sanding the old paint off the table and chairs and I’ve begun repainting the table and two of the chairs an inviting “Mint Shake” color.   My kitchen ensemble is taking shape!

It’s hard work.  Sanding off old paint and in some cases varnish that’s been there for years doesn’t come off easily.  I really had to work at it.  Sometimes I needed to use  abrasive sandpaper because the varnish was thick or the dents ran deeper than I thought.  Other times, fine sandpaper and a lot of elbow grease took off the old, chipped paint.  But regardless, I worked up a sweat.  I got tired.  And honestly, it wasn’t much fun.

It was more fun putting the fresh paint on. Seeing the old furniture come to life – looking just the way I imagined it would look made all the hard sanding and prep work worth it.  The finished product looks completely different than the old, tired furniture did.  It’s fresh and new.  My table and chairs have come  back to life.

Working away in the hot garage this weekend, I saw the irony of my work.  It dawned on me that my work this weekend is what God’s been doing in my life these last six months.  He’s been sanding away at the worn out, chipped and ugly places in my life that need new life.  At times it has felt a bit abrasive.  It hasn’t been fun.  But, I see now that God had to get rid of a bunch of old stuff that I was hanging on to.  He needed to smooth away some pretty deep dents.  I had some damage that needed sanding away.  Like my table and chairs, I look different than when God first started too.  I've come back to life.