The Redheaded Cheerleader

As these dog days of summer are winding down, my garden seems to be doing the same. Overnight, things have started to turn various shades of brown. The ferns are calling it a day. The hanging pots, when at their peak were vibrant shades of purple and pink, are now fading into mere shadows of their old selves. There is another thing that happens this time of year at our house that reflects the funny side of Mother Nature. We have a lot of very big oak trees, and this time of year, they decide it would be fun to drop acorns on us unsuspecting patio dwellers. I was sitting on the patio the other day, reading and just taking in the beauty of one of our last summer days, when I was pelted by acorns. They hit the gutters and ricocheted into my lap. They would land on the brick patio so hard their little “caps” would fly off.  At night we can hear them thudding off the roof. It sounds like a warzone. Late summer, early fall, is a bitter sweet time of year. Each passing day brings more beauty and wonder as the trees instinctively perform their annual wardrobe change. All this beauty isn’t always fully appreciated because we all know what comes next. The harsh reality of winter becomes harder and harder to ignore. Nature never ceases to amaze me, no matter what the season. It’s God’s creative design, a gift for our viewing pleasure, a token of His love and His creativity. Take for instance, the redheaded cheerleader I spied amongst the ferns in my garden. (See picture above.) You can’t get more creative than that. Yay God! Joan Come see the redheaded cheerleader for yourself! Join us on October 4 for Firstfruits’ morning of Forest Therapy at my house. For details, click here. For registration, click here....

Women

Fifteen years ago, God put on my heart, an undeniable desire to gather women to support and encourage each other. He guided me through the process of creating a space for women to come together to share in each other’s happy times and not so happy times, a place where women can just be how God wired them to be. Sometimes we are quiet, sometimes we blab. Sometimes we have it together and sometimes we can’t even finish a thought. Sometimes we are incredibly brave and sometimes we shake with fear. Sometimes we give hugs and sometimes we need hugs. Firstfruits became a touchstone of God’s deep and abiding love for women. A haven for our female souls. A place where women take care of each other. And boy, do we need taking care of by other women. I came face to face with that truth last week. My daughter suffered a miscarriage last week, and I do mean suffered. As women, we’ve known, or can keenly imagine, the physical and emotional pain of that kind of loss. It’s in that suffering, and its lingering effects, that we see just how powerful and comforting it is to have God’s love mirrored in the eyes, the touch, and the caring attention to detail of other women. There was a nurse that attended to my daughter in the ER that we think may have been an angel. She just appeared right when she was needed most and took care of so many small details that made my daughter feel so much better. We never saw her again. But in that short visit, she mirrored God’s love and assured us of His presence through her feminine touch. Women caring for and about other women. Nothing better. In a couple weeks, we will be starting our fifteenth year of Firstfruits. Do you need the support of other women? Do you long for a place to just be who you are? Do you need a haven for your soul? We all do, that’s how God wired us. Please come join us at Firstfruits on the evening of Wednesday, September 24th as we kick-off our new season. If you’ve thought about coming to Firstfruits but just haven’t yet, now is the time. Who knows, there just might be an angel waiting for you. Joan To register for the Firstfruits kick-off on September 24 click here....

Sing a Song of Sixpence

Outside our screened-in-porch are two birdfeeders and a birdbath. I love to sit out there in the early morning and watch the birds have their breakfast and splash around. It’s sweet to see how patient the birds are as they wait their turn for the feeder in a near-by serviceberry bush. Sometimes there are baby birds, on what is probably one of their maiden voyages out of the nest, perched in the bush waiting as the adult visits the feeder and then brings the seed to them and puts it in their wide-open mouths. Most of the time, this local bird spa is a place of quiet enjoyment for me, but not so last week. This haven turned into something out of an Alfred Hitchcock movie. As I was enjoying my morning ritual, out of nowhere, a flock of at least a dozen large blackbirds descended on my peaceful space and turned everything upside down. The smaller birds tried to share the feeders but were soon booted out. The sound of soft chirping morphed into loud flapping wings and shouting. At any given time, there was a ring of six or so blackbirds on the bird bath. None of them took a dip. I imagined them laughing to each other and saying things like “Look at this pathetic bath. Where is my infinity pool?” They just seem very arrogant. They came on the scene and took over with a sense of entitlement. All at once, something would spook them and the whole flock would take flight to near-by trees, but then minutes later, swoop back down and do it all over again.   I wondered how long this was going to go on. I had never seen anything like it. I texted my next-door neighbor who is a bird enthusiast and she said this happens occasionally and to just repeatedly make a loud noise and they will not come back. Otherwise, they will stay until they’ve eaten everything. I had taken some pictures as all of this was going on and I had to smile when I saw the picture posted above. If you look hard enough you can see the ring of blackbirds on the birdbath but to the left is one lone bird that looks to me like the classic depiction of the Holy Spirit, a dove amid the darkness. In the midst of all this chaos was a sign of hope, beauty, and...

The Writing on the Wall

With age comes all kinds of changes. Body parts trade places. Skin just gives up. Things just aren’t as clear and in focus as they used to be. I find myself wondering, “Did I dream that or did it really happen?” One thing, however, that has become clearer and has come into focus, is the writing on the wall. The reality that after all this time, some people and some situations aren’t going to change. We can pray that they do, but in the meantime, we can’t let them come between us and the full life God wants for us. I wish I had seen the writing on the wall a lot sooner than I did. I lived most of my life feeling very sure that anybody and anything can evolve and change over time. Often, I felt I could be the one to facilitate that change. Mainly because then the change would be to my benefit. It took me a long time to realize that’s not how it works. I am not in control. My job is not to facilitate change, I need to leave that up to God. My job is to learn to forgive and accept the reality of people and situations. Then through that lens of forgiveness and acceptance, make a decision how to take care of myself and live the life God intends for me to live. The only way to move forward is to find the courage and the strength to forgive, accept, and move on. God calls us to different ways of “moving on.” Sometimes, it literally means leaving the situation or relationship. Other times it might mean moving on emotionally and spiritually, not physically. Staying put in the job, in the marriage, in the relationship, but leaning on the promise of God’s presence and care. A deep and complete surrendering. Either way, it takes a lot of courage, strength, and perseverance. More than we can muster on our own. The writing on the wall that comes into focus as we age can be startling and discouraging, but alongside it comes a love letter written on that same wall from God, promising to be there to see us through our own evolution and change as we come to grips with the reality of life. Now if He could just do something about my neck! Joan...

The Passage of Time

Life has become very surreal lately. I have come face to face with the harsh reality of how time truly does fly. On the day you receive this blog, I will be celebrating my sixty-ninth birthday. That, in itself, is surreal, but the real moment of truth came on the day I took the picture above. My grandkids call me NumNum (which is a topic for another blog) and seven years ago I started a summer tradition called Camp NumNum. I would organize a day of outdoor fun and games. It actually ended up being three separate days. I divided the clan up by age. This year I decided the two oldest grandkids, Emily (15) and James (13), were ready to graduate from Camp NumNum. Much to their dismay. To commemorate their graduation, we went on a field trip. I took them on a tour of my childhood in the suburbs of Chicago. I told them we were going on the Origins of NumNum Tour. I had matching tee shirts made for them with a Camp NumNum logo my grandson James had designed. Off we went to my old grade school, the local Leaning Tower of Pisa replica in front of the YMCA where I took swimming lessons, and the forest preserves behind my house where I used to play all day and never worried about Mr. Stranger Danger. We had a traditional Chicago hot dog at the famous Superdog and stopped in at a favorite diner whose name I knew would cause a chuckle with these young teenagers.   But the real moment of truth came when I took a picture of Emily and James in front of the house that I grew up in. When I look at that snapshot, I see my teenage grandchildren, but behind them I see a boy at the front door picking me up for a date, my dad cutting the grass in his wingtips. He never wore gym shoes. My mom watching us go off to school from the upstairs window and my mom and dad, side by side, waving good bye at the front door when I would leave to head back to Milwaukee after a visit home. I haven’t lived in Chicago for over 45 years and the original red brick house has had a couple face lifts, so it’s a real mixed bag of emotions when I visit the old homestead. There is a deep-seated fondness...

Time Off

In early July I told you I was taking a month off. I had visions of relaxing on my screened-in porch for hours every day. I would commit to living in the moment, free from stress and worry. I would evict the chattering monkeys that take up residence in my brain. A month later I am back to say unfortunately, that wasn’t what happened. What did happen is that I learned a lot about myself during my July sabbatical. I learned that I can turn off some of my thoughts and concerns, but by no means all of them. I can carve out brief moments of relaxation but I can’t truly relax. That truth added another dimension to my vision of heaven. I think that only in heaven can we finally relax, really relax, forever. In order to truly relax my mind in this world, I find I have to just not think about much of what is going on. I can’t think about the starving babies in Gaza or the escalating need for food in our local food pantries.  I have to quickly shift my focus when thoughts enter my mind about health challenges in my family or friends. Denial seems to be the best path to relaxation. But that’s not right. In heaven, I think you finally relax, even though all the stressful stuff is still going on in the world. People you love are still hurting and struggling. The world is hurting and struggling, but you finally are able to see the big picture. There is a knowledge of the true meaning of things that is difficult to achieve this side of heaven. In heaven there are no worries, no fretting, no efforts at changing people or situations. No judgments, resentments, or hurts to occupy our minds. There is only total acceptance, contentment, and bliss. A true relaxing into the power and the love of God. Why can’t we do that here and now? Imagine your average day if you could keep your mind in a state of total acceptance and contentment.  What if you could completely relax into the power and the love of God? That is key to the true relaxation that eludes us. Taking a month off was a smart thing to do to recharge my Firstfruit’s battery for our fifteenth season that begins soon. That much I have learned. What I still haven’t learned is how to take time off from...

Time Off

Well, we are almost half way through summer already. I know that because I have had a couple brats off the grill, my feet have successfully made the adjustment from boots to sandals, and my flowers have let me know whether or not they like the location I planted them in. Another indication that we are well into summer lies in my spiritual life. It has gone to pieces. I can’t really pinpoint the reason why but I suspect it has something to do with the summer vibe. From the time we were little, summer signaled the end of school. It was the time of year to just relax, slack off a bit, step out of the rigorous routines, and become more carefree. A time to do what you want to do. A time of less discipline and more freedom. I think that’s why my spiritual life takes a nosedive this time of year. Maintaining that intimate relationship with God requires discipline. Sometimes, it means postponing what you really want to do and doing what will truly nurture your friendship with God. Things like sitting in silence before you start your day, attending a daily mass once in a while, or reading an inspirational book. Right now, I feel a distance from God and I don’t like it. When that happens, I can tend to feel anxious more often. I struggle more to make decisions. I have less self-control in my words. I try to control things and people more. I’m just not who I like to be. So, once again, as I have done the last couple years, I am taking the month of July off. I am setting my Firstfruits work aside, which includes writing these blogs, in order to focus on me and God. I encourage you to join me. Set aside whatever gets in the way of your friendship with God for the month of July. Whatever you have made as a heavy obligation that just might not be. A pressure you have put on yourself that steals your time, your brain space, and your peace. Spend this month just having fun with God! See you in August, Joan...

Are You Curious?

I wrote about my mom a week after Mother’s Day so I guess it’s ok that I’m writing about the Holy Spirit a week after Pentecost. I write these blogs when the Spirit moves me and apparently, he/she was busy celebrating Pentecost and didn’t get around to me until now. Pentecost is a celebration of the coming of the promised Holy Spirit to the disciples in the upper room after Jesus had risen from the dead and ascended into heaven. With the Holy Spirit came all that the apostles needed to fulfill their mission to bring Christ to the world. The same is true for us now. We are all called to bring Christ’s love and mercy to our “worlds.” And we have been given all that we need to answer that call, in the Holy Spirit. The Holy Spirit is alive and well in each of us, waiting to be stirred into action. The first step in this process of stirring up the Holy Spirit is so simple, yet so difficult. Just be curious. Let yourself believe that maybe this is true. Maybe there is a God-given source of power within you that is all you need to live a more abundant life. A life of purpose, a life lived outside of yourself, self-less and in service to others. A life of ease and simplicity, gratitude, freedom, and joy. Wonder about this and see what happens. If we open ourselves up to the possibility of a life in tandem with the Holy Spirit, we will be given glimpses of what this life looks like. These glimpses come in subtle yet noticeable ways. You might find yourself with an unexplained patience for someone who is usually very difficult to be around.  You find just the right words in a difficult conversation. Your thoughts focus on what you have rather than what is missing in our life. Your restlessness is gone. Your anxiety doesn’t last as long. You get a good night’s sleep. You make a decision that you have been wavering on for a long time. You notice how green the grass is. The list goes on and on. These glimpses make us want more and give us the courage to open up even more. But that’s a topic for another blog. For now, I challenge you to just let yourself be curious about the Holy Spirit. Let me know what happens. Joan...

Stumbling Blocks

I was listening to a podcast with Fr. Richard Rohr last week and realized I am in good company. He was talking about stumbling blocks in our lives and mentioned one of his stumbling blocks is how he approaches life with a very analytical frame of mind. He sees everything and everybody as flawed and seems to think he knows how everything and everybody could be better. And feels a responsibility to fix these things. That’s me. I never really thought about it that way but it’s true. He gives an example of a beautiful tree he saw that had one dead branch mixed in amongst the others and all he could see was that dead branch. He recognized the beauty but it was lessened by the imperfection. His thoughts were more about “How could he fix that?” “Doesn’t anybody else see this?” than “What a gift in the beauty of this tree!” I’ve been trying to remember just when I adopted this analytical bent and why? They say these kinds of characteristics become our default as a result of childhood influences and defense mechanisms we adopted to survive in life. I haven’t quite figured it out yet. Maybe I should just stop analyzing it and work on changing it. Rohr said he forced himself to just leave the tree as is and to focus on seeing past the imperfections to the beauty. Imagine if we could do that with the people in our lives, the people in the news, the church, the world. How arrogant of me to think I know what is better for everyone and everything. But, isn’t wanting better for someone or some situation showing I care, showing I love? Or is it a selfish way to make my life better, by making you or it better? It takes discipline, sternness, and work to maintain life like this, a life of order. As a result, life loses some of its joy. Rohr says, “Stumbling blocks trip us into the second half of life where the pursuit of order gives in to acceptance and freedom.” Sounds lovely. To be able to accept things and people as they are. To believe that where we are at each moment in our lives is exactly where God wants us to be and every encounter with another is leading us on a path that isn’t random. Imagine the freedom in a life like that. What is a stumbling block in your approach...

My Mom and My God

I’m feeling a bit guilty. We just celebrated Mother’s Day last week. I was so busy making sure my daughters, daughter-in-law, and the other mothers I know were properly acknowledged that I never thought about my own mother.  My mom has been gone for seventeen years and it’s so interesting how the person who was once the source and summit of your existence, could one day be forgotten. Then I realized, she could never really be forgotten. Maybe I don’t consciously recall her often, but my actions, my values, my way of navigating life, my sense of humor, and my nose bring her back to life every day. I think that same thing goes for our spiritual lives. I feel guilty sometimes that I don’t consciously recall or acknowledge God in my daily life. I don’t pause throughout the day to just breathe deeply the presence of God. I don’t let the knowledge of His presence and care and love change the way I face challenges, the way I love others, the way I navigate life. The true source and summit of my existence goes unappreciated and unrecognized too often. Then again, we shouldn’t be too hard on ourselves for the times when the world gets in the way of us recognizing and acknowledging God’s presence. It’s just a part of being human and living in this distracting world. Our job is to let our actions, our values, and the way we navigate life acknowledge God’s presence. We may not verbalize it, but actions should speak louder than words, right? Just as I feel and know my mom is a part of my very being, tucked away in every corner and every smile, deep down, I feel and know that God is too. I hope my actions tell the world that. But sometimes, I just want to say it out loud. I love you mom. I love you God. Joan...