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Watching for Wow...every day.

5/30/2017

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“When all is said and done, spring is the main reason for “Wow.”  Spring is crazy, being all hope and beauty and glory. She is the resurrection. Spring is Gerard Manley Hopkins, ‘The world is charged with the grandeur of God. It will flame out, like shining from shook foil.’”  Anne Lamott, from her book, Help, Thanks, Wow:  The Three Essential Prayers.
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...like shining from shook foil.
It would be hard to miss the “Wow!” of spring here on Hickory Lane.  Even if I was blind, I could hear it singing around me from the throats of fully joyful song sparrows and loud-whistling orioles.  If I was deaf, I could smell spring wafting around me - the spicy fragrance of a newly opened iris, the heavy sweetness of lily of the valley, the mouthwatering announcement that I’ve trampled on a stem of spearmint tea, …everything exudes “Wow.”​
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This spring, I’ve been thinking about “new” and wondering how we decide what’s new. I once read a book called, “Old Songs in a New Café,” a memoir type book of essays from the life of author Robert James Waller.  (I just pulled it from the shelf…maybe I’ll reread that one.) The title has resurfaced in my brain a few times, and I’ve wondered why he chose it. (Why not New Songs in an Old Café? I think the word picture works equally well in both directions.)

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Spring is like this too - old songs – same old song sparrow song, same old noisy robin racket at dusk- in the new café that is Spring 2017.  Or, I could say that spring is new songs-new migratory birds arriving (Hooray for oriole, killdeer, brown thrasher, eastern kingbird, catbird- all new birds on my May list) in the old café that is spring which comes around every year, regular as rain…as faithful as a 15-year-old migrating through the kitchen after soccer practice. And all the loveliness of "new" brings me great joy.

​But spring is also rose thorns piercing through my gloves and lodging in my fingers. Spring is aching muscles and a sore back. Spring is late frosts and mud, mud, mud. Spring is deer ticks and poison ivy.  

And there’s more, because, in the middle of all the Wow and not-so-wow of spring, I’m also living my life, which, it turns out, can distribute hard days in any season.  So, I need reminders- to watch for the Wow, whatever else may be happening.

​Maybe you need those reminders too....Here's what I've noticed recently as 
I’ve been watching for the Wow, for the new that springs up around me in the old café that is my life.  
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New colored leaves on same old trees, 



​

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New boots (sweet!)  on tired old feet!



​

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New varied hue in a worn-out shoe, 


​

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Signs of someone new in my same old pasture view. 
(and, cow photobomb!)


​

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New splash of orange that I know I did not seed here,


​

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New pair of tweeters in a fixed-up old beater.


​

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Shiny new iris, from my dear old aunt, 


​

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New crop of buttercups, old fence, slant.

​

But with all the Wow of spring, life continues, and life can be hard.

​And some days
I forget to watch for the Wow. 



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I might be surrounded by birdsong, inhaling deep draughts of rose breeze,
but I don't even notice because I’m...
-thinking through a hard piece,
-trying to find my way back to truth when I’ve heard a lie. 
I might be...
-wondering how long a situation will continue,
-doubting my ability to endure…
and then God shows up with a reminder that I cannot ignore, as happened on a particularly difficult day last week.
  


​Yes, there were a thousand yellow rose petals scattered along the garden’s edge like fairy confetti, but I overlooked them... 

until I saw that one reminder, from the One, lying on my path.  I couldn’t ignore its beauty or its message for me. Wow.
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I remembered the verse with which I had started the day: 

Psalm 62: 8
Trust in (God) at all times, O people.  (O Brenda.)
Pour out your heart before Him.
God is a refuge for us.


I had started my morning standing on that truth, b
ut as the day passed, my thoughts wandered far from those words. A single rose petal drew me back to my Place of refuge, to the certainty of being remembered by the One who urged me to "pour out my heart."  

I’d like to say I camped there for the rest of the day, but no.
Life is complicated, and…God is faithful. 

Wow. 


Keep watching for the Wow!
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The Wow of wisteria!
HumminB
4 Comments

September 10-11 Soul Stretch - saying "yes." 

9/11/2016

2 Comments

 
Most mornings I use all or part of the Morning Office – Lauds – in my devotional time. If you would have told me a few years ago that I would find deep meaning in a memorized morning prayer I probably would have suggested that you meant another Brenda Zook because this one wasn't interested. But now, I feel restless without it.

These ancient phrases speak to me and sometimes it's a relief not to have to think up all the words on my own. It's not that this is my only prayer form, but this tradition has added a new dimension to the time I spend with God each day.


This weekend I was particularly mindful of what I was saying because I'm in the midst of a longer bout of single parenting which always stretches me. So, when  I prayed,“This very day the Lord has acted” (and realized I was sitting on the sunwarm porch longer than usual because someone else was sleeping in) the response, “May His name be praised!” came from my heart. 
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And the words, “I will know Your power and Presence this day (this day!) if I will but listen for Your voice,” reminded me that listening was going to be the tool by which I moved through the weekend with clear direction and hope.

The next section gave me reason to pause: “Deliver me Almighty God from the service of self alone that I may do the work you have given me to do in truth and beauty and for the common good....”

And a few lines later:
Grant me such an awareness of Your mercy that with a truly thankful heart I may give you praise not only with my lips but with my life by giving up myself for your service...


Uh-oh.



These phrases and the truth they contain turned out to be the framework upon which my weekend rested, and my soul has been stretched in the process...and once again, the work that God has done is good, even very good.


I won't go into detail...but I needed to invest heavily in a few situations that weren't ones I would have chosen had I not been listening very attentively for the Voice. Last night I fell asleep with intense concerns and anxieties swirling in my mind; at early light I woke with the whisper of an idea that wasn't my own, and discovered clarity and direction in the coming hours. It was a day for being delivered from the service of self alone and for being part of God's greater work in my world. 

And so I come to the end of this day with a sense of almost giddy joy - I  said "Yes" to God's quietly persistent Voice.  I did the work He had given me to do.

 In some way that I can barely articulate, for a few hours my ordinary life has been a gift of praise to the One who has given so much to me...(today, he gave me an unexpected window of time for a much needed walk...with this view as a bonus!)

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Days like this help me want to keep trusting,
to keep praying,
to keep listening,
and to keep saying the single word that stretches my soul more than any other:
yes.   
HumminB
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C.S. Lewis on snake bite prevention. Sort of. 

8/24/2016

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She approached me with a shy grin and asked, "So how's The Snake doing?"


I didn't realize she was following the blog, (or even had the internet,)  this young mom from a culture I've only begun to understand. "Well, I didn't really see The Snake yet, just the skin."

"I see one every year," she told me. "The little ones are okay...well, I don't like them, but the big ones. (shiver.) I saw one when I was picking the beans." She motioned with her hand to show me how it slithered away.



"At least it was going away from you," I observed.


"At least Bennie was home," she countered. "We killed it."

​Which I took to mean he killed it because she clearly was moving in a direction opposite  the snake!
​
.
Pictureeveryone has a snake story
I never know what conversations I'll get involved in at church, but this one made me smile.


It seems everyone has a snake story.



Yes, we do,because


every one of us has a snake.


In a recent email from C.S. Lewis Daily, I thought Lewis' comments on temptation were totally relevant to the previous blog post about The Snake. Here are a few excerpts from The Collected Letters of C. S. Lewis, Volume 111, compiled in Yours, Jack.   (You can check out the Bible Gateway site for yourself.) 



In this excerpt from a letter dated 13 October 1961, Lewis commented:

Of course I have had and still have plenty of temptations. Frequent and regular prayer, and frequent and regular Communions, are a great help, whether they feel at the time as if they were doing you good or whether they don’t. I also found great help in monthly confession to a wise old clergyman.

I like these suggestions on snake bite prevention, even if the faith tradition I'm part of doesn't give a lot of opportunity for "frequent and regular" Communions...unless you consider twice a year frequent.

As for confesssion to a wise older clergyman...I have to tweak this one a bit since I'm married to a clergyman who might be considered wise and/or old in certain circles. (And right here he would be commenting that he is younger than I am...by 7 months.)  

However, I have a friend who fills this spot nicely in my life, although if she reads this and realizes I'm referring to her, she is probably at this very moment snorting coffee through her nose, which is only one of the myriad things I love about her. She is not a clergyperson per say, but she is wise and she is  old(er than me) and she listens better than anyone else I know, which is to say she doesn't judge me, but she doesn't let me off the hook either; so when I need someone to check up on me, she does it.

I am sometimes this person for her as well, although I am also not a clergyperson, and while some days I'm not sure how wise I am, I do fill the "old" category nicely, (just not older than her.)


Lewis continues: 
Perhaps, however, the most important thing is to keep on: not to be discouraged however often one yields to the temptation, but always to pick yourself up again and ask forgiveness. In reviewing your sins don’t either exaggerate them or minimise them. Call them by their ordinary names and try to see them as you would see the same faults in somebody else—no special blackening or whitewashing.
Picturecall a savory a savory...
I find these simple instructions much harder than they initially appear.

I tend to fall off the line of truth to one side or the other regularly,

alternately condemning myself in the strongest terms or

explaining away the seriousness of my sin with a thin veneer of excuse or rationalization.
​

How much better to just call a savory a savory... or perhaps in the case of sin, unsavory. 

Picturedon't wait till the last moment before you put on the brakes...
I loved this final word picture which Lewis chose to explain how to avoid yielding to sin:

Of course there are other helps which are more commonsense. We must learn by experience to avoid ...trains of thought or social situations which for us (not necessarily for everyone) lead to temptations.

Like motoring--
don’t wait till the last moment before you put on the brakes but put them on, gently and quietly, while the danger is still a good way off.

I read recently that the average freight train moving at 55 miles an hour can take a mile or more to stop after the engineer fully applies the brakes.

This is why I am being more mindful of what is going on in my head when I'm moving through my day. ​ If I don't want a train wreck in my life's journey,  I need to reflect on my choices enroute.

I've come to realize that my brain can be moving a hundred miles an hour (in the wrong direction?!) while my body is practically immobile...say, weeding the garden or working in the kitchen, and I am the only one who can put on the brakes.
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If I don't want a train wreck in my life's journey, I need to reflect on my choices enroute.
Prayer helps. And I don't mean just the "oh help" type prayer, although I do regularly use that strategy.

Praying for someone else has become a helpful tool for me in redirecting my thoughts. I keep a short mental list of people who are in particular need of prayer in any given day/week. (I think of them as my "stat" prayer list.)
-a friend dealing with an adult child in active addiction;
a young family relocating across the world on Kingdom business;
a sweet young friend hitting the bumps of adolescence,
my friend taking yet another broken child to trauma therapy
the widow stirring a fresh batch of grief filled tear soup...

The list goes on, and I might pray aloud if no one else is in house. As the moments pass, I am putting on the brakes
gently and quietly, while the danger is still a good way off.

Sometimes listening to (or humming!) songs that speak life and truth can direct my thoughts along healthy paths. I almost always have a hum in my head, and it's embarrassing to discover myself droning away on a phrase from a mindless commercial or (oh good grief) my phone ring tone. Worse, there are snippets of songs lodged in my brain from the days when I was less careful about what I downloaded into my mind, and they surface and loop around as though they contained truth for my life. I can't find the delete button, so I must choose to actively play over them.
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I'm wondering how you deal with the dangers of The Snake in your garden.

How do you apply the brakes in your head when you're on a long downhill stretch?


Do you have a strategy you'd be willing to share with the rest of us? 

I'd love to hear your tips for avoiding The Snake.  


​Hmmm...​I hope my wise old clergyperson is available for lunch this week. If she is still speaking to me...

HumminB
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My world breathes morning prayers

4/5/2016

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My world breathes morning prayers,
Wordless longings sigh and rise.
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Night mist etches every mountain ridge.
​Wood smoke ascends straight up from kitchen chimneys.
 
Car exhaust clouds cold air with genie residue;
Coffee vapor floats like a promise toward sleep fogged eyes
waiting with children waiting for buses-
Talking faces swirl with word haze.


Horse breath seems to lead the team.
Manure pile steams; nothing is wasted here.
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​

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​Every wisp a tendril rising heavenward,

My world breathes morning prayers. 
HumminB
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Listening prayer, holy yogurt.  

12/12/2015

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Today I’m grateful for friends with whom to pray,
friends for whom to pray,
and a God who welcomes every prayer and every pray-er.
​
So often when I come to prayer, I do a lot of talking -
bringing my praise
and my gratitudes
and my requests to God.   
I can talk, talk, talk His ear off with my many words, and he’s good about listening, just another bit that I love about Him.  (I thought about saying "for which I am eternally grateful…")


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Recently, though, I’ve been learning the value of praying with less talking,
more
listening. 


I’m learning to heed a quiet Voice,
to pay attention those thoughts that float into my mind, like wild geese appearing through the mist from
​

...somewhere beyond where I am.

Here is a story from my very ordinary life about listening prayer.  


I regularly meet with a group of friends to pray “for the children,” and one morning we were focusing on my faraway friend and her houseful of children –

Grieving children.   Lost children.   Motherless children.  Violated children.  Sick children.   God’s children. 

​My heart was stirred as I heard my friend across the table praying for my friend across the globe with intensity and deep compassion.   I listened as she interceded for the health of one particularly sick small human, ravaged in body and soul in ways too vile to describe.  “We are awash in bodily fluids,” my weary faraway friend had confided a few hours earlier.    As my nearby friend prayed, I heard their two voices overlapping.  It was a kind of communion of souls.
Into those quiet moments, I heard the whisper of another Voice,
and I almost missed the message,
​one simple word. 


“Yogurt.” 

Not an audible voice, but unmistakably clear. 

“Yogurt.”

I paused mid-thought. “Oh Lord God, Father Almighty, Maker of heaven and earth, of all things visible and invisible…did you say, 'Yogurt?'”
 
I jotted the word in my undersized notebook beside the day’s prayer list.  


I’ve been learning, oh so slowly, to listen for those promptings, to send a card here, to carry a meal there, to connect this person with that one, to initiate a conversation.  But – yogurt? 

My heart smiled.  
Prayers ended and I hurried home to reply to the “such sick children” message…

”Yogurt…do you have access to yogurt?” 

In minutes, from a place so remote even a doctor won’t visit, her reply flew across the miles, “Thank you Jesus.”  
In my heart, I echoed her deep gratitude- thank you, Jesus,
 

…that the least of these are indeed Your dearly loved little ones, and they matter to You.
…that You are in the details, always.
…that You whispered “yogurt” into a quiet place in my heart
…that for this once I was listening!!
​
I think our culture tosses the word “holy” around much too carelessly these days –

​holy cow, holy Batman, holy crap…

Mindless misuse has stripped the word “holy” of its sacredness, leaving it tarnished, smudged, and caked with so much muck it’s barely recognizable.

But this yogurt?  Oh yes indeed, thank you Jesus. 
Holy yogurt.
​   
 
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Post Script - While I was preparing this story, I thought it would be more credible if I contacted my friend about the yogurt - was it working, could she even find it, etc.  I felt a bit anxious about her possible responses – what if yogurt was just not available there?  What if her kiddos were just too sick, and it wasn’t helpful.  What then?  Would that mean I had heard wrong?  Here is an excerpt from her reply:

​I got yogurt for raw tummies and it helped a lot. I also found it helped thrush so nicely. (I was) very surprised to see the healing properties of yogurt. I now buy a large tub for all the hiv/arv children weekly. I get the plain one as it seems to work better.


And so I repeat, thank you Jesus.
Holy yogurt.                                                                                                                                         HumminB
  


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    Author

    I'm finding my way beyond the maze of the "middle" years
    (if I'm gonna be 100 and something someday...) 
    ​living life as a country woman who is a
     writer, gardener, wife, mom,  nature observer,  teacher,and most of all a much loved child of God.  

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