Going home, part 2

This past weekend I went home for the second time in two weeks.  The first time was to visit my parents in the town where I grew up.  This time I went to the town where I spent my last year of college and another six years, prior to entering seminary.  I wasn't originally going to be a minister, you know.  From the time I was very young I wanted to work in a hospital laboratory, just like my aunt did before me.  In college, I majored in Medical Technology and trained at a wonderful hospital.  And when I graduated, I went to work as a blood bank technologist, just like I always dreamed I would.

There I met a wonderful woman who graduated the year before me, and when she was ready to get an apartment close to the hospital, she invited me to share it with her.  And for six years we shared our living space and our lives.  Eventually, she met a nice man, and after I left for seminary, they got engaged and then married.  But in the years before that, it was Rachel and Bill and me, usually traveling in three separate cars wherever we went.  

They were the first to encourage me when I answered my call to ministry, first as a lay missioner, then as a ministerial candidate.  They helped me load up a U Haul and drove me to Durham to start school at Duke Divinity School   A year later I went home to be in their wedding.  After that my trips were usually overnight visits on my way to and from my parents' when they lived in Alabama.  

A few years ago Bill retired from Clemson University and Rachel continued to work at the same hospital where we trained.  Their lives had the same rhythm that they had had for 25 years.  My life was totally different.  Since leaving there in 1987, I have lived in 11 different towns, 10 states and one foreign country.  My world view expanded by the variety and quantity of the people I met and the different places I visited.  They were a family who lived in the same house where Bill grew up as a child.  Me, I don't even know where I'll be in another year or two, or what we'll be doing when Shawn retires.

Bill died last week of complications from diabetes.  He had not been well since this April, but I didn't know because we hadn't talked in a while.  But Friday, when I was sitting at my computer thinking about dinner, I received an email from Rachel informing me of his death.  And in that moment, I knew I had to go.  And I'm so glad I did.

I saw a lot of people from my past this weekend.  Previous colleagues from the hospital and church members greeted me as a long lost friend or relative.  Over 200 people crowded the small, country church where his funeral was held.  It was a testimony to the love and respect that people had for him.  And I was really humbled when the minister invited me to officiate at the committal service, where for the first time in a long time, I was able to look into the faces of those who first recognized my call and sent me into the world to preach and teach in the name of Jesus.

And so to all of them, and to God, I say "Thank You."  I live this amazing life - not one that I ever imagined for myself - and I'm able to do it where I do, in the way I do, in large part because of them.  It's hard to fathom that 28 years ago, my roommate's boyfriend invited me to church and I went.  And it started a cascade of events that tumbled onward to this very day.

Lesson Learned:  Never underestimate the power that you have to affect other people... to bring about change in people's lives... to encourage them... to help them take a road less traveled.  Be a blessing, indeed!

"Therefore, if there is any encouragement in Christ, any comfort in love, any sharing in the Spirit, any sympathy, complete my joy by thinking the same way, having the same love, being united, and agreeing with each other.  Don't do anything with selfish purposes but with humility think of others as better than yourselves.  Instead of each person watching out for their own good, watch out for what is better for others." (Philippians 2:1-4 in the Common English Bible)

Reflections on tragedy and recovery

No surprise to anyone that we just passed the 10th anniversary of the terror attacks of September 11, 2001.  Our country has been building up to this memorial observance, and not surprisingly, controversy has surrounded celebrations.  And yet, as I watched on television and attended local worship services and remembrances, I am struck by the level of spiritual depth that surrounded the days' proceedings.

I love that ceremonies at the three crash sites public officials and ordinary people shared scripture, songs, prayers and personal reflections, most of which were deeply rooted in the spiritual language and meaning.  I was touched and moved by the silences, which allowed those watching to remember the day in their own ways.  I love that in interviews with architects and builders and project managers they talked about an  investment in helping the country heal and recover from the tragedies, but never at the expense of sweeping the horrible facts under the rug.

I love that when I went to an interfaith service in my DC suburb, we prayed in English, Hebrew and Arabic.  We listened to reading from the Old and New Testaments, the Talmud and the Koran. We heard testimonies from those who survived the Pentagon attack and wonderful poems written espeically for the occasion.  We prayed in unison and read responsively.  And in the end we sang together, "God Bless America"... all of us - Christian, Muslim and Jew.  It was just right.

I want so badly to be able to say something profound... to be able to quote scripture or a famous author that would make all that has happened in the world make sense.  But all I can think of is having the feeling deep in my soul that I was not meant to understand it all at once - the pain, the suffering, or even the solutions to the problems we share.  Gradually the question, "Why did this happen?" is replaced with "How do I respond?"  And in the meantime I have come to believe that I can only live life one day at a time, and be ready to be an instrument of God's love and grace in all things.  Believe me, it's a work in progress.

Peace, Deb

2 Peter 3: 8-13 "Don’t let it escape your notice, dear friends, that with the Lord a single day is like a thousand years and a thousand years are like a single day.  The Lord isn’t slow to keep his promise, as some think of slowness, but he is patient toward you, not wanting anyone to perish but all to change their hearts and lives.  But the day of the Lord will come like a thief. On that day the heavens will pass away with a dreadful noise, the elements will be consumed by fire, and the earth and all the works done on it will be exposed.  

         Since everything will be destroyed in this way, what sort of people ought you to be? You must live holy and godly lives, waiting for and hastening the coming day of God. Because of that day, the heavens will be destroyed by fire and the elements will melt away in the flames.  But according to his promise we are waiting for a new heaven and a new earth, where righteousness is at home."

You can go home... it's just different

This weekend we drove from DC to the upstate of SC to see my parents.  It had been over 18 months since Shawn had seen them, and we came to find they are fully entrenched in their new life.  Most of their time is engaged in their backyard garden.  They have turned all of their flowerbeds into vegetable plots.  This year they are excelling at tomatoes, peppers, cucumbers, okra, and eggplant... lots of eggplant.  Evidence of their green thumbs comes to full realization when you check out their 17 cubic foot freezer, packed to the very top with the literal fruit of their hard work.  It's good to know that if we run into a disaster of some kind, they and their friends will not go hungry.

In addition to the tomatoes, peppers and eggplant, they sent us home with the rest of their rhubarb, frozen collard greens, tomato sauce, and corn.  And they took us to their favorite orchard to buy some wonderful Spartanburg County peaches, freestone and so sweet that they didn't even need sugar.  Today I spent a lot of the day "putting up" the bounty.  After an afternoon's work, we have 12 quarts of peaches, 6 pints of rhubarb, 4 meals of eggplant (only for me, you know) and fresh corn off the cob in OUR freezer.

It reminded me of the work that we did each summer when I was a kid, harvesting the bounty from our garden and the one my grandmother kept.  We jarred a lot of pickles, we cooked a lot of okra and tomatoes... you never knew what would be the work of the day.  I didn't really care much for being "free labor" at the time, but it has served me well since then.  Whenever I have the freezer space I make special packages to get us through the winter, On year it was 20 pints of apple sauce and 8 premade pies.  Another year it was shucking, blanching and cutting off 150 ears of corn, boy were my hands sore.

For all intents and purposes, I left home after I graduated from high school and never spent longer than a summer vacation living with my parents again.  Not only did I move away, but they did, too.  In fact they have moved four times since I left home.  So when I went to visit before, it wasn't really "going home."  And when I went back to my hometown, it didn't feel like home because my parents weren't there.  Now, 34 years later, my hometown finally feels like home again.  I doubt that I will ever live there again, but then again, I can only imagine what God has in store for us.

Here are somethings I realized on my recent journey into the past.  I thought you might have felt some of the same things.

• I love that there are people who have the same shaped feet as me.
• I love it that when my mom wants to tell a funny story, she cracks herself up before she can even get a word out of her mouth.
• And I love that it only takes a few words for me or my dad or brother or sister to figure out what story she's trying to tell so that we can pick up with what she was trying to say.
• I love that my dad still goes to the car 15 minutes before he told us he wanted to leave.
• And how that accounts for me always being early wherever I go.
• I love that my brother lives close by and checks on them everyday, at least by phone.
• I love that my dad loves dogs, but has finally realized he can love other people's dogs without bringing one home.
• I love that they have a wonderful church family with many friends from 35 years ago and new ones, too.  
• I love that my dad goes to Sunday school each week and even reads his lesson in advance.
• I love that my mom is still substituting as a church organist all over town.
• I love that some things never change, like Wade's Restaurant and the Beacon Drive-In, but that new things are good, too, like the little crepe restaurant, Mon Amie, where we had a great brunch on Sunday morning.
• I love that my parents are in great health at 77 and 84, and that they both worked until just three years ago doing jobs they loved.
• I love that they have been married 53 years, and that most of them have been happy.
• I love that they love Shawn and he loves them, too.
• I love that I want to be just like them when I grown up.

I'm not saying that I am the perfect child or that they were the perfect parents, but I am grateful for all the gifts that they have given me, including life and love and respect for all the gifts of my life.

Honoring mother and father is a long part of our religious culture, as passed on through the ten commandments in the Hebrew Bible and the writings of Paul in the New Testament.  I just ask for as many opportunities as possible to share this love with them in person.

Peace, Deb

Ephesians 6:1-3   Children, obey your parents in the Lord, for this is right. “Honor your father and mother”—which is the first commandment with a promise— “so that it may go well with you and that you may enjoy long life on the earth.”

This blog has been interrupted for ....

I was working on a different blog post yesterday when my world started shaking... no, literally shaking.  It seems that a 5.8 earthquake centered about 80 miles from my location in Northern Virginia had struck.  I was at the grocery store and I felt dizzy - like my legs were rubbery and the ground was moving side to side and up and down under my feet.  When stuff started falling off the shelves, I knew it wasn't me.  Then we all looked around and said, "wow, I think that was an earthquake."  And then people started cleaning up and gong about their business... no panic - no evacuation - just buying cabbage and carrots for slaw and Skinny Cow ice cream sandwiches, which were on sale.

I texted my spouse to let him know that I was OK and when I finished picking up a few things, I went home.  The house was still standing - nothing was broken - all was well with the world.  Then I turned on the TV.  All the local stations had interrupted programming, and a reoccurring theme began to emerge.  Many of the people interviewed compared their immediate reaction of the earthquake to the feeling they had on that September day in 2001.  The fears of that day 10 years ago reemerged for many.  And I was reminded of something important.

The things that happen to us matter.  Some things we may never forget - like where we were on 9/11.  For other times, the details are forgotten, but the general experience remains with us.  Today I looked at pictures of new student orientation at my colleges, and all of those feelings of fear and joy and excitement came rushing back, locked away long ago but ready to be unleashed by a sight or a sound or a smell.   Generations before us had the death of President Kennedy and Pearl Harbor/D-Day to remember.  For people born in the last 50 years, 9/11 will probably (hopefully) be the most defining national moment we experience.

These corporate moments are lasting for many reasons.  They are a common shared experience. They give us a starting place for conversation and relationship.  And they most likely change the way we think about the world and our place in it.  The events of September 11, 2001 also made us think about faith and religion in a new way.  For some, religion became a haven.  For others, it challenged their understanding of God and a world where these kind of things can happen.  For still others, their faith helped them to stay grounded and loved and to get through difficult and challenging times.

Yesterday's earthquake reminded me that those memories still live within us and have the power to invade whatever else is happening in our world and jar it just a little.  People here in the DC area were reminded of that day 10 years and the insecurities that are always with us in the nation's capital.  It's been 10 years - something in us want to think that someday it will not longer effect us with such impact, but I don't think that's the case.  I think these monumental communal events still effect us just as much as the personal events like weddings and births and deaths.  And as painful as those reminders are, they are also evidence that we are human and not in always in control of what happens around us.

What we can control is how we react.  For me, that reaction is anchored in my trust in a God who does not will trouble for us, but helps us to come through on the other side stronger than when we began.  Dean Sam Lloyd at the National Cathedral said it this way:  Jesus hung out with a motley crew.  They weren't pillars of the community - they sometimes made bad choices.  But Jesus lived out a kind of love that told them that no one could ever do anything to be outside the reach of God's love.  Jesus came to make our lives today possible - lives of love and peace and forgiveness.  And if we choose to follow him, he will give us the strength, energy and compassion to live our lives with all the fullness we can experience.

Paul wrote about this God-love in a letter to the church in Rome, where Christians were undergoing terrible persecution.  I remember these words everyday, in the midst of my remembrances of communal tragedies and personal struggles.  May they give you as much peace as they do me.

Romans 8: 35-39  "Who shall separate us from the love of Christ? Shall trouble or hardship or persecution or famine or nakedness or danger or sword?  As it is written:  “For your sake we face death all day long;  we are considered as sheep to be slaughtered.”  No, in all these things we are more than conquerors through him who loved us. For I am convinced that neither death nor life, neither angels nor demons, neither the present nor the future, nor any powers, neither height nor depth, nor anything else in all creation, will be able to separate us from the love of God that is in Christ Jesus our Lord."

Now excuse me while I go to stock my hurricane box.  Irene is on the way.

Peace, Deb

We may never know...

I've had a lot of feedback about last week's post.  It's very humbling to know that people are reading what I write and thinking seriously about it.  I am reminded of the scene in the movie "Julie and Julia" where Amy Adams' character is wondering if anyone is reading her blog.  On the day when someone finally posts a comment she realizes, "uh oh, I better be careful about what I say... people are paying attention."  That's how I feel today.

And it started me thinking about how we often live without remembering that people are paying attention.  We may never know how that one thing we say or do may have an effect on someone's life.  It could be in the way we relate to our children or spouse at the grocery store or WalMart.  It may be in the way we drive our cars.  In may be reflected how we live out friendship, or in how we relate to people we don't know.  It may be in the way that we react to the circumstances around us... new jobs, new friends, unemployment, kids going off to school, or kids coming back home to live.  There are as many situations as there are minutes in the day, and if we are mindful, we can reflect love in every single one of them.

"Oh, no," you're thinking.  "Now I have to be careful about what I say and do all the time."  Well, yes - that's the way it works.  But it does get easier if we think about living one day  (hour/minute) at a time.  It becomes a way of life... a habit... an essential part of ourselves.  Does that mean we don't think about it?  No, it is very easy to get pulled back into what I call an "unthoughtful" posture.  I like to think of this lifestyle as character development.  And just like in mastering a musical instrument or a sport, it takes practice.

For me it's more than "What Would Jesus Do?"  It's more about asking, "What am I called to do?"  Whether we consider ourselves religious or spiritual, I believe that each of us has a calling.  Some of that is about profession, but I have discovered over the years that it's more about being fully present and attentive and active in the lives we live.  This isn't about going to church, although for many that is important.  It's not about being overtly pious, either.  This calling is about making a life that is more about being centered... giving when we can and receiving when we are in need.  And believing that we are stronger when we are in relationships with others than we can be when we depend only on ourselves.

We may never know how much our care touches others or how our love brings out the best in those around us or how much we have to give until we try.  We may never know how much others need to give until we are willing to receive, how much our centeredness in God and with one another gives our lives grace and peace and meaning, or how that centeredness reaches into the lives of those we touch, even if it's just a minute or too.

We may never know how much we make a difference in each other's lives, but know we do and be mindful of making it a good difference.  It's as simple as sharing a smile, offering a hand, or going out of our way.  Be grateful for the good around you, even when things aren't going the way you planned.  Be sad at the sad things and look for joy around you.  This is the life to which we have all been called.

I am reminded of the prayer attributed to St Francis of Assisi in the 14th century.

Lord, make me an instrument of your peace.
Where there is hatred, let me sow love.  Where these is injury, pardon.
Where there is doubt, faith.  Where there is despair, hope.
Where there is darkness, light.  Where there is sadness, joy.
O Divine Master, grant that I may not so much seek to be consoled, as to console,
to be understood, as to understand,  to be loved, as to love.
For it is in giving that we receive,
It is in pardoning that we are pardoned,
and it is in dying that we are born to Eternal Life.  Amen.

May we all be instruments of God's peace.  Deb

Looking for a place to call home

I've been flying under the radar the last few weeks.  I've been a little busy - trying to get settled, learning my way around, going out have new adventures.  I've been in touch with a few friends from previous assignments, made and kept an appointment at the Army hospital, and had lunch with one of my neighbors.  But we're still working on making this "home."

Home is more than getting the boxes unpacked, more than hanging pictures, more than filling the freezer and cupboards with food.  Home is about making a life, both in the house and out in the world.  And that part is really hard.  We're still working on finding a church.  There are 15 United Methodist churches withing 10 miles of our house (more choices makes it harder, not easier, in case you were wondering) and so far we have visited 5 if them.  Two were off the list before we got back into the car... one is too far away and two others are on the short list.  We're visiting number 6 this Sunday - then we make a choice.

Of course, we are an unusual family when it comes to finding a congregational home... we know way too much and have opinions about everything else.  And then there's the all important question... are we choosing a church family based on what they can do for us or what we can do for them?  So far, we're trying to weigh the choices evenly, but when we come to the bottom line, we just want to worship in a place we can call home.

Isn't that what we all want... you and me?  Not just to have the boxes cleared away but to find a place of meaning, at home and in the world.  All of us want to be in a place where we can know that we make a difference... a place where we can be loved for who we are... a place to serve when we are at our best and be served when we are in a time of need.

Right now each of us is in "between times" - between the times of saying goodbye and saying hello.  We are remembering good and bad times in previous places, and looking into the mist of the future, praying the there is a puzzle where our piece will fit.  Some of us are sending our kids to school for the first time and wondering what we will do with our days.  Some of us are going back to work after some time away.  Some of us are even in the same place, but people we love are gone, so we will have to make a new normal right where we are.  No matter what our situations, we have the opportunity to make the best of whatever comes our way.

I know that this will become home for us.  As has happened so many times in the past, we will be blessed by the relationships that we develop with old and new friends, and we will work to both serve and be served.  God's past and present faithfulness are reminders that there are big plans in store for each of us as we live fully through whatever circumstances meet us along the way.  For some of us that means moving from place to place. For others it means staying put and welcoming new friends into your lives, even if they are not going to be around forever.  Paul reminds us that we can be equipped to handle and even thrive in all the circumstances of our lives.  Simply put, that's what it means to be "home."

Paul writes: "Because we know that this extraordinary day is just ahead, we pray for you all the time—pray that our God will make you fit for what he's called you to be, pray that he'll fill your good ideas and acts of faith with his own energy so that it all amounts to something. If your life honors the name of Jesus, he will honor you. Grace is behind and through all of this, our God giving himself freely, the Master, Jesus Christ, giving himself freely."  (2 Thessalonians 2:11-12 in The Message)

Happiness is being "The Pie Lady"

This weekend we went to a picnic with five families from previous assignments,  When deciding what to make, I decided on making two of my favorite pies - the Chocolate Chip Derby Pie and the Cherry Berry Pie.  On Saturday morning, I gathered the ingredients, made the crusts and set out for the task at hand.  When Shawn came in the kitchen, he asked, "Why pie?  No one at this party will know that you're the Pie Lady.  This is your chance to remake yourself... no need to be chained to the past."

I thought about this for a minute or two.  After bringing pies to many events in the last five years, it didn't really occur to me that I would NOT bring pie, even if I was bringing something else.  I've worked hard to develop my recipes, and am happy to share with people who enjoy them.  And so I replied, "But I'm happy for pie to be "my thing."  It's a dying art and I don't want it to get lost in the process."

And so we went with our two pies to the picnic... and the Pie Lady still lives on.

So in my effort to keep the art of pie making alive, I'm sharing with you some of my best tips.

1 - I've used Pillsbury Refrigerated Crust since it came out... and it's a really good crust.  In fact, I keep a package in the freezer in case of a pie emergency.  But  I have finally found a crust recipe that works consistently for me.  And so I'm going to share that with you, just so that you can see if it works for you, too.

2 - Most fruit pies need a bottom crust and a top crust.  The top one can be the same crust as the bottom, but the top one can be a mixture of flour, sugar, butter and oatmeal, often called a streusel topping.  Cherry and apple are especially good with streusel topping.  And if you're going to top your pie with a regular crust, do something fancy like cutting out shapes with a cookie cutter (I'm partial to stars) or making a lattice top.  Don't think that's too hard because I've taught my nieces and nephews to make lattice tops, so you can learn it, too.

3 - Know your oven.  The time in a recipe is usually a starting place for me.  You want the top crust to be brown and crisp-looking and the filling to be bubbly toward the center.  If it's not, your pie will be soupy in the middle.

4 - Cooked pies need to cool to lukewarm or room temperature, otherwise they will run when cut and make the bottom crust soggy.

5 - Fruit pie and ice cream is an equivalent breakfast to cereal with fruit and milk.

Deb's Very Easy Pie Crust
(If you don't have shortening, you can use all butter.)
[I use a food processor, but you can make this with a pastry blender or two knives to cut the fat into the flour.]
2 1/2 cups all-purpose flour
1 tsp salt
8 tablespoons butter (1 stick), chilled and cut into small pieces
4 tablespoons shortening
6-8 tablespoons ice-cold water

Place the flour and salt in the bowl of your food processor or mixer.  Add the butter pieces and the shortening and cut into the flour.  In a food processor, pulse the mixture until the fat is broken down into pieces the size of peas.  If using a mixer, use a pastry blender or two knives to cut the fat into the flour.  After that is accomplished, add the ice cold water a tablespoon at a time until the crust comes together in a ball.  This usually takes 5-7 tablespoons, depending on the humidity and the brand of flour you use.  (If I'm not using my food processor I do this part with the dough hook on my mixer.)

Pour the crust mixture out on a lightly floured surface and bring together in a ball.  Divide into two pieces, pat into round disks about 4 inches in diameter, and wrap in plastic wrap.  Chill for at least 30 minutes.  Can be held overnight or frozen for future use.

When ready to put the pie together, bring the dough out of the refrigerator and use a rolling pin to make into a 12-inch circle.  Line a 9 or 10-inch pie plate with the dough.  Ease it into the corners at the bottom of the plate carefully.  If it tears, no worries, just piece it back together.

Repeat with the top crust - crimp edges to seal so that the juices won't run into the bottom of your oven.  (I usually bake mine on a cookie sheet lined with foil, just in case.)

Fruit Filling (I find that most fruit pies (not apple) use the same proportions fairly well.)
3 cups of fruit (raspberries, blackberries, cherries, peaches, rhubarb & apricots work well, often in combination)
1/2 to 3/4 cup granulated sugar, depending on taste
2 tablespoons lemon juice
3 tablespoons corn starch or tapioca
2 tablespoons butter, melted
(cherry and berry pies often benefit from the addition of 1/4 teaspoon of almond extract)

Mix filling ingredients together and place in prepared pie crust.  If you use frozen fruit, you may need to drain the excess juice, otherwise your pie may overflow it's borders.  Bake at 375-400 degrees for 30 minutes, check the pie, and if the pie is browning on the edges, turn the temperature down to 350.  Or you can over the pie loosely with aluminum foil, to keep it from browning too fast.

Struesel Topping
1/2 cup of all-purpose flour

1/2 cup oatmeal (old-fashioned or quick, not instant)

1/2 cup of butter, melted

1/2 cup granulated sugar

1/2 teaspoon of salt

Mix ingredients together into a sandy mixture.  Sprinkle on top of fruit mixture in crust and bake as previously described.

Enjoy!

Peace, Deb