Constructing a life

I walked this morning with a friend and we had that conversation again about the task of constructing a life.  It never ends.

I am back from vacation and was invited to take on a new responsibility within the life of the church and find myself in a place of discernment.  Is this what I am called to?  Does the thought of doing the tasks of this particular position give me energy or fill me with anxiety?  What will this do to my current life and schedule?  

Retirement is a blessing and - I hate to say it - also a curse.  The both - and of life.  There is so much I don't have to do anymore - but the question is - what to do now?  Which ties to the other question - the ultimate question - who am I NOW?

I frequently talk about the "seasons" of life.  There was a season in my life - of about 20 years - when I worked directly with youth.  At that time I knew that often our weekly programs were about the question of "who am I?" Those were always the meetings that were sure to engage the young people.  What I didn't know at the time was "who am I NOW" is a question pops up throughout our lives.   

I can  always say - I am a beloved child of God.  But that is not enough to fill the 24/7 hours of every life.  I am a woman who loves God and wants to be guided by God as I work at a church, play pickleball, walk with friends, engage with family, etc. etc. etc. I am at times a leader and a spiritual director and at other times lost and very confused. 

One of my favorite prayers is by Dietrich Bonhoeffer and I will include it here.  It may seem presumptuous to compare myself to this Christian Martyr in a cell in Germany - but the quandry of how we may appear to others and how we struggle with self  doubt is universal.  And the final line of the poem -" whoever I am......I am thine" gives me comfort.

 Who am I?  They often tell me
I stepped from my cell's confinement
Calmly, cheerfully, firmly,
Like a Squire from his country house.

Who am I? They often tell me
I used to speak to my warders 
freely and friendly and clearly,
as through it were mine to command.

Who am I? They also tell me
I bore the days of misfortune
equably, smilingly, proudly,
like one accustomed to win.

Am I then really that which other men tell of?

 
Or am I only what I myself know of myself?

 
Restless and longing and sick, like a bird in a cage,
Struggling for breath, as though hands were compressing
My throat, yearning for colors, for flowers, for the voices of birds,
thirsting for words of kindness, for neighborliness,
tossing in expectation of great events,
powerlessly trembling for friends at an infinite distance,
weary and empty at praying, at thinking, at making,
faint, and ready to say farewell to it all.

Who am I? This or the Other?
Am I one person to-day and to-morrow another?
Am I both at once? A hypocrite before others,
And before myself a contemptible woebegone weakling?
Or is something within me like a beaten army
Fleeing in disorder from victory already achieved?

Who am I? They mock me, these lonely question of mine,
Whoever I am, Thou Knowest, O God, I am thine."

The Anchor

I am back at my computer this morning and I think back to "normal" - whatever that means.  I am dressed in my pickleball clothes and will leave soon to play pickleball with my friends at Woodward Park.  

I have already listened to the app - "Pray as you go" and am struck - as usual by the gift of my faith.  This morning I heard about the story of the calling of Phillip and Nathaniel.  This struck me today:

 

⁵⁰ Jesus answered, “Do you believe because I told you that I saw you under the fig tree? You will see greater things than these.” ⁵¹ And he said to him, “Very truly, I tell you,^[m] you will see heaven opened and the angels of God ascending and descending upon the Son of Man.”

I have just returned from a wonderful trip to Bald Head Island.  We as a family were celebrating my brother Geoff's 70th birthday.  We are a family that knows how to celebrate - they joined me on a cruise for my 60th birthday and Chuck's 75th birthday and we all went to Utah for Wayne's 70th and now to North Carolina for Geoff's.  

The whole week was full of fun and food and games and sun and ocean wonders.  Several times we were up early in the morning and just in awe of the sunrise.  It is such a gift to be living for a week in a community that shares that love of nature.  We saw the "heaven opened and the angels of God ascending and descending."  My sister in law, Vicky, loves my brother and wanted this week and the party in the middle of the week to be special - and it all was.  What made it most special was the love that was so evident.  There is nothing more precious for a sister than to watch her brothers have love in their marriages.  What a gift.

I titled this - "the anchor" - because my anchor is not just my family.  It was when I went home and went to church and saw familiar faces and sang praise songs and hymns and took communion and sat in a sanctuary that I realized - this is my anchor.  It is the relationship that I have with God which is experienced in a real way in being part of a church community.

I came home to news of 2 deaths within the church and struggles of friends who are important to me.  That in addition to my awareness of the news of the day - Afghanistan, Covid, floods in Tennessee.  Life is hard.  Life is not just a week at the beach - it is the daily struggle to survive at times, it is the perseverance of putting one foot in front of the other and keeping going, it is the commitment to love no matter what.

So, I begin this week at home grateful for the anchor of faith and - always - expectant - that as I seek to follow Jesus i will "see greater things than these."

Everything is Sacred

 That is the title of a book written by Richard Rohr and Patrick Boland.  And it is the story of all of our lives - everything belongs and everything is holy.

Richard Rohr writes:

"To work up to loving God, start by loving the very humblest and simplest things.....Don't start by trying to love God, or even people, love rocks and elements first, move to trees, then animals, and then humans.....it might be the only way to love, because how you do anything, is how you do everything." 

I started this Saturday by sitting on my front porch, reading the newspaper for a while and then just sitting and looking at trees in the front yard.  And the large and beautiful Hydrangeas that have finally bloomed.  I sit in wonder and awe.  Then my neighbor calls out to me: "Good Morning, Miss Margot."  I love it.

I feel like I belong here in my home.  It has taken time after Chuck died to really embrace who I am living in this home now alone.  My dog Ginger, sits with me and there is a sense of peace and expectation that I didn't feel always.

Two weeks ago, I made the decision to stay in my home a few more years.  I am becoming comfortable with caring for the yard and have enough people to help with house issues.  Most importantly, after 17 years of living here, I finally feel connected personally to my neighbors.  Chuck was the one that everyone knew and I was the one who was working often.  Now I am home more and find ways to connect and feel connected.  Everything is sacred.

And so  - porch sitting - has become an important spiritual practice for me.  An awareness of the seasons of the year in nature and the seasons of life in me.  And the realization that everything belongs and everything is holy.

I leave soon to go to a funeral with Audrey.  It will be sad and hard to watch the grief of all who loved this man.  And yet, I know - as one who has lived through great loss - that even this belongs.  It is so good to gather together as friends and family and celebrate a life well lived and to acknowledge the deep grief that remains.  It is also good to know that God is present in it all - bringing us strength and comfort and most of all - hope - in the midst of suffering.  Everything is sacred .