Low Maintenance

Everything Is A Gift

We had only been in the renovated rectory a few weeks when this plant arrived – a welcome to your newly renovated space gift. It’s a Lotty Dotty Pink Hypoestes – cat safe and low maintenance. It matches my pink paper clips and push pins and makes me happy whenever I see it. It’s a thoughtful gift that adds beauty and life to my work space.

Animal friendly, low maintenance, not fussy, and bringing joy: it’s a good description of a human life well lived, too. And this plant as good an image of such a life as any other.

Twice Given

He didn’t paint it for me; my son painted it for my mother-in-law, Carol. From Colin’s earliest days, Carol would sit with him at her breakfast table and watch the birds flying in and out of the back yard. It meant enough to Colin that he asked her for a backyard bird guide when he was seven. Because Carol noticed the beauty of birds, Colin did, too. For Christmas a few years before Carol died, Colin painted this tile for her.

Carol’s Gift

When Carol died, the painting came back – a reminder of love and time spent together appreciating the beauty and grace just outside the window. Such a simple, powerful, life-changing act, this giving. How immeasurably richer life is because of such things.

Celtic Knots

The group wanted to explore Celtic spirituality for Advent in 2019. David Adam’s The Cry of the Deer: Meditations on the Hymn of Saint Patrick provided the words and Debbie Hill instruction in drawing Celtic knots. Debbie is an artist and calligrapher, and adventurous enough to take on teaching a dozen of us how to use pencils, dot paper, and ink to create intricate patterns. The first knot took more than an hour to make – a simple square. By the fourth or fifth try, I could manage a basic knot without needing to look at the directions.

The following weeks brought thoughtful conversation on Saint Patrick’s Breastplate and increasingly more intricate knots – candles frames, and diamonds embedded with crosses. Pulling out the dot paper, pencils, and pens turned into a prayerful act; seeing a pattern emerge from a collection of dots and circles, imperfectly formed but still pleasing, became a way of clearing my mind and opening my spirit to God.

I’m not known for my artistic ability, and I’ve never found drawing satisfying or relaxing. But Debbie’s encouragement and creativity opened up a new way to pray that’s lasted years beyond the original Advent study. I’m still surprised by it, and profoundly grateful.

Everything Is A Gift

It’s You I Like

Tiny Mister Rogers

I met Mister Rogers in 1994 when he came to offer his television ministry experience to the seminary media department. He was in person as he was on television. It took him half an hour to walk across the quad because he would stop and listen to every person who came up to meet him – most telling him how much he meant to them when they were children. Many left in grateful tears, twice blessed because they got to say thank you for the kindness he had given decades earlier.

There was a quiet approachability about Fred Rogers that changed the air around him. He wanted good things for other people, especially the very young and vulnerable, and he spent his life working to bring those good things to fruition. He was that rare and rarely recognized person: a living benediction for all he met.

I remember that every time I see his likeness on my table – a gift from my own child.

Every Single Thing

I was looking for a focus for today’s words when Tom Hanks as Mister Rogers appeared in the movies we think you’d like line of my streaming feed. I’ve seen the movie already, but it brought to mind the Mister Rogers that keeps me company in my work space. I took this picture, planning to crop it down to just Fred:

Everything Is A Gift

Looking to crop most of this out, I saw in this image what I hadn’t noticed before – not when I began writing on gifts, not the twice weekly watering times, and not when I gathered and placed all these things on my sons’ repurposed side table: Mister Rogers is only one of seven gifts in this picture.

Come to think of it, one of eight. I’m going to include the gift of eyes to see what surrounds me as an eighth…

What gifts are gathered on your table?

Once, Now, and Yet To Be…

The Christmas cactus has been blooming for a couple of weeks. I took this picture before I really saw that many of the flowers had gone by. Hoping for a more pleasing picture, I removed them.

That’s when I noticed all the buds. They are so much smaller than the faded blooms, and they don’t catch the eye like the flowers in their prime. But there they are, the sure signs of beauty to come. How extraordinary a gift to see the promise of what is yet to be, the presence of what is, and the vestiges of what once was, sitting on my bookcase.

There’s something here, gently nudging me to a truth usually overlooked. Appreciate the gift of what was and the beautiful vitality of what is. And, when the signs of what is yet to be appear, take notice and be grateful. Cactus wisdom at its best. If I apply it to my life as a whole, I just might get a glimpse of God’s presence in just about everyone and everything. I just might stop to honor the holy that Once was, rejoice in the Now, and love the Yet To Be.

Lord, grant me eyes to see.

Gifted

I’ve had them for over twenty years – a gift from my friend, Elizabeth. She sent the set because she thought they would go well with my dining room chairs – and even though she hadn’t seen the chairs in months, the napkins matched them perfectly in both color and pattern.

What you can’t see when they are folded are the frayed edges and the faint stains. They have graced my holidays and my every day table weekly. Every time I put them out, I think of my friend and how her work has brought beauty into my home.

New things have a beauty that cannot be matched by the time-worn and use-worn. But old things have a history that come with them, cords connecting to years long gone and people no longer living next door or living.

Blessed be such ties that bind our hearts together.

This is one in a Thanksgiving series. Click Good Gifts above for more…

Perfect Turn of Phrase

Why the gods above me think so little of me…

Whether near to me or far…

I love Paris in the Springtime…

It’s a perfect collaboration – Cole Porter’s words and music, Ella Fitzgerald’s perfection in bringing them to life. Something comes into being that continues to be as amazing today as it was in 1956. Timeless and equally of its time. Words and delivery coming together in a way that heightens both. I’m more fully human because I’ve spent time with this music.

I feel the same thing every so often when someone standing at a lectern offers words of scripture, occasionally even singing them. Ancient words oft repeated, suddenly alive in a new way – and offering life to all who hear them.

Ella Fitzgerald Sings the Cole Porter Song Book, Verve, 1956

Unexpected

It was a gift I didn’t request, didn’t really want, but received on Christmas, 1985. When I finally slipped the album out of the cover just after New Year’s and a day before meeting up with the person who gave it to me, I just wanted to be familiar enough with the songs to prove that I’d actually listened to it. But there was something about Brothers In Arms that kept me playing it over and over again. Walk of Life and Money for Nothing were instant favorites, but it’s the title song that haunts. I’d seen enough of pain, loss, and death to realize how little I knew of pain, loss, and death. Listening to Brothers In Arms, I understood the Vale of Tears, the Shadow of the Valley of Death in a whole new way – Biblical imagery wed to life. And that we cause the suffering and death ourselves far too often.

For this one song, it would be on my top ten list…but the rest of the album is amazing, too.

Dire Straits, Brothers In Arms, Vertigo Records, AIR Salem, Montserrat and Power Station (NYC),1985

There’s a thin line between Saturday night and Sunday morning…

History Lesson, history lesson…

I first heard Fruitcakes the song driving from New Jersey to New Hampshire, somewhere on the Mass Pike. I stopped off at a strip mall music store in Plaistow, New Hampshire, and bought the newly released album on cassette so I could play it for the last hour of the drive to my parents’ house in Barrington. I’d always liked Jimmy Buffett, but not enough to pull the car over to buy his latest. But for a song that fills me with delight and makes me think, I will (Lyle Lovett’s Church from Joshua Judges Ruth was the second one that got me to pull over).

It’s a wonderful mix of covers and original songs, poking fun at and holes in the boring, question-ending, rigid answers to life, the universe, and everything – and just plain fun to sing along to. Jimmy Buffett was a master at poking fun rather than making fun – no malice or bitterness. Thirty years later, the whole album is still on my most frequently listened to list. To take life and all its complexity seriously, and to hold it lightly; to delight in what life brings, even the mistakes. To lighten the burdens of others, even for the length of a song, is a gift. And a life lesson…

Jimmy Buffett, Fruitcakes, Margaritaville Records, May 24, 1994

Moving into God’s presence through words