Author: cometsgirl

I’m on a two-day road trip of sorts. An East Texas road trip.

I have traveled to Houston to “go back home again” to Beth’s restored home, and to help with some necessary tasks for settling back into the home. Also to share good worship with the people of St. Mary’s and to enjoy Mother’s Day brunch with Beth.

And it turned out a road trip was on the travel agenda.

This afternoon we journeyed to Camp Allen, a hotel and conference center serving the Episcopal Diocese of Texas. It’s also a summer camp. My sons attended camp here as youngsters. It’s where they learned to sleep away from home. Good spiritual and independence formation.

When one gets beyond urban borders, East Texas has a special kind of beauty. Big, open countryside.

Reminds me of the Indigo Girls’ song Wide Open Spaces. “She needs wide open spaces, Room to make her big mistakes….”

I relished every twist and turn in the road, every field we passed.

After we arrived, I relished indoor spaces. This place and space is gorgeous, decorated with wood from the East Texas Piney Woods and with windows showcasing the views outside.

Tonight we were present for The Service of Evening Prayer.

“Now as we come to the setting of the sun, and our eyes behold the vesper light, we sing your praises….”.

Beth is here to teach students attending The Iona School for Ministry. This is a program of the diocese that provides training for those called to the bi-vocational priesthood or the diaconate.

Worship was led by one of the students and included a lovely homily. These words gave me pause: “We cannot love an invisible God if we don’t love our neighbors who are visible.”

Following the service I walked the labyrinth. As I twisted an turned on my way to the center and back, I heard the closing hymn playing in my ears and on my heart. “Seek ye first the kingdom of God, and His righteousness, and all these things shall be added unto you, allelu, alleluia.”

While Beth teaches, I blog. Surrounded by so much beauty.

Alleluia indeed.

Here’s the bonus. I met one of the diaconate students. Turns out she is is Southwest Airlines pilot. And actually is the one who hired my pilot son some 15 years ago. Small world.

We drive home tonight, and return tomorrow afternoon. Road trippin’ in East Texas.

Traveling mercies.

My brother gave me this wind chime over a decade ago. He had come for a visit and believed these pieces of sea glass would hang beautifully on my screen porch. He was right.

Last night, as I enjoyed dinner on the porch, Evan pointed out the glass strips hanging behind me were shimmering as the sun’s last rays of the day were streaming through them. What a beautiful image.

I realized that these are shades of spring I see around me these first days of May.

I have irises blooming alongside my driveway in shades similar to the glass.

“Every flower is a soul blossoming in nature.” Gerard de Nerval

“Flowers appear on the earth; the season of singing has come.” Song of Songs 2:12.

Yesterday as I drove into a big box store parking lot, I gazed upward as I got out of my car.

“I look to the hills! Where will I find help? It will come from the Lord, who created the heavens and the earth.” This day in shades of spring.

I helped bury a friend today. An artist of textiles, her work hung in the church, surrounding us with the beauty she created, and now leaves in others’ care. Shades of spring. Shades of new life.

Serving as crucifer, I stood just inches from the freshly dug earth where her ashes were poured from a clay pitcher. Whoosh. Gone to new life. Shades of spring. Shades of everlasting life.

The calendar says it’s Spring.

The 71 degrees outside at noon says maybe. The expected temperature of 43 degrees tonight says not yet.

Still, I can’t help but see spring no matter which direction I look.

Driving to my home…

or driving from my home….

or driving to town….

or taking a walk along a path through my woods….

and having a sit on a bench my grandchildren help build years ago.

Spring has its own shades of green and I absolutely love this look.

I love, too, the promises of spring;

“Spring is humming
Bits of something
A melody the simple part
A song that I once knew by heart
Juniper, wild indigo
Foxglove, lupine, Queen Ann’s lace
Will be coming any day
The restlessness
The quickening
The almost but
Not yet.”     Carrie Newcomer

“The violets in the mountain have broken the rocks”. Tennessee Williams.

What in your life is calling you,
When all the noise is silenced,
The meetings adjourned…
The lists laid aside,
And the Wild Iris blooms
By itself
In the dark forest…
What still pulls on your soul?”      Rumi

All this to say I have declared Spring has sprung, and my soul is leaping for joy.  I’m watching the greening of the woods crawl up from the valley, with only about a 100 feet left to reach my home.

“Fair are the meadows, Fairer sill the woodlands,
Robed in the blooming garb of spring;
Jesus is fairer, Jesus is purer, Who makes the woeful heart to sing.”    Fairest Lord Jesus

My most intentional Lenten discipline was to make crosses. I used found objects, most of which were natural materials. As I journeyed through Lent I found I was always watching for objects to use in my cross-making, and I found, too, that I looked forward to the times when I would “slip into” my crafting time with God. It was a good thing.

While I did not set out to make one a day for 40 days, in the end I did make just that- 40 crosses.

Here are most of them.

One of the suggestions of what to do with the crosses was made by the author of the book that served as my inspiration to enter into this Lenten practice.  One suggestion was to bury the crosses. I was really attracted to that idea, especially when an image was painted for me of burial and resurrection. The crosses would be buried, yes, but there was the possibility that some of the seed pods I had used to adorn the crosses might actually sprout.

WOW, I thought.

Thinking about an upcoming visit from a grandson, I thought he might help me bury the crosses.  After he arrived, and I explained what I was thinking, he suggested that we place the crosses “in” some of the foliage surrounding my home. That way the crosses would still return to the earth, but it would be possible to see them for as long as they remained in or on the branches and leaves, with always the possibility of seeds being dispersed.

Today we set out to return the crosses.

Just beyond the swing is a bank of rhododendrons. You’ll see – sort of – the crosses scattered there.

From the woods, mostly; now returned.

In this age of having information available at one’s fingertips, how does that old saying equate today? Yes, it’s an old saying. Yet, it is true today. Originally it referred to something being physically within one’s reach or in one’s hand.

These days the perspective could be seen as having one’s fingertips on any number of devices, where information is easily accessed.

I have information on my mind because today was filled with a mixture of truth and fiction, all delivered as if it was correct. All delivered in a manner of authority.

This mixture of fact and fiction took place in the Atlanta airport.

Evan and were at the airport to pick up our grandson who was traveling solo for the first time. All the way from Seattle. It was important to be at the gate on time.

Information I had been given a few days ago about traversing security without actually traveling, turned out to be inaccurate. Then began a marathon of steps and inquisition. A mixture of true and false facts sent us crisscrossing terminals, ticket counters, security lines, both expedited and slogged.

I marveled at how opposing facts were given in response to questions.

I had information overload right at my fingertip, that’s for certain. All “sold” as an umpire sells a call.

We had 2 1/2 hours to navigate to the gate where our grandson would deplane. We made it with no more than 5 minutes to spare.

Information at my fingertips. Mis-information at my fingertips as well. Most importantly, my grandson arrived safe and sound and now sleeps soundly just upstairs.

My Lenten practice of making crosses almost daily, turned out to be such a meaningful activity for me. By the end of Lent I had created 40 crosses.

Here are the last of the crosses.

White branches with yarn and seaweed from Iceland.

Found wood scraps with cluster seed pod.

This year’s palm cross affixed to last year’s palm cross, with colored stone.

Lemongrass stalks weathered over the winter. The largest of all the crosses, it measures 28″ in length.

The Finale. Found scraps of color, to create my version of an Easter flowering cross.

And one more created today. In honor of Jack’s verger installation, a cross made with Starbucks Easter Cards.

This intentional time of creating crosses with mostly found materials, while inviting God to be present, has gone far to give me a Holy Lent. And today a joyous Easter.

I journeyed to Texas this weekend to be present for my grandson Jack’s installation as a verger.

A verger, is a person, usually a layperson, who assists in the ordering of religious services, particularly in Episcopal and Anglican churches. Vergers assist the clergy and lay servers in the conduct of public worship.

Although the history of verging goes back over 700 years, this ministry of service and welcome of the Episcopal Church is thriving in the twenty-first century.

Last night, during the Easter Vigil, Jack was installed as a verger in his parish,

The service began outside with the lighting of the new Easter fire.

The installation was just before the passing of the Peace.

It was awesome. It was a joy and an honor to be a presenter and to witness this solemn and affirming moment in his life.

Following the service, the rector invited Jack to stand with him and greet parishioners as they walked out of the church.

Then it was time for family photos,

And dueling vergers.

This morning at the Easter Sunday service, Jack served as Verger. I was front and center, barely able to contain my pride in and my joy for Jack!

I feel like I’ve had an Easter banquet even before we prepare and enjoy our dinner later today. I give thanks!

Yep, I’m back in a chair in the sky. I think this may set a record. Three flights in one month. Actually, three flights in twenty days. I’m fast closing in on 400 flights in the years since I got back into riding chairs in the sky.

I’m headed to Keller, Texas, for a special event in my grandson’s life. He’s to be installed as a verger during the Easter Vigil in his church, St. Martin in the Fields, Saturday night. I could not miss this!

Those who know me, know I like to be on time. Actually I prefer to be early. I plan my departure times carefully, always building in extra time for the “in cases”.

When flying out of Hartsfield-Jackson I allow 3 hours drive time in order to arrive 2 hours before my flight. Often it takes close to 3 hours drive time.

So imagine my shock this morning when I realized my flight was departing at 11am, NOT noon. Uh oh. How could this happen? No time to figure it out. I left immediately, 45 minutes behind schedule. To a certain extent I was calm, well, calmish. Thankfully it was early morning on a Saturday. Evan reported that a WAZE check indicated it would be clear driving to ATL.

A quick stop for gas, but no stop for Starbucks!

An absolutely huge and glowing moon led the way, and even provided some distraction from concern. I resisted the urge to pull over to photograph. In lieu of a photo, here’s the scoop.

So as to avoid the suspense, I will say I made it to the airport over 2 hours early. Whew! And then my flight’s departure was delayed an hour. Best laid plans, – or not.

So I had an interesting conversation with a gate agent. Delta, as all airlines are doing, is increasingly automating all things flight related. Today I would scan my boarding pass on my phone and gates would swing open. Like at a concert or a sporting event.

Coming soon will be a thumb print scanner. She mentioned all this will further reduce the need for gate agents.

I mentioned how I go through Clear Screening where my eyes are scanned and then my security check is expedited.

Then she told me about the time she was working the International Terminal, where facial scanners are used for boarding. A woman was having problems with the scanner not recognizing her face. It had worked previously. Reluctantly she mentioned having had some “work done”. She was no longer recognized. A real bummer. I guess she will need to be re-recognized.

We all reinvent ourselves as we make our journey through life, but this example gives new meaning to putting forth a new face.

For now I’m in my air-chair headed to Texas to take my place in the front pew as my grandson becomes a verger. I’m a very proud Nana.

Traveling mercies.

Jesus said to his disciples, “so, could you not stay awake with me one hour?”

For the first time in my 76 years, I am staying awake with Jesus. I signed up for the vigil that began immediately following the Maundy Thursday service, and will end at noon on Good Friday. I have the 4:30am – 6:00am shift.

Leaving my home I was gifted with an extraordinary moonlit sky.

On entering the church, I “heard” silence.

I am surprised to find it welcoming. I expected to be uncomfortable in this place, alone, in the dark hours before dawn. To be honest, though, I am a bit disquieted when I hear a quiet bump.

I’m reminded of a podcast I heard some months ago. It was an interview with acoustic ecologist Gordon Hempton. His passion is to record and find places that are quiet. The quiet which he sets out to capture is not silence, but rather the quiet that is created by the sound of pure nature, void of any and all manmade noise. Hempton considers a location to be quiet if he can listen to the sounds of nature without any manmade interruptions for 15 minutes.

He believes there are only, at most, 12 places in the US where one can go without hearing any human caused noise. He will divulge only three: He names The Hoh Rainforest in Olympic National Park, Boundary Waters Canoe Area Park in Minnesota, and Haleakala National Park in Hawaii. I’m fortunate to be have been to the Hoh and to Haleakala. I can attest to the silence of the Hoh.

It is in this quiet space I now find myself. I do believe I have had a couple of 15 minute periods without any manmade interruption. Imagine that.

I’m behind in my daily psalm reading, so I’m using this time to catch up. From March 28, I shout for joy because of the work of your hands.-Psalm 92:4. The Reverend Barbara Craftan talks about when you stop seeing the beauty around you because you see it every day. She says wherever you are right now, there is something lovely you have stopped noticing. Stop. Look. Enjoy.

So here I am in the beauty of this silent place as I stay awake with Jesus, listening to the silence.

Reading just now from the Book of Common Prayer: O heavenly Father, who hast filled the world with beauty: Open our eyes to behold thy gracious hand in all thy works; that, rejoicing in thy whole creation, we may learn to serve thee with gladness; for the sake of him through whom all things were made, thy Son Jesus Christ our Lord. Amen.

Well guess what…. I got to spend an extra hour with Jesus because the 6am shift folks never showed up. They have no idea what they missed.

We began this day with coffee and homemade cinnamon rolls. Both the rolls and the table and chairs were provided by one of Beth’s parishioners. The photograph makes clear the rolls were quickly consumed. Delicious! Much to be grateful for sitting outside on this Spring day.

Today Beth has declared this day to be her Sabbath day. Generally this means doing no work, rather, doing only those things that are fulfilling. I’m along for this Sabbath. This day has already diverted from the “rule” of Sabbath as we’ve been out and about a bit, including a frustrating visit to the post office. Generating anger and frustration, this was NOT fulfilling.

Returning home, frustration lessened as some things were resolved the old fashioned way – speaking to a person on the telephone. This was enough to replace frustration with some pieces of resolution, and even bits of laughter.

Speaking of laughter, last night’s production of Ann was filled with wonderful humor.

Having VIP seating, it seemed fitting we would opt for “VIP” parking. A real bargain.

We arrived garbed in the Ann Richards t-shirts and caught the attention of other attendees and theatre staff. We photographed ourselves as we entered, and then a staff member asked to take our picture which would be added to the theatre’s collection of Ann Richards memorabilia. We were a hit!

Settling into front row seating as we awaited the theatre to fill, and then the arrival of Ann to the stage.

It was delightful!

As Beth worked to resolve some of the move transition issues, I created a cross using found ceramic pieces at the rectory along with a plastic chip picked up at the post office.

Next up packing up lesser-used items for the upcoming move.

Stay tuned.