Cometsgirl

much is expected. Luke 12:36. 

Pondering at high altitude, reminded me that my obligation is about much more than switching airline seats. It’s about having a voice to speak on behalf of; it’s about having the means to provide for. 

I recall a good conversation some time ago about these words.  I’m thinking about that discourse as I consider, what am I going to do with my privilege?

Each time I travel, I am intentional about seeing local needs. Food pantries, shelters for the homeless and the lost, children without a voice.  It’s been such a good practice, coloring my experience in each locale. 

This is where I begin. 

Welcome to Iceland. 

Shuttled to International terminal, then a streamlined security check, I arrived at Delta’s international lounge.  First up – cappuccino and The NY Times. 

I’m struck by the “power” of assigned levels of travel. Honors, precheck, gold, elite, first.  The sense of privilege. Upgrade is often something I seek. And receive. 

It does make travel smoother and reduces the stress experienced by many in this day of travel. But do I “deserve” this? Have I “earned” these distinctions? Well, no. Not really.

How am I to offer some privilege to others? I think it begins with treating all whose paths intersect with mine with dignity and grace. 

And…I could give up my first class seat with someone in the way back of the plane. Oh my, I just am unable to do that. That’s a hard truth, not a good reflection of whom I want to be. 

I’m definitely a work in progress. I’ve got a long way to go and hopefully not a short time to get there. 

In the meantime I’m at 35,000 feet headed to JFK, pondering.

Traveling mercies. 

At last! The day to begin the long-awaited, and sometimes disrupted, return trip to Iceland has arrived. There has been much preparation over the past nine months.  Along with the preparation has come uncertainty and then necessary changes to the itinerary.

It comes as no surprise that I have felt buffered about because of the uncertainly, and the belief that crushing disappointment was headed my way. Looking back at other crushing disappointments, I can see that what then followed was surprisingly positive. It has been helpful for me to recognize this as I buffer about.  Also helpful was good conversation I had just as I was to embark on my return trip to Iceland. 

 My bags are packed. My last-minute tasks are completed. I am soon to be on my way. I can’t begin to say how much travel fills my life, my heart, my soul. I am gifted beyond measure by the ability to trek around the country and around the world.

I’m checked in for my flight to JFK and on to Reykjavik. 

Evan drove me to Atlanta’s Hartsfield-Jackson airport, where my traveling friend, Beth, arrived from her flood-disrupted life in Houston.  We three dined together at the Urban Foodie Feed Store not far from the airport.

Evan has now headed for the hills and I am settled into the hotel for the night. Tomorrow I’ll be on my way back to Iceland!

Traveling mercies.

by the changes and chances of this life.  That’s a line from the service of Compline in the Episcopal Book of Common Prayer.  I love that service, but I have not been part of a Compline service for a good while.

Lately I’ve been participating in Compline services offered each night online through St. Mary’s Episcopal Church in Cypress, TX.  The words of the prayers have returned to my mind and my heart.  Especially these words: Be present, O merciful God, and protect us through the hours of this night, so that we who are wearied by the changes and chances of this life may rest in your eternal changelessness…..

and then there’s Irma… disrupting and destroying most everything its path, bringing change for so many.  My travel plans to Iceland have changed with the hurricane’s bands coming to my neighborhood. Perspective please.  I’m inconvenienced. Thousands and thousands of others are in true danger as they hunker down or flee from Irma.

What are the chances that both my traveling friend and I would face disruptive change by separate hurricanes only two weeks and four states apart?  Indeed.

It is becoming clear to me that changes and chances of life are more the norm than I have allowed myself to see. What does this mean for me, someone who resists change and does not embrace chance?  Oh boy.  Well, for one thing, I can work to strengthen the foundation of my soul.

Yesterday, workmen came to my home to shore up the foundation of my front steps. They did this by drilling small holes in the bricks of the stoop, and then inserted some kind of foam that caused all the steps of the stoop to rise.  The foam solidified in a matter of seconds ensuring a newly solid foundation.

Where can I find foam to strengthen my foundation? Again from the service of Compline from Psalms 31 and 91: You are my refuge and my stronghold and be my strong rock . This is a good start.

Oh, and a good change came about this day, as I was able to revise my travel arrangements for travel to Iceland, leaving just two days later than planned.

Traveling mercies.

I’m in the process of getting shored up for travel. By this I mean ensuring I have all the necessary clothing and travel gear for my trek to Iceland. I like to travel light which means carry-on luggage only.  I’ve found there is an art to figuring out what’s the least amount I need to take with me to suffice for travel. 

For reasons too complicated to mention, I’ve just now purchased hiking shoes in 2 sizes. online, to be delivered tomorrow. Surely this is foot-shoring up. 

I’m also getting shored up in my spirit and soul. This is another kind of carry-on luggage, more appropriately referred to as baggage.  I’m learning in this sense, as well, to figure out what’s the least amount I need to “take” with me for my life travel.

Nine months of planning has gone into this upcoming trip to Iceland. While most of the planning has been smooth, even outright creative and enjoyable, there has been a sense, along with the reality that this trip is not certain. Chalk that up to Hurricanes Harvey and Irma.

Still, my friend and I have not wavered from carrying out travel preparations, so we must be hopeful deep down in our souls. And trust that it will go as planned.

What happens if we cease trusting?  What happens when we feel there is no hope?  That feels pretty bleak.

I’ve been going around saying “I’ll believe it when I see it.” Hmm…..  Isn’t there some scripture reference that fits this moment? Well, yes….Now faith is being sure of what we hope for, being convinced of what we do not see. Hebrews 11:1.

This morning I joined the online service of Morning Prayer that St. Mary’s Episcopal Church in Cypress, TX, has been offering daily since day one of Hurricane Harvey.  This day the service was held in the narthex of the church, where many parishioners and friends had gathered before journeying out into the community to help other parishioners, friends, and strangers tear out and down their flood-ravished homes.

The Rev. Alan Bentrup, Curate, offered these words toward the end of the service: “We pray for us as we leave this place; give us a strong back and gentle hands, that we may love and serve our neighbors, and grow closer to You, to each other and with the world.”

In a blog written this morning by St. Mary’s Rector, The Rev. Beth Fain, she wrote about her personal losses from her flooded home.  “It’s just stuff….connected to our hearts.”  She encouraged those who help clean out the homes of their friends, neighbors and strangers, to remember that “each item of stuff holds a memory, and that each item tossed in the front yard or placed in a garbage bag or dumpster is a little goodbye for the person you are helping”.

I would add to Alan+’s prayer, give us a strong back, gentle hands, and a loving heart as we tend to those who are in the midst of loss.

Often we we are asked to have a strong back. To lift a heavy load, to stand up with and for those who cannot do so alone, to take on burdens for which we feel are more than our backs can carry.

Often we are asked to have gentle hands as we soothe an injury or hurt, place our hand on someone’s back, or walk hand-in-hand with one who needs both care and shared joy.

Often we are asked to have a loving heart when that may be the least thing we are feeling toward a person or a place, a moment or a lifetime.

How is it possible to respond to all these “asks”?

I WILL WITH GOD’S HELP.

I’m still clicking (donate to Episcopal Relief and Development)  and praying my way through this day and the days to follow.

Use your God given gifts to serve others. 1 Peter 4:10

As Hurricane Harvey, and the ensuing flood waters literally engulf the Texas Gulf Coast and the city of Houston, I have a much different vantage point from those experiencing the torrent of flooding first hand.

My lens looking in is seen from a distance.  I’m many miles and several states away from the chaos.

My view also has the filter of another flooding event not so many months ago. In the same location, but no where near the extent of this storm. My best friend and I were caught up in the April 2016 Tax Day flood complete with rescue by kayak in the middle of the night.  It took thirteen months for her home to be rebuilt, and now just three months later it is under water once again.  This time a much greater volume of water has flowed into her home, and into the roads and rivers of the area.

My friend is in the very midst of this catastrophic flooding.

While I’m experiencing this flood virtually and not in person, I am flooded by emotions – some by my recall of the 2016 flood, and now of this flood from afar.  Fear, concern, wonder and worry- even hope. And… a wish to be there with my friend and others.

Mostly helplessness. What can I do?

First of all I can pray.  And pray again and again.

Then I can click on Episcopal Relief and Development and donate.  And then click and donate again.

In an email I received yesterday from the Geranium Farm of The Reverend Barbara Crafton, she states:

Becca Stevens of Thistle Farms in her daily reflection this day says:

Finally, in an op-ed piece by Danny Heitman in the Wall Street Journal is this: “The tragedy of Harvey has reminded me that compassion for catastrophic suffering shouldn’t be a momentary impulse, but a commitment of months, maybe years.” While the news, along with all the heartbreaking photographs, will die down and turn to new and more newsworthy events, this experience for so many will never completely die down.

So I’m clicking and praying.  I hope you join me.

 

I wanted to return to Iceland before I left. An Iceland journey in 2016 left me wanting more of this amazingly “alive and dangerous” place. Iceland is alive in the sense that it is in constant renewal- whether by volcanic eruptions, glacier calving, or underground thermal energy bubbling up.  Dangerous because of its rugged and unfamiliar terrain, its remoteness, and the two-lane highway with one-lane bridges that encircles the island.

At the end of our 2016 trip, my friend and I declared ourselves BRAVE WOMEN for having successfully, and safely, navigated this foreign land.

It took bravery just to embark on that trek.  Having survived severe flooding just weeks before, we took a leap of faith and took off for Iceland.  And, as the trip neared its end, I knew I wanted to return.

Now, with just 18 days before I return, another flooding scenario is playing out. Is it something about Iceland? Or is it just timing coincidence?  Whatever the case, “and then there’s Iceland” has taken on new meaning for me.

It represents something akin to “oh, and there’s that to consider- there’s that to think about – there’s that to deal with – there’s that looming out there threatening to create upheaval and uncertainty”.  Sounds a lot like Iceland itself.

So as I continue my preparations for this return trek, I’m mindful more that ever of taking a leap of faith. Kierkegaard felt a leap of faith was necessary in accepting Christianity due to the paradoxes that exist in Christianity.  Stretching that concept a bit, a leap of faith for me is about trusting that God is in the midst of the events surrounding my life, and that I trust that things will work out.  It’s always possible that the working out of things is not quite as I envisioned, but that nonetheless, they work out it a way that always has God’s presence.  And I need to have trust and faith.

I am anticipating this view once again- that of just seconds from landing at Reykjavík International Airport.

Traveling mercies.

I’ve been thinking about waiting. There’s a longing about waiting.  For both something to end and something to begin. I’ve come through a long season of waiting, with hope that I would make it through the waiting period, believing that something better would come.  And so the waiting has ended.  And never in my imagine would I have believed what the “better” could and would be. Honestly, I was not certain I would make it through this extended wait.  It was years long. It was like being in the desert, and now the desert is in bloom.

I think we are often asked to wait.  We are to have patience.  That’s not one of my better features. In Romans 8:25, we read “But if we hope for what we do not see, we wait for it with patience.”

This is definitely a reminder for me, because there is always waiting ahead. Travel. A phone call. A diagnosis. Conversations. Sluggish internet. Even 4:00pm when it’s time for my carefully crafted cappuccino.

This day I have proof of the result of waiting – right outside on my deck. A long-ago plant mystery was solved with the preliminary identification of the plant and then the harvesting of seeds to confirm the identity. This is a particularly special plant to me, having grown it for 30 years in the place I lived before my move to the mountains. I was more than distressed when I feared it did not make it to my new home, and set upon a path to identify and subsequently to grow once. again.

Each year I plant seeds harvested from the previous year, and then I am forced to wait — For the sprouting of the seed, the growing of the plant, and finally this day- two blooms! Definitely a reward for my waiting and for whatever patience I found for the wait.

May Sarton says “Everything that slows us down and forces patience, everything that sets us back in the slow circles of nature, is a help.”

 

I asked “am I better?”
The answer was “you’re bettering”.

That’s a word to ponder. It turns out it is a real word.  I had thought it was a kind of made-up word that stood for “not better, but getting there”.

I found a definition of bettering – “improve on or surpass; changing for the better; in less discomfort than before”.

So I am, in fact, bettering.

It’s easy over time to add layers to our lives– good and not-so-good layers.  Sometimes the latter color, or hide, the former.  So I look at bettering as a sign that some of the negative layers are being peeled away so the more positive layers can see daylight, even see sunlight.

Adding layers is easier that removing. Not all underneath is made of goodness.  Unlayering uncovers both goodness and “not-goodness”.

Hard stuff this uncovering.  And one has to be made of hard stuff to do the cleaning up and out. Am I?

Well, yes and no.  But I have help and that’s what is making the difference for me to be bettering.

“God is in the helpers.”  Anne Lamott