A Tale of Two Wildfires - Ashes to Ashes

All I have to do is look up from my computer screen and a riot of color awaits me just outside my window.  I recently drove into the national park to enjoy the colors, but aside from a visit with the pygmy goats, all I was searching for was right in my own neighborhood.  I like to watch the leaves falling - especially the oak leaves as they do their spiral dance.  I've always loved autumn (even if my joints do not agree with my preferences)!  A few minutes of looking at my neighbor's tree through my window and even my cranky knees quiet down...

Autumn and falling leaves - trees preparing to rest for the winter.  Some see autumn as the season that hearlds death (after all, those falling leaves are no longer alive).  Halloween is rooted in our ancient ancestor's belief that at this time of year, the space/boundary between life and the otherworld is thin - liminal - and can be more easily crossed.  Our Celtic ancestors celebrated this time as Samhain. In Mexico they celebrate Día de los Muertos and welcome back the souls of their deceased relatives for a brief reunion and party that often takes place in the cemetery.  Death and life - ending and beginnings - all brought together.  Change - we mark the changes of season and time - whether or not we want to!  

There are so many things over which I have no control - I cannot will the leaves to stay green and the nights to stay short.  The seasons change even if I refuse to flip the page on the calendar.  Soon it will be winter - a pandemic winter.  Sigh.

Wildfire I:  It began October 14th but I didn't know about right away.  Was it denial that kept me from taking in the news that HOME was burning?  I have lived in five different states and two different countries, making homes in every place I've lived.  Each place has felt more or less like home after a time, but only one place was etched in my soul even before I arrived there.  I recall that November day in 1987 when my preschooler and I got off the plane in Denver - it felt wonderfully familiar, like visiting an old friend.  In between interviews we headed west on Route 40 until we got to the exit for Empire and Rocky Mt National Park.   The trip over Berthoud Pass and through Middle Park was incredible - like a homecoming.  We got to Grand Lake and I was in tears - awed by what I saw and how it felt to be there.  We ventured into the Park and deep into the Kawuneeche Valley - stopping only when we reached the gate closing the road.  We got out of the car and David played in the snow.  From that moment on I was in love with the western side of RMNP - a place we would hike every chance we got once we moved to Denver seven months later.  Due to serendipity, I bought a one room cabin on Woodpecker Hill that gave us spectacular views of Grand Lake, Baldy and the Continental Divide (for less than a nice SUV costs today, as Grand Lake was not yet a prime destination).  The cabin was very simple (no running water in the winter and a fireplace for heat) but I felt such a sense of peace when there.  Weekends and holidays there were a joy (even if in the winter we had to hike up the hill because my VW Golf could not get up the dirt road for all the snow).  I felt known and at peace in that place- like I had always lived there.  It was HOME.

When David was six I almost moved us up to the cabin to make a life in the place I loved.  Instead, I continued on in ministry first (and briefly) in Arizona and then on to California, eventually selling the cabin. But I brought us back to Grand Lake once a year.  I spent my 30th and 50th birthdays there with my family, hiking my favorite trail (East Inlet).  I've retreated there when my heart was broken to bits and needed the healing medicine I could only find there.  David will scatter my ashes there when I die.  Ashes to ashes...

...to ashes.  The fire started north of Hot Sulphur Springs.  High winds turned it into a monster that swallowed up forests of beetle killed lodgepole pines - trees weakened by the changing climate that then became vulnerable to this opportunistic pest.  The fire then ate houses and outbuildings and even crossed into parts of Grand Lake.  It spotted onto Woodpecker Hill.  It rolled into the west side of RMNP and blackened trails that my son was raised hiking.  The North Inlet (my second favorite trail) is fully in the fire zone - that is the first place I saw a moose nursery (which I named the moosery.  You had to walk a long time to reach that spot, but if you timed it just right, it was amazing).  The fire raced up and over the Continental Divide and began a steady march to Estes Park.  Currently fire lines and a new blanket of snow are holding it to a slow creep.  But the snow will not put out the fire in the stands of trees, and the weather is set to warm up again on Tuesday.  So much has been destroyed.  And it is perilously close to joining up with Colorado's largest wildfire - the Cameron Peak Fire.  That fire started south of Red Feather Lakes - a place where there is a thriving Buddhist community, and a beautiful Stupa that so far has survived the fire (unlike the other buildings surrounding it).  It, too, is a place of deep beauty that has been burned and scarred.

My heart aches at the loss - the habitat, the wildlife, the homes, the dreams and the people who have died.  Such a loss!

Several times a day I check for updates - just to see if there is any news.  I read the stories of those who know that their homes are gone and those who lost loved ones in the fire.  I celebrate the way the community is coming together to help each other - even with the fire still active and sitting on the doorstep.  My favorite trail - the trail that I walk in my head when I'm stressed or anxious - is just on the edge of the fire.  The little pine that I water with my thermos when I stop to rest just past Adams Falls may still be alive.  The first meadow where I stop to have breakfast and watch the sun rise above Baldy may not yet be scorched.  Or the rock I sit on when eating breakfast may look out at a blackened landscape.  The little cabin on Woodpecker Hill may be gone.  Ashes to ashes.

Snow fell there last night - a blanket of snow to soothe the fire - a hug from mother nature to help to calm things down.  Those on the fire lines will get some sleep tonight - it is too cold to be working the lines.  Hopefully everything will pause and rest for a time.  

Wildfire II:  I feel a similar sense of horror as I watch the metrics for the pandemic.   That fire has picked up steam and is rolling along, fueled by denial and hubris and selfishness and a lack of consistent leadership and an ignorance of interdependence that may yet kill this country.  I shake my head in disbelief as politicians lie to serve their own needs - needlessly putting lives at risk.  Pandemics are a lot like wildfires in that without mitigation measures to slow it down, it can reach a point where you can't stop it.  Since mitigation measured have been politicized (and thus demonized by many), it is unlikely people will mask up, stay physically distant and outdoors - especially with Halloween, Thanksgiving, Christmas and New Year on the horizon.  The pandemic firelines are not holding, and there is nothing like a blanket of snow to quiet things down.  I fear that we foolish humans may just burn everything to the ground!  And the scale of loss is so unnecessary!  It doesn't have to be like this!

I pull up the ARCGIS map and watch the fire creeping forward.  I pull up the COVID data and watch cases, hospitalizations, ICU admits, positivity and deaths racing in the wrong direction.  Wildfire season - and all the first responders are tired, be they on the firelines or in the hospitals.  I fear this season will bring much destruction and death - downed trees fuel the wildfire, and people ignoring public health guidance fuel the pandemic.  But it needn't be this way with the pandemic; we can build public health firelines.  We can take steps now that would make a difference - we can slow the pandemic fire. But I worry that our citizens do not have the will to take steps to prevent this from becoming a catastrophe.  Ashes to ashes. 

After the Fires:  From the ashes of the East Troublesome Fire, new trees will grow - but the landscape and its community are forever changed as they face this level of destruction.  I will not live to see the healing of this land that I love, but perhaps my Grandson, in his elder years, will see the beauty of new life flourishing.   

In time there will be vaccines that, if taken by sufficient numbers of people, will get us to herd immunity and eventually slow and control the virus.   I wonder what kind of new life will emerge from the ruins of our pandemic experience?  I wonder if I will see it in my lifetime, or if the destruction will be such that only later generations will see it?

Please do what you can do to slow the SARS CoV-2 wildfire.  Wear your mask, wash your hands, socially distance, outside is better than inside, avoid crowds, stay home when you feel sick or have had an exposure to someone who has the virus, and love your neighbor as yourself.  Then please accept what you cannot change and find a way to make peace with current circumstances - COVID fatigue or no COVID fatigue.  We change what we can, and then we formulate strategies for accepting what cannot change right now, hard though that is.  If you need help formulating strategies for coping during these next few months, please reach out.

Winter will eventually bring an end to the West's wildfire season, but unless we practice public health mitigation measures, winter will be an accelerant for this pandemic wildfire - and that would be catastrophic.

Photo by RMNP

With love, lamentations, and deep, deep sorrow,

Kim

A Piece of My Mind during this Quintuple Quagmire

We need not wait to see what others do.  Mohandas Gandhi (1913)

Lead With Love

I don't remember turning the TV off after the Presidential Debate last night. I remember sitting at my desk and shaking like a leaf in a full blown stress hormone storm. Somewhere during that ninety minutes of shouting, lies, bullying and name calling an inner switch got flipped and I got caught in an amygdala hijack. The shaking is my cue - something has sent me back to those very unsafe places in my childhood. Perhaps it was because none of the grownups were able to restore safety and sanity to the debate. My inner child knows that unsafe scenario all too well. Watching the debate last night ended up not being an act of self care and compassion. Nor did it help me to be a more informed citizen. And I don't turn to my political leaders for entertainment. What a wasted opportunity for all! 

Pray Often

The curse of my early childhood involves, sometimes, reliving deeply painful experiences when something trips the wire. I have found, much to my disappointment, that some soul wounds never go away - I get better at managing them, but the healing only goes so far, leaving the wound sensitive to touch - especially when that touch comes through a bullhorn or bat.  I don't know if this will be true forever, but it is my experience thus far.  I remember that in the story of the resurrection, Jesus still has the wounds of his crucifixion - the holes are still there.  As I child I thought that was an odd detail in the story - surely Jesus should have a completely healed new body for Easter!  But perhaps even old wounds can serve a purpose.

Give Thanks

I've noticed that this wounded part of my life helped to focus my commitment to everyone having access to a safe, just, meaningful and sustainable life rooted in those common values shared by all religious/humanist groups.  It has also sensitized me to those things that put that way of life under threat.  And we are living with that threat right now.

Practice Peace

Our culture is at a tipping point. We have spent decades trying on a distorted and narcissistic perspective that demeans our very image as a reflection of the Divine and diminishes our responsibility to one another, setting personal benefit as our bottom line: What's in it for me? What do I get out of it? How does this advance my agenda, irregardless of the cost to others? I heard these questions first voiced by a politician in a Presidential Debate in 1980 when he famously asked are you better off today than you were four years ago? The question invited everyone to look inward to their personal bottom line - and vote/act in the way that would benefit self above community. Now forty years later we have a presidential debate that had one participant acting like it was a remake of Mean Girls and the other forgetting the wise words of Pelagius: The enemy has overcome you when he makes you like himself. 

Have Courage

So here we are, in the middle of a pandemic with adjoining economic crisis, climate/natural disasters, culture war, racial reckoning and presidential campaign. Any one of these would be challenge enough, but we've got them all - the Quintuple Quagmire. My abiding hope is that, given the severity of the challenge, those entrusted with or seeking leadership would remember that we need selfless servant leaders in the room - now - and rise to meet this moment while resisting the temptation to pivot to lowest common denominator expectations and behavior.   Regrettably, I suspect that until we, as a nation, move away from what's in it for me to how can I help to make life better for all of us, we will keep choosing leaders who act out predictable re-runs of dated dramas and thus postpone the opportunity to find lasting solutions to serious systemic problems.  Sigh.  

Or...

Do Good

...in the words of Arleen Lorrance (1974), we can be the change you want to see happen.  

I always thought Gandhi was the one who wrote that quote, but he did write something similar (with apologies for the dated language):

We but mirror the world. All the tendencies present in the outer world are to be found in the world of our body. If we could change ourselves, the tendencies in the world would also change. As a man changes his own nature, so does the attitude of the world change towards him. This is the divine mystery supreme. A wonderful thing it is and the source of our happiness. 

 We need not wait to see what others do.

Be Kind

I have been in ministry for thirty-seven years (twenty-seven years ordained), and I can safely say that the last six months have been the hardest of my vocational life. As one who is committed to a safe, just, meaningful and sustainable life for my congregation and surrounding community, the enormity of the task has left me exhausted. And frustrated. And angry. And worried. Since humans in our culture do not easily (or willingly) socially distance and cover their faces, keeping people safe and connected is an abiding challenge. Dealing with continuous (and unpredictable) change and the loss of social structures and rituals that mark everyday life and help us to cope with significant events destabilizes everything! Now more than ever we need wise leaders and...

Be the Light

...each of us must embody that wisdom ourselves - we need not wait to see what others do. Each and all of us - masks on and socially distant - can choose to embody choices that move us away from singing that shrill aria of me-me-me-me-me and move us instead to singing about us and the common good - and help to transform our world with love.

Work for Justice

Last night once the shaking stopped and the anger started, I so wanted to put a therapeutic lawn sign out in front of my house so I could give my country a piece of my mind! Before the debate was even over there were some great memes going around that could easily be turned into really cutting lawn signs (sorry - bad pun). But adding more fuel to that fire is only going to help to burn the house down - and enough with the fires, already! Instead, today I put lawn signs out that are consistent with my values and help me to be that change - now - and invite my neighbors to be their very best selves as they mirror the Divine and love our neighbor as ourselves.  And so...

Encourage Others

...may this piece of my mind bring about more light, and less heat, for both our community and our vulnerable experiment in democracy.  And may all we say and do invite others to be their best and truest selves - a mirror of the Divine that leads with love.

Please, dear ones, be joyful!  Be a Blessing!  Be the change you want to see happen -  Now - because we need not wait to see what others do!

Much love and hope,

Kim  

Now

In a few days I will go back to work following one of the best vacations of my life.  Unlike previous vacations where I travelled to places and people that I love and missed, batched cooked for the next several months and worked my way through a long to do list, COVID kept me home.  So I put my phone away, deleted my work email account from my iPad (so I couldn’t be tempted by the number of emails in my inbox) and stepped outside of time.  Aside from a few appointments that forced me to track the exact location of specific minutes and hours, I fasted from my calendar and clock and feasted on time.  What a banquet!

*****

I.

One of the ironies of the past five months has been my perception of lack of time despite working from home.  Lack of time is my explanation for not chopping veggies or baking bread or tending my container garden or weaving or washing my dishes or visiting with friends or going to a worship service that I’m not leading - or not doing any number of other things that leave me grounded, centered and balanced.  And happy.  I love my work and love the people with whom I work - but especially during these last five months there has been an never ending quality to work that crowded out everything else, leaving me feeling very useful, but not very centered or happy.  Feeling happy during a global pandemic might seem like a stretch, especially when you add in culture wars, a presidential election, social upheaval and America’s reckoning with its original sin of systemic racism (Ben Fold’s new song 2020 comes to mind).  But as our elders throughout time have taught us, the heart’s ability to experience true joy is not solely anchored to circumstances - thankfully!

II.

I usually batch-cook when I am on vacation because I find it helpful to fill the freezer (in the hopes that I’ll have food to eat when I’m working).  I made a conscious choice not to batch cook this time, but to instead cook just what I needed from fresh ingredients that required time to prepare.  Wash, chop, season, simmer, taste - adjust - enjoy.  Slow food - totally enjoyable.  I had forgotten how much I enjoy cooking - even in my nightmare of a kitchen.  Yes - even in my nightmare of a kitchen, I can enjoy cooking.  Perhaps I should have that sentence made into a poster and placed on a prominent wall near the kitchen.  You can find joy even under less than ideal circumstances, and if you've seen my kitchen you know what I'm talking about...

III.

In May I planted cilantro in my container garden - hoping to harvest some of the leaves for a wicked good batch of guacamole.  And then many weeks passed and I stopped pinching off the flowers - and there went my chance for a good crop of leaves! But as I was watering the garden this morning I noticed that I had a healthy crop of coriander seeds - all ready for picking.  I gently picked the seeds into a little plastic bag to go into the kitchen, and planted a few back in the pot - just in case I get lucky and can have another shot at the guac.  You never know - those seeds just might grow.  And I have enough coriander seeds for any number of dishes - maybe I will travel to India or Egypt via my ugly kitchen.  Probably Egypt, in honor of my friend Dalia, who I haven't talked to in a very long time.  Time to reach out...

IV.

As I sit at the kitchen table - coriander seeds next to my iPad and nightmare kitchen in full view - I wonder if there is any hope that the balance, centeredness, peace and (dare I say) joy that I’ve experienced these past two weeks can carry forward as I resume my work.  I’ve developed a life pattern of working hard and taking breaks to rest, but not being very successful at mixing the two together.  This morning I found myself thinking about a Senior Pastor I once interviewed with back at the beginning of my ministry.  He told me that he only had two settings - on and off - so he would work nine months of the year (7 days a week, morning, noon and night) and then take June, July and August off to collapse at their cabin at the lake.  He commented that “life-work balance” took too much energy and discipline, so he settled for on/off (with the help of a very generous vacation benefit).  I was interviewing to be his Associate and recall thinking that this would not be a good environment for a single parent with a young child.  I also thought he was a misogynistic jerk (we’ll skip that part of the story).  Although I agreed with very little of the “wisdom” he said he was imparting to me during the interview (he was also very impressed with himself), I agree with his assessment that it takes energy and discipline to maintain a life-work balance.  I would also add that it takes intention and desire.   If what we are learning about resilience can be believed, then it would be wise for me to find a way for the two (work and not work) to coexist in closer proximity - like within the same day.  Either that, or I need a freezer full of prepared meals, disposable clothing and a self-cleaning house - and twelve weeks of vacation each year!

V.

For my NOW weaving project I’m putting some chenille on my little Baby Mac to weave some scarves (non-technical, “easy” weaving - very relaxing).  There are two schools of thought about weaving with chenille - one school says weave with the warp under tremendous tension, and the other says weave with as little tension as possible.  Both ways will produce a warp that can be woven into scarves, but I like the finish and feel of the low-tension warp.  Plus, it becomes a discipline and metaphor for life.  It is easier to wind with high tension than to wind with low, even tension.  The latter requires staying present, relaxed and focused - a good way to be.  The warp is ready and the loom will be dressed sometime tomorrow.  It has taken me almost two weeks to unwind enough to wind the warp without stressing it.  

VI.

Thanks to COVID, my dissertation research and project is now undoable, and, given our current reality, pretty useless.  This is not a new realization.  I knew this in March and cycled through the denial, anger, bargaining, more anger, more denial, and one more round of bargaining before I could accept the reality that the work would not be done.  That left me with three choices - rework the dissertation for now, postpone it until we are post-COVID, or call it a day.  I was 99% sure I was going with call it a day when my advisor and program director opened space for me to entertain the possibility that, perhaps, this work - in a revised form - was needed now more than ever.  So I've reworked the dissertation research and project and will move forward.  I feared that the lift would be more than I could manage, but found that the yoke was easier and the burden was lighter than expected.  Pivot and go is definitely the dance move of 2020.  

VII.

I’ve been worshiping with one of my favorite communities in California - watching them agonize over how and when to gather in person.  They embrace a theology that places serious significance on physically gathering together to worship God (using singing).  They believe that this form of worship is one of the key ways they demonstrate love for God.  Navigating their belief system while also trying to keep people safe has been heart wrenching for them, as they are also trying to follow the advice of their health department.  They are making choices that my belief system does not compel me to make, and I worry about them - and pray for them - as they find their way.  This is such a hard journey - for everyone!

I’ve chatted with dear friends - all of whom are impacted by COVID to varying degrees.  I have no illusions that the second half of this year is going to be more peaceful than the first half (I'm hearing the song 2020 again in my head).  In fact, I suspect that between the constant need to reset expectations (and, as a pastor, the constant call to help others manage their expectations),  the rest of 2020 is going to be more of a buckle up/helmet on ride than a meander in the lazy river area of this 2020 theme park from hell.  But it is what it is, and it doesn't do anyone any good to pretend otherwise (a behavior that, in the past, left one open to the charge of being a false prophet - a temptation I totally get, given how painful it is to say things people do not want to hear over and over again).  

I guess it is time to double down on self care so soul, heart, mind and body stay integrated and healthy no matter what the future brings.  That way I'll still be able to see that even in the most challenging of times, God is still at work in the world and grace and blessings abound!

*****

So the experiment is on - are the elders correct and can a person pray, chop, wash, simmer, weave, write and pivot their way  - every day - through this @#$% pandemic while maintaining sanity and a modicum of peace and joy?  Wiser minds than mine say it can be done.  And I have the intention and desire.  Scripture says that if we have faith the size of a mustard seed anything is possible, and I dare say that today I have faith the size of a coriander seed.  With God as my partner, I am hopeful that even I can learn new behaviors!

That leaves me with one last decision - do I still want to bake something Egyptian, or am I leaning toward India and making some ladoos...

With love, smiles and coriander seeds,
Kim

One of God’s Names is Avery

God visited me today in the guise of a seven year old girl, and I almost didn’t answer the door.

She rang my door bell mid afternoon.  Assuming it was Amazon leaving a package, I did not get up until the bell rang twice.  And there she was...

Avery:  Hello.  My name is Avery and I am your neighbor.  I don’t think we’ve met before.
Me:  It’s nice to meet you, Avery.  I’m Kim. You’re right - I don’t think we’ve met before.
Long silence.
Me:  May I help you with something today?
Avery:  No.  I just stopped by to say hello.  Are you healthy?
Me:  Uh - yes I am, thank you.
Avery:  That’s good.  Do you need anything?
Me:  Thank you for asking - I’m good right now.
Avery:  OK - if you need something please let me know.

She smiled and walked away.  Little did she know that she took my cynicism away with her.

Forget the endless news cycle, protestors, fear, world-wide disruption, unanswered questions, conflicting information and overall mind-numbing chaos - God’s still on the job, and one of her names is Avery.

We’re in good hands.  Rest well tonight.

With love and relief,
Kim

After a Severe Pruning...

 Pre-pruning

When I purchased this little fixer-upper home, I was unaware of just how many aspects of the home needed fixing up!  But one need that was abundantly clear was the landscaping - it was time to trim trees (the ones that had not landed on my roof during the September storm), pull out old and overgrown bushes, and give the outside of the house the full KonMari treatment.    

There was a bush (?)  near the front door that looked like it was part tree  - it was a tangled mess of branches right down to the ground!  My landscaping guy looked at it and thought it should probably be pulled out.  But the birds loved it and I subsequently discovered that it was actually a misshapen crab apple tree. Something needed to be done with it, so we opted for a severe pruning.  And the pruning was indeed severe!  For the remainder of winter I looked at what was left of the tree and wondered if it was now dead.

But slowly - ever so slowly, green leaves emerged - that beautiful color of green that sings SPRING.  My resident cardinal couple love that tree - as does a male robin who often sings from its branches.  I think it might just thrive after this season of severe pruning.

Post-pruning

I am watching my beloved congregation going through a similar process - although our pruning has happened through circumstances outside of our control (and not by someone wielding a chain saw).  The safer at home order continues; we will be a faith community meeting digitally at least through Pentecost Sunday.  Half of Lent, all of Holy Week, Easter Sunday, Eastertide and at least Pentecost Sunday will be celebrated in our little Zoom boxes.  Life transitions of every kind are now navigated through a screen.  And when your family lives outside of one home, family life now takes place digitally. I haven't been present to watch my son chase after his son since early February.  I missed my son's birthday and he may miss mine.  I offer thanks for digital chats, but miss what it feels like to hug the people I love. I sing songs and read stories to toddler Benjamin via Zoom - and am thankful to have that connection!  But we are embodied creatures; I miss how it feels when he snuggles next to me as he listens to a story.  

In this season of severe pruning so many of the things we normally do are not done, and great care is given to what is left.  Time will tell if what is left is what is most important.  When this is over, perhaps we will think twice about turning back to pick up some of the things we have left behind as we discover that we no longer need them.  Maybe we will discover that some things we are doing now are precious enough to continue even while reaching back to reclaim things from pre-COVID that we miss because we now know that they truly matter. I hope we don't just pretend that nothing has happened and try to go back to the way things were before.  We cannot live in the past.

I fear for our society and have a sense of alarm as I watch cultural narcissism get validated and normalized.  Our American narrative includes short stories like pull yourself up by your bootstraps and live free or die that can create space for extreme and unhealthy response, with the focus solely on my rights and what is due to me.  But that is not our whole story - and we are so much better than the low hanging fruit of self-centered individualism.  Amazing things happen when we work together for the common good and consider our actions in light of their impact on others.  That is the part of our story that I'd love to see amplified right now instead of what's in it for me or you have no right to tell me what to do.  Now is not the time to be channeling our inner toddler, unless we channel them in a moment of awe as we ponder the wonder of the interconnectedness and interdependency of all life.

I take great encouragement from every act of kindness I see.  Every selfless act of compassion and mercy makes my heart soar.  I get excited every time I see someone wearing a face mask - the darn things are uncomfortable and rarely make a great fashion statement.  But they make a great moral statement - I will accept this discomfort and inconvenience out of my care and concern for you.  I think that is absolutely beautiful.  Face masks are a powerful symbol of selfless service!

I do not imagine God as the Great Cosmic Landscaper who wields a chain saw in order to prune the church.  But as circumstances outside of our control do the pruning, I see God helping us to sort through the trauma while bringing life out of what looks like death and despair.  I trust that we will be healthier on the other side of this pruning.

This year, instead of reading the Easter story, we are living the Easter story.  Death does not have the last word.  The life and vitality of the church is stronger than a novel coronavirus, stronger than staying at home, stronger than physical and social distancing, stronger than selfish impulses, stronger than the siren song of we've never done it that way before and stronger than death.  In the past many weeks I have watched vibrantly rich green leaves of compassion and care bursting from severely pruned branches of my community.  This community has pivoted, adapted, embraced its mission and ministry and continues being Bethany - sans building.

That I get to be pastor of such an amazing community makes it feel both like spring and Christmas all rolled into one (although it would be okay for the snow to be done...).  

With love and many emotions, including joy -

Kim

A COVID-19 Lent - or - Fear Not?

Today is the Fourth Sunday of Lent. We begin the second half of this season of wandering in the wilderness seeking the clarity that comes with stripping down to what is most basic and important.  It is a time to be open to deepening our relationship with God. 

Who could have imagined that it would look like this!

My congregation is dispersed, everyone to their own home.  Our last time in the church building together was for the Lenten Supper/study time on Thursday, March 12th.  Following the directions of the health professionals, we then closed the building and immediately transitioned to remote church - all without time to put the infrastructure in place to do this (with a shout out to all the amazing people who made that happen anyway)!  Our first remote service was on the 15th, and we continue in this way for the foreseeable future.  Zoom has become the platform for community as those with access to technology meet via Zoom to worship and maintain our bonds.  The phone needs to suffice for those who cannot connect with Zoom.  And I fear that people are getting lost in this new normal that may last longer than we hope it will.  

I fear many things.

I fear for those who are in their homes and alone right now without easy access to others through technology.  I fear for those whose lives were precarious before COVID-19 caused the sky to fall - they did not need one more thing!  I fear for those who bravely go about their daily lives because they work in an area deemed essential - they don't have the security of staying home and locking the door.  They go out into the unknown every day to keep essential services that we all depend on humming.  I watch as the world retreats and shuts down - a fearsome thing to behold.  I fear for the children who already have enough to worry about, the elders who are terrified of contracting this virus, and everyone in the middle who are trying to hold the world together.  I fear for the loss of dear ones as this virus advances.  And if I am brutally honest, I fear for my own health.

And yet God says fear not.  And I reply, really?  Are you paying attention?

Fear not.  And notice - there is still so much good in the world, even with the international outbreak of toilet paper hoarders.  There is still so much to celebrate in the world even though some world leaders act like occupants of clown cars instead of the elder statesmen they are called to be.  For each one that is concerned only with their own needs and goals, ten others are there to serve the needs of the people - and are doing a good job under impossible circumstances.  Citizens fly their flags and put up Christmas lights to create a sense of solidarity and joy.  And people do good deeds - most look out for one another.  There is still so much good in the world - and it needs to be celebrated!  Good people doing good things every day - heroic acts of compassion and kindness are present in abundance!  Sadly, they don't get the same attention as the toilet paper hoarders and clowns do.  And that is a shame.

Spring is here - the bulbs are sprouting new life.  Soon yellows, pinks and purples will color my back yard.  And this year I'll be home to see it - and savor it.  I will make a point to notice and enjoy every blossom.  If the bulbs are going to work this hard, the least I can do is appreciate their creations!

Our experience of church is forever changed because of this crisis.  And that quiet inner voice reminds me that the outcome of that change - whether it is good or bad - depends on what we do and how we respond to these challenging circumstances.  If we forget who we are and the values and faith that shapes our common life together, and if we forget the lessons we learn during this journey and try to re-create the past as soon as the crisis is over, that would not be a good outcome.  But if, instead, we use this time to deepen our relationship with God and one another, find creative and safe ways to serve our community and incorporate these insights from the journey in the wilderness into our community life, then what emerges could be a great blessing.  To be clear - I don't believe God caused this in order for blessings to emerge.  But I do believe that God works with all our circumstances to bring about our highest and best good.

For over a week now we've been told to voluntarily stay at home; starting at the end of the day tomorrow the Governor of Ohio makes it mandatory.   In many ways, these changes have sent all of us who are observing Lent into the wilderness - alone.  Some say the most difficult times are ahead of us.  If that is true, we need to savor all the good we can find in order to safeguard our resilience.  We need to steep ourselves in love.  And the most direct way to do that is through prayer - where we connect with Love itself.  And the next best way to do that is through those who love us - and through our faith communities, where we find God with skin on.

As I lean into love, I find that the fear falls away.  I am left with that abiding presence of God that I feel in my heart as it radiates out in all directions.  I breathe deeply and sigh, wishing I could change these circumstances.  Knowing that I can't, I pray for the clarity and wisdom to discern between what I can and cannot change.  And may God continue to grant us all the courage to do what we can, and the strength to stop doing what is not helpful to others during this pandemic.  Feeding the fear is not helpful.  But facing the fear with love and factual information is exactly what we need.

I came upon this reworking of the Serenity Prayer today as I was composing the daily church email.  May you find it a comfort as you move more deeply into the Lenten wilderness - and journey towards Easter.  This may be especially helpful if you are sheltering in place with others.  : )

A New Serenity Prayer from the Jesuit Post 

               God, grant me the serenity

               to accept the people I cannot change,

               which is pretty much everyone,

               since I’m clearly not you, God.

               At least not the last time I checked.

And while you’re at it, God,

please give me the courage

to change what I need to change about myself,

which is frankly a lot, since, once again,

I’m not you, which means I’m not perfect.

It’s better for me to focus on changing myself

than to worry about changing other people,

who, as you’ll no doubt remember me saying,

I can’t change anyway.

               Finally, give me the wisdom to just shut up

               whenever I think that I’m clearly smarter

               than everyone else in the room,

               that no one knows what they’re talking about except me,

               or that I alone have all the answers.

Basically, God,

grant me the wisdom

to remember that I’m

not you.

          Amen

Much love and prayers,
Kim

A KonMari Lent - A Decluttered Life

Ash Wednesday is here - ready or not! I’ve chosen my dining table as the place for my daily Lenten time, so the table was decluttered and washed and a purple beeswax candle was retrieved from the box and placed in the holder next to a favorite icon.  Devotionals were placed next to the candle, including a new one that has me very excited - We are Beloved: A Lenten Journey with Protestant Prayer Beads by Kristen Vincent.  And, of course, my prayer beads were placed by the new book.  All is found and in its Lenten place.

Everything feels better after decluttering.

Lent is meant to be a decluttering time.  So much seeps into our busy lives - so much mental and emotional - and physical! - clutter.  Yikes.  When I moved here over a year ago I specifically chose a small house in order to force myself to simplify and declutter.  Suffice it to say that this is still a work in progress - but progress is being made!  I hope this season will bring progress in other areas of my life that are over-complicated and cluttered...

     ...simplifying commitments that lay claim to time, so my time expenditures mirror my values

     ...letting go of so much that I carry in my head and heart to make more room for God and the

           love that God brings into our lives.

     ...releasing behavior patterns that are not consistent with my beliefs and values, and that 

           ultimately cause me pain and create barriers between love and my heart.

A KonMari Lent - a time to declutter and simplify.  A decluttered life means more space for God and more resources for service.  What a gift!

I am so thankful for the collective wisdom that, century after century, led the Church to set aside this sacred time.  I am so thankful to my beloved congregation who walks this journey with me.  I sat tonight in our Ash Wednesday service and felt completely awash in love and care for this congregation.  God has given me so much more here than I ever expected. It feels a bit like receiving a beautifully wrapped present that, just through its beauty is more than enough - only to find that the gift inside is more marvelous than imagined - and is also your heart’s desire.  And it doesn’t need a return gift receipt!

And I am so thankful to God, who, year after year, draws us more fully into the realm of love.

I write tonight by the light of my Lenten candle.  As the snow falls outside, I feel at peace.  All is well.   What a wonderful way to begin my KonMari Lent!

I invite you to think about how you will use and explore this gift that is Lent - what intention do you bring to this season?  

With love and traveling mercies,

Kim