Spud & Kevin

About mid-way through our morning constitutional (yes we still take two walks a day!), we passed by a house in the midst of construction.  A little boy, my guess to be about nine or ten, was digging around in the rocks and dirt in what used to be a front yard.  He was obviously there with his dad who was working on the house.

As soon as he saw Spud, his face lit up like lights on a Christmas tree.

“I like your dog!”  he shouted.

“Thank you,” I responded.  “His name is Spud."

“SPUD!” he laughed.  “Can I pet him?”

“Sure, if you have permission.”

He flew over to his dad who gave him the green light to meet my Spudster.

“Tell him to sit” I instructed the little boy, as I handed him a treat to give Spud.

Instantly, Spud was sitting and “giving paw” before the boy even had a chance to utter the commands! 

“What is your name?” I asked. 

“Kevin”

“Well, Kevin, just hold your palm out flat and Spud will take the treat.”

And Spudster did just that, as gently as a 70 lb. - ADD - solid muscled Boxer is capable of!  If it was possible for Kevin’s smile to get bigger, it did!

“Thanks!” he said, as he gave Spud one last stroke on the head.

“You’re welcome Kevin and Merry Christmas”

“You too”.

Spud and I were a few houses up the street, when I heard Kevin shout, “Bye Spud”.

I turned and waved, knowing I had just experienced a Christmas Blessing.

A joyous, blessed Christmas to you all.

An Advent Evening Apart

Last week A Morning Apart moved to the evening, as we gathered in community to enter into the season of Advent.  We walked alongside shepherds, kept our eyes focused on the star, listened for angel alleluias and wondered if we had what it took to make this journey.  We heard music, said prayers, sat quietly and then stepped out onto the road to Bethlehem.  A solitary walk, yet done in community, a gift for this season indeed.

 

TO LISTEN, TO LOOK

Is it all sewn up – my life?

Is it at this point so predictable,

            so orderly,

                        so arranged,

                                    so right,

            that I don’t have time or space

                        for listening for the rustle of angels’ wings

                        or running to stables to see a baby?

Could this be what he meant when he said

            Listen, those who have ears to hear . . .

            Look, those who have eyes to see?

O God, give me the humbleness of those shepherds

            who saw in the cold December darkness

            the Coming of Light

            the Advent of Love!

Kneeling in Bethlehem

Ann Weems

Bittersweet

A word of contradictions

There is not one

Without the other

Sadness and joy

Darkness and light

Endings and beginnings

Bittersweet

A word of contrasts

There is not one

Without the other

Risk and safety

Foreign and familiar

Holding on and letting go

Bittersweet

A word of opposites

There is not one

Without the other

A balancing act

On the scale

In one's life

Tipping bitter

Tipping sweet

Easing to rest

Somewhere

In the middle

And

All is well.

Bittersweet

It's The Simple Things

I got up on the right side of the bed this morning, but quickly jumped to the wrong side when our coffee maker wasn’t working!  Come on, Sunday morning and no coffee to be had!  Then to make matters worse, discovered my cell phone had gone completely dead!  What’s a girl to do but make an appointment at the Genius Bar (at least give me credit for knowing what that is) and look forward to the rigors of a visit to an Apple Store.

There you have it, a Sunday morning with no coffee and no cell phone, could life get much worse?!  Ah, but wait a minute, Bill and I could walk Spud up to Panera for a cup of coffee and a bagel – that would be a great alternative!  I’m learning how to be a problem solver.

 So I’m placing my order, when I notice a teenager that looks familiar.  Yes, I recognize him; he’s a former student.  I tentatively ask if he is who I think he is, and he gets this big smile on his face, which says I haven’t made a completely embarrassing mistake!  Now my first reaction is always to give a hug, but I know for most teenagers that is totally uncool, so I extended my hand instead.  To my delightful surprise, he gave me a big hug and said “Hi Mrs. Wawrychuk”.  I chatted with him and his father for a couple of minutes, caught up on the life of this now 9^th grader and left with my coffee and bagel in the best mood.  Remembering this young man as a little boy in my second grade classroom, not only brought back so many memories, but lifted my spirits as well. 

We headed back home, me feeling much less oppressed than when I set out! While going down our street, we passed a couple walking their two dogs.  The woman stopped me and asked if I was Mrs. Wawrychuk.  When I responded yes, she said,  “Do you remember my daughter ____________?  She was in your second grade class and she still talks about you as her favorite teacher” Of course I remembered this little girl, who was in the same class as the boy I had just seen at Panera!  

Isn’t that just amazing?  Seven years later two kids come along and out of the blue change my mindset from “Oh, woe is me; to ain’t life grand?’  And if the coffeemaker had been working, I would have missed the whole experience.

It’s the simple things!

Angel Networks aka Community

I attend an early morning weekly bible study at the church down the street.  By early I mean 6:05AM (come to think of it, I’ve never asked why 6:05 and not 6:00!)  I was invited to give it a try almost a year ago and have been rousing myself at that hour ever since.  As this is a Presbyterian church, I jokingly call myself their token Episcopalian!  They haven’t kicked me out yet!

The number of women on any given Thursday can vary from three or four up to a busy day of nine or ten.  It’s a fluid group, not everyone can attend each week, some appear once or twice; unable to make the commitment at this point in their lives and then there is a core of about six to eight ladies who rarely miss a week.  I never thought of these women as my community, but I have come to understand our weekly meetings are more than an educational bible study session.

Last week, the mother of one our regular attendees had a stroke.  We were given email updates on her condition, as the woman from our bible study group traveled to be by her mom’s side.  Soon, a food request came over the Internet, asking if any of us could take a dinner to our friend’s family.  Within a few hours, a meal was offered from every single person in our Thursday morning group.  As I read the exchange of messages, I was struck by the instant generosity, concern, and care these women showed for our friend and her family.  This little group of women, who stumble into the church library before the sun shows its face, hungry to learn more about the life of Jesus, have formed a community – of which I am a part.  And I am extremely grateful.

But, any of you who have read more than one of my posts, know my ponderings didn’t stop there!  I’ve been thinking about the many different communities that bless my life.   They are all around me, from my church, organized groups, friends of many years as well as those who are more recent.  Whether it is lunch with colleagues from my working days, dinner with a friend I see several times a week, or an email conversation with my college roommate whom I haven’t seen in almost thirty years, they all represent some form of community.

  Large or small, frequent or infrequent, they all have one thing in common:

“And when two or three of you are together because of me, you can be sure that I'll be there."  Matthew 18:20    The Message

I believe these various communities with which we are blessed are our “Angel Networks”.  God plants us in one another’s lives and then promises to be there in the midst.   It sure is a good reminder for me that we are not meant to make this journey solo!

Reflect on the communities in your life.  I bet the list is longer than you think! 

Thin Place Residue

My friend and I facilitate a monthly quiet morning called  “A Morning Apart”.  Folks gather in community for two hours listening to scripture using the ancient art of Lectio Divina, followed by time to be with God in the silence.  At the close of our gathering, there is a group reflection, where people briefly share their experience of the morning.

Last Saturday our theme was “The Thin Places:  Can you hold on to Holy Moments?”  You know, those times when you can feel the very Presence of something other than yourself, a God noticing!  No matter how large or small, you have been “touched by the whisper of God” (a quote from Noticing God by Richard Peace)  

The scripture passage was on the Transfiguration, Matthew 17:1-8.  Talk about Thin Places!  Can you just imagine going up the mountain with Jesus, seeing Elijah and Moses and hearing the voice of God?!    And Peter’s reaction, after the amazement and fear - let me build a dwelling for each of them so this moment can be contained!

You see, I get that response.  Please God, let me stay in the Holy Moment, don’t let it slip away; let me bask in the light of feeling You and having no doubts.  But of course, that doesn’t happen, just as Peter couldn’t save the Transfiguration by erecting a memorial.

During the quiet space, we often times offer the opportunity to explore a spiritual discipline, which somehow connects to the scripture.  Since my friend is the director of the church preschool, she suggested having a big tub of “goop”!  Unless you have a young child or grandchild, this concoction might elude you!  It’s a very simple mixture of water and cornstarch.  It’s fun digging in, trying to grasp the cornstarch, which has settled at the bottom of the tub.  And as hard as one tries, it is impossible to grip the substance for any length of time; it naturally slips between the fingers.

My “ah-ha moment” came during the closing reflection.  One of the participants shared of her experience with the goop, how she could not clutch it in her hand, but that it left a residue even as it dripped back into the tub.  Yes!  I thought, I’m not left alone!  I can’t enshrine the Thin Places, but they have etched a place in my soul, where I can reach back and relive the moments.

Let me close with a Celtic definition:

“Thin Places”…The Celts call this place,

Both seen and unseen,

Where the door between this world

And the next is cracked open for a moment

And the light is not all on the other side…Holy Space

 The Altar 

Unexpected but Manageable?

"Know that life just moved in like that storm the other day.... unexpected but manageable"

I wish I could take credit for that quote, but I can't.  It was the last sentence in a recent email from a special friend, whose family has been besieged by numerous health issues.  Just below that email, was a message from another dear friend with news of a possible long-term life battle in her family.

Unexpected but manageable?

As of this writing, I am on the other side of the pounding storms.  The deaths of loved ones, health difficulties, uncertain financial future, career decisions, relationship impasses, and even the "thorn in my side"; have taken a leave of absence - for the time being!  Hindsight allows me to reflect on those times from the vantage point of what it was that made them manageable.  God was always in the center!

Okay, not such an astounding statement right,  " God in the midst of the storm". How many ways has it been told and yet for me it bears repeating over and over again.  When the wind is blowing, the hail pelting, and lightning flashing, I don't feel very calm.  In fact it makes me downright uneasy and scared.  But when I look back with lenses cleared by rays of sunshine, I see the Angels.  They always come in a variety of guises; phone calls, emails, cards, hugs, walks, words spoken and unspoken, a shoulder to cry on  - and all from God.  He sends Himself through my family (which includes canine family of course), friends, acquaintances, and even strangers.  Here’s another noticing; when I’m in the middle of a storm, there’s always someone close by who is basking in good weather, ready to walk alongside and vice versa.  Isn’t that just like God?!

That’s how the unexpected is manageable for me, God’s Angels!

Have you seen any lately?

Been one lately?

Set Free

Not knowing how

Or understanding why

Only a sense

Of imminent change

A divinely led path

Through rugged terrain

Inward and downward

Traveling to the core

Traversing ravines

Resting on summits

Tiptoeing past safety

Trusting the Guide

An arduous journey

Moving toward center

Unmasking old fears

Claiming new truths

Only then does

Darkness become light

Inward turns outward

Downward reaches upward

Life no longer bound

By self-imposed prisons

Dreams are embraced

Possibilities envisioned

As fireworks burst

Into a starlit night

So does the traveler

After touching the core

Prepared to step out –

Lovingly…

Set Free

October 1, 2012

Recognizing Gifts - Of Those Closest To Us

Before I begin with my meandering thoughts, I must make two disclaimers.

1.  In no way is the biblical reference meant personally. ( REALLY!)

2.  If you talk to Todd soon, no need to tell him he was the subject of my blog. (REALLY!)

Last Friday, the Space Shuttle Endeavor made its way home to Los Angeles.  It was quite an exciting day around here.  All the TV stations were carrying Endeavor’s progress live, as it headed down the coast from San Francisco and made passes over strategic Southland locations.  One of those, JPL, is right here in La Canada (although the newscasters always place it in Pasadena). 

Todd joined his father-in-law, Don (a recently retired JPL Engineer – yes he IS a Rocket Scientist!), at a spot Don had scoped out the previous day.  He figured it was the perfect place to see Endeavor as it made its loop over the JPL facility; below is the picture Todd took of that historic moment.

When I received this photo, I was blown away (pardon the pun!)  What a shot – and my son took it!  I sent it out to friends and family, from whom I continue to get responses of  “WOW”, “Amazing”, “Awesome”, “What a photographer”.

Yeah, but it’s just Todd.

 Bill tells me “Well he is a professional photographer, Carol!”

Yeah, but he’s just our son.

As I have been reflecting on my reactions, not only to this picture, but my cavalier attitude about Todd’s gifts, I thought of the Gospel story of Jesus not being recognized in his own hometown.  After all, he was just the carpenter’s son.

You see where I am going with this?  How many times do I do that?

 People look at the beautiful bonsai Bill has so carefully and lovingly tended and I say

Yeah, but he’s just my husband.

Sound familiar?  Perhaps not; but as for me, this has been a huge “God Shot”!  I am quick to admire the talents of mere acquaintances or even strangers, compliment them on their achievements and accomplishments.  Of course, that is a good thing. But maybe, just maybe, I should take a look at those closest to me and not take for granted their God-given gifts.

So – Yes!  Todd is one great photographer!

And – yeah – he’s my son!

The Goodness of God

Last weekend was filled with the goodness of God, for me!  On Saturday, we began the fifth season of A Morning Apart at church.  My friend and I initiated these monthly gatherings, which include a time for scripture reading using Lectio Divina, followed by an extended quiet time to be with God in whatever way works for each individual.  Some read, journal, take walks, or participate in a spiritual discipline we might be offering.  This month we focused on Psalm 104, known as the ‘Creation Psalm’.  We set up five meditation areas around the church campus with one of Bill’s amazing bonsai’s as the focal point at each.  Talk about experiencing God’s creation through nature!

The previous evening I had another encounter with God’s Grace.  My son, Todd and daughter-in-law Amy, invited Amy’s parents and us for dinner to announce the gender and name of our first grandchild.  They very cleverly gave us each a picture frame that said “first grandchild’ with a photo of the name spelled out using scrabble letters.  Tears were flowing, as Bill and I realized this new little fellow would be carrying our name to the next generation! 

I hope these pictures give you a flavor of "The Goodness of God"!

Full Circle

Have you ever had the experience of life coming ‘full circle’?    You know, those times when you realize you’ve been in this place before, but now you’re coming at it from the other direction.  I had one of those this weekend.

Fourteen years ago it seemed as though my life was falling apart.  I was in the midst of two major crises and feeling pretty hopeless.  I had just started attending a Presbyterian Church, which had a Stephen Ministry program.  This amazing group of people volunteer to walk alongside a person who needs a companion while maneuvering through a rough patch in life.  They don’t give advice, it’s not psychotherapy; it’s just great big doses of TLC when you need it most!  I was fortunate enough to be a recipient of the care given by an incredible Stephen Minister.  Not only did she walk me through my crises, but we formed a spiritual friendship that continues to thrive to this day.

So here I am all these years later and I was asked to facilitate a retreat, which would commence their new year of ministry.  As I began the morning with a brief introduction of myself and why Stephen Ministers had been such a pivotal part of my life, I was struck by the ‘full circleness’ of it all!  (I don’t think ‘circleness’ is a word, but it just seems to fit!).  God was allowing me the opportunity to give back in some small measure, that which had been so freely given to me all those years ago. 

I’d like to say, instead of being on the receiving end, I was on the giving end.  But this full circle thing doesn’t exactly work like that, does it?  Because you see as I sat in the retreat Saturday morning, I was once again receiving.  I was filled with gratitude for this ministry and for a God who is so faithful.  He has never given up on me, even when time after time I have doubted myself.  A full circle blessing, indeed!

So, back to the beginning, have you ever had the experience of life coming ‘full circle’?    I bet you have.  It’s pretty awesome isn’t it?

Marker Events

Who would ever think painting one’s house could be a marker event; that line in the sand that separates a before and after segment of life?  Well, I’m here to tell you it has been for me – two times!

Ten years ago we gave our home a facelift.  It not only needed a fresh coat of paint, but a change of color as well!  As luck would have it (I choose to see it as a God shot) the man who owned the painting company had a Master of Divinity degree! I recall in depth conversations in the midst of checking out color palates and deciding whether or not to boldly use burgundy on our front door! I wanted to ‘warm’ the house up a bit; to have an invitational and welcoming entryway.

This was also a time of huge change in my life.  I left my sixteen-year teaching position with Los Angeles and returned to a classroom in my hometown.  In addition to a shift in career paths, it was the period of my mother’s rapidly spiraling decline into the disease of Alzheimer’s. 

So painting our house represented a new direction, a stepping out into uncharted territory – a ‘marker event’.  However it was never so clear as two months after completion of the painting, when mother finally succumbed to her disease.  It had been a long difficult struggle; emotionally, mentally, and physically.  I very much wanted to celebrate her life and the healing that had been part of the journey she and I shared.  After the memorial service, I invited everyone over for a reception.  That was actually the first occasion to receive friends and family at our welcoming entryway with the boldly beautiful burgundy door!  I was saying goodbye to mother with grace and dignity.  And one chapter of my life was coming to a close, as another promising chapter lay ahead.  That line in the sand, symbolized by a fresh coat of paint!

Fast-forward ten years; I contacted our Master of Divinity painter.  I could no longer ignore the peeling wood and faded stucco!  But remember, it was only two years ago that we were going to sell this house; we had determined our “thorn” had won the battle and we would leave!    Ever so gradually, we have had a change of heart.  This was OUR HOME, filled with years of love and memories.  It was worth fighting for!  As was the case a decade ago, I had amazing discussions with Mr. Master of Divinity painter about thorns, forgiveness, letting go, and moving on!  About half way through the completion of painting, I realized this was about much more than freshening up tired looking paint.  I was reclaiming our home.  I am ready to remove the ‘thorn’ as the focus of my life; it’s time to move forward.  Another line in the sand, symbolized by a fresh coat of paint!

So there you have it!  Marker Events with a paint brush!

Meant to Live

The other day I had lunch with a good friend, who has been in my life for over twenty years.  We began as teaching colleagues back in our Los Angeles Unified days, but it has been in the retirement years that we have dared to go “beneath the surface” into a deeper friendship. 

As a matter of fact, it was this special lady who inspired me to try my hand at writing poetry.  My friend is an accomplished poet – has been for many years, but it wasn’t until fairly recently that she chose to share her work with me.  Her poems not only touch me, but also have shown me a freedom in putting my “stories” into poetic form.

Over lunch, we discussed how hard it has been to share our work.  Every time I publish a poem, either on this blog or as an email to friends, I think twice before I hit the send button.   I lay myself open and vulnerable, with doubts as to the worth of the words I have written.  But my insightful friend countered with this piece of wisdom:  “Carol, poetry can’t live it isn’t shared; it dies if it is not heard.”

My friend’s advice struck me and has been haunting me ever since.  We all have gifts!  Why is it so difficult to truly claim them with enough confidence that we dare to share them?  Perhaps our egos get in the way, insecurity, and the “committee in our head” shouting reasons why OUR gifts aren’t good enough!   The list is endless!  But if we have been given gifts from God, doesn’t it seem reasonable He means for them to be shared?

Perhaps it isn’t just poems that can’t live if they aren’t offered to others, maybe that goes for each of our gifts as well?  There’s a reason for the phrases “God given talent” and “God given gift” – they are FROM GOD and are meant to live!

So, how about you?   Are you allowing your gifts to live? 

God's Faithfulness!

God's Faithfulness; 21st Century Style

No Burning Bush...

But a phone call

revealing a voice,

unheard for

two decades.

No Prophet by the Jordan...

But an email

declaring a message,

of compassion

and grace.

No Dove Descending...

But a shooting star

blazing its light,

across the darkened sky

and into a doubting heart.

No Road to Damascus...

But a simple invitation

offering new vistas,

a change in direction

down uncharted roads.

No Balm in Gilead...

But gentle voices

whispering words that heal,

a soothing ointment

for prickly thorns.

Carol Wawrychuk

July 29, 2012

Thorns, Birthdays, and Honesty

Thorns:

OK, I’m a little sick of having the “thorn thing” in common with Paul!  You know how he prayed and prayed to have the thorn removed from his side and for reasons we were never privileged to hear  (nor do I think was Paul), they continued to haunt him.

Well, that’s my life right now.  The THORN IS BACK, only at a slightly different angle and perhaps not as big as it has felt in the past.   Yet it continues to fester, using my emotional reserves to dig deep into my bag of ‘coping skills’.  One of my biggest problems is the injustice of it all!  AGAIN!  I mean AGAIN Lord!  This is downright unfair, Lord.  WHY?

If it sounds like I’m whining, I guess I am – maybe not such a good coping strategy!  But there you have it!

Birthdays:

Yesterday was my birthday.  I had a wonderful lunch with my husband, son, and daughter-in-law, received lovely cards, phone calls, e-mails and texts (yes, times they are a changing!) – I knew I was dearly loved and celebrated.  But you can probably guess where I am going with this – the THORN trumped everything else.  As hard as I tried to ignore it and dab it with a bit of healing ointment, it was just not to be – even on my birthday.  So by the end of the day, along with the festering thorn, I was beating myself up pretty badly for not being able to rise above it all!

Honesty:

Later in the evening, two friends phoned to ask about my day and I decided to give an honest response.  I told them I blew it!  I gave my power to a thorn instead of celebrating my life and all the wonderful, caring, loving friends and family with whom I am blessed.  As I spoke, I literally felt my body start to relax.  I began to have compassion for ME, as my friends enfolded me with their love and compassion!  Yes, this is another rough patch, but it needn’t define who I am – or my birthday!

My very dear friend, who is on vacation this week, lovingly ‘listened’ via email (because she too asked and pretending just doesn’t work between us – even if we are out of town!!!)   I will close with her thoughts:  “So try not to let the thorn have the day AFTER your birthday too.  Happy Day After Your Birthday!”

Today’s a new day; I hope to celebrate newfound freedom from the THORN. I must remember "One day at a time" - or - "One hour at a time", whichever works best!!  However today turns out,   I know I'm being held in love and prayers - and that is cause to give thanks!

Remembering...one year later

     

Their Eyes

I look into their eyes,

and see my life.

I look into their eyes,

and  sense  the bond.

The need for love,

given and received.

Devotion to another,

unconditionally offered.

The subtle loneliness,

lurking beneath the layers.

Yearning for approval,

acceptance freely given.

The joy of closeness,

 tenderness of touch.

Safety of surrender,

in a loved one’s embrace.

The longing of the heart,

when  engulfed by separation.

Relief at the vision,

of a companion’s return.

The mourning of loss,

when eyes no longer meet.

Yet sweet remembrance

of souls connected forever.

I look into their eyes,

and see my life.

I look into their eyes,

and sense the bond.

Carol Wawrychuk

August 21, 2011

Acceptance

Today I was in a conversation with two women, each of whom is dealing with a loved one’s decline into Alzheimer’s disease.  The pain was clearly visible as they shared their stories, not only for their relative suffering from this disease, but also for the family members learning how to cope. 

Alzheimer’s is a hideous illness, ensnaring everyone in its circle.  I know all too well, as this was my mother’s battle for four years prior to her death, which was ten years ago this September.  Therefore, my mind was easily taken back to the memories of the journey mother and I walked together.  Oddly enough it did not bring sadness, but gratefulness, as I recalled the peace and joy we ultimately shared.

I wanted to give these women some small sense of hope on this daunting road in which they find themselves.  As I recalled my frustration, anger, and fear upon hearing of mother’s diagnosis, I realized the key to moving through my resistance was acceptance.  Bargaining with God (actually railing at God!), pleading with doctors for a miracle medication, wanting mother to look like her "old self" after a trip to the beauty salon, etc. – none of that helped; not me or my mother!  It wasn’t until I let go, gave in, accepted and said, “OK Lord, I guess this is the way it is and I totally give this to You, because I have no idea what to do!”  That was the beginning of peace!

Acceptance, isn’t that just the key needed for most everything?  Why do I hesitate to pick it up?  Perhaps I’m afraid of the room on the other side of the door the key unlocks.  I think there might be a few areas in my life where that acceptance key has grown rusty.  Today was a reminder, it’s time to clean it off and see what it opens!