Thanksgiving: The Usual Suspects

The routine tracks of my Thanksgiving reflection take me back to familiar places and people on this day set aside for it. That is as it should be, I think. The usual suspects, because they are usual, are all too often taken for granted – not forgotten, exactly, just not remembered with deliberation. And that, too, is probably as it should be.

Some, long since gone, are so woven into the fabric of my life that it is sometimes hard to know where I stop and they begin – which thoughts mine, which theirs. Coming over the distance of years, their voices are crystal clear, forming the soundtrack of my inner life, blending into a symphony of meaning. Still others have been the mirror in which I have known myself – and like a mirror, have all but disappeared into purpose.

Grateful for colleagues at the various places I work, whose ideas challenge and change the way I think, or who ask just the right question at the right time – beginning a new adventure. Laughter weaves its way through conversations, giving them an effervesence, a liveliness that is deeply refreshing. Working with people who care so much about what we do together challenges me, humbles me, encourages me.

And for those, closer still, knowing best – forgiving most – holding lightly, but closely. Sharing the messy, chaotic journey through the ebbs and flows of becoming, as much part of me as I am of myself – maybe more. Just thinking around the table gives pause for unspeakable gratitute. Each one, themselves. What gifts of grace – laughter, listening, hearing unspoken connections of understanding over time, sentences finished without words, worlds of meaning in a raised eyebrow, a half-smile, depth in shared stillness.

Then, unfashionably perhaps, but looking into the mirror – seeing who is there, as aware as ever of faults and failings – still, thankful for the gift of my life – of me. To do less would be to undermine the thanksgiving for those above who have helped me become – and will, until done.

And, most of all, for Him in Whom all thanksgiving – indeed, all life – is made possible. Enabling wholeness through the wonder of giving thanks – inviting me into His own life, bringing what I am, finding place at the Table.

Thanks be to God.

Alignment

Does love

     obey?

          And – if it does –

          is it love that obeys

               or proof of love

               or wish for love

         

It sounds so

     hard

     so

          un-love ly

Perhaps the problem

     is not with love

Obey is

     for us

          a four letter word

     implying things

     by our resistance

     to it

          orders

          commands

But what if

     love is about

     alignment

          obedience by

          another name

What if

     hearing the

     heart of the lover

     the loved seeks

          nothing more

          nothing less

          nothing else

         

     wanting only

     what love wants

Love doesn’t

     coerce

     manipulate

     control

     order

its power is greater than that

Places where not much happens

We need places where not much happens – to remind us that most of life is not about things happening – not about grand adventures – not about exciting things one after the other. We need places where not much happens to let us enjoy by reflection – to let us just be. To let us just know.

We need places where not much happens – so we can watch the clouds move lazily across a deep blue sky to the gentle rhythm of the upper atmosphere – so we can watch the haphazard flight of a hummingbird flitting from flower to flower, its wings a blur, its head by turns shining azure, red, emerald in the afternoon sun – so we can watch a caterpillar trundle its slow way across a sun baked patio, almost run over by a tiny lizard racing to stand stock still for no discernable reason.

We need places where not much happens – to sit, coffee in hand, with good friends talking about nothing and everything, listening to the familiar cadences of loved voices, hearing the laughter behind the gentle teasing, the music of a long friendship made in places like this, for times like this.

We need places where not much happens – to think deeply about things that matter and things that don’t matter, in no particular order – to enjoy considering the wonder of grace and forgiveness and mercy and unspeakable sacrifice that makes places where not much happens possible and necessary, so great is the overwhelm of love in action.

We need places where not much happens – to let the heat of a painful conversation seep into the bedrock of commitment that makes such conversations possible, and necessary – to allow space and time for healing the wounds caused by words spoken harshly, too quickly, fueled by defensive anger – to let spoken and unspoken forgiveness reshape and heal the brokenness that comes from risking love – to know that we wouldn’t have it any other way, for this is what it means to be human and in relationship with others like us.

We need places where not much happens – to rest in the deep love of One Who knows completely, but still loves profoundly and Whose love makes all other loves possible – to let soak in the soul shaping reality of we are in Him – to be awash in gratitude, in thanksgiving which has no words and for which words are many, some spoken.

We need places where not much happens.

Who's In Charge Here?

I am not sure who is in charge of these kinds of things, but it seems to me that, having now passed the date of the Autumnal Equinox and being fully into the season called “fall,” the temperature in my neck of the woods (this is fantasy – there are no woods to speak of where I live) should not be hovering around the 100° mark! Something is clearly off somewhere – and I’d like someone to take care of it as soon as possible. Autumn – or Fall, if you prefer – should be a season of crisply cold mornings, bright clear blue sky-ed afternoons, and brilliantly starred evenings. Instead, we get summer redux. What is going on here! And before you suggest global warming as the culprit, I am talking about weather – and that is climate.

Having lived here for more than half my life I should be used to the first few weeks of September being more summery than summer usually is – at least as far as temperature is concerned. Just in time for the kids to head off to sit in classrooms for hours at a time, the temperature soars to annual highs, straining the air conditioning and, now, the electrical grid! Happens year after year. But I complain every time. While I am not a citizen, I am a taxpayer, and that entitles me. And what I have gotten for all my complaining? Nothing. Nada. Zilch. And now, here we are again!!

I have been suspecting this for some time, but this confirms it. Apparently, I am not in charge of the weather. It joins a growing list of other things I have no responsibility for. Not only that – whoever is in charge of the weather (and that growing list of other things I mentioned) is not taking my calls, nor responding to my texts. Not only am I not in charge, I have absolutely no say in the many matters under consideration. This is disconcerting. And extremely disappointing. It is becoming clearer and clearer that the sphere of my authority over things I want to have authority over is much smaller than I had hoped. Much smaller. As in, non-existent.

As it turns out, about all I have authority over is how I respond to the growing list of things I don’t have authority over. This clearly can’t be the way it is supposed to be! Surely, the benefit of having me in charge is obvious to all. In fact, as soon as I get my own things in order, I’ll see what can be done about that speck I see in your eye. Until then, I’ll try not to hit you with this beam. Not sure who is in charge of it, but I aim to find out!

Nothing New

Sitting deeply to

     mystery

     love that simply

          is.

Not ebbing and

     flowing with

     my ebbing and

     flowing…

Not waiting and

     watching for

     reason or

     excuse…

Not depending on or

     deciphering my

     hints my

     hopes my

     help…

Just there.

I drift in and out

     disqualified by

     choice by

     shame by

     fear…

But love

     remains.

Not surprised

     not scandalized

     not shocked…

Just there.

Bearing all

     believing all

          hoping all

               enduring all.

Never changing.

     Never failing.

          Never fading.

Nothing new.

              

     

I've Been Thinking...

I have taken a couple of months off from writing. It was more accident than intention – busy-ness collided with overwhelm to result in a kind of free floating randomness to the summer. Not altogether a bad thing. But not conducive to the regular posting I had hoped for. Part of the problem, at least as I rationalize it in the rear-view mirror, was the piling on of things about which I wanted to write – but wasn’t quite sure what I thought. I am trying to let the writing follow the thinking – not always with complete success – but that means thinking faster when life happens faster. And life has been moving pretty fast this summer! So, herewith, a couple of random things I’ve been thinking…

It is somewhat surprising to me that a man as smart and as politically savvy as Dan Cathy was not a bit more circumspect in his statements in response to the questions of an interviewer from a small Christian radio station. Surely he knows the ubiquity of words once spoken in the highly politicized, media rich environment he does business and lives in. Don’t get me wrong – he has the right to his opinions, and the right to speak those opinions. But he does not have the right – nor do his supporters – to be surprised when those opposed to his views make use of the very same right to speak and act in opposition! It seems to me that the issue in question – and I’m not talking chikin – is clearly known to be so polarizing, that any statement from either side needs to be carefully considered. If the desire is to effect the outcome, it is probably not going to be by making public statements. There is, at least it seems to me, little chance of a controlled burn in the tinder-dry context of this matter. It is time for the exercise of responsibility, not just rights. And, perhaps, for relationship before either.

In other news – nothing new. I am learning nothing of the positions of either candidate for the presidency – except that the other guy would be a disaster for the country, the world, and the universe. Whoever the other guy is. It is sad that, in an age of almost universal media coverage that could be used for so much helpful analysis of real differences, we are being fed – by the campaigns and their mainstream and cable media outlets – sound bites of terror, caricatures of opposing positions, to say nothing of distortions and outright lies made all the more egregious because it is all fueled by virtually unregulated SuperPACs with their own agendas, not always visible or understood. Is this really the best we can do? Really? If so, the future of  public political discourse – whoever wins – is not promising. We can save ourselves a lot of time and money by just writing tomorrow’s headlines today. “President A says “X.” Opposition leader B says “Not X.” It leads to the political mathematics of nullification. If A=X and B=-X then A+B=0.

I was grateful for the decision by both campaigns to at least suspend their campaigning in the wake of the “Dark Night” shootings in Aurora earlier this summer – although, cynic that I am about most things political during this silly season, I’m sure the political ramifications of doing so occasioned more than a single conversation and not a little heated debate, including discussions on how it might be spun for political advantage. Everytime I hear about shootings of this kind (they are becoming common enough that the plural is justified), I find myself wondering when we might at least be able to talk about limiting access to the weapons that enable such devastation to only those who have a demonstrated need for them. Surely the founders did not have this in mind when they codified the right of individuals not in the military to keep weapons for the purpose of self-defense. This, of course, made sense in a time when random invading armies and personal militias had little regard for borders. And if we can’t yet talk about some kind of gun control, can we at least talk about ammunition control? How can it be a good thing for the common good that massive amounts of single-purpose ammunition is available for purchase over the internet? It is probably just me, but I am thinking that anyone who really needs these kinds of bullets is probably not going to be ordering them on internet!

Still on Aurora, I salute the men and women whose stories of self-sacrificing bravery are still emerging. That kind of instant, almost instinctive courage – bravery, even – in the face of what must have felt like certain death gives me a sense of hope for my fellow human beings. There are those of us who would lay down their lives for friends, family – even strangers. There is still something of Image in us.

Anyway, it might have been better to let these thinkings fade with the summer heat. But, where’s the fun in that? Hopefully, I have exercised my right to be wrong in a responsible manner.