Fasting and Feasting

Leap?

Betsy — Thu, 09 Feb 2012 01:40:11 +0000

To leap?

Or stand staring
over the precipice?

Rocks below
sharp
dangerous
able to rend and tear and destroy

Yet there amongst the rocks

A glimpse of water
swift
cool
delicious in it’s power to revive

Our Deepest Fear…

Betsy — Wed, 30 Jul 2008 17:27:30 +0000

Our deepest fear is not that we are inadequate.
Our deepest fear is that we are powerful beyond
measure. It is our light, not our darkness, that most
frightens us.

We ask ourselves, who am I to be brilliant, gorgeous,
talented and fabulous? Actually, who are you not to be?

You are a child of God.

Your playing small does not serve the world. There is
nothing enlightened about shrinking so that other people
won’t feel insecure about you. We are all meant to shine, as children do. We were born to manifest
the glory of God that is within us.

It’s not just in some of us; it’s in everyone.

And as we let our own light shine, we unconsciously give
other people permission to do the same. As we are
liberated from our own fear, our presence automatically
liberates others.

Marianne Williamson

Change and Sustainability

Betsy — Wed, 26 Mar 2008 22:39:51 +0000

As I write this I am on the porch of a cabin looking out a beautiful panoramic view of the Great Smoky Mountains in E. Tennessee. It seems like the first time in a few weeks that I’ve had both the time and inclination to reflect on what I am learning from my life and to write about that reflection. Having grown up in the shadow of the Smoky Mountains and now living in the Midwest, I am always perplexed when I visit at the changes to this area that I think of as home. Driving in to reach this cabin we passed a mountainside that has been what can only be described as ‘raped’ by unregulated building. Rather than a mountainside forested with trees and an occasional house or cabin, it is now covered with nearly identical two and three story cabins with an occasional tree. Rather than the soothing shades of green and brown one is now confronted with the jarring sight of the red clay soil of this area covering nearly the whole mountainside. The sight is a blight on the landscape that is disturbing to see because it represents both a basic disrespect for the land and a disregard for sustainable development. It is an extreme example of what has been happening in this area for years and I wonder where it will all end.

Seeing what is happening to this place I think of as home leads me to wonder at the sustainability of the life I am building for myself. Having this time to slow down and be quiet makes me more aware of just how busy and stressful life has felt in recent weeks. Our family is going through a transition as I start a new job as the director of a shelter for women and children who are victims of domestic violence in Indianapolis. This new job means I will be commuting and working daily 60 miles away from home until we are able to sell our house and move closer to my work. That change to a daily commute is a significant one but for my kids, particularly my 9 year old son, the idea of moving is very anxiety provoking. He’s been really anxious and worried about the upcoming changes. It’s going to take very intentional decision making and boundary setting on my part over the next few months to ensure that our life during this transition is sustainable for all of us. I’m going to have to be careful about how I use my time so that I have enough energy and time to help my kids (and myself) through this time of change. I don’t want to look back a year from now and see something like I saw driving in here…change that has left scars on the landscape of our lives that will take years to heal. I’d appreciate your prayers during this time of transition.

Becoming a “Locavore”

Betsy — Wed, 27 Feb 2008 04:00:27 +0000

I’m reading an interesting book right now, Animal, Vegetable, Miracle by Barbara Kingsolver, in which she chronicles her family’s year of eating only foods grown or produced in their local area of Virginia. The term “locavore” is being used to describe those who are trying to support local farmers and eat foods in season in their particular locales. In doing so, they are trying to create and promote markets for a more sustainable agricultural future. Our current food preferences in the U.S. depend upon fossil fuels to both produce and transport food over great distances. With the rising price of petroleum comes inflation which we are all feeling now not to mention the price that is exacted as we pour more carbon into the atmospere and degrade our topsoil through unsustainable farming practices.

Over the past few months we have been making some efforts to eat more locally. Last summer we bought virtually all of our produce and eggs at the local farmer’s market. We continue to buy eggs, beef, pork and some dairy produced locally but winter in the midwest is not known for an abundance of produce. As I peruse the produce department at my local grocery store and see grapes grown in Chile, Clementines from Spain, bananas from Central America and all kinds of green veggies from California I realize how accustomed I have become to having anything I want at any time at a price I can afford. But I am coming to realize that this kind of global agricultural marketplace comes at a high price to both the environment and, in many cases, to the producers of our ‘affordable’ vegetables and fruits.

I realize that if something does not change, my children will have no concept of how our food is produced and how that food production is connected to the earth and the seasons. As far as they are concerned, strawberries are endlessly available, asparagus has no particular season, tomatoes are a year round food and meat comes in shrink-wrapped plastic containers. When foods are available to us constantly, we lose any sense of the wonder and anticipation that comes from looking forward to a favorite seasonal treat or the appreciation for the cycle of life and our part in that. Nothing is special because it’s always available with a minimal expenditure of effort. When that over-familiarity occurs, we lose some sense of the wonder of God’s creation and our connection to our physical environment.

Over the next few months I’m going to be thinking and writing about what I am learning about trying to eat more locally as well as the hidden costs of the global agricultural marketplace. I’d be interested in hearing your reflections on these issues. To find information about local farmers and food producers in your area, check out localharvest.org.

Fasting from TV: Six Month Update

Betsy — Tue, 19 Feb 2008 02:08:12 +0000

It’s been six months since we cancelled our satellite TV subscription and here are a few things I’ve come to realize:

It’s a lot harder to be without TV programming when the days are short and the weather is bad.
Fasting from TV does not automatically mean that the time is filled with more enriching or productive activity .
Children who don’t watch TV require much more attention and energy to parent.
While waiting until later in life to have children has many advantages, boundless energy is not one of them.
It is both uncomfortable and rewarding to move out of our comfort zones.
It is possible to live a normal and fulfilled life without having access to 100+ channels of TV programming.
I don’t miss hearing every little detail about the day’s horrific tragedy.
I can still get plenty of news without watching TV. The only time I’ve really wanted to watch the TV news was when we had severe weather. We were able to pick up a local channel (though the reception was pretty bad).
It’s a lot cheaper to get movies from the library than from Blockbuster.
I’ve rediscovered how much I enjoy reading for pleasure.

I have to say that our fast is not a complete fast. We do watch movies and videos from the library or Netflix and I’ve even watched a few cooking shows I got at the library. What is significantly different, however, is that the TV is not available to be used 24/7 as a distraction. Anything we watch is an intentional choice (both as to the programming and the time.) I’ve certainly done more reading, writing and listening to music in the last six months and I’ve learned a lot about myself. Fasting is, in part, about exposing our dependencies and clarifying what is important. God has taught me some important lessons in the last six months and for that I am truly grateful.

Thanks be to God!

This Week’s “Thankful for My Children” Moment

Betsy — Tue, 12 Feb 2008 01:01:34 +0000

Yesterday was my birthday. I’ve never been particularly worried about getting older but this year, as I reached the 45 year mark, I was feeling melancholy about the brevity of life. Yesterday, after eating a celebratory lunch of chili dogs (my hubby took me out for a nice meal earlier in the weekend) and receiving the mandatory gift of chocolate, my 9 year old son said he had one more gift for me. Putting his arms around me he gave me a big hug and a kiss and said he loved me. I thanked him and told him that the hug and kiss was the best gift I received. “Love is always the best gift” he said. I agree. I guess if I have to be 45 (and I clearly have no choice in the matter) I’m glad that I am able to spend this year living with and learning from my children. Thanks be to God.

Rain

Betsy — Wed, 06 Feb 2008 20:30:03 +0000

It’s raining…again. We’ve had around 3 inches of rain in the last couple of days, everything is soggy and I can’t wait for spring. This is disappointing because I usually look forward to winter. I love snow. I have very warm memories of snow days at home as a child; being outside in the woods with my brothers and the dogs; walking on frozen ponds, which, in East Tennessee was taking our life in our hands since the ice never got very thick; staying out (with bread bags taped over our shoes) until we couldn’t feel our toes; coming in to hot chocolate on the stove and a jigsaw puzzle. We lived near on the edge of a woods on the side of a mountain and the back of our house was big picture windows. When it snowed it was so beautiful, almost magical. Walking in the woods in the snow is one of life’s great experiences. The snow on the trees muffles all the sound and the light glinting off the snow crystals gives everything a luminescent quality. The contrast of the white snow with the green of the spruce and pine trees and the gray of the bare hardwoods lends a simplicity restfulness to the eye that is not present in the other seasons when there is more color. I miss that experience.

The grayness of the winter here in Indiana is difficult to deal with but is normally tolerable when there is more snow. Grayness and rain and a damp cold that clings to the skin is hard to take. I find myself wanting to hibernate, feeling less creative, etc. I’m sure the presence of grief and feeling of being unsettled about the future does not help matters any. So I am left with the question of how to tolerate this season in my life as I wait for the sky to brighten and signs of new life to emerge. It occurs to me that the season of Lent, which begins today, Ash Wednesday, offers some parallel to my experience.

During the season of Lent, followers of Christ are asked to make a commitment to a period of reflection and self-examination in preparation for the observance of Holy Week and Good Friday, culminating in the celebration of Jesus’ resurrection: Easter. Lent is not a happy-happy-joy-joy stop on the calendar of the Christian year but then not all of life is that way. There are periods of darkness…rain…sorrow in all our lives. Lent is a time for looking inward and allowing God to illuminate the parts of us that need attention. It’s also a time for looking outward to allow God to help us see the needs of a hurting world. Finally, Lent is a time for looking upward for it is during these these times of darkness, rain and sorrow in our lives that we can, if we pay attention, experience God’s presence, strength, comfort and guidance in deeper and more meaningful ways.

Facing Into Life’s Sorrow

Betsy — Mon, 28 Jan 2008 02:53:25 +0000

I haven’t posted in several days and have, in fact, been trying not to think too deeply about much. I’ve been dealing with some feelings I would just as soon avoid. A few weeks ago I wrote a post following the death of our friend’s two year old son entitled “Living With Sorrow.” Now I find myself having to revisit that post and remind myself of what I wrote there about how to live with the grief that life brings. Last week a dear friend of ours came home from the hospital after being transferred into the care of hospice. He had been battling cancer for a few months and the treatments set off a terrible chain of events in his body; the end result of which is that his lungs were so badly damaged that he could not recover. Tonight, surrounded by his family, he died.

Tomorrow I will have to tell my nine year old son, Ben, who has been praying for him every night and worrying about him. He’s trying to understand why he can’t be healed – why the doctors can’t just fix his lungs. He’s trying, again, to comes to terms with our mortality; with the fact that life is a mixture of sorrow and joy and that when we allow ourselves to love another person we open ourself to the possibility of loss. I wish I could protect him and myself from the grief that life brings but I know that protection of that sort comes with a high price. If we can’t allow sadness in our lives we sacrifice opportunities for joy.

So, instead of protecting him from the sadness, I’m going to allow him, and myself, to grieve. In the process, I’m sure there will come a point at which the tears give way to laughter as we remember the good times, the laughter, the joy. We’ll give thanks together for the blessing of such a friend. I would appreciate your prayers.

Enraptured

Betsy — Tue, 15 Jan 2008 02:42:22 +0000

As I worked I watched you…

spinning,

swaying,

enraptured by the music

and the moment

and the joy of being six

and alive:

free to dream the dreams of what might come.

As I worked I watched you

and listened…

remembering a moment on a mountaintop,

the wind on my face,

my dog along side:

immersed in the music of life.

Sweetness.

Joy.

Peace.

Hope.

Enraptured

“The Talk”

Betsy — Fri, 04 Jan 2008 04:24:36 +0000

I knew it was coming…there had been hints and questions that had been skirted but it was out there…lurking…the talk. You know the one I’m referring to…the one every parent knows is inevitable but hopes to postpone as long as possible…the “how does the baby get in the mommy’s tummy?” talk.

It started with my nine year old son a few days before Christmas when we had to have a discussion about our dog’s occasional mounting, a.k.a., humping, behavior. We talked about his trying to establish dominance but ultimately I explained the mechanics of canine reproduction which my son found “gross.” A couple of days after that, my daughter became upset after watching “The Nativity” which portrays Elizabeth giving birth to John in a pretty realistic way. She was upset to know that it hurts to have a baby and said she never wanted to have one. Here’s a snippet of our conversation with Julia’s words in italics.

I never want to have a baby. You don’t have to honey, you can choose not to. I don’t want to have a baby inside me. Julia, no one will make you…there are ways to make sure you won’t have a baby. You can choose. But Mary didn’t get to choose…God made her have a baby. What if God makes me have a baby?.

She’s a thinker. I answered as best I could saying that Mary was a special person and that I felt sure that would not happen to her but clearly I did not put the question to rest. I know this because on the way home this evening she again became upset and said that she was afraid of having a baby and that she never wanted to have a baby, in fact, she wished she was a boy so that she would not have to have a baby. I again tried to reassure her. The conversation, as best I can remember, is recorded below.

Me: Honey, don’t worry. You can choose. There are ways you can make sure you don’t have a baby.

Julia: But I’ve already got the eggs in me, remember? You said that girls have eggs.

Me: Yes, you do have eggs but the egg won’t make a baby unless you get a sperm from a boy.

Julia: What’s a sperm?

Benjamin: Boys have sperm? I thought only boy dogs had sperm.

Me: Yes, boys have sperm and the sperm has to join with the egg to make a baby.

Ben: So how does the sperm get inside the girl to the egg?

Me: (Feeling like a deer in the headlights but taking a deep breath and speaking matter-of-factly) The boy puts his penis in the girl’s vagina and the sperm comes out of his penis and finds the egg.

Ben: That’s gross!!!!

Julia: I’m never going to do that!!!

Ben: …pause…Is that what you and dad did?

Me: (Oooooo….should have seen that one coming…GULP) That’s what all people do to have a baby, honey, so……., yes.

Ben: …..(long pause)….That must have been painful for you.

Me: (trying not to laugh) No, it’s not painful. That’s what people are talking about when they talk about sex.

Ben: Ohhhhh…now I get it!

Julia: I’m never going to do that!

Me: And if you never do that you will never have a baby.

And that was pretty much the end of the discussion.

It occurs to me that we have come a long way from my grandmother’s days when sex was not mentioned, much less explained and women (and perhaps men though I’ve never heard a man of my grandparent’s generation talk of this) often went into their marital beds fearfully or in complete ignorance about sex and reproduction. At the same time, I’m aware that while we in 21st century western cultures can talk easily about such matters and have so much information about reproduction and sex, many of our sisters around the globe are denied such freedoms.

I’m glad I can talk to my children about their bodies and the way their bodies work without feeling ashamed and passing that shame on to them. God created us as physical beings as well as spiritual and emotional beings and what God has created is good and beautiful and nothing to be ashamed of. Certainly as my kids get older I will talk to them about sexual intercourse as more than a physical act and teach them about the spiritual, emotional and psychological ramifications of that kind of intimacy but today they just wanted to know how the baby gets in the mommy’s tummy. Perhaps that is an easier conversation than the ones we will have later. For now, I’m thankful to be living in a time in the history of humanity and in a culture in which my daughter will have the choice as to whether or not to have a baby. I’m glad that we are living in an era that allows such open (if not completely comfortable) communication about such matters. I’m thankful.

Creator, Sustainer, Redeemer,

Thank you for the challenge of parenting, for my children, for choices, for life. Help us to be mindful of the blessings of our lives and mindful of our brothers and sisters whose lives are not blessed with the freedoms and privileges we enjoy. Be the companion to those women who have no choices as you help us to see them and hear their cries and respond with mercy as we work for justice.

Oh Lord, hear our prayer.