Rising up to say thank you

Later this week we will take a moment to say thank you. How that happens is different in each family's tradition - but usually, somehow, in some way, we do pause before diving into a turkey feast to recognize that we have lots of reasons to say give thanks. I have lots of things for which to be grateful, a good job that I love, a caring family, many supportive friends, a house that keeps me warm and dry, lots of yummy local food - really my life is blessed.

I took some time to think, meditate, pray recently when I had the opportunity to take an art class making a mandala. This artistic way of praying/meditating involves circles and has been used in various spiritual traditions. It is sort of like the recent study that says you can indeed learn (in fact maybe learn better) if you doodle while you listen. The idea is if you are praying while your hands and a part of your mind is busy, you may have a different/deeper expression of prayer.

The class was taught by a totally stereotypical Eugene hippie - she was very encouraging of each of us, which was appreciated by those of us for whom the idea of painting something was a bit intimidating. We focused on the season of autumn, and she had each of us draw a card with an amimal symbol on it. I drew the phoenix - on the back of the card it said that the phoenix, "reminds us that when we fully accept the fire of pain, we transmute what is no longer needed and become more whole/healed." As the teacher guided us through our artwork we were to contemplate what meaning this symbol might have for us. As a Christian the phoenix, a bird that will not die, but instead rises from the ashes, AND the season of autumn, when the whole earth seems to be aflame and heading toward the "death" and darkness of winter before the new birth of spring - all of this has obvious metaphorical overlap with the central story of our faith.

And for me personally, the idea of accepting pain as part of life in order to find wholeness resonates. Yes pain is a part of the story, death is a part of the story, but they are not the end of the story. Life wins. The flames don't kill the phoenix, the winter can't hold back the spring, the tomb is empty.

Working on this project I had the chance to contemplate what it was that needs to die within me, in my work, my life, what has taken more time than it deserves - so that something else - something worthy, something life-giving - can rise up and fly. It was such a gift, this gift of time, focus, listening. Now my mandala of the phoenix and the leaves is in my home, reminding me to take the time to think about what it is I need to mourn, what I need to welcome, and most of all to remember the many things for which I am grateful. My prayer is that all of us will take time to truly give thanks for our many blessings this holiday week.

meltdowns

I have a two-year-old niece (who by the way I believe to be just about as close to perfect as a person can be). This is one of those pictures she may resent me having someday, as it was taken when she was throwing a fit about something while the rest of us tried not to laugh at the pitiful face and big, crocodile tears of what was either a plea for what felt like a big injustice OR was actually a last ditch effort to get some attention before breakfast was over! The thing of it is, that while it is hard for me to keep a straight face when our newest little drama queen turns on the waterworks because she has to do something completely UNFAIR like, you know, NOT throw things in a restaurant (seriously, how does my sister keep from laughing out loud when she gets the puppy dog eye treatment from her?), often I really do empathize with the two-year-old.

Sometimes life just doesn't seem fair. And the most logical reaction to that realization and frustration is to curl out your bottom lip, stamp your feet and have a good cry. Yes, I know we are supposed to be all grown up and MATURE when faced with the day to day things that add up to a less than ideal world. But don't you sometimes just wanna forget about being logical or sensible; don't you just wanna get mad for a little bit; don't you just wanna throw a tantrum and melt down? Sometimes I sure do. And the thing of it is, though we are told that crying won't change anything, it does. After I let myself have a good cry I'm usually tired, but it also cleans me out in some good ways. Those tears help get rid of a little bit of the annoyance, the frustration, the feeling that its all just SO unfair. And I can see things more clearly. Sorta like the way the world looks all sparkly after a rain shower.

So here's to meltdowns, and temper tantrums, and having a good cry. And here's to fresh starts!

Falling . . .

Autumn feels more like the new year to me than January. The start of the school year, most churches are gearing up their outreach and educational programs, there is change all around. Seems like the crisp air and turning leaves give us all the permission to try something different - to let our own true colors shine through. As our thoughts turn toward getting serious about classes, or projects, toward preparing for holidays with those we love, towards curling up with a bowl of soup or a cup of tea, towards a season that feels like it is time to re-evaluate, look inward and move forward - the leaves give me hope that whatever it is this season brings it will be awash in color. I couldn't resist taking these pictures around campus this week. Happy Fall y'all!

already, not yet

The beginning of this school year feels a bit like this sign -I'm not always sure which way things are heading. Make no mistake, I love what I do - I get to walk alongside young adults who are trying to figure out a lot of stuff. Things like what they want to study, who they want to date, what they believe about God. It is an honor and privilege to be allowed to participate in those conversations, to listen as some big questions are asked. But there are some tricky parts about ministry at a university. For one thing, people are ALWAYS coming and going. There is the normal, expected graduation of many - usually those who have become over time the group's leaders. There are the students who drop out of the campus ministry group for awhile because their class schedule is particularly grueling or they have to take on another job. There are those who decide they fit in better with a different group of folks. There are those who transfer to a different school. There are those who decide college is not for them. On the flip side, there are lots of folks who don't start looking for a ministry group till they have been in school for a year or two or four. It makes for an interesting dynamic. I recently learned that you need 17 hours of time with a group for them to develop "group-ness". They don't have to be continuous, but it does have to be the exact same people - so anytime someone leaves or someone new joins you are back at hour number one. Seventeen hours . . that is next to impossible in this context. So we already have a group, but they are not yet a group.

I feel like I am coming and going a bit these days as well. We are looking into ways we can become more sustainable for the long term - so in addition to the everyday, much of my time has been focused on a project that won't really begin to affect us until 2011 or 2012. So I'm working with today's students while spending lots of time dreaming about what this ministry could be to students who haven't even taken their SATs yet! The already and the not yet are struggling for my attention.

So how do you stay fully present to the people who are here now while looking forward? How do you foster community and group cohesiveness when you are never working with the same group twice?

Use of Space

This picture, believe it or not, is on a golf course. It is located on a small island off the coast of Scotland where the fairway is also public grazing land and a place for the community to gather. I have to admit I have never been interested in learning to play golf, but the day I was here I kinda wished I could play a round with the cows! Being there made me think a bit about how choices communities make. What do we share and what do we gate? The idea that this lovely piece of property, with views of the ocean, rocky beaches and caves that spout sea water wasn't seen as prime land to develop, but rather a common ground, a place to raise livestock, have fun together and enjoy the beauty of the place. The concept that instead of deciding between open grazing and a golf course they opted for both. It means that anyone and everyone (including the cows and sheep) are let in - there is a gate, but it isn't gated in the way many golf courses in our country are. Just a fence to keep the animals (and the visitors) from wandering into dangerous territory, and a gate with a small sign requesting that you close it behind you. Yes the consequence of all that sharing is that you have to watch your step, but it also means the grass is always mowed and everyone gets to enjoy the view.

Serendipity

I love when good things happen that you could never have predicted. Big crazy things like falling in love, yes, but also little things that make your day or your week a little sillier, a little happier. One of the things I get to do is answer a statewide food preservation and safety hotline, along with LOTS of other volunteers. We all took a class through our state extension service and this is a way to serve others using the knowledge we gained. That class was a blast and I learned lots. But the people I continue to meet as a result of it - that is the bonus no one tells you about! I meet all sorts of fun people who are a part of the program (that is how I got to can tuna last week). But it also opens other surprising doors. Usually time on the hotline is spent sharing recipes, techniques, etc. Sometimes it is a matter of life or death (no you shouldn't eat food that has other lifeforms growing on it - I don't care if you did put it up yourself!) This week I answered a call from someone who wanted ideas about how to preserve and/or cook with figs. Seems she bought her daughter-in-law a fig tree some years back and it has a bumper crop this year. So they have presented her with several pounds of these little gems. We talked about drying them, making jam, etc. and I also said (being the cheeky gal I am), "Well, I'd be happy to eat some of them for you!"

Honestly, I was just kidding. But before I knew it she was getting my name and calling her daughter-in-law and when my shift on the hotline was done, I had an appointment to pick some figs. Now, you need to know I love figs. My grandmother had a big old fig tree and we used to have access to figs or fig jam year round. It wasn't until I was an adult and went looking for them in the store that I realized what an expensive little habit they can be! They are usually more than $1 apiece! Ouch! So I sometimes treat myself to one little box of them each year. I savor them and wish for a fig tree.

Well not this year! I hauled myself to the arranged meeting place, introduced myself to the lady of the house and she encouraged me to take as many as I could carry home in the boxes I had in the car.

I picked more than 20 pounds in about 15 minutes. There were SOOOOOO many of them that I hardly made a dent in the crop!

I had figs to snack on aplenty, and enough to do some fun things, too! I did share some with friends, but I also made some jam . . .

So now I have a dozen amber jars of yumminess to enjoy.

I am drying some even as we speak s

o that I can put

them in my oatmeal, or a port wine sauce for pork this winter . . . .

And at the recommendation of a friend I took some figs, stuffed them with blue cheese (Oregonzola from the Rogue creamery), wrapped them in pancetta, put a few drops of olive oil on top of the whole thing and roasted them. WOW! They were amazing. I served them with a salad of fresh greens and grated beets from my CSA along with a fig balsamic vinaigrette and some toasted pine nuts. What a feast!

When I left to answer the phone that afternoon, I never guessed I'd be remembering picking figs at my grandmothers, or enjoying a meal fit for a queen that night! Plus I met a really nice lady and her daughter in law - days like that just make me smile!

Fishin"

There was a time in my life when I really thought I didn't like fish. Mostly because the only fish usually available to a kid growing up in Texas was fried catfish - which, to my family's dismay, I still don't enjoy. But then I discovered all sorts of other kinds of fish - salmon, swordfish, tuna - and other ways to eat it - sushi, grilled, fish tacos! A whole world of seafood opened up to me. And just when I thought I couldn't appreciate it anymore I moved to the Pacific Northwest where fresh seafood abounds and where people do all sorts of cool stuff. Who knew you could smoke or can your own fish?!? Home-canned tuna is amazing. It is quite a process, but a friend of mine from the master food preserver class I took through our home extension office kindly hosts tuna canning days at her home each summer. This was the first year I could make it - and what a day! I am so excited to have all those little jars of yummy fish in my pantry to enjoy all winter long! Plus, we got to spend a day learning not only about canning fish, but about one another. I will remember those folks each time I open one of these precious little cans and enjoy locally caught, low mercury, super-yummy tuna!