Terrapin Station

Ignatian Prayer Adventure Day 10

These are the five steps of the Examen:

1. Pray for God’s help.
2. Give thanks for the gifts of this day.
3. Pray over significant feelings.
4. Rejoice and seek forgiveness.
5. Look to tomorrow.

Pray over Significant Feelings

In the third step of the Examen we look at our feelings. Ignatius believed that God communicates with us not only through mental insight but also through our “interior movements,” as he called them: our feelings, emotions, desires, attractions, repulsions, and moods. Feelings are neither positive nor negative: it is what you do with them that raises moral questions.

The Grace I Seek

I pray for the following graces: wonder at God’s ongoing creation; gratitude for the gift of God creating me and creating the world.

Aggravated as crap.  That's how I felt, partly, today.  There were several little things that came across like digs or slaps, and for some reason I was very ready to take them as such.  Paranoid much?  I found myself wishing there were something to eat in my office (yeah, that'd fix it!). 

Grateful for having started this exercise in the morning, and thus the reminder that I can step back and look at these feelings later in the day. 

Grateful for the resulting awareness, and the plan I've made to take the dogs for a walk once I get home. 

Grateful for the sunshine today, after a grey few days.  I put a prism in my window several days ago, and the rainbows are showing up around the room as the sun moves.  It's a delight.

Ignatian Prayer Adventure Day 8

I will lift up mine eyes unto the hills, from whence cometh my help

This week's work is on the Ignatian Examen. 

These are the five steps of the Examen:

1. Pray for God’s help.
2. Give thanks for the gifts of this day.
3. Pray over significant feelings.
4. Rejoice and seek forgiveness.
5. Look to tomorrow.

The Grace I Seek

I pray for the following graces: wonder at God’s ongoing creation; gratitude for the gift of God creating me and creating the world.

Read Psalm 121.
Pray the psalm slowly. Open your heart to God. Consider: What is God like? How can God help me?

God is soaring.  God is like the mountains.  God is unchanging.  The words of the psalm resound for me in so many ways...the first lines, from a poster I had on my wall as a teenager; the sixth verse, from the King James:  "The sun shall not smite thee by day, nor the moon by night" gives the title to one of Madeleine L'Engle's best books (The Moon by Night). 

I think the thing that grasps me most here is vs 7-8:  "The Lord shall preserve thee from all evil: he shall preserve thy soul/The LORD shall preserve thy going out and thy coming in from this time forth, and even forevermore." 

HE SHALL PRESERVE THY SOUL.  God doesn't promise that we won't be hurt, or broken hearted, or even killed.  But God will preserve our souls. 

That is a big promise, and yet not exactly what I want.  I would prefer that 'preserving me from all evil'  mean ... that!  I don't want it to include cancer, or worries over aging parents, or the world in a hell of a mess.  But God is not magic, and God does not promise all roses. 

My family's dealings with cancer treatment over the past year have been our hardest thing, so far. 

My friend Robin wrote a few days ago about how having treatment for breast cancer recently has been difficult for her, not so much because of that situation and the things that surround it, but because most in the breast cancer community are, with their diagnosis, facing the hardest battle in their lives.  And Robin is and was not, because Robin's precious son Josh died by suicide in 2008. And breast cancer cannot approach that. 

I pray for God's help for Robin and others who are facing their hardest thing ever, that they will know that their souls will be preserved. 

And for all of us, walking in our paths singing songs of ascent...that we may take comfort in the knowledge that, no matter what, happens, we will never be left alone.  No matter how alone we may feel.  "The LORD is thy keeper; the LORD is thy shade upon thy right hand."

 

 

 

Alleluia in Lent

The first time I did it, I was 26. 

I was in Boston for a training session, and prior to the first event, I had some wandering time to myself.  It was Ash Wednesday, so I looked up the Episcopal cathedral and went for service. 

It was the first time I saw a female priest (!!! and that's a whole 'nother story!!!).  And it was the first time I really HEARD the Gospel from the Ash Wednesday liturgy. 

It's, like, crazy, man!  It says "do one thing," (wash your face, smile, don't complain)  and then the liturgy leads us to completely do another (get ashes on your face and walk around with them on you all day long).  WHAT!?

So I got my ashes, and I rode the train back to my hotel, thinking about that paradox, and noticing that I seemed to fit right in, in Catholic Boston; more people had ashes than didn't.  In my hotel room, I met my roommate and we watched TV news together.  The Gulf War was on and that night SCUD missiles were falling in Israel.  I learned that she was Jewish. 

Before we left for the opening reception, I washed off my forehead ashes.  My roommate hadn't remarked on them before, but she said, "I thought you were supposed to leave those on!"  I said, "I don't think there's really a rule about it." 

There's not.  And ever since then, I've washed away those ashes as soon as possible after I've received them.  It's important to me to get them, and to remember my mortality and that of those I love, and those I DON'T love, and everyone in the world.  To participate with my faith community in that liturgy.  And then, it's time to move on. 

The whole Ash Wednesday liturgy is a church history thing...not a Jesus thing.  It's a tradition, a practice.  Nowhere in the Bible does it say to do the things we do.  That doesn't mean they are bad; but it does mean we might want to look at them with new eyes to see how they really work for us.  In my tradition, we "bury the Alleluias" and do not use the word during Lent.  And mercy, does THAT sometimes get to be silly.  If it's accidentally uttered, oh no!  such comment!  We refer to it as "the a-word."  Oy. 

 

I don't "give up" things for Lent anymore, either.  It ends up not meaning much to me besides a contest of wills, which becomes an obsession.  I know that I can have the strongest will in the world; it's a way of showing off to myself.  But that doesn't get me any closer to Jesus. (My friend Songbird wrote a great homily from which I borrow the "show-off" language.) 

 Yesterday I posted a link about a positive way of looking at Lent.  And that really "hit me where I live" later,  in reading  my friend Kirstin's latest blog post.  Kirstin has metastatic melanoma.  She's been living (and I mean LIVING) with this disease for three years now and blogging her journey. She writes, for Ash Wednesday: 

I need to claim Easter now, because I have no idea if I’ll be here on the liturgical date. My hope is in the Resurrection; I’ll be damned if I’m putting that off for six weeks because the church tells me it’s time to. I’m with the Orthodox; why are we ever proscribed from praising? God’s nature does not change because of our season. 

What am I doing for Lent? Saying alleluia and living in the moment. Seizing the joys that I can find. Looking for perfect nows. Spending time with friends. Being alive and awake in love.

And I say, with Kristin and for Kristin, and for all of us in the world and our fears and pains and hopes:   Even at the grave we make our song:  Alleluia, alleluia, alleluia.

Lenty

So, I'm sporting a new blogskin for Lent. 

It has flowers in it, because my world really does have flowers right now.  (To which I seem to be more allergic each year, bah.)   I saw a flock of robins on my walk to work today...really, a flock!  at least ten that I could count.  There's no denying the springing forth of the earth in my north Texas town. 

At the same time, the blogskin is lavender, the color of penitence.  I have entered into a personal time of ashes in an important relationship, and I am oddly grateful that the liturgical year has graciously followed along with me. Without saying more about this personal situation, I crave your prayers. 

 

(this is your optimist's look at Lent, thanks to the Church of England.  You can find the LLLL campaign on Facebook).  It follows gorgeously with my local parish's Jr. Daughters of the King Lenten project on Random Acts of Kindness during Lent. 

I'm not sure how things will look at the end of Lent.  I guess that is the point of it: that we don't know, we have to walk through the days, but at the very foundation of it we do know that there will be resurrection. 

(or, as Dietrich Bonhoeffer put it):  Lord Jesus, only you know where my path will lead, but I trust that, even if I do not know either the way or the destination, you are with me and before me, and I follow you with joy.

 

A great day

Grateful at this, the end of an excellent day. 

Good and engaging work, lots accomplished. 

Warm home at lunch with spouse and dogs who were glad to see me (though spouse did not jump up and turn in circles, I could still tell).

Lenten Program this year is a simple meal plus a variety of types of things.  Tonight's was a sing-a-long.  I grew up doing that and it's been a very long time since I got to.  We had two acoustic guitars and a bass and we sang...

As I Went Down in the River to Pray

Let it Be

Pass it On

Teach Your Children Well

Turn, Turn, Turn

and many others.

While this was probably not everyone's idea of a great time, I don't think they could have found a program I liked better. 

Deacon Freda Marie led us in Compline and it was a great day. 

Friday Five on Monday: Lent?

1. Did you give up, or take on, anything special for Lent this year?

I gave up Lent for Lent.  I needed some time away from the doctrines and dogmas that I think had become idols, blocking the path of my spiritual life.  I have been reading widely and exploring other Christian expression.

2. Have you been able to stay with your original plans, or has life gotten in the way?

Yes, I think so.  Although I didn't really have a plan...it was more of an anti-plan.

3. Has God had any surprising blessings for you during this Lent?

Finding friends who have walked this same path, though I would not have guessed it.  Support for this exploration. 

4. What is on your inner and/or outer agenda for the remainder of Lent and Holy Week?

Keep on with it.  Don't allow it to consume the rest of what I need to be doing. 

5. Where do you most long to see resurrection, in your life and/or in the world, this Easter?

I hope to feel at home again, or find where that is. 

Stations of the Cross...Varieties of Experience?

Here's the thing about the Stations of the Cross:  I don't like them.  At least not right now - at least not the way they are done at my church.  Or maybe I just don't like them at all, but I've never seen them done anywhere else....

Let me 'splain:  I was raised Episcopalian, as I am now, but in a very "Low Church" (or "Protestant") tradition.  We had no Stations, we had no crucifixes, no Mary statues or altars (horrors!), no monstrance, no incense/thurible/chanting/censing the altar and the congregation.  Most people in my first several churches didn't even cross themselves, much less genuflect every time the name of Christ was mentioned.  

So then I moved to a much more "High Church" (or "Catholic") diocese in my mid-30's, and all the things listed above are a regular part of our worship experience.  Early on I told someone, "I keep waiting for them to sacrifice a chicken on the altar!"  Sorry if that seems irreverent, but really, I was often bemused.  Especially at first.

I have come to love and appreciate the rituals of the higher church experience; at least most of them.   But Stations of the Cross?  Not so much. 

  (I do love and appreciate our Station icons, beautiful work by dear friends.  Here is Station 12:  Jesus Dies on The Cross.)

I recently encountered a relatively new RevGal who is an Episcopal priest and said that she found her service of Stations at her new parish to be somewhat dry, and wondered what other people might have to suggest or offer.  I could only tell her that I agreed with her about our Stations liturgy (in fact I think we are using the same one!  See our Virtual Stations here).  Being a prayerbook people, in a diocese where alternative liturgy is not often used, it hadn't occurred to me to wonder how else that would be done.  And it made me wonder what some of the rest of you may have experienced. 

Do you walk the Stations?  How does it work...what sort of liturgy do you use?  Do you have any suggestions for resources that you can share with me and my friend? 

Many blessings and thanks! 

Lent?

Some holidays seem the same every year.  Some things that you EXPECT to be the same every year, end up changing, and what a surprise. 

For instance, Christmas.  When you are a kid, it's all magic and it's all about you.  As you grow up, you learn more about the spiritual aspects and have more responsibility in church and for gifts. 

The first year my sister was married and our Christmas morning of four was a Christmas morning of 3, was hard for my parents and me. 

When you become a parent, it explodes!  So much to do. 

I remember one year, one of the first after Ken and I were married and Brandon was 9.  Foolishly, we left the assembly of the motorized scooter (skateboard?-  I forget) until after he went to bed that night.  Ken knows machines and motors inside out, and he had no question that he would easily accomplish the assembly.  Yes, no problem...except it WOULD NOT START.  It was 2 am and we had a non-working major gift!  He resolved it, but oh how stressful until he did. 

Now that Brandon is out of the house our Christmas giving observances are quite different - church - a visit to my folks sometime during the holidays - and we usually celebrate with The Kiddo in the afternoon, the day before or the day after.

While those transitions can be difficult, they follow life cycles.  You see them happening with others.  They make sense. 

So, Lent.  I grew up observing it in a very low-church Episcopal congregation, and now follow it in an Anglo-Catholic body, so it has has meant different things to me over the various years...and this year is going to mean something entirely different.  I'm not sure what that is.  What I do know is that my head is in a completely different place, so it can't be the same. 

I will be attending the Monday Night Lenten Dinners at church, with a simple meal and playlets put on by our members from the Friends of the Groom oeuvre.  But otherwise...I cannot say.

I am interested to know where you are with Lent (if indeed you observe it at all;) what your thoughts and prayers and plans are, if you have a plan for an observance, denial, addition of spiritual or community practice.  Please shout out in the comments if you wish. 

Leaving Room for What is to Come

A broken heart has room.

This may sound kind of bleak but it is true.

A whole heart cannot take in more love, one that is broken has room for love and change in it.

Lent, a few weeks early….

Loving and caring God,

I pray to be made whole.

Not thinking that I was not leaving room for more to come,

For along the cracks of my heart are the healing fibers of love and restoration.

But there is room for more,

I am thankful that I am leaving room for what is to come.

Eventually being made whole.

Amen

Life is a blessing.

Steven

Fiat Lux

-- Rev Steven Masters

I am thankful for my friend Steven, who includes me in his daily prayer email and, in that ministry, touches me to the core so often.  This Lent is going to be "something completely different," as they say.  I trust that wholeness is at the other end. 

Prepare the Way

In my town, the roads seem to be "all construction, all the time."  There's a weekly feature in the paper asking a set of questions of local figures, and most everyone answers "What would you change about Denton" with "Finish the road construction at XYZ!" 

There's a place leading to our newest shopping area that's been under construction for the last 3 years.  Really!  It's just maddening.  It certainly keeps me from shopping at those places...at least as much as I would otherwise.  My Weight Watchers meeting is there, or I'd almost never go to that side of town. 

And, this summer, the street I live on has been removed and is being rebuilt.  They did it in 2 sections...the east end first...so I had an opportunity to see what was coming.  WHAT - A MESS! 

Now they are working on my part of the street.  I'm not sure why it was necessary to do this...the street was not in bad shape as far as I can see; while the street one block south is a wreck.  Anyway, on West Oak, the asphalt layer has been scraped away (about 10 inches worth), several curbs, sidewalk panels, and driveway entrances were wrecked out and re-concreted, and the street is currently a dusty blowing mess.  Ugh! 

I have been VERY put out about this!  You never know when you can get into the street, or the driveway; or from which direction.  You never know when you might have to back down the surface that is like driving on the moon, to enter another way. 

But I've decided I'm tired of hearing myself complain about it, and that I'm going to look at it as a metaphor for preparation.  It's Ordinary Time, but things feel more Lent-y to me. 

This summer at work is strange...I have a new "big boss" of a year now.  I have a new direct boss coming in August, and another new upper-level manager arriving in the next week.  We have been working on getting new management in here for the last four years, and working under an interim director for part of that time.  It's often been messy, inconvenient; we've had to learn new ways of doing things only to have them tossed out when the new person arrived.  The direct boss will be wonderful, I am confident, but there will be getting-to-know and learning-to-interpret and all that stuff.  And we are moving buildings in the winter...where we'll have less space than we do now. 

We are doing strategic planning - for the division, and for my own unit as well.  There are high expectations without a lot of clarity as to how they will be supported. 

Anticipating the year to come has been making me feel - well - just plain worn out.  I could use some resurrection! 

So...Lent is classically intended to include prayer, penitence, alms-giving, and self denial.  I'm not sure how alms-giving fits in here...but I'm going to concentrate on daily prayer for my workplace and my new leaders.  I'm going to do what I can to prepare the way, including cleaning off this desk and sorting the files, and getting rid of what I don't need...better now than right before Christmas.  I'm going to finish the strategic plan and turn it in for review. 

And I'm going to have faith that, eventually, the dust of all these changes will settle...as will the dust on my street...and there will be a way forward.