...hmmmm, interesting

The Ritchie's have been on a quest for the perfect property. Last year at this time, we were hoping to sell our house to buy 3 acres and a quaint but in need of repair house. Didn't happen.

Today, we made an offer on 5 acres with a charming craftsman style bungalow (lead glass in the built ins and authentic stained glass in the windows). As we walked the land today with our two wonderful friends, what did we spy? Berries. Black, wine and rasp.....berries to behold. Well, at least we saw the canes that will hold the berries come summer. The property is crammed with heaven.

A new thing is breaking in. It springs forth already. We are actively perceiving it and acting on it.

.....yup, we still have to sell our house first. The boys pitched in tonight, by washing the dishes and cleaning the grout in the countertop tiles. Who knew they even noticed? What else do they see that I don't?



asgr

berries of gratitude

I have the best friends on the planet. It has been a goal of mine to surround myself with individuals smarter than I am. I am more like Pooh than Einstein, but I am savvy enough to know it.

Today, I said goodbye (see previous blog) to Carrie and Torin. Smart, sharp, organized, brilliant.....they are moving to a new location and new job. I was so struck by how I was not sad. I was not sad....why the heck not? My bagel buddy would not be in town. My stalwart truth teller would be emails away. How could I not be sad? Well, because I was too busy being grateful and full of love.

Awww, you say.

No. Really. Grateful for powerful friends. Grateful for the impact they will have on a new church, an old denomination, a dawning day for religio-spirituality. Big impact. Like a meteor. And now I have a nifty place to visit for long weekends.

So later in the day.....another good friend stopped by. She is vim and vigor personified. 'Nuff said.

So, later after that......my long time friend who lives 5 hours away sent emails as she wrote soul stirring prose for publication about suffering, lent, and a four-legged 3 pronged clay thing that represent her family. (go to catapult.com for her soon to be printed article)

Grateful. Grateful. Grateful. I am.

asgr

plucking bagels

Why is it that the best and most productive conversations happen at table? I'm not talking about the board table with stale donuts in the middle. But at the bagel shop. At the cafe'. At the local diner.

We order, we talk, we wipe our faces, we discuss. And in a span of just over an hour, topics go deep, real comments are made, and we touch truth.

It is best done where the food has been touched by chefs/cooks who care about those who partake of their culinary creations. But really, the kitchen table at home will do just fine.

When was the last time you had a conversation that talked about ideas and intent, and not just bottom lines and he said/she said?

......time to break out the bagels.
asgr

farewell to dear ones

....this week I must say goodbye to dear friends. They have done what they came to do: study, grow, have a baby. I love them three, and life will have an empty quality to it for a while. Sort of like when you buy a new house, and the first time you go in after the sellers have moved all of there stuff out, the house echos with lack.........

it will fill again, and i will go out to visit from time to time.......the echo will fade, and I'll get those nifty notices from Kodak to view their photo gallery.

Praise be.

asgr

pondering the prodigal

Pastor Kelly preached a sermon on Sunday that kicked! As always. It was on the tried and tired Prodigal Son. Her emphasis was that of how confession and growth go hand in hand. At the end, she asked us who (in the story) needed yet to confess: the father for throwing a party? the stay at home son for being snippy? She always manages to bring a new light to scripture texts darkened with familiarity.

I want to ponder the prodigal a bit. The ending always receives short shrift. We've already had the full story of the son who leaves, debauches, regrets and returns. The father welcomes and throws a party. Any energy thrown the way of the stay-at-home son is usually casual and flippant. Well, why not? The stay at home son is whiny and a complainer. Poor sod. He worked and worked and never got what his brother received. Did he ever ask his father for a party? You have to wonder. I know I always asked my parents for things I wanted, knowing they would simply say "no" if they were not inclined to provide it.

It is the stark ending that pulls me in. Imagine.......a house, lit up, full of people, music, dancing.......and outside its dark. You can see the merriment through the windows, while the noises are muffled by the walls. Outside, only those on errands scurry about in the cool of the evening. The life is inside. The stay-at-home son is sulking, alone for a bit, outside. Refusing to go in.

Out comes the father. A father who is delighted at the return of his prodigal son. A father who is full of joy and emotion. A father who has two sons. The father comes outside of the party, leaving the life, the mirth, the joy, to stand in the darkness with the other son.

This is the point where it all freezes for me. Stilled to perfection. For if, in the parable, the father is to symbolize God, then God has just left perfect joy to stand with humanity in its self created hell of darkness.

And the story ends there. Out there in the darkness. It is not tidy or rosy....it just ends.

That is the power of the parable. Not simply the father's forgiveness for the wayward son, but for the commitment to stand outside of the party, in the pouty darkness, for as long as it takes. And this is the God I know and serve. This is the God who meets the needs of the deserving, and the needs of the entitled.

....this God who stands with me, with humanity, with creation for as long as it takes for us to get it. To get that the party is already on, and all we have to do is go inside. All we have to do is walk through the door.

asgr (with an appreciative nod to Robert Capon's exegetical work)

Plucking Blackberries

"Earth is crammed with heaven, and every common bush afire with God; But only the ones who see, take off their shoes. The rest sit round it and pluck blackberries." Elizabeth Barrett Browning

This blog is mostly for my personal journey through the mental and faith wanderings of a Doctor of Ministry program. I welcome all who wish to comment, correct, insult, laugh.......

My intent is to be too busy catching fire to the hem of my skirts, to be distracted by the blackberries.

But, Oh, sometimes, those succulent juices are sweeter than truth. To be redirected, enthralled, and filled up with the berries of life......

I guess I want both.

asgr