use of pictures and statues (iconography) in churches has always been used as a way of telling a story visually. It's no different then when parents use picture books to explain things to small children. The icons (statues and pictures) serve to visually tell a story, and remind people of some Christian truth.
A previously published pen and ink drawing (icon) of the Beggar Christ and Vincent de Paul by Meltem Aktas caught my attention. A copy of her work is displayed in the meditation room at St. Mary’s Hospital Pavilion (oncology clinic) in Grand Junction, CO. It certainly gave me pause after studying this icon and reading the poem associated with the drawing.
On the back of this framed illustration is a poem written by Jennifer Gordon for the 10th anniversary of Colorado Vincentian Volunteers that explains Aktas' rationale for creating this piece of art:
In unfamiliar streets I wander laden
With a loaf so full
That surely there will be enough for all.
In the same streets we meet.
I see your clothes, Your eyes, and think, “Aha!
Here is one who needs me.”
With a smile I hope is warm
I offer you bread
Only to know that the piece you give me
Is exactly what I did not know I needed.
This is my rendition in watercolor (5"x7") of the original painting by Aktas.
This is framed and displayed in the living area of our home and is a reminder of my professional and volunteering affiliation with the Sisters of Charity of Leavenworth (Kansas).
Please visit Floss who is hosting "A Pause in Lent" found here and read what others are thinking about this Lenten season as we take a pause in our lives for reflection.
I salute you and there is nothing I can give which you have not, but there is much while I cannot give it, you may take it. No heaven can come to us unless we find it in our hearts today. So take heaven. No joy can come to us, unless it comes to us in this present moment. Take joy. No peace can come to us, unless we find it right now. Take peace. (Father Giovanni, 1513)
Franz Cižek (Austrian artist, 1865-1946) Santa with Toys 1910-20
When I think of peace at this time of year, my visualization usually turns to doves, angels, or perhaps the nativity scene. Many beautiful images can be found at Inspiration Avenue on the web at this site. In fact, the bold type encourages "Peace on Earth, Goodwill To Men."
But what if the holidays are difficult for you, and peace is nowhere near possible? What if health issues take precedence in your mind, or you are grieving a difficult loss? What if your heart is breaking? Where is your peace, or peace of mind?
Family estrangement, especially during the holiday season, is a situation that brings many people anguish. I looked into this issue and found that this is a universal heartache, certainly not just one in my heart. And perhaps after reading this, you will not ask "WHY?" when you learn of an estrangement situation, but can just be there as support for your friend or family member.
So please indulge me, if you are so inclined, to read about some of these thoughts put together here, to gain a better understanding of why family members might estrange themselves.
From this article written by Tina Gilbertson, she hits it right on:
You must understand that the other person has a reason for wanting to reduce contact with you. It hurts to think about being rejected at all, and to accept that there's a reason you were rejected is one of the hardest things any of us can do. However, it's also necessary if you want to have a relationship with the person again. You are wrong and they are right. No qualifiers, no conditions, no compromises. How they feel is the absolute truth of the matter. This must be your attitude and your belief. People don't end important relationships on a whim; at some point they really must have felt hurt /unseen /devalued /attacked /vilified /dismissed /damaged /ignored /betrayed /rejected /disrespected by you enough to build that wall. Of course you never meant to do any such thing, but that's how they took it, and that's how they feel. That's reality. That's a fact. This is not about you. Your story is not interesting right now to the person who rejected you. They are only interested in their story. Since it was they who initiated the estrangement, your job is to be curious about them, to validate their feelings, and to be available to them in a way that they define as positive or useful.
Accept their decision. For whatever reason, no matter what you do, the other person may decide not to let you back into their life. Let them know that you accept their decision, that you genuinely wish them well, and that the door is always open if they change their mind. Acknowledge to yourself the loss of the relationship, and allow yourself to mourn. Accept the new reality of your life without that person in it. You will survive without them. Your life may look and feel different to you, but it will be yours to do with as you please. If they ever do change their mind and come knocking on your door, decide right now to let them find a peaceful, whole person on the other side.
Many parents have done everything possible to raise their kids in what they perceive to have been the right manner, but they still face excommunication from children and grandchildren. Here are possible issues involved:
Parents took an action “out of love” for the child, but it was the wrong action or the child perceives it as being wrong.
Some ex-wives or ex-husbands poison the child about the other parent. Sometimes, the child's new girlfriend or boyfriend uses similar tactics.
Some parents feel that they have spent years of their lives taking care of their children, and feel no further financial obligation. This common cause of family discord is multiplied when a child also hears that the money issue is somehow related to the parent's divorce.
Sometimes there is no obvious reason for a son or daughter to break off communication, but it would be helpful to many families if a social scientist would study this subject. It seems that one of the risk factors is divorce. Another factor is having daughters.
The central premise of this article is that all healing starts from within. The most important reconciliation is the one you make with yourself. That way, your family's willingness or unwillingness to participate in a healing process will not be able to take away your peace of mind.
An extensive listing of websites and resources relating to family estrangement can be found here.
Again, if you are seeking more help in understanding estrangement, the above cited resources can be helpful. Most large churches in urban areas have support groups on the topic of "estrangement."
Joshua Coleman, a San Francisco psychologist who is an expert on parental estrangement, says it appears to be growing more and more common, even in families who haven’t experienced obvious cruelty or traumas like abuse and addiction. Instead, parents often report that a once-close relationship has deteriorated after a conflict over money, a boyfriend or built-up resentments about a parent’s divorce or remarriage.
“We live in a culture that assumes if there is an estrangement, the parents must have done something really terrible,” said Dr. Coleman, whose book “When Parents Hurt” (William Morrow, 2007) focuses on estrangement. “But this is not a story of adult children cutting off parents who made egregious mistakes. It’s about parents who were good parents, who made mistakes that were certainly within normal limits.”
I am praying for peace this season. And I accept that as the mother of an estranged daughter, I am responsible for this estrangement. Just please don't ask my "why," because although I made many mothering mistakes, one of my two daughters is emotionally close to me while the other is distant.
Did I give too much attention to the handicapped child and not enough to the one without visible handicaps? Did I expect too much from one and not the other? If so, which one? Did I give too little, or too much? Should I have stayed in a marriage that was not good for any of us, and am now seeing consequences 30 years later? I have gone over the questions many times with both daughters, and they both give answers of "you did just fine." So somewhere in there is a mis-truth. But I still question, and yet also still don't have an answer as to why one has removed herself from the family.
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As a Christian, I believe God gave man peace through His Son. Here are a few scriptures I especially like to think about:
John 14:27....I am leaving you with a gift—peace of mind and heart. And the peace I give is a gift the world cannot give. So don’t be troubled or afraid.
Isaiah 40:29-30...
He gives power to the weak
and strength to the powerless.
Even youths will become weak and tired,
and young men will fall in exhaustion.
But those who trust in the Lord will find new strength.
They will soar high on wings like eagles.
They will run and not grow weary.
They will walk and not faint.
Joining in with Floss in France who has offered to sponsor a Christmas Blogger Event Termed "A Pause in Advent," where we stop a moment and reflect on the spiritual season, this article from the late 1980's gave me pause to think about a different turn on Christmas. Perhaps you will like it too. An excerpt...
I direct a Christian theater company and this Christmas season we have a play running called "0, Little Town of Bagels, Tea Cakes and Hamburger Buns." The play is about the contemporary experience of Christmas based on the fact that the people to whom Christ came that first Christmas are the same kinds of people that we are today. Bethlehem means "house of bread." Bread means bagels, tea cakes and hamburger buns. Christmas is not a remote event. It is not a memo tucked away in a history book and forgotten. It is a celebration for right now — for the people who are now, as were the people who were then — some of them hurting, some of them alone, some of them angry, some of them tired, some of them separated from their family, some of them ill. Unto those people, God sent his Christmas card.
or thinking about the most important event in the realm of Christianity as relating to Jesus' birth when the Angel Gabriel announced to Mary:
Luke 1:26 In the sixth month of Elizabeth’s pregnancy, God sent the angel Gabriel to Nazareth, a town in Galilee, 27 to a virgin pledged to be married to a man named Joseph, a descendant of David. The virgin’s name was Mary. 28 The angel went to her and said, “Greetings, you who are highly favored! The Lord is with you.”
29 Mary was greatly troubled at his words and wondered what kind of greeting this might be. 30 But the angel said to her, “Do not be afraid, Mary; you have found favor with God. 31 You will conceive and give birth to a son, and you are to call him Jesus. 32 He will be great and will be called the Son of the Most High. The Lord God will give him the throne of his father David, 33 and he will reign over Jacob’s descendants forever; his kingdom will never end.”
we are all somehow linked into God's kingdom. And I believe angels do guide and protect me while in a state of grace. (More about this here on guidance and protection.)
A few angels from my Christmas display collection:
See the angel furthermost to the left in the picture above? My mother had that easel angel for many years. She usually displayed it right beneath a pot of ivy. I think she must have connected to her heavenly roots each time she gazed on that angel. Stair-stepping up from the left is a contemporary angel my sister Pam gave me several years ago. I asked for it; wasn't that greedy? But she willingly complied...I just wanted an angel from her! Then the angel at the center-most top of the photograph was given to me by my friend Francis eleven years ago before she died that following summer. I always think of Fran and the good times we had painting together when I hold that fragile pink glass angel. The white angel above was given to me by my friend Carol about 15 years ago. We met in the early '70's when our husbands were in graduate school in Michigan, and we still keep in touch.
"Make Do and Mend" is a phrase from World War II that was more commonly used in Great Britain during WWII. Food and clothing were rationed after about 1940, and frugal living was a necessity.
source
(This links with BLUE MONDAY bloggers because I love the blue banner! But wait, there's more!)
Did you have a grandmother or a great, or a great-great who saved string, reused aluminum foil and saved vegetable seeds from the past seasonal crops? Of course, you say.
One of my favorites messages about mending and reflecting on aspects not only referring to simply repairing clothes, but also speaking to the issue of healing spirits was written by Susan Kittredge, a pastor who read her message on NPR back in 2008. Her entire story can be found here, and it is well worth the read. She said, in part:
...I have come to relish the moments when I sit down and, somewhat clumsily, repair a torn shirt, hem a skirt, patch a pair of jeans, and I realize that I believe in mending. The solace and comfort I feel when I pick up my needle and thread clearly exceeds the mere rescue of a piece of clothing. It is a time to stop, a time to quit running around trying to make figurative ends meet; it is a chance to sew actual rips together.
I can't stop the war in Iraq, I can't reverse global warming, I can't solve the problems of my community or the world, but I can mend things at hand. I can darn a pair of socks.
Accomplishing small tasks, in this case saving something that might otherwise have been thrown away, is satisfying and, perhaps, even inspiring.
Mending something is different from fixing it. Fixing it suggests that evidence of the problem will disappear. I see mending as a preservation of history and a proclamation of hope. When we mend broken relationships, we realize that we're better together than apart, and perhaps even stronger for the rip and the repair.
Now comes the part about cleaning and preserving needlepoint.
In this spirit of preserving, part of this past weekend was taken up in revamping a footstool I make twelve years ago with the ottoman top being made of a piece of needlepoint. The best part? The needlepoint is now about 100 years old. Yes, really. My great aunt made it in the early 1900's while living on her Texas farm. It was under glass for many years, and was passed along to me. I took the picture apart, discarded the frame and glass, and used it for that ottoman. This is a picture I took several years ago of the needlepoint.
But...it had not been cleaned in all those 100 years until yesterday. Granted, it was under glass for about 85 of those years, but for the past decade it has been used for feet, shoes and dogs to perch on. Did I hear you say "yuck!"?
After scrub-a-dub-dubbing the ottoman skirt, sewing a seam on the bottom ruffle, ironing the fabric, re-adhering it back to the box base with staples, washing the needlepoint three times (you should have seen that dirty water in the first soaking!) and giving new trims, it is almost ready for use again.
The roses are much brighter. All it is lacking is a knitted edge found here. I'm working fast and furiously on it.
NOW FOR THE GIVE AWAY
If you leave a comment on this post and tell me something about Mending and Making Do and what you have done to make do and mend (or just that you went to the NPR site and read Kittredge's post...again, the site can be accessed here), your name will be put into my give-away for a piece of needlepoint my mother made many years ago. I will pick a name and let you know the winner once I have completed the lace edging for the newly renovated ottoman. Then I'll show a picture of the "mended" and cleaned ottoman and announce the winner once that edge is finished. Comments will be collected through November 6, 2012.
Here is the lovely yellow needlepoint piece, still damp and being blocked, 13.5" x 13.5" that you can win:
It is so fun to win something, and I do hope you will leave a comment. I just won a digital download from Kepanie yesterday that she posted on her blog Knitspiring Odyssey. It is an e-book entitled Autumn 2012 Accessories Thank you, Kepanie!
"He will cover you with his feathers. Under his wings you will take refuge. His faithfulness is your shield and rampart." Psalms 91:4 (World English Bible)
"O Jerusalem, Jerusalem, you who kill the prophets and stone those sent to you, how often I have longed to gather your children together, as a hen gathers her chicks under her wings, but you were not willing!" ~ Luke 13:34 NIV
As an older parent whose daughters are now adults, how many times I have thought of these verses. I have recalled them when I wanted to shelter my children from despair, from hurts, from disappointments and failures, from criticism, injustice or any hateful thing that came their way. But how many times did I quote this verse to them when they were children, or even now as they are adults? Not once that I can remember.
And for that I grieve - that I did not take the time to use those teaching opportunities to share God's love with them. Now I only ask that the Father cover me with His forgiveness, and allow me to go forth in confidence.
The verse was in reference to Jerusalem, and can be read following the break:
Today begins the 26th week in the church liturgical calendar of Ordinary Times prior to the Christmas Season. Decorations were changed from the ones posted here several months ago at The American Lutheran Church to the new pieces shown below.
First, the centerpiece of the wall decorations is a quilt made by Pat McCarroll who entered into this humble McCarroll clan in 1974, bringing along her crafting skills that eventually culminated in her expert quilting arts. Unfortunately she cannot see well enough now to continue with her crafts, but she generously loaned our church this autumn quilt of a tree with a wee squirrel at the base of the tree trunk. Don't you think the purples in the quilt really make the oranges and yellows pop?
To the upper right of the wall scheme is a picture of a coreopsis I painted ten years ago. After adding a bit of purple to the background, I then borrowed it from the living room of our house to re-hang at church.
This is the completed collage with foam board covered in coordinating fall fabrics to round out the autumnal colors.
If the LORD was not fighting for us when men attacked: they would have eaten us alive because they were so angry, waters would have rushed over us and a deep river would be over our heads, the angry waters would have gone over our heads and drowned us. We will say good things to the LORD.
He did not let them eat us. We are free and still alive, like a bird that got out of a trap.
The trap became broken and we are free.The name of the person that sent us help is the LORD.
He made heaven and earth.
May you all have a blessed 26th week in Ordinary Times.
We Christians are in the midst of a long liturgical season called "Ordinary Time". It has an associated color: green. All colors and their associated seasons can be found at the ELCA link.
Green is the appointed color for all but a few of the Sundays during these seasons. Consequently, green may be used an average of six to eight months of any given liturgical year!...Variety and change in shades of this color would go a long way in keeping the season fresh and "green." Changing the paraments every six weeks would complement the Sundays following Pentecost and their emphasis on personal faith that is living and growing.
Our church is sprucing up its sanctuary and adding color. We are displaying rectangles and squares in varying large sizes, along with other appropriate paraments to bring a focal point to one large wall area.
Hopefully, these two pictures on 12 mm silk will be used as decoration to cover one or two of the nine foam boards. Once all are hung, I will update this post and show the completed wall decorations.
...joining in with Floss at her blog to write about the The Thrill of What You Already Have...
This will be an introspective post, so sit down with your coffee as you are invited to take more than a minute to read about a virtual friend and what she has written here about needing a summer job to help the dormouse and her husband get through the summer on a more even note.
After reading what the dormouse wrote, it stirred me into thinking about how God takes care of us in ways we can't even imagine. This is what she says in part of her post and in quoting scripture:
I have spent a couple of nights lying awake worrying, ... I need to bring my worrying mind to rest and try to trust God...
"Therefore I tell you, do not worry about your life, what you will eat or drink; or about your body, what you will wear. Is not life more than food, and the body more than clothes? Look at the birds of the air; they do not sow or reap or store away in barns, and yet your heavenly Father feeds them. Are you not much more valuable than they? Can any one of you by worrying add a single hour to your life?"
The "thrill of what I already have" is a powerful memory of my mother in the late 1960's.
To set the scene: she and I lived in a small, conservative Texas town. She was divorced, coming out of an almost catatonic 18 month depression (remember, we did not have psychiatric drugs back then save for electroshock therapy). We had just moved out of her parents' home where we had lived for two years, completely dependent on them. We had very little money, living in a small and very old rental house made of stone.
The memory which I want to recall as most impressive, however, is that of mother saying many times that if God could care enough to provide food for the sparrows and to clothe the lilies of the field in glory, that He would certainly take care of us. And He did. She died in 2000, and He continued to take care of her throughout her life, as she had always trusted.
Certainly not all of what gives us a thrill is on the physical plane, as this particular memory still gives me pause. I think of mother speaking of the well being of the sparrows and the beauty of the lilies when worry begins it insidious way of worming into my soul, and I am always comforted.
Following up on the Theme for Bloggers put out by Floss at Troc Broc and Recup', here is an article that I find intriguing regarding Christ and the cross, which is what Lent is all about. The article starts out with the question "what is atonement"?
Excerpts come from a published piece in RedlandsDailyFacts by Gregory Elder, a professor of history and humanities at Moreno Valley College (CA) and a Roman Catholic priest.
The term in English, "atonement," means what it sounds like, making things to be "at one," meaning humanity being made one with God. It is used many times in the Hebrew Scriptures and is found in words meaning roughly "reconciliation."
In the Hebrew writings, it is made clear on a number of occasions that sin separates people from friendship with God, and the ultimate penalty for human sin is death, as God promised Adam in Eden. (Genesis 3:3) But God is also merciful and allows people time to repent their sins; death is not instantaneous. In the Mosaic covenant, this separation from God caused by sin was remedied by animal sacrifice.
Father Elder talks about three different theories of atonement: the "ransom theory", the "satisfaction" view and the "demonstration" theory. Regarding the ransom theory, I found this quite interesting, spurring me on to purchase the old C.S. Lewis classic on my Kindle for a re-read:
The ransom theory was very popular in antiquity, and is often expressed by my patron saint, St. Gregory of Nyssa. It is a theme of the atonement used by C.S. Lewis in his book which was recently made into a film, "The Lion, the Witch and the Wardrobe."
This ransom theory, that Christ paid the ultimate sacrifice for the sins of mankind by giving his life for those who accept his divinity, and canceling out moral debts of humans, is the one I was taught from the cradle.
But as Father Elder postulates, no matter the theory behind atonement, all give pause. And all views have been excellent fodder for homiletic points for Christ's work on the cross regarding His forgiveness of sin.
As As Floss says in relating to the horrific killings in her own backyard in Toulouse last week
One thing I do know is that people who spend more time forgiving the little things are better practiced at forgiving the big things.
To be at one, to be forgiven, and to forgive, to be at peace...atonement.
Special thanks to "bunnits" over at Art In The Wind, who not only told me about this song, but also tracked down the lyrics and sent them via email. The song is "Ashes" by Pat Conry.
1. We rise again from ashes,
from the good we’ve failed to do.
We rise again from ashes,
to create ourselves anew.
If all our world is ashes,
then must our lives be true,
an offering of ashes, an offering to you.
2. We offer you our failures,
we offer you attempts,
the gifts not fully given,
the dreams not fully dreamt.
Give our stumblings direction,
give our visions wider view,
an offering of ashes, an offering to you.
3. Then rise again from ashes,
let healing come to pain,
though spring has turned to winter,
and sunshine turned to rain.
The rain we’ll use for growing,
and create the world anew
from an offering of ashes, an offering to you.
4. Thanks be to the Father,
who made us like himself.
Thanks be to his Son,
who saved us by his death.
Thanks be to the Spirit
who creates the world anew
from an offering of ashes, an offering to you.
While this plays, I am reflecting on that which may be "given up" for Lent. If the abstinence of the substance or activity is given up, it is called sacrifice.
And if the mere act of not succumbing to a temptation is given up (which is likely not in our best interests anyway), why is it then termed "sacrifice"?
It seems that sacrifice has many depths...pausing to consider.
Please visit Floss at the blog where she has sponsored a theme of writing during Lent. Her left sidebar links to others who are writing on the theme of "A Pause in Lent". Reading others' thoughts does give pause.
Reread the second verse of Ashes; my favorite.
For Christians, the Lenten season is a time for reflection. The forty days of Lent generally represent the forty days that Jesus spent in the desert in prayer and spiritual anticipation of his Passion, Death and Resurrection.
The 40 days of Lent, which precedes Easter is based on two Biblical accounts: the 40 years of wilderness wandering by the Israelites and our Lord's 40 days in the wilderness at which point He was tempted by Satan. Each year the Church observes Lent where we, like Israel and our Lord, are tested. We participate in abstinence, times of fasting, confession and acts of mercy to strengthen our faith and devotional disciplines. The goal of every Christian is to leave Lent a stronger and more vital person of faith than when we entered.
Words and images, thoughts and reflections going along with the Lenten season include the Cardinal Virtues (and theological virtues) of:
...as suggested in Floss's blog. She is inspiring others to write on this theme of A Pause in Lent during the coming weeks. Please check her out; she has quite a following, writing from France.
For a post on a Lenten theme the day after Ash Wednesday, I refer to Philip Yancy's book What's So Amazing About Grace? when he writes about Bill Moyer's documentary film on the hymn "Amazing Grace". Moyers was sitting with Jessye Norman in her dressing room prior to a concert in London in Wembley Stadium. She was scheduled to sing this song as the closing act which was to conclude a twelve hour concert for rock music fans. This is from page 282 of the book:
"..(the crowds was) already high on booze and dope...The crowd was restless. Few recognize Jessye Norman as the opera diva. Alone, a capella, she begins to sing, very slowly the opening verse...A remarkable thing happens in Wembley Stadium that night. Seventy thousand fans are singing along, digging far back in nearly lost memories for words they head long ago.
When we've been there then thousand years,
Bright shining as the sun,
We've no less days to sing God's praise
Than when we first begun.
Jessye Norman later confessed she had no idea what power descended on Wembley Stadium that night. I think I know. The world thirsts for grace. When grace descends, the world falls silent before it.
When I was born to Helen and Jeremiah Land, in 1951, my lungs refused to kick in.
My father wasn't in the delivery room or even in the building; the halls of Wilson Hospital were close and short, and Dad had gone out to pace in the damp September wind. He was praying, rounding the block for the fifth time, when the air quickened. He opened his eyes and discovered he was running - sprinting across the grass toward the door.
"How'd you know?" I adored this story, made him tell it all the time.
"God told me you were in trouble."
"Out loud? Did you hear Him?"
"Nope, not out loud. But He made me run, Reuben. I guess I figured it out on the way."
I had, in fact, been delivered some minutes before. My mother was dazed, propped against soggy pillows, unable to comprehend what Dr. Animas Nokes was telling her.
"He still isn't breathing, Mrs. Land."
"Give him to me!"
To this day I'm glad Dr. Nokes did not hand me over on demand. Tired as my mother was, who knows when she would've noticed? Instead he laid me down and rubbed me hard with a towel.. He pounded my back; he rolled me over and massaged my chest. He breathed air into my mouth and nose -- my chest rose, fell with a raspy whine, stayed fallen. Years later Dr. Nokes would tell my brother Davy that my delivery still disturbed his sleep. He's never seen a child with such swampy lungs.
When Dad skidded into the room, Dr Nokes was sitting on the side of the bed holding my mother's hand. She was wailing -- I picture her as an old woman here, which is funny, since I was never to see her as one --and old Nokes was attempting to ease her grief. It was unavoidable, he was saying; nothing could be done; perhaps it was for the best.
I was lying uncovered on a metal table across the room.
Dad lifted me gently. I was very clean from all that rubbing, and I was gray and beginning to cool. A little clay boy is what I was.
"Breathe," Dad said.
I lay in his arms.
Dr Nokes said "Jeremiah, it has been twelve minutes."
"Breathe!" The picture I see is of Dad, brown hair short and wild, giving this order as if he expected noting but odedience.
Dr. Nokes approached him. "Jeremiah. There would be brain damage now. His lungs can't fill."
Dad leaned down, laid me back on the table, took off his jacket and wrapped me in it -- a black canvas jacket with a quilted lining, I have it still. He left my face uncovered.
"Sometimes," said Dr. Nokes, "there is something unworkable in one of the organs. A ventricle that won't pump correctly. A liver that poisons the blood." Dr. Nokes was a kindly and reasonable man. "Lungs that can't expand to take in air. In these cases," said Dr. Nokes, "we must trust in the Almighty to do what is best." At which Dad stepped across and smote Dr. Nokes with a right hand, so that the doctor went down and lay on his side with his pupils unfocused. As Mother cried out, Dad turned back to me, a clay child wrapped in a canvas coat, and said in a normal voice, "Reuben Land, in the name of the living God I am telling you to breathe."
... excerpted not only from Leif Enger's book PEACE LIKE A RIVER, but also from the book AT THE STILL POINT: A LITERARY GUIDE TO PRAYER IN ORDINARY TIME by Sarah Arthur
Abraham Verghese brought the story of the beggar's slippers to my attention in Cutting for Stone. It is worth a reprise here. (Chapter 29 is the reference point for this story.)
Abu Kassem, a miserly Baghdad merchant, had held on to his battered, much repaired pair of slippers even though they were objects of derision. At last, even he couldn't stomach the sight of them. But his every attempt to get rid of his slippers ended in disaster: when he tossed them out of his window they landed on the head of a pregnant woman who miscarried, and Abu Kassem was thrown in jail; when he dropped them in the canal, the slippers choked off the main drain and caused flooding. Off Abu Kassem went to jail...Abu Kassem might as well build a special room for his slippers.. Why try to lose them? He'll never escape. The slippers in the story mean that everything you see and do and touch, every seed you sow, or don't sow, becomes part of your destiny.
Abraham Verghese has one of his characters say this regarding the topic of making up for absences:
I made up for...(father's)... absence by hoarding knowledge, skills, seeking praise. What I finally understood ...is that neither my sister nor I realized that my father's absence is our slippers. In order to start to get rid of your slippers, you have to admit they are yours, and if you do, then they will get rid of themselves...The key to your happiness is to own your slippers, own who you are, own how you look, own your family, own the talents you have, and own the ones you don't. If you keep saying your slippers aren't yours, then your'll die searching, you'll die bitter, always feeling you were promised more. Not only our actions, but our omissions, become our destiny. (Cutting for Stone, Chapter 29)
Over the years, I have tried to rid myself of many pairs of (emotional bondage) slippers: sorrow, grief and regrets are woven into the soles and fabric of my tattered slippers.
After I realized several pairs of "slippers" were mine for a lifetime, they wore better. Even the calluses caused by the slippers have become part of me. I look at them with curiosity and reluctant acceptance. Tough layers of skin... would I want to rid myself of those experiences that caused the calluses? The slippers worn are not comfortable, yet have softened my heart and helped hardened my insecurities. My own tattered slippers have helped mold me into one of God's loved, flawed, creations.
These hats are, of course, for my daughter Julie. Julie had her first chemo treatment this week, along with the requisite anti-nausea drugs. After three days post treatment, she is still not keeping anything down. Sigh.
...When I found out that my newborn needed emergency abdominal surgery, I immediately asked to have her baptized. If my baby girl had to undergo all of that suffering, I wanted it all to mean something. I wanted her incorporated into the mystical body of Christ. I wanted her hurt to save souls.
A birth defect is different from the ordinary effects of sin. My baby girl didn't get hit by a bullet or poisoned by an environmental toxin. The Creator of the World, the One who lovingly knit together my baby's body in the womb decided in His infinite wisdom to drop a purl stitch in the formation of my baby girl's intestine.
Futher reading can be found here by Abigail about her infant daughter's sickness. It is well worth the read, and gave me pause after digesting her interpretation of why this birth defect happened to her child. I hope you take the time to read it.
What is Maundy Thursday? In short, it is the day commemorating the Last Supper with Jesus and his disciples.
More information about the word "Maundy" from here:
1. (obsolete) A commandment.
2. (obsolete) The sacrament of the Lord's supper.
3. The ceremony of washing the feet of poor persons or inferiors, performed as a religious rite on Maundy Thursday in commemoration of Christ's washing the disciples' feet at the last supper.
4. The office appointed to be read during the ceremony of feet-washing.
Jacopo Bassano's Last Supper, painted in 1542, is one of the masterpieces of 16th century Italian painting. Instead of the elegant grouping of figures in Leonardos' painting, which inspired it, this dramatic scene features barefoot fishermen at the crucial moment when Christ asks who will betray him, and the light passing through a glass of wine stains the clean tablecoth red. Recent restoration has only now revealed the extraordinary original colours, which had been heavily painted over in the 19th century, when the emerald green and iridescent pinks and oranges were not in fashion.
The themes painted by Bassano are predominantly religious but in the Mannerist style he includes many every day articles, rural people, barns and farmhouses. His work is devoid of the grand temples, the silk and furs of his contemporaries; Bassano’s depictions are of normal people, undertaking daily tasks. Many of his works are Franciscan in content, full of nature and animals, the focal points of his pictures are often surrounded by detailed images of farm animals, dogs and cats. His painting Two hunting dogs tied to a tree is credited with being one of the first animal portraits in Western art in existence.
