Newsletters from 2011

12 Days: Nov - Dec 2011

A couple of days into Christmas I heard a few conversations about Christmas being over. The newspaper comics were full of people taking down their trees. What? Haven't these folk ever heard of the 12 days of Christmas? Five golden rings, leaping lords and pipers piping? How could you count all those weeks of preparation as CHRISTMAS and then just pack it in? What a waste!

Grown-ups: October 2011

In her book Leaving Church, Barbara Brown Taylor complained that there was no place in the church to be an adult. This is particularly interesting considering that she was one of the early female Episcopal Priests, got burned out after a number of years in parish ministry and then concluded with that statement.

Streetcars: September 2011

In 1930 Glenn Clark, a literature professor and Presbyterian Sunday School teacher, held his first "Camp Farthest Out." A man of prayer and author of THE SOUL'S SINCERE DESIRE, he had been much in demand as a speaker at camps and conferences. His first camp spawned others--more than 100 still going on today--camps dedicated to "discovering the wholeness of that abundant life which Christ promised; that life which is our rightful heritage whenever we dedicate our body, mind and soul completely to God through play, work and worship."

Lion Around: August 2011

I told Michael that I found it odd when friends get manicures or pedicures as a special treat, in order to feel pampered. The idea of someone mucking with my hands or feet in a smelly environment sounds more like torture to me. Michael asked, "What makes you feel pampered?"

"Going out to dinner, breakfast in bed, reading a great novel."

He's Back: July 2011

He's back. No, I didn't go with him. (Pause for eye-rolls from adventurous, go-anywhere types.) Frankly, I rather Serve-The-Lord from the comfort of my new swivel chair from Office Max, than go off to fight mosquitos and ants, heat and humidity in the jungles of Belize.

Back Again: June 2011

On Monday evening after returning from two and a half weeks at The Bishop's Ranch, I said to Michael, "Just how is it I do my life?" This was not only because I couldn't find the slot in the wall where you take your dishes after eating. I loved doing two services a day, enjoyed thinking about what was coming up and finding a song or something to add to the mix. Sitting in silence in the church before each service was a blessing. "How is it," I asked the Lord, "that you managed to give me a church?" I had wanted one for such a long time.

Packing: May 2011

I read...somewhere...about a couple of guys traveling (Africa? South America? Himalayas?) who thought they'd impress the natives by showing off their techno-cool camping gear. There was a long silence as they pulled item after item out of their back packs for display. Finally one of the natives commented to another, "They must have committed many sins to be carrying such large burdens."

Sneak Preview: April 2011

Suddenly fed up with writing non-fiction, I offer you something different this month than my usual info-pinions. Here is a story written after I'd started our first creative Bible study, Making a Mark. It is part of the soon to be printed (please God) compilation of Word Shop Writings entitled, This is Terrible; The Writer's Lament.

Reading the quote below I was struck by a tone that seemed to assume everyone knew Alexander and Rufus. As I wondered about Simon's two sons the story emerged--with a surprising Oaky flavor.

The Dance: March 2011

A complaint I often hear about liturgical churches is, "people just repeat all those prayers without even sounding like they mean it." This is true. I am perfectly capable of rattling off any number of prayers and creeds, all the while wondering if there will be any good cookies at coffee hour. I am equally capable of opening my Bible in the morning and reading the daily dose of scripture, while half my brain is bumping around possible ways to get my ipad on-line so I can take credit cards at an upcoming event.

Narrating: February 2011

Seems like I just did this. I suppose that's what comes of being late in the middle of a short month. However, I have read three decent books since the last newsletter, and they all weave together: stories about story.

Not Thrilled: January 2011

I'm not a great fan of thrillers. I'm too physically chicken to enjoy a series of narrow scrapes, even in print. As a mom, I spent years of devoted energy bringing little boy bodies into the world and watching them with eagle eyes through the mobile and brainless stages of development. Why would I enjoy seeing anyone risk life and limb? And clearly what many people do for fun (skiing, scuba diving, football) is evidence that the mobile and brainless stage can extend well into adulthood, especially in males.

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