Wisdom in Unexpected Places

Wisdom - knowledge, wise sayings or teachings.

When I was in high school and college and needed information for a paper or project, one of my parents dropped me off at the closest library where I spent a few hours looking through encyclopedias. The library continued to be a resource when I needed to read about a particular topic throughout much of my adult life. Recently, however, I discovered a new place of wisdom -  the wrapper of Hall's cough drops!!

Last week I had a sore, dry throat, so I purchased a package of Hall's sugar-free cherry cough drops. Unwrapping the first one, I noticed the following phrase printed on the paper: "A pep talk in every drop." Looking further I saw these words in the center of the diamond logo: "Dust off and get up," "It's yours for the taking," "March forward!" "Conquer today!"

Wisdom in a cough drop wrapper?? Through the next five days, while my cough healed, I accumulated quite a pile of wrappers, containing endless wisdom and good wishes including the following:

"Put your game face on ...Let's hear your battle cry ...Seize the day ....Get through it ....You can do it and you know it ...Power through ...Don't waste a precious minute ... Nothing you can't handle ....Keep your chin up."

I realized there were other "unlikely" places for gleaning wisdom such as fortune cookies, on pieces of Dove chocolate and the front page of the Indianapolis Star (which always prints the same Bible verse, 2 Corinthians 3:17 - Where the spirit of the Lord is, there is liberty.). The Fishers YMCA has a basket of narrow, multi-colored strips of paper containing scripture. Patrons are welcome to take one or more at each visit.

Perhaps the people at Hall's want to offer an encouraging word to those who aren't feeling well, to brighten their day and distract their physical duress. Well, it worked. I gained a bit of wisdom and energy, each time I unwrapped one of their cough drops.

Where do you find wisdom n unexpected places?

An Opening Is A Beginning

Last summer I taught a class at the Chautauqua Institute in western New York called,  "Praying with Sand, Paper, Paint and Pen."

One of my students came in the first day and shared how she was going through a divorce. The second day she provided more detail acknowledging how her husband's infidelity was causing upheaval in their family.

Another student commented, "Why don't you pray for the other woman?"

The woman replied, "That's an interesting thought."

The third day of class we shared our pictures of prayer completed in various colors and designs.

"I decided to pray for the woman who now lives with my ex-husband. I used yellow and green and these shapes," she said showing us her picture.

Noting spaces of white in the middle of the paper and on the sides, I commented, "Even if this is all you do,  there is an opening."

My student smiled.

Opening our heart can be the first step to creating space for God to enter. Opening breaks the tension, tightness and hold that can grip our very core when difficult circumstances come our way.

Thirteen years ago, Sarah gave me a paperweight for Mother's Day. A red heart is in the middle surrounded by clear glass. The hollow center of the heart dips into the base. You can feel the depth of the opening with your finger.

Dipping your finger into the heart and "roaming" through illustrates how much room an open heart offers for God. Rough patches happen in many forms and it's easy to close our hearts when pain overwhelms. We can become hardened with envy, jealousy, anger and frustration.

However, even small openings or spaces, as my student left between shapes, are room enough for God's light to enter and slowly work along the raw and rough insides of our hearts. God's love can be a soothing balm that over time will lessen pain or change to a new form that is manageable and doesn't carry quite the hurt that once was there.

How can you create openings in your heart and space for God to come in and work?

Prayer: God, no one is immune to sorrow or loss for circumstances happen in life that hurt and harden our hearts. We often call to you for understanding and in our cries are the beginning of openings where you can come in and work through the hard tunnels and passages that hardship seems to burrow. Send your light to these places so that peace can come. Amen.

Not Reading

I attended an author fair at the Carmel Public Library on a recent summer Saturday afternoon. More than twenty authors gathered to sell their publications and interact with visitors.

Talking with other writers inspires me. I love learning why he or she is interested in a particular topic to write a book. Intrigued, I went from table to table, skimming books and chatting with the authors. Three different writers asked me the same question that was an unexpected query, "What type of books do you like to read?"

I was stumped!! First, I didn't expect an author to ask me a question and second, I had to reveal my lack of reading during the past several years.

Embarrassed, I replied to each, "I haven't been reading. I write." My brief response ended the conversation and I walked to the next table.

Not reading books during the past few years has left a gap in my life. I miss getting lost in a book, thinking about the plot while I am at work or driving, eager to return to read what was going to happen with my favorite character or how the plot would evolve.

I learned a long time ago that reading expands vocabulary, inspires imagination and is especially helpful for those who like to write.

One of my favorite blog writers is Charity Singleton Craig. When I see Charity's writing appear in my email, I click immediately. Her post on August 27, "Read and Respond: Writing Comes from Reading," chronicles her path of reading beginning when she was four. Charity references another writer, L. L. Barkat, who comments in her blog, "Green Inventions Central" on August 25, 2011, about her fourteen year old daughter's passion for writing poetry is due to her prolific reading. L. L. Barkat says, "All that reading, I'm convinced has shaped her writing."

Maybe all of the reading I used to do has influenced my writing, the writing I do today. Much of my reading as an adult involved authors and their processes of writing including Anne Morrow Lindbergh, Madeleine L'Engle, and Kathleen Norris, all of whom have a reflective, self-exploring style. 

The day after the author fair I stopped by the library in the church I attend, hoping once again to find a book to read. After all, since "reading comes from writing," I was desperate. I chose a book by Robert Hamma called Landscapes of the Soul: A Spirituality of Place.

The author shares a story in the introduction about a third century monk, St. Antony, who is asked by a philosopher how he can survive without books. St. Antony's reply gives me comfort: "My book, sir philosopher, is the nature of created things, and it is always at hand when I wish to read the words of God."

Although I haven't advanced beyond the introduction, I did receive encouragement for my lack of reading by learning than an awareness of God as I look deeply at people, things, events and experiences in my world, will let me find God there ...... and write what I discover.

Guest Writer: Anna Reed - "Not quite a bowl, but it worked just fine."

On June 14, I shared a picture of a bowl purchased at Betsy and Iya, the store where Anna, my youngest daughter is in charge of media and marketing. The blog entry invited readers to select, bless and fill a bowl in whatever way they chose during the months of July and August.

Anna completed the project.  Here is a picture of her bowl and comments about the experience.

"When I read my mom's post from June 14th, I was filled with the customary inspiration that comes after reading her words. I connected even deeper to this particular post since the bowl she described came from the shop where I work. I am beyond delighted that something she bought during a visit to Portland inspired such a mindful project. When I read the call-to-action for her readers to also conduct a "bowl project," I knew it was something I wanted to do.

I have the classic conundrum of those with both a small living space and borderline hoarder tendencies: I don't have a lot of room in my one bedroom apartment, but I do have a lot of things I want to keep. Most of these things are reminders of love. My parents are a constant reminder of love, and their acts are the things that remind me of God's love as well. My bowl - not a bowl at all, but rather a small vessel handmade by one of my favorite ceramists in Portland - became a place for holding these special things.

Often times, I am messy in my way of keeping track of these items that cross many miles to get to me and remind me that I am loved. Having the bowl project gave me a devoted place to keep these things, a place that is beautiful in decoration and easy to access, but also didn't take up too much space in my apartment.

Things that found their way in there were mindfully placed mementos of love: handwritten notes from my mom, an envelope addressed by my dad (just seeing familiar handwriting is a reminder of love to me), a movie ticket a friend bought me out of love - because we both needed to escape the heat and what better treat than a cool, dark theater?

Through the project, I learned that simply being open and ready to receive is enough to find oneself "overflowing with expressions of love," as my mom wrote. It doesn't have to take up a lot of space in your mind or on your countertop, nor is it complicated to catalogue. I never second guessed what I put in the bowl, I just knew. Because I was open.

Ultimately, my bowl experience was a fulfillment of my mom's prayer for her readers at the end of her post. That prayer reads: God, fill us to overflowing with tangible expressions of your goodness, love and challenge. Guide our reflections with what you give so we can learn more about ourselves and our lives with you. Amen.

Who doesn't want to feel that? I feel blessed that I did through this project, and continue to because of it."

Anna Reed, August 27, 2015.

A Circle of Quilting Moms - A Circle of Love

One of the many blessings of being in ministry is the congregations Mike pastored. We were fortunate in each church to have men and women who became surrogate grandmas and grandpas, aunts and uncles to Sarah and Anna, filling gaps that our lack of family provided. Many of these friendships continue today even though we have not been in some of the churches for over thirty years.

When we moved to Fishers, in June, 1996, Sarah was a freshman at I. U. and Anna a sixth-grader. We were embraced once again by a loving church community.

Anna became acquainted with a wonderful group of girls and one young man who became fast friends through school events, but mainly by participating in church youth group. Their friendship deepened as they served on mission trips as well as celebrated birthdays, went to the prom, ate at favorite restaurants, and traveled to the mall. The families of these young people - particularly the mothers - became friends too, as we watched our children grow.

Following high school graduation, the mothers gathered four or five times during the school year to prepare care packages. Each mother brought five small gifts which we exchanged then mailed to our college student. These surprises contained candy and other treats, all expressions of love and care.

Following college, one by one, the children married and had babies. For each marriage and birth, the "circle of moms" gathered to make a quilt for the bride or new mother, which we presented at a shower for family and friends.

Making a quilt gave us the opportunity to come together, and piece our good wishes and blessings in a tangible form for these young couples and growing families. Just last week we gathered to present an eighth baby quilt to the newest grandchild among the group.

Making each quilt begins when we meet at the fabric store and choose the material. I am reminded of pioneer families who made quilts for their daughters and nieces. Often these young families left in covered wagons to explore unsettled territory and start homesteads. The stack of quilts that made the trip were reminders of love that followed their new beginnings. The children of our circle are heading out on their own journeys, and we're sending them off with our own reminders of love.

Years ago I saw the following phrase in a book of quilt patterns: "When this you see remember me." All of the families who have received quilts from the "circle of moms" have these words stitched into every quilt, a permanent record of love and affection from mothers who came together nearly twenty years ago through a connection at church and who continue to show love and support to our children.

Prayer: God, there are many ways you provide for us and one of those is through communion with each other. Our ties deepen when you are there and we become family to each other. Thank you for bringing us together, for the experiences we share, building memories to fill our hearts and bind us closer to you and each other. Amen.

The Strange Trajectory of One of My Favorite Books

I  first met my friend and writing teacher, Ann Kroeker, through her book, The Contemplative Mom - Restoring Rich Relationships with God in the Midst of Motherhood - published in 2000.

Ann's book is a helpful guide to navigating and nurturing intimacy with God while juggling the responsibilities of being a mother. The book was my favorite gift for many years to give friends or mothers-to-be when I attended a baby shower.

Several months ago, I was perusing through the Carmel Library used bookstore after my writing class with Ann. I noticed her book on one of the shelves. Pulling out the paperback copy, I could tell it had not been read because there was no crease on the cover. I opened the book to discover the following inscription:

          Jennifer (not her real name), Remember always to seek God as you raise your new baby. Love, Jacquie

I wrote the words eleven years ago to a friend's daughter who occasionally cared for Sarah and Anna when we lived in Vincennes. The daughter moved to Indianapolis after her marriage and when I was invited to her baby shower, I gave a copy of The Contemplative Mom.

I purchased the book from the library bookstore, sharing with Ann my discovery via email when I returned home.

Looking and the book and reading the inscription eleven years later left me disappointed. I chose with care and thoughtfulness a gift to nurture a young mother's faith as she adjusted to the shift in daily routine life with a newborn brings. I wanted so much to share Ann's suggestions in a book that is packed with easy ways to cultivate awareness of God's presence in the chaos of raising children. To find that new book, unused on the used shelf in the library bookstore was disheartening.

A few weeks later, I went to pick strawberries at Spencer's Farm near Noblesville. I look forward to these few weeks when I can rest on a straw-covered path and weave my hands in and out of plants, choosing the ripest berries. Picking can become meditative especially with a blue sky overhead and a cool breeze. I was clearly centered in God's presence that day as I went up and down my assigned row.

When my large cardboard tray was heaped to a peak, I paused one more time to inhale the experience before getting up. I heard two women talking to each other and to their children who were picking three rows over. One voice was familiar and I quickly realized it was Jennifer, the one to whom I gifted Ann's book. I last saw her a few years ago when I visited her following a death in her family.

I hardly knew what to do, especially since I had the copy of the book I gave her in my car.

Do I re-gift?

Do I say nothing"

Do I trust God to be at work in her life?

I didn't know if she would recognize me, although I thought with a few cues she probably would. I didn't want to embarrass her with a re-gift.. So I prayed that God would keep her close as she cared for her expanded family, knowing that perhaps there was another book guiding her walk with God.

Prayer: God, there are many ways we come to you, sometimes through gifts from others. We  develop our own style to increase familiarity and intimacy with you who created all often independently of books or readings. Guide all who love you and desire to serve in your name. Amen.

Pool Deck at the YMCA - A Place to Commune with Other Faith Traditions

Finishing the last lengths of my swim to complete a half mile, I did stretches while still in the water. I looked on the deck in front of me and saw a Muslim woman speaking out loud, reading from an iPad. I recognized Norah, having spoken to her before at the Fishers YMCA, so I jumped out of the water, grabbed my towel and gym bag, and walked over to the bench where she sat.

A burqa outlined her face and hands. "Are you praying?" I asked. She looked up with recognition, extended her hand and smiled.

"I've seen you before reading the Koran out loud. I admire the way you are public with your faith. I'm a Christian, but I don't carry my Bible wherever I go."

Putting aside her iPad, Norah replied, "I'm reading the Koran. We pray five times a day wherever we are. In such a busy life, we look to our great creator to remember our faith."

We chatted a few minutes. When her little boy finished swimming, I said good-bye and walked to the locker room. I never see anyone reading the Bible while their child or children have swim lessons. Norah's bold demonstration of her faith was inspiring.

Reflecting on my encounter later in the day, I focused on Norah's description of the importance of pausing and praying five set times during each day. This practice reminded me of the monastic ritual of praying the hours, something I did for many years especially during the time I worked at St. Vincent Hospital.

One day a week (I rotated the days; Monday, one week, Tuesday, the next, etc.) from the time I awakened until I went to bed, I remembered God at the beginning of every hour. At first, I looked at the clock often throughout the hour. However, as the day progressed, I  found "my soul took me to the hour" before I realized the time. My "day of the hours" as I called it, became a mini-retreat. Each day frequently ended with a new insight about my walk with God or with a deeper awareness of God's presence.

Pausing at the beginning of every hour was a way to stay centered in God as well as acknowledging that God was with me.

Here's an experiment. Choose a day to practice "a day of the hours." Select five times throughout your day to pause and pray. You may want to use these focused moments with God to pray for a decision or circumstances you are facing or for an individual about whom you care. Or you can use this time to direct your thoughts to God's presence surrounding you. Reminder alarms on watches and cell phones can assist if you desire.

We share similar practices of other faith traditions. Perhaps the terminology or sequence is different, but honoring common features can help build bridges and encourage understanding.

Prayer: God, you are the creator of all persons. We have more in common than differences. Help us learn from each other and befriend all. Amen.