Featured

Ordinary Time: Y is for Yellow

It’s fall in northern New Mexico. This part of creation has decided that yellow will be the color of the season.

The yellow cottonwood tree greeting us for lunch at the Rancho de Chimayó as three long time friends gather for blue corn enchiladas and sopapillas with honey and conversation about times past and times future.

The yellow of trees and rainbows outside the window on the High Road drive from Chimayo to Taos.

The yellow of chimisa laughing with delight before it rests for the winter in muted colors.

The yellow of Trujillo Lane as we drive to our casita outside downtown Taos.

The yellow carpet that waits for us as we carry our groceries into the house.

The pine tree that invited some cottonwood tree leaves to sit a spell so she could wear some yellow, too.

The aspens that welcome my own sitting a spell in the back yard of the casita.

+++++++++++++++

Brother Curtis, in his devotion today for the Society of St. John the Evangelist entitled, Look, writing:

When you pray, how do you use your body? My default when I pray has been to close my eyes and be very still and silent. But my prayer has greatly enlarged as I open my senses and let the world that surrounds me be an icon.

Today I look, and my icon for prayer is God’s creation putting on yellow and praising the One from whom all blessings flow.

AMEN

Eastertide

Eastertide travel has begun:

Sewanee, Tennessee

Chattanooga, Tennessee

Kingwood, Texas

Sugarland, Texas

And now Baltimore, Maryland, on my way to my

Seventh! Trip! To! Iceland!

My first trip was in 2016, just days after my home flooded in the Tax Day flood.

My second trip was in 2017, only days after Hurricane Harvey, and my newly restored home had flooded. Again. The parish where I was serving encouraged me not to plan another trip to Iceland.

My third trip, 2018, entitled, “Not Iceland,” were shorter stays bookending my first visit to the Faroe Islands.

The fourth trip, 2021, was another bookend to my return visit to the Faroes.

The fifth trip, 2022, was the one where I learned about Icelandic hospitals as my trip home was delayed due to Covid.

The sixth trip, 2024, was the one where my flight from Chicago to Keflavik was cancelled after a lengthy delay, and a new way had to be found two days later out of Minneapolis on a different airline.

I’m waiting for my very best traveling friend to meet me here in Baltimore. Our flight to Iceland leaves this evening. Of course, it being Iceland, nothing is certain until it actually happens.

But somehow, it’s always wonderful.

Lent Two: A time to mourn

It was heart-tumbling to hear that we are at war, again, as I drove past the Pentagon on my way to Arlington National Cemetery and the Women’s Military Memorial to serve as the clergy presence at the celebration of life of my beloved cousin Colonel Patricia Ann Hess Jernigan.

My cousin, Pat, died on the Feast of the Epiphany. There are few women for whom I have greater respect. The celebration of life was put together by her huge community of women veterans. The final internment of her cremains will be in over a year at Arlington National Cemetery. Sadly, there are many deceased veterans and those killed in action ahead of her.

We gathered in DC on Friday and had an evening with family that was full of story telling and tears and laughter and even first steps of one of the youngest members of our family.

The day of the service we met at Arlington National Cemetery, going through security, and then taking the short walk to the Women’s Military Memorial. Our first view inside was of Pat’s photo and military biography which was featured at the entrance to the museum.

I don’t have enough words in my vocabulary to express the emotions I experienced as six remarkable women veterans told stories about the extraordinary impact that Pat had on our nation’s freedom. With even more accounts from family and friends during the open mike, our time of honoring Pat lasted nearly two hours.

My conversations with Pat in the last few years, such a woman of integrity and truth, had grounded our talks about the state of the current goings on in our country. As a woman who had served our country with such generosity, her perspective mattered greatly to me.

As I fly back home today, taxing and lifting off past the Capital building, the Washington Monument, and the National Cathedral, my heart is full.

Mourning with my family and the extraordinary women who have served faithfully at the loss of a woman who epitomized the best American values.

Grieving wholeheartedly the decisions being made by the leaders of our country which are contrary to those best American values.

Grateful for the laughter and conversation with my beloved family.

Knowing that my hope is in God. And God alone.

Lent One: A Wilderness Day

My best friend and I are back in Miami for our second year of attending Unrivaled, the women’s professional basketball 3 on 3 league.

After a rousing good time on Friday night watching two games, we got up on Saturday for a trip to Key West.

We were out the door just after 9, and our routing said we’d be there in less than four hours.

But it was us, traveling companions for over thirty years, and we’ve learned that almost everything takes us twice as long.

Because first there was a stop for coffee and breakfast.

And then there was lots of traffic.

And then a second stop for some more refreshment at a place where no one spoke English. Always good to be reminded of what it feels like not to be part of a dominant culture.

And then lots and lots more traffic.

And then a stop for a late lunch.

And then another major traffic jam.

And by then it was nearly six in the evening.

It had been a wilderness kind of day sitting in the car. In so much traffic. And it was hot. We were honestly tired and cranky. Even though it wasn’t actually that much of a wilderness day because we were in an air conditioned car, and we had been pokey because of stops for provisions.

After a short drive through Key West (yay! we made it in only eight hours), by *happenstance* we made it to the southern most point of the United States. Just in time for the Vesper Light. Without the wilderness-ish drive, we would have missed this moment.

After immersing ourselves in the prayer-filled sunset, we drove to our motel for the night on another of the Keys. We were exhausted.

We decided to leave early the next day to avoid some of the traffic caused by special events.

We’d arrived after dark, and so we had no real sense of exactly where we were. *Something* had me open the curtains as we packed up to go.

It was like a scene from one of my favorite movies, The Enchanted April. After a difficult rainy and dark journey to a villa in Italy, one of the travelers wakes up and opens the window and is met with the most extraordinary view of a sun- filled luscious garden. Never could she have imagined.

I opened the curtains, the first Sunday in Lent, and there was a wildlife preserve outside my door. Bathed in sunrise.

We were only in this very 60’s Floridian hotel because a priest friend of my best friend had suggested it. It was the most economical place we had been able to find.

We were only up before sunrise because of the wilderness drive the day before that we wanted to avoid in our return. It was a “but wait—there’s more moment” of a God who always makes beauty in a wilderness, that surprises us, and for which we cannot plan.

It was a perfect place to start for a Holy Lent.

Advent One: A Five State Tour

I’m on my way to Oregon for Jonas’ #13 by way of Washington, DC. I’ve gotten almost as many great comments about this itinerary as I did for my lark to Seattle last month for Patti Smith’s 50th anniversary tour of her first album, Horses. Ah. Retirement adventures!

Two of my dearest cousins live in Virginia and have some serious health issues. Both decorated veterans, their declining health is very likely exposure to Agent Orange while serving in Vietnam.

I’d wanted to visit them for some time but one thing and another had interfered. When detouring to Oregon via DC turned out to be easy money wise, I thought why not? They’d been on my heart during my prayer time so it felt like a holy nudge.

Thursday I flew to DC and then did a ride share on Friday to their home in Virginia. The area had an unexpected early snow which made the world full of wonder for this Texas girl. Snow infrastructure in place, roads were clear.

I spent the morning with one cousin while my other cousin went to one of her frequent doctor’s appointments. He and I had great conversation and did some processing of the many challenges in their lives. Tears were frequent.

I made us a stew for lunch from food provided by their weekly helper. The conversation around the table was even more warm and delicious than the comforting bowls of stew on a snowy day.

Right as we finished lunch, another friend stopped by with cardamon cookies. She is helping them with their upcoming move into assisted living and their end of life decisions. More deep conversation followed.

After a final conversation with my cousin as she rested from the full day, we ended with healing prayers. And more tears.

As I rode back to the hotel surrounded by snow covered trees, I was grateful for over forty years of sitting with people in life-changing circumstances. In this retirement season, using those experiences and learnings with those I love was a gift from God.

Not to say—Snow!!!!