Retreat Sunday: Kindness

I was so weary yesterday after I arrived in the mountains that I took an hour nap before dinner. I was asleep by 9 and didn’t get up until 7.30 this morning. My friend reminded me that sleep heals.

I decided to stay on the mountain today, resting, after I found a healing Eucharist on Wednesday that I can attend with the bonus of a nearby labyrinth walk. That will be my worship in community.

My morning was spent on the porch reading, knitting, writing, and listening to Heart and Voice.

Then I took a walk in the woods for quiet and for centering prayer.

All morning I was praying for our Dominican Republic Missioners; for Alan, our new Curate, as he and his family celebrate their first day as a clergy family; and for my St. Mary’s family as they worship and make Bags of Grace.

I was also pondering kindness. I’ve received so much kindness these past two months, and I have yet to write one note of thanks.

Last Sunday in my sermon, I had invited, no exhorted, the parish to be kind to those to whom it’s difficult to be kind. As for all of us who preach, I was reminding myself first of all.

Today I read a wonderful essay on kindness. I was reminded that the root of kind is kin; kind has the implication of treating others as kinfolk.

Since the flood, I’ve been hyperaware of when kindness is present, and when it’s absent. It’s the gift of kindness that brings me to tears these retreat days.

The kindness of friends opening their home and cooking me meals. The kindness of God’s sunrises to awaken me and breezes to cool the day. The kindnesses of others who send good prayers. The kindness of strangers’ smiles.

I read today that research indicates that centering prayer results in increased compassion which also leads to kindness. As I rest in God these retreat days, centering myself in God’s presence in prayer, may my own healing heart fill with compassion.

A week long retreat

As I sit at the airport, my flight to Punta Cana is on its way, taking 50 missioners from St. Mary’s, St. Dunstan’s, and Good Shepherd to do good work for God’s kingdom, except I’m not with them.

A year’s worth of challenges in the parish were capped by the Tax Day Flood which resulted in the loss of my car and most of my downstair’s belongings, and, with the counsel of people who know me best, I knew I wasn’t in the emotional shape to go on mission to the Dominican Republic. It was a difficult and disappointing decision.

Instead, I’m on retreat as I continue to heal. It’s hard to admit that I need care, and yet I do.

As I wait for the plane to take me to the mountains, I’m surrounded by groups in same colored tshirts with Jesus logos–code for we’re on God’s mission.

My mission this week is to pray. Be still. Listen. Rest. Find joy. As so much in the past two months, not the mission I want, but the path I’m on.

Psalm 108:1-2 My heart is firmly fixed, O God, my heart is fixed……Wake up, my spirit; I myself will waken the dawn.

Things to love about Iceland

Several people asked me why I wanted to go to Iceland. I saw a film made by Sigur Ros years ago called Heima and knew it was a place I wanted to visit.

Now that I’ve been, I can say exactly why:

The endless changing vistas of sights never before seen and not to be seen anywhere else on earth.

So many unique ecosystems within kilometers of another.

So many waterfalls that most don’t even have a name.

Landscapes as if the Trinity had a jolly good creative time.

The lupine–bluebonnets on steroids.

Mountains. Deserts. Oceans. Geysers. Glaciers. Iceberg lagoons.

Moss covered rocks. Black sand. Painted mountainsides.

Sheep. Black. White. Striped. Spotted. Frolicking lambs that come in pairs.

Colors in nature with unique brightness and hues and layers and textures.

Weather literally changing within seconds and minutes from snow to sun to rain to wind.

Reindeer and puffins.

Skyrr.

The bread.

Waffles for breakfast.

Chocolate squares served with hot drinks.

Espresso available in the most unlikely places.

Containers of water always on the table at meals

Water so pure that no one who lives here would think of buying bottled water.

Surprises of art, particularly murals and sculptures, in the most unexpected places.

The clear love of beauty expressed in the most quotidian details of everyday life.

Speaking of everyday life, the WC’s are the cleanest, warmest I’ve ever been in; even at camping grounds and gas stations, no matter how remote.

Wifi in every building. Generous placement of electric outlets.

People willing to speak English.

Since we only drove half the Ring Road, south and east and back, planned that way in order to get better May weather (which we did) and to be able to see where we’d been, and have a second chance to do and see, we’ve already talked about returning, this time going west and north.

But now, the trip home begins.

One rainy day of enough

It is my final full day in Iceland. Today is a road trip from Vik to KEF outside Reyjkavik–a three hour drive for most folks, but of course my friend and I love to meander.

It’s a rainy day. This is the weather we expected, but today is the first day we’ve had this much rain. Less hiking, less photographing, but still enough.

Despite the rain, we made two quick walks to stunning waterfalls. Enough.

In this land of plenteous sheep, yarn is the only bargain (except, of course, God’s artwork). I even found yarn in the grocery store! Still enough.

This is the first day that I found what I had expected to find everywhere–local yarn, hand spun and hand dyed. Yet more enough.

I’d also expected, in this land of frequent and abundant art in the most unlikely places, to find (too) many opportunities for my favorite craft, pottery. The small amount I found was very dear. Today, however, at a morning cappacino stop in a small town, I found my Iceland cup to bring home. Thank you to the parishioner who gave me a gift of money for my trip that enabled me to do this. Generously enough.

We stopped for a late lunch in Selfoss at the kind of spot I expected to find often, and have only today found. A place with soup and bread and hot tea and locals gathering. Deliciously enough.

Six hours after we began our three hour drive to the airport hotel, the GPS says that it’s little over an hour drive left to go.

I’ll see how much more enough there is before we arrive at tonight’s destination.