I am a retired Episcopal priest after serving over thirty years in Diocese of Texas and a Benedictine Oblate of Our Lady of Grace Monastery in Beech Grove, Indiana. I'm also an eighth generation Texan. My daughter, The Homesick Texan, has moved back home to Texas. My son and his wife live in Bend, Oregon, with my two grandsons who call me Grandma Texas.
January 25 is my thirty-first anniversary of priestly ordination. Celebrating it in Bentonville with my best friend felt perfect.
She was at my ordination, and we became friends soon afterwards. I walked through the day recalling “this time 31 years ago, I was…….” Some tears were shed.
At a celebratory breakfast, “31 years ago, I was sitting at St. Dunstan’s with my parents folding the worship booklets. My dad would read a lesson that night in the service.” Kinfolk.
During our visit to Crystal Bridges, I had so many opportunities to recall all the kinfolk who were there that day and have since shaped these thirty one years.
A new exhibit of two artists (Toshiku Takaezu and Lenore Tawney) who shared their lives through letters and became close friends, inspiring one another’s work was especially insightful. Part of their artistic friendship was sharing recipes. Kinfolk.
As a female priest, honoring the value of what is considered woman’s work is a good place to rest. Toshiku wrote, “In my life I see no difference between making pots, cooking and growing vegetables.” Lenore encouraged “following the path of the heart.”
The museum has several places where they encourage guests to create their own art. In one room, there was place to sit and draw one’s emotions. My drawing expressed how I feel celebrating thirty one years of priesthood. It is incomplete—I am not done yet.
Joining me at the art table were three young women who were full of laughter and conversation with one another. They were a musical backdrop. Kinfolk.
As we walked to dinner, my friend continued to listen to my rambling and reminiscences of that ordination day. She had chosen to treat me to dinner at a church building repurposed as a restaurant called The Preacher’s Son. The meal was beyond delicious, but it was my friend’s kind toast to the years of ministry that brought the tears.
There was room left for a slice of passion fruit pie to share. Kinfolk.
Kinfolk are usually considered to be members of one’s family—no matter how distant the relative. What makes kinfolk kinfolk is that we share a common ancestor.
From a theological perspective, since we are all created by God in God’s image, that makes the circle of kinfolk beyond our measure of imagination. It would seem, to me, we are all kinfolk.
My best friend and are on a lark to Bentonville, Arkansas, to one of our favorite museums, Crystal Bridges. Annie Lebowitz is the guest artist in residence, and we are here for her exhibit.
Last night we drove to Fayetteville for a one night showing of A Case for Love. It has a definite Episcopal presence (and funding) and is inspired by the words of Presiding Bishop Curry. It invites people to do intentional acts of love for thirty days. Perhaps that could mean thirty days of looking at and treating all we meet as kinfolk—in loving ways.
I’m walking this lark in a mindfully loving way—or trying to do so. Beginning the practice in this place of smiles and unabashed friendliness makes it an easier start. It’s also easier to take a little more time to kindly respond to people when on a slow time trip—travels no further than the hotel to coffee to the museum. Most of that is done by walking, so that all makes the connection easier.
To paraphrase a common phrase, I’m doing my best to take the loving way by walking—eyes open for kinfolk along the way.
A jaunt is a journey taken for pleasure. It can be short or less short; it can be an excursion or a walk or even a ride; jaunts especially thrive in open air. I love the overarching emphasis of a jaunt being rooted in joy or pleasure. Don’t we all need a little more of that?
Tuesday evening my best friend and I made a jaunt outside of Taos to our friends Abby’s and Dean’s house for dinner. They are both gifted artists, and visiting their home is like being in an art gallery.
Dean creates mainly in wood, and his latest work is sculpting landscapes. We had a deep conversation about his creation process which includes walking the terrain and deep contemplation of space. As God would have it, one of his latest works was inspired by the jaunt we planned to drive the next day.
Driving that snow road, after being immersed in Dean’s art, gave it a whole new experience. I was both inside God’s creation and a piece of art.
Wednesday’s jaunt included one through one of my favorite museums, The Harwood.
The huge snow storm on Thursday limited the jaunting to the wood pile for more wood for the fire.
Friday and Saturday’s jaunts were the twist and turn travel to the Albuquerque airport for our flights back to Georgia and Texas.
It included two more meals with two more friends, one last visit to our favorite coffee place, and discovering a new favorite coffee spot near the ABQ airport.
Jaunts can be taken alone (never, of course really alone because there is our accompanying God), but this Epiphany jaunt was even better because of the companionship of a jaunting friend.
House of Grace 