A Day to Simply Be

Time does not change us. It just unfolds us.
~ Max Frisch

As I was proofing this blog about a day of rest, I was struck by how often I had used the word spent, as in spent the day, spent the morning, spent the afternoon, spent the evening. What is it about time that curries words like waste, use up, deplete, kill, exhaust?  There have to be better words for how we live our days.  They aren’t to be ticked away but savored and experienced and notated.  

So.

 A wholehearted day of perfect weather on Tybee Island, and my friend and I decided to travel no farther than a mile away to North Beach– a day of lolling on an island. Bliss. 

The morning was not spent but lazed wholeheartedly in my little house on the marsh reading, writing, listening to music, and chitchatting. 

The afternoon was not spent but sauntered wholeheartedly walking on the beach, capping it off praying vesper prayers from Daily Prayers for All Seasons as folks strolled past.  Praying in public indeed. 

The evening was not spent but abided joyfully watching and laughing to Getting On, a very funny comedy about a geriatric unit of a hospital. Ice cream eating was included in the festivities. 
The sunset gift wrapped the day in God’s beauty. 
Time is a game played beautifully by children.
~ Heraclitus

A Miracle Indeed

(A little introduction is required by way of rereading yesterday’s blog, please…….)

The journey to Savannah, Georgia, and my vacation, or is it retreat, on Tybee Island continues:

Yesterday at the airport, after five hours of waiting for a plane, just as I was leaving the terminal to walk to the gate where my detour flight to Columbia, South Carolina was boarding in about an hour, I heard announced, “The 9 AM flight to Savannah is now boarding.”

I raced to the gate where my United agent friend was standing. “Can I change my ticket back to my original flight?”  Of course!  As he hurriedly typed in my sixth boarding pass for the day, I asked him what had happened. He gave me a big smile and said, “It’s a miracle!” 
I still don’t know exactly what happened, except that they finally found a crew and that the plane itself probably needed to get to Savannah or a bunch more flight dominoes were not going to fall.  
The kind agent had seated me in the exit row (woo hoo!), and once we finally took off, except for some bumps, it was an easy flight. 
I thought about the twists and turns of the day–all too frequent, it seems, when I try to get to the people who are important in my life (last week my road trip to see my mom for her birthday had to be cancelled because of icy roads). As I listened to the playlist that contained the songs that the folks in my small group at the Daring Way conference had shared as the music that helps them be courageous, I found myself tearing up again and again–tears being the sign of the presence of Christ, after all.  
I thought about the kindnesses I’d experienced in the twists and turns of the day. A friend who graciously detoured three times on her own long road trip from the mountains of Georgia to Savannah no to Columbia no back to Savannah.  Two gate agents who with humor and care had done their best to make a bad situation better.  Of smart phones and apps which made things a little easier.  Of knitting and music and interesting things to read. That I knew that eventually I’d get to where I needed to be.
I remembered earlier in the day when I’d offered the gate agents a blessing and we’d had a brief, public theophany. 
And then when I landed in Savannah later than planned, but still with time to walk the beach before dark, an email from United with a big apology and a $50 credit towards my next flight. 
A miracle indeed. 

Tybee time: A Vacation or Retreat?

Every year during Lent I travel to Tybee Island, Georgia, a very quiet beach town outside Savannah. Although I consider it a vacation, somehow it seems to always end up on the parish calendar as a retreat. 

Truth is, it is a vacation. Truth is, it’s a retreat  
My best friend will pick me up at the Savannah airport in her blue Miata convertible then we’ll drive into town for coffees, lunch, and provisions. Vacation. 
Listening to great music, we’ll drive along the marsh and over bridge after bridge till we’re on a sleepy little island. We’ll unload the car and then walk to the beach for our first walk with colors of beige and blue and gray. Retreat. 
What’s the difference?  I’m not actually certain. I’ll use vacation days for this time apart but there will be lots of walking and quiet and pondering and reading and praying and creating and rest.  There will be movies and laughter and conversation. And wonderful surprises. 
Vacation. Retreat. God time. 
Boarding soon.  Or. Maybe not. 
Sigh. For the third time in a year, a flight has been cancelled due to lack of crew. Now seated at Starbuck’s with my food voucher–purchased yogurt and water, now waiting to catch a flight to Columbia SC. My best option on a fogged in day. 
Gave a blessing to a very kind gate agent, and came out of the closet as a priest (thankfully hadn’t been as cranky as the folks in front of me). 
Not a vacation yet. Not a retreat for sure. But thankful that God is here. 

Getting ready for Lent: Living Wholehearted


From the daily email, Brother, Give us a word (SSJE), the word for today: 

It’s no wonder that Jesus’ family was concerned about him. By his actions he was showing that principles which most people value above everything else – security, safety, and a good reputation in the eyes of others – meant nothing to him. How counter-cultural is that?

-Br. David Vryhof

What I’m learning this week are other words for counter-cultural–like whole-hearted;  as from the words of our confession when we pray, we have not loved you with our whole heart.  

I am praying this week to be open hearted in order that I may truly live whole heartedly. We’re learning this is about being vulnerable, being courageous, taking risks, and accepting and expecting the possibility of failure. 

Show up.   Be seen.  Live brave.