Epiphany: J is for Jaunt

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.

Blends with Friends

Epiphany: I is for Impossible

One of my early life verses was the angel’s reply to Mary at the Annunciation, “For nothing is impossible with God.” (Luke 1.37)

I love that reframing of impossible. Especially on days that things seem less than possible.

Yesterday we awoke to a winter wonderland—such a wonderland that even the schools in Taos closed. Thinking that it would be impossible to leave, we took stock of our provisions. Raisins. Cheese. Bread. Milk. Coffee. Nuts. And then we remembered three Kind bars, and then I opened a door to the Casa’s tiny pantry, and there was oatmeal and pasta and chicken broth and mac and cheese. We had electricity and water, and we were set with more than enough.

Later the streets began to be plowed and sanded, and so we were able to get out. Of course, my best friend did have to use the supplies we had available—a fireplace brush and dish towels—to help back out the car.

A few miles down the road, we got stuck in a snow drift, and our efforts made it seem impossible to get out. Almost immediately, not one or two but three people stopped to help us back to a safer place.

Now even more careful where we drove, we stopped for a late meal and intentionally parked where we were sure we’d be able to pull out. However, we soon found out that the snow drifts and ice made it almost impossible to walk into the restaurant. Yet again, a car stopped and the driver got out and offered to accompany us safely into the pub.

Every morning I pray, “Good morning, God. This is your day. I am your child. Please show me your way.”

I am reminded of God’s way—the reframing of impossible: Possible in not the way I may expect, but possible in God’s way. Part of God’s impossible way is the way that God gives us eyes to see our enough. Another part of that impossible way is through the kind actions of the neighbors God gives us.

Once again, Thanks, God.

Epiphany: H is for Home

Since I retired, I have been away more than I have been in my house. This means that I have been rethinking what home means.

I’ve written a lot about being a peripatetic worshipper these past four years, and particularly now that I’m on the retired road. I’ve wrestled with and pondered what church means when I am a guest or worker when I attend. What does it mean to not have an ongoing commitment to a church community—which is part of what having a church home means to me.

I make regular financial commitments to support a variety of worshipping communities. Home is more than money. I also have ongoing financial commitments to groups whose purpose I support—ministries of feeding and supporting women and children.

Home has a sense of some sort of familiarity. Home has a sense of a place where peace can be found. Home has a sense of rootedness that doesn’t depend on location or a certain amount of time. It has a sense of commitment regardless of how long I am present there.

Today on this first Sunday after the Epiphany I am in Taos.

Home is sitting in front of the fire for centering prayer and contemplative reading.

Home is drinking a hot beverage in my favorite coffee place with my best friend as I write this blog.

Home is my friend and I praying vesper prayers sitting with a winter sunset.

I (we) can be a viator (a wayfarer, a traveler) and still be home.

Nadia Bolz-Weber wrote about the belonging we automatically receive because whoever we are, wherever we are, we are beloved of God:

A love that is yours quite apart from what you do or don’t do. The kind of love that breaks your heart and then makes it bigger, A love that creates belovedness in the one it rests upon.

So, Beloveds… Be loved. Just sit and be loved. Even if it hurts. Just sit and be loved and be the beloved of God. Because that is who you already are. Amen.

Is this belovedness home?

Perhaps home is about being as present as we are able, wherever we are, in our place of belovedness of God. Granted, some places are easier to be home than others. But home is always as near as our sitting within our belovedness in God.

Christmastide: G is for

9th day of Christmas: which G word to choose?

1. Generous.

2. Grateful.

3. Grandsons.

4. Grace.

5. Gratitude.

6. Good.

7. Grand.

8. God.

9. Giving.

9 words for 9 days of Christmas. 🎄

My Christmas visit in Oregon was even more lovely than I’d expected. My family offered the same generous hospitality they always do and more!

There was lots of cooking including raspberry and blueberry bars, sourdough bread, and Chambersville black eyed peas. Good. Grand.

My time with my grandsons was full of joy. A special gift was Jonas cooking dinner for me on Saturday night while the rest of the family was elsewhere. Grateful. Giving.

There was lots of simply hanging together time. Got to love a family that likes to read on New Year’s Eve. Gratitude.

Now waiting at the airport for the beginning of my trip home.

My heart is full of gratitude to a good and generous God that gives me more than I can ask or imagine. Grace.