The Summer's End (Lowcountry Summer Book 3) by Mary Alice Monroe

     The Summer's End is the 3rd book in the Lowcountry tiology. The series tells the story of 3 half sisters drawn back to the grandmother's summer home on Sullivan's Island, SC. Mamaw and her housekeeper companion, Lucille, are hoping to cement the young women's friendship as well as lure them back to the Lowcountry. 
While each book can stand alone, it is much more rewarding to read them in order and fully understand the back story as you move to the next book.
In book 3, The women are struggling with the death of Lucille, Mamaw's impending move to an assisted living home, and, the sale of her beloved home, Sea Breeze. Dora is moving to her own home in order to enroll her son in a special school for children with autism. Carson is coming to term with her pregnancy and how to proceed with her life as a single mother, and Harper is struggling with wanting to be a writer and falling under the thumb of her mother to return to New York and her mother's publishing firm as an editor.
This is a romance novel, a call for environmental responsibility, a shout out to a more relaxed time and place, and a coming of age novel. Ms. Monroe has created full-body characters, a setting that is beautiful and challenging, and a story that is entertaining as well as intelligent. More than just a good summer read, this series leads you through the lives and loves of 5 interesting women. I highly recommend with 5 stars.

Spirituality

Spirituality

10/26/13
Finding My Identity In Christ

My Identity In Christ

On Sunday, Oct 13, 2013, I was listening to the NPR program Ted Radio Hour. The topic was Identities. There were excerpts from 4 Ted Talks. The link for this program is: http://www.npr.org/2013/10/06/229879937/identities.

There are several themes that caught my attention: At the end of my essay, I have highlighted the most pertinent sentences for me from each speaker in this program, and, I have included surrounding material to help give my highlights context. Please goe to the page: Spirituality to read the entire article.

The Life of Freedom

Please check out my Spirituality page for my latest post. please use these links to comment or ask questions.

As is true with all comments, I will not post comments or questions that are abusive, use foul language or mean-spirited. This is a place to play nice. ;-)

The Orphan Master's Son: A Review

The Orphan Master's Son, by Adam Johnson, is one of the most compelling books I have ever read. It is the story of a man's journey from childhood throughout his entire life. It is a story of North Korea in the recent past. It is a story of evil, brutality, the human need to connect with others, the meaning of love, and ultimate triumph.
This book is not for the faint of heart. In it, unspeakable atrocities are described in vivid detail. What is more disturbing to me, is the cold determination of the abusers, and their ability to justify what they do in the name of loyalty and national security. It makes me weep for the slippery slope we have embarked upon in our own country. Photos of our own soldiers torturing and humiliating captured "enemies" too often came to mind.

But Mr. Johnson is a master storyteller, weaving glimpses of hope, humanity, and even love, into the story so that one is compelled to continue. I began to feel I was in the story, and it was very hard to put it down to do mundane things like laundry, grocery shopping, and cooking dinner. It is easy to see why he won a Pulitzer prize for this book.  The picture of North Korean life reinforced my gratitude for living in this wonderful country, but it also highlighted areas where we have so much to improve: the poverty and lack of decent education of so many of our citizens, the high rate of people incarcerated compared to the rest of the Western world, and the level of violence in our country. There are large areas of our country where people live with just as much fear and despair as the citizens of North Korea. This book has compelled me to do more to work toward improvement here at home.
I highly recommend this book, but warn that it is not an "easy" read. I had to pray constantly as I read; for the millions (billions?) of people throughout the world for whom the life described is a reality, for the wisdom to see whatever part I play in creating this awful reality, and for the courage to work toward peace and safety for all.

Fear of Aging

I had a very vivid dream last night, so vivid I wanted to call my friend and make sure she wasn't really angry with me. Let me explain:


Grandma Stengl 1955

In my dream one of my best friends had hired me to help her with a PR project for her business. We had discussed the possibility a few times, but I was now "officially" meeting with her to get started.
She mentioned an idea we had floated at an earlier discussion, and I could remember none of the details. I asked her to refresh my memory, and she was rather short with me, saying something to the effect that had our pervious meetings been a waste of time. I was taken aback since we usually got along very well. I chalked it up to her having a bad day. But as we proceeded, it became obvious we had gone into a lot of detail in our previous chats, and I remembered none of it. My friend ended up walking away in disgust.
And then I woke up.
After my first thought that I needed to call my friend for reassurance, I realized how foolish that was, and, began to think about what it meant to me. It was all very obvious. My friend represented my competent, professional self, and I represented my current fears. I have been having greater and greater memory problems. I can't think of common, everyday words several times a day. I have always been bad with names of people I only see occasionally, but now it is happening with people I know well but don't see very often.
I have a fairly deep fear of developing dementia. I can't imagine the hell it must be for a productive person to gradually forget how to do things and who people are. My biggest, deepest fear is that I would lose my relationship with God and not recognize His presence with me or experience His comfort any more. And I certainly do not want to lose touch with my family and friends. ANd I don't want to put them through the heart-wrenching experience of my body still being present but the person they know and love not being there anymore.
My current walking program is partly to help stave off dementia as long as possible. I know I have good genes. My grandmother was alert and mentally "present" until a few days before her death. Pretty much the same with my mother. My dad died very young (52), but his mother lived into her 90's and still recognized her children when she died. So Alzheimer's does not run in the family. But I also know that physical and mental activity help decrease the chances of developing dementia.
It is my spiritual fear that runs the deepest. I do not want to let fear run my life, so I keep asking God for faith to believe He will be with me no matter where my life turns. And I am comforted by that, because I know there has never been a moment in my life thus far where He has abandoned me; even in those times when I didn't "feel" His presence, I knew on a deeper level that He was there. I am going to trust that this will be true until I take my dying breath. And then, I will be with Him!

To Dream or Not to Dream

About a week ago, I woke up with a strong sense that my next life project was to open a bookstore here in the artsy community in southern Arizona where I live part-time (for now!). I have been praying for over a year for clarity about what I am to do with my life once we move here full-time. I went back to school at age 30, after my two children were born, and then I worked as a therapist/counselor/group home director for the next 28 years. Two years ago, I "retired". I was burned out physically and emotionally. (another long story for another day).

All that is to say that I was a bit dumbfounded when the idea of a bookstore came to mind. I love books. I read everyday as much as I possibly can. When I am near the end of a book, I lose sleep finishing it before I close my eyes. I become wrapped up in the lives of the characters, and I often become the protagonist in my mind.

My love of books came from my mother. She was an English teacher by training and vocation (in her later years), and our home was covered in books and magazines. There was a floor-to-ceiling corner bookcase in our dining room filled with books, and there was a half-size book case in the corner of our living room filled with paperback books, magazines and our beloved World Book Encyclopedia. 

When my husband and I had our first child, my mother always bought books for him. And as he grew older, she would read to him. She bought beautiful illustrated books on the animal and insect kingdoms, story books about whatever topic was occupying his attention at the time.

I began taking our son to the library from the time he was born. In those early years, I was the one checking out books, but as he grew older, he began to attend story hour and choose several books to take home. As soon as he was able to print his name, he was able to get his own library card. it was a celebrated day in our home.

In the early years of our marriage, Ted and I could not afford to but books, but as his status in the work place increased, I began to frequent used bookstores and library sales in order to buy books of my own. From the time I went back to school, Ted and I have each had our own study in our home. Mine began to fill with bookcases and books. Ted had 1 bookcase for every three of mine.

As the kids grew older, Ted and I began to travel more, buying a time-share vacation home, and escaping to the sunshine and warmth of Mexico each year. We would take 1/2 a suitcase filled with books for our vacation reading. It became really problematic when we traveled to Europe and our suitcase weight was always too high. I was ecstatic when e-readers became available. For the last 8 years, we traveled with so much less luggage!

So the idea of a bookstore has deep roots in my psyche', but I have never actually considered it before. It seems a strange answer to my prayers about how I can minister and best serve the Lord at this time in my life.

But when I think of a bookstore, I think of cozy reading corners, a group room where book clubs can meet, a literary community center. I can also bring in books to sell that encourage people to think about their purpose in life, how to take better care of themselves, physically, spiritually and emotionally. I can have books that are FUN in order to bring more laughter into the world, and, of course, books for young readers and young adults that can fuel their desire to learn and grow!

So, I am beginning a journey to educate myself on what it would take to open and run a bookstore. I have no idea if this will actually happen, but I feel confident that for now, this is what I need to do. 

Joseph Campbell coined the phrase, "Follow your bliss", and lately I have heard so many people say that you need to occupy your life with work that you love. I loved being a counselor. For the last year, i have tried to image what type of counseling setting I should pursue here in AZ. Nothing grabbed my attention. But the idea of this bookstore has ignited my heart and mind, filled me with energy and excitement for the first time in a long time. May-be as I educate myself on becoming a bookstore owner, God will take me off in a tangential direction. I am open to being led and educated by the One who controls the universe.

Sharing Our Burdens With God - Lenten Journey

It has been over a month since I last made an entry here. A lot has happened. I was supposed to leave for AZ on Feb 5th, but became very ill and had to postpone my trip until the following Monday. I was still weak and rested most of the first week in AZ.

Then Ted, my husband, and his sister and brother-in-law arrived for a week long visit. Elisa and Randy participated in the Old Lost Dutchman Mine marathon in Apache Junction, AZ, near Phoenix. We had a beautiful weekend there and all traveled back to Tubac, only to be met by cold and periods of rain and some snow. 
I had a few days to clean up and prepare for a friend who came for a week's visit, and is leaving later today. So I have had little time to write.

So where do I begin? The most emotion-filled moment in this past month occured on Ash Wednesday. I attended a women's Bible study from church, and as part of our opening worship, was asked to read a passage from the Presbyterian Women's "Minute for Missions" devotional book.

Wednesday, February 13
Minute for Mission: Ash Wednesday

Our pastor passed out small pieces of paper and pencils as we gathered around a table at the front of the sanctuary. On the table were a large bowl, a small container of ashes, and a flask of oil. We sang and prayed in the candlelight, calling the Holy Spirit into our midst. Then our pastor asked us to consider what burdens we had come into God’s presence carrying. What burdens of anger, pain, or disappointment might be keeping us from being able to follow in Christ’s footsteps? He asked us to write these burdens on our pieces of paper and to pray over them.The burden that came to my mind was my inability to forgive a friend who had hurt me. I knew that the grudge I was holding was keeping me from fullness of life in Christ. I prayed that God would forgive me for my hard-heartedness and allow me to release my hurt and anger. I had to free myself from the desire to judge my friend and allow God to show mercy to us both. As I prayed, I realized that this would be my Lenten journey: to learn to empty out my tendency to judge and allow my heart to be filled with compassion.The pastor lit a small flame by the bowl and invited us to burn our papers in the flame and drop them into the bowl. As each one of us allowed the flames to consume our burdens, they fell together into the bottom of the bowl. Silently our pastor mixed these ashes with the palm ashes from the container and oil from the flask. As we received the ashes on our foreheads, I was keenly aware that in this mark of Christ each of us was carrying a small part of each other’s burdens. No longer separated from Christ by them, and united in Christ with each other, we began our Lenten journey.—Cynthia Reggio, M.Div., Union Theological Seminary in the City of New York, 2012

I am generally not one who becomes easily tearful, but I had difficulty finishing reading this entry. I was touched by simple ritual that gave a concrete expression to deep feelings of guilt and shame and a way to redeem the feelings by giving them to God.

But there was clearly something much deeper being touched in me personally.

After three weeks of reflection, I have thought about two memories. The first one has to do with the burden Cynthia Reggio, the author, shared. In the late 70's, my husband and I were part of a house church. The group was very different in background and life experience than Ted and I, and there were frequently times when I felt overwhelmed. I knew that God had led us to this group, and I knew that there was much that God wanted to teach us, but sometimes I wondered if I would survive emotionally.

On one level, I deeply loved each person in the fellowship. They were all very giving, caring people. They worked to share God's Gospel with our immediate community, with our city and with the world.

But there were personality clashes of immense magnitude as well. My frustration and anger were often piqued, and I often felt deeply hurt. Much of this frustration was focused on one particular woman. I didn't know how to interact with her without getting angry, and yet we were working together on a ministry that I felt called to contribute. So many times I prayed for the ability to forgive and let go of the hurt I felt. I spent a lot of time praying that God would change the other woman, but of course, little happened until I started praying that God would change me. Thirty-five years later, I can still remember the deep hurt, the sense of abandonment by God, and then the miraculous healing I experienced once I started asking God to change and heal me.

The other memory evoked by this reflection occurred in the early 90's when I was working at a women's residential addictions recovery program. We actually did a similar exercise. I couldn't structure it as a religious exercise, but I invited the women to write on a slip of paper the one thing for which they felt most guilty about their addiction. We then went outside, and I took an iron skillet from the kitchen and invited each woman to give her burden to her Higher Power, and burn the paper to symbolize that it had been lifted from them.

It was an incredibly sacred moment as each woman burned her piece of paper in the skillet. A few shared what they had written, but most did not. I encouraged them to write about how they felt participating in this ceremony. The next day several women brought their journals and shared what they had written. Many women shared feeling "clean" and "purged from sin" and "forgiven". It was a major turning oint for several women in their road to recovery.

So I ask you, when has God met you in a difficult time and led you to healing and renewal. Lent is an excellent time to reflect on these moments of rebirth that God scatters throughout our lives.

Before I Was Formed, God Knew

Today's meditation in Disciplines is JEREMIAH 1:4-10, where God tells Jerimiah, 

“Before I shaped you in the womb,
    I knew all about you.
Before you saw the light of day,
    I had holy plans for you:
A prophet to the nations—    that’s what I had in mind for you.” 

This scripture brought back strong memories I have of God being present with me when I was a very small child, some of which I was still in my crib. I have since come to realize that few people have these types of memories, at least in our culture. Historically Gaelic cultures acknowledge these types of "God awareness" memories in small child, and the "thin places" between this world and seeing God face to face. 

I certainly went through some periods of anger with God (when my father died), and some periods of questioning God's existence (especially during pretty severe postpartum depression after my second child was born). But for the most part, I sought God's Presence throughout my life.

I have always found it comforting when I come across scriptures that remind me that God has known me even before I was born. I am comforted my hearing that God has given me gifts and ministries before I was even born. My frustration has been that God doesn't always easily reveal WHAT I am being called to do and WHERE I am supposed to do it.

Two years ago i retired from my work here in PA, in preparation for moving to AZ, and, because I was burning out physically and emotionally at my job. After two years of preparing our PA home for sale, and setting up our AZ home, I feel more ready to become involved in ministry again. I don't know if God will give me a new job, or have me do volunteer work, but I want to get more involved again. ANd I feel this desire is being stirred in my heart by God.

I do not know what my future holds, but I know that I am in God's hands. I am in a waiting and watching stance, one of my least favorite. I want to "know" what my future holds. But in not knowing the details, I am forced to watch intently for God's movement in my life. I am open and looking. I am paying attention to ways God is piercing through the thin places in my life. And I am grateful that I do not have to figure these things out by myself.

Water to Wine

I used the Upper Room's Disciplines 2013 for my morning devotions most mornings. The readings for Sat & Sun are from John 2, the wedding at Cana story, where Jesus does His first miracle and turns water into wine. Here are the versus from Bible Gateway.

John 2:1-11

The Message (MSG)

2 ^1-3 Three days later there was a wedding in the village of Cana in Galilee. Jesus’ mother was there. Jesus and his disciples were guests also. When they started running low on wine at the wedding banquet, Jesus’ mother told him, “They’re just about out of wine.”

⁴ Jesus said, “Is that any of our business, Mother—yours or mine? This isn’t my time. Don’t push me.”

⁵ She went ahead anyway, telling the servants, “Whatever he tells you, do it.”

^6-7 Six stoneware water pots were there, used by the Jews for ritual washings. Each held twenty to thirty gallons. Jesus ordered the servants, “Fill the pots with water.” And they filled them to the brim.

⁸ “Now fill your pitchers and take them to the host,” Jesus said, and they did.

^9-10 When the host tasted the water that had become wine (he didn’t know what had just happened but the servants, of course, knew), he called out to the bridegroom, “Everybody I know begins with their finest wines and after the guests have had their fill brings in the cheap stuff. But you’ve saved the best till now!”

¹¹ This act in Cana of Galilee was the first sign Jesus gave, the first glimpse of his glory. And his disciples believed in him.

The reading from Disciplines for Sunday, JANUARY 20, (Upper Room Disciplines 2013 (p. 23). Upper Room. Kindle Edition.) brought a different perspective to this passage than I had heard before. 

The author for this week's reflections is AMORY PECK, a retired teacher/trainer, living lakeside in the Pacific Northwest. He talked about how this passage reflects God's creativity in taking what is at hand and making a miracle. He talked about how many churches bemoan the fact that they don't have enough resources to run a Web site, publicize or (my addition) offer enough interesting classes, etc, to attract more people.

Mr Peck had begun the reflection by relaying a story of a family reunion in which the kids had made their own drums and formed a drum choir to entertain everyone. Mr Peck felt it was the highlight of the gathering, showing creativity, enthusiasm and love. He said we often overlook the simple resources available to us and, if we just work with God we can  re-create them into a miracle.

With all the work I have done for the last 2 years cleaning so much "stuff" out of this house, the idea of being creative with what is at hand really grabbed me. I have not been happier in my living situation by having more "stuff". I have actually been "drowning" in it. I have been more comfortable in the sense of having more stability and knowing that my basic needs will be met. I do not minimize what a luxury that is. But I have not been happier.

When Ted and I first got married (1970), materially, we had nothing. I was an undergrad student and Ted was in graduate school. My tuition was paid for by a savings account my mother ha created when my father died. She faithfully put 7 months of my Social Security survivor benefits in the savings account from the time I was 12 years old.

Ted had a small stipend for being a graduate assistant, and I had a small income from my work-study part-time job. There were many weeks when we wouldn't have had enough food, but my mother brought us a bag of BOGO groceries she had bought, and Ted's parents invited us to Sunday dinner every week and sent us home with leftovers!

It was a very exciting time both personally and in our country. College was fun (and crazy at times too). We were part of a ground-breaking Christian community. We were trying so hard to live as Scriptures described the 1st century churches. We spent many hours together, shared meals, child care, money, and homes. Ted and I lived in a large Victorian style home with 4 bedrooms and a finished attic. We often had folks living with us. Sometimes it was students who needed low rent in order to stay in school, and sometimes it was a ministry to fragile folks who needed love, support and stability. Ted and I did the best we could. It always fell short, but grace would intervene and create something good out of our immature muddling.

When we moved to Philadelphia, we were part of a church fellowship that challenged our understanding of Christ as a social leader. Our church in Ohio had been very Evangelical and conservative. I can only described Jubilee Fellowship in Philadelphia as radical. We began to see how following Jesus entered our public lives as well as our private lives. It was good to care for people individually, but it was also important to carry those beliefs with us into the voting booth and public arenas. 

In both churches, we had very little of material value, but we had love and care for one another, a sense of mission to those around us, and faith that God would provide our needs. And Ted and I rarely had serious needs, but when we did, our church family came through; money for unexpected car repairs, or plumbing repairs, babysitting when we needed to go out, sharing our car with others who needed to go somewhere where public transportation didn't go, etc. In Jubilee Fellowship, we shared one lawn mower for the whole community, and one member macramed a tennis net for the public tennis courts since the city no longer provided nets. We were creative with what God had given us!

I don't want to romanticize those early years in our adult lives.  Examining all of our beliefs, learning new ways to live, butting heads with many wonderful but strong personalities was often painful. But there was a vitality of life that I look back on nostalgically. I often wish that God would fill me with that energy and commitment once again.

So how does this play out today. In our current church, we have limited money. Folks give sacrificially so that we can have a full-time pastor. A member donates his skills to build and maintain our Web site. But we are full of love and care for one another, and those who visit see and feel our commitment to God and to one another. that is how we draw new members. They will know we are Christians by our love.

Treading Along

I'm  on the treadmill doing my quarter mile for today. I know that is a ridiculously short distance, but I have to begin where I am; totally and completely out of shape. I have set a long-term goal of walking the Susan G Komen 3-day in AZ in Nov. I have struggled with being overweight my entire life, and, as my weight has increased, my exercise has become non-existent. 
All of a sudden, last week, I signed up for the 3-day walk. I am scared, but I also feel hopeful. I have been praying for years to overcome the inertia that has kept me strapped in my chair. What suddenly changed? I am not sure. But for what ever reason for this timing, God is answering my prayer. And as I have to start at 1/4 mile a day, God is meeting me where I am right now. In the past, I would have had an inner voice criticizing me for being such a wimp. This time, I am grateful that I am up out of my chair, and, I feel hopeful that I will continue this journey all year.
It has helped that I set a concrete goal. I have a target. Paul talks about setting our eyes on the goal of Jesus Christ as we live our daily lives.  Jesus is in my heart now, as I walk each day. And living eternally with Jesus is my long-term goal for eternity, as the 3-day walk is in earth time. But all my attempts to set a goal in the past have generally ended in failure or not being able to sustain the change. I accept God's grace for today and walk on the treadmill toward a new future. 
I guess my message is, "Don't ever give up!". My goal of wanting better health is in line with God's desires for us, so I knew I was praying for something within God's will. I knew that my bad health was a major reason I had to retire early, but I desire to be useful to God throughout my life. If I hope to serve God, I have to be in better shape.
Waiting for God's timing is hard for me. I want quick results in order to stay motivated! But God had a few lessons for me to learn. I am not even sure what they all are at this time, but I will probably recognize them as I keep walking.