Silliness

Silliness is a wonderful word to describe the opportunity to be a child even when you are long past childhood. Many comedians have made their careers on being silly, elevating it to an art. Anyone can be silly though. And once someone in the group starts it, the behavior is contagious until everyone is engaged. Today at work was one of those precious times, when silliness did her dance and we all joined in. It started innocently enough with a gift of bubbles in a ice cream cone bottle. The bubbles smelled like mint ice cream. Somewhere along the day, as complex issues threatened to stretch that last nerve, the bubbles came out and the colorful minty joie wafted over and around us. Someone said something that tickled one of us, which started a burst of silliness. Our cubicles entertained a fine moment of laughter.
When we turned back to our computers, the scent was still in the air, and the joy that bubbled up stayed present for the rest of the afternoon. One conscious joyful act began another. It is no accident when we are suddenly surrounded by joie, it all starts with one person. Can it be you?

Doing it better

The bible is full of tough, hard verses that many times rub us the wrong way, or disagree with our vision of God. There are verses about God wounding, then binding our wounds, about us cutting off our arms or legs in order to make sure we can enter heaven, about being purified like gold in the fire. It all seems quite brutal, and not how we imagine our walk with God should be. Where is the grace and the love and the mercy? I have to admit that I did not think those verses applied to me. Why, I was a good Jesus follower, I paid my tithe, went to church all the time, read the bible through every year, did mission work. Then things started changing in my life, big things started going very wrong. I hit walls that prayer did not tear down. In this, I find myself, more and more, facing the self righteous person I am. Doing things I thought I would never do, needing people to help me, I have been wounded. The wounding has exposed biases and prejudices, fears and anxieties. But, after the wounding is the binding of wounds, the balm of God's grace that whispers: "You can do it better, you can grow and change." I feel the weight of self importance lift, and the pride fly away, and the road to doing it better paved with gold.

HUGs

My friend Amy started a cancer support group called the Basil Babes, after our shared doctor's name. For a long time that is what it was called, even though more gals joined and had different doctors. Now we are called HUGs, Heroines United by Girly cancers. If you know anyone that needs a support group of very together professional women, who are dealing with gynecological cancers of any sort, we are a great group. We have a Facebook page and an email: heroinesunited@yahoo.com.
I visited Amy while she was getting chemo for the umpteenth time today, and met another woman who was finishing her first full treatment cycle(about 6 months of chemo). I told that woman about our group and that we were a group of survivors, some of whom were survivors of one full treatment cycle and others of us...I paused, thinking "keep it light, Amy"...were survivors of "more than one. " I decided umpteenth wasn't being very light. A person just finishing 6 months of life and health disrupting treatment did not need to even remotely entertain the idea that she might have to do it again...and again.
That is why I love our Hugs group. We did it, are doing it, and will help whoever get through it too.

Little Bed

I bought a toddler bed at the Mother's Exchange yesterday. It is a quality crib mattress that fits into a sturdy white plastic frame that is molded to look like wood. I bought it for my granddaughter, Collette, to sleep in when she and Jane are visiting for a month this summer. I was going to take it apart to store while waiting for June, but my husband thinks I should leave it set up. "Like a cruise countdown", he says. My cat, Bruce, already thinks it is a bed for him. I know better. It is a promise of a red headed curly top, giggling under the covers after a long day in the sun. It is iced tea and ice cream cones, sticky fingers and bare feet. Wet towels hanging from the doorknobs and bathing suits hung in the shower to dry. It is crickets and frogs making soft outdoor music, lightening bugs in jars and late night stargazing. It is missing a daddy who is in Qatar, sitting on Grandpa's lap close to the security of strong arms.
It is quiet now, my sleeping cat, a chilly night. Still, summer is coming, full of life and a little girl for this little bed.

Hope

I sat at chemo with my pals yesterday, eating cupcakes and making jokes with the nurses. My pals were other cancer patients, Kristi and Amy, who are walking the same path I am, struggling with the same disease, the same drugs, the same fears and fatigue, the same uncertain future. We share more than that, though. We share hope. We sit in pleasant harmony, hoping that one day we will be well. And, if that is too much to hope for sometimes, we can still talk about what fun events we have for the weekend. We are well aware of how quickly future plans can be shattered, yet still able to plan. A cruise, a trip to the park, a new knitting project. Hope is planning dinners and birthdays, anniversaries and weddings. Hope is writing these events on the calendar, maybe in pencil, but most times in ink. Hope is imagining being cancer free and chemo free. Hope is painting your nails a bright pink and putting on lip gloss and going into the world with a big smile. We must make an odd picture, 3 women eating cupcakes and laughing, with IV bags hanging by our heads, infusing toxic chemicals. But we are the picture of hope.

Jesus

I am a Jesus follower. This year I am reading the One Year Bible, which is a  bible designed to get one through the whole bible in one year. Each day the  chronological reading includes a portion of Old Testament, New Testament, Psalms and Proverbs, and takes about 15-20 minutes to read. It is a new experience to read it this way. The ponderous restrictions, regulations and rules of the Old Testament read in deep contrast against the light and moving stories of Jesus' life. In the Old, God was always starting over, wiping out whole populations, destroying by plagues, setting the rules breakers on fire. The gap between the holiness of God and the unholiness of man seemed to be too far to ever cross without endless preparation, ritual, sacrifice, intercession. But each time Abraham and Moses begged God for forgiveness, a change of heart, God softened, made accommodation, forgave.  Then there is Jesus, God's son, who rebuked the soulless priestly rituals, instead magnifying relationship.  Leaning into the love of God for us, His purpose for us to love Him and each other. Sacrificing himself for us so that God no longer needed to start over. He set us on fire, but with His own Spirit, so we can be safe in Him.

Traveling Light

I got some bad news at the doctor a few days ago. It wasn't a total surprise, but it was more serious than I had expected. It was the first time that I cried in front of him, even though it was only for a second. I had been waiting for this moment with trepidation for some long time. Yet, when the moment came and went, and the tissues were in the trashcan, the day continued to unfold like all the other days. There were smiles, and jokes, back to work and business as usual. The weekend has been filled with meals with friends, knitting, playing with the cat, cozy evenings with my husband. The moment in the exam room becomes a memory with all the other events that pass through my life. As I move through the days and weeks ahead I can carry that moment like a burden on my back or leave it where I found it. I tried carrying it around with me a little bit this weekend, since it was a new thing and bothersome, but I decided it wasn't really something I wanted to keep, so I am putting it back where it was. I like to travel light.

Ocean

Growing up on the East coast, my family and I spent many summers by the Atlantic Ocean. As parents, we have taken our family to other, prettier, warmer oceans and seas. Living in Ohio, where the closest ocean is 14 hours by car, Lake Erie, only 4 hours away, gives the same effect of a vast expanse of water that ends the horizon. That view is the best part. The flat straight line that demarcates sea and sky brings peace in it's elemental state. The book of Genesis says it like this in chapter 1: And God said, “Let there be a vault between the waters to separate water from water. "So God made the vault and separated the water under the vault from the water above it. And it was so. God called the vault “sky.” And there was evening, and there was morning—the second day." The water God created can be so beautiful one day, yet so brutal the next. It is home to both colorful fish and hungry sharks, spectacular coral and stinging jellyfish. To live by the ocean, one must accept both parts of it's magnificence...the beauty and the brutal.

In accepting this, one can speak to God, learn his ways, and be guided to peace.

Florida

My daughters are very smart. They currently both live in warm weather zones, Jane in Arizona and Mary in Miami Florida. We all gathered there for a long weekend last week. While it was freezing in Ohio, it was a balmy and breezy 85. We had plenty of sun, walks on the sand, and toes in the surf. We even saw Rachel Ray, wrapping up the Food Network's week long presence in South Beach. I have been to Florida many times, it never disappoints. It was hard to leave yesterday, as we wound our ways back to our lives thousands of miles away from each other. We set up a next event, ever grateful that there are safe airplanes and nearby airports and frequent flyer miles. We have work to do, social events to attend, homes to clean, cars to maintain. It is always there in the back of our minds, however, like a singing bird. Our moments together a song of love and caring and support, God blessed and precious. Never really far away in spirit, our independent souls find home wherever we are together.