OLD FASHIONED LOVE SONG

February is a month when Love flickers through our thoughts. We exchange tokens of endearment - chocolates or lacey cards. Allow me to recall a few experiences of Agape – Unconditional Love.

The presence of Agape was there as I sat at the edge of the Grand Canyon, watching the sun rise or set, or at the edge of the ocean, watching the surf, while the sun rose or set. At times it came streaming down through ornate stained-glass, while a massive pipe organ played a Bach prelude.

I’m sure it was present at the moment of my conception, in the love of two people, or at the moment of my birth, however many years ago, or the birth of a sibling, when I realized that the tiny infant was also a part of my world - my family.

I heard it at the birth of my four children, when I first held a new miracle that came from my own body, fully developed, fully human. At the birth of my grandchildren, I saw the look of Love in my daughter’s eyes, nursing and caring for her babies, or of my sons, as they became fathers instead of rebellious teens, knowing that Love goes on and on.

Agape has been close to me in death as well as in birth, with a Great-Grandmother, Grandmothers, Grandfathers, and finally my own Father and Mother. I saw Love as my father struggled for life after heart surgery, so new then, so routine today. I saw Love with a step-son, as he died of AIDS.

Agape is closest, however, in moments of living, when children learn to walk, run, relate with their world. I have knelt by the side of a baby’s crib, and given thanks that the fever had finally broken.

Love was there as I sailed on the ocean, in calm or storm, as I stood at the wheel of my boat, and looked up to see if all was well where the mast made a cross with the spreaders. I was aware of Agape guiding me. From a simple field of clover in the mid-west, to flying over the Valley of 10,000 Smokes in Alaska, to climbing Mt. Fuji in the beginnings of a typhoon, I found Love.

Ten clergy women from various denominations spent three days in the desert of North East Arizona. In silence we ate soup and home-made bread around a long table. In silence we spread our quilts to sleep on the floor, and in silence we rose with the sun to walk single file into the desert. Seated on top of the massive buttes, we meditated in silence, listened to the Love Song of The Universe.

Another time I knelt quietly on top of another mountain, Mount Koya outside of Kyoto in Japan. There I meditated with my God in my own way while a dozen Buddhist monks chanted in Sanskrit. Incense swirled around the room, centuries-old statues lined the walls. My knees ached and I remembered the padded pews of my church back in the United States. The tinkling of a bell brought me back and I listened to the Love Song of the Universe.

A friend and I stood in the middle of a tropical rain forest on the island of Yap. We watched in awe as thirty Yappese women knelt in the light of bamboo torches wearing only dry grass skirts, as they practiced their dance for the new Peace Corps group arriving the next day. They danced the Gospel story, faces glowing, singing the Love Song of the Universe.

From the primitive music of that Pacific Island, to magnificent choirs and symphonies, to a simple child’s song taught to me by a massive, but loving woman who spent her life in a little village in South Africa, the Song goes on.

As an adult I visited a missionary friend in Kagoshima, Japan, with her Japanese congregation. Our only communication was that Old-Fashioned Love Song. In small Southern churches I have fanned the flies away, while we sang, swayed, clapped, and worshiped. In great cathedrals with several thousand other voices, I have sung great hymns.

“O For a Thousand Tongues to Sing...”

There are other times in a person’s life when we recognize the Love Song. For me, many of those took place before an altar. There I was baptized, confirmed, took communion, married, or stood there with my children for their baptisms, their confirmations, their marriages. Then as I knelt at the altar before hundreds of people and several Bishops, I was ordained as a United Methodist Minister.

The Song is always there, but often our attention is on other things, and we miss it.

Often I only recognize the Love Song when it is called to my attention and it connects me with Spirit. I have heard it called the Sabbath of Location. Life becomes a celebration in that moment, not a spectator sport. It is a moment when I experience reality, touch life.

The Song of the Universe is right now - as I study, pray, teach, act. I listen for that Song in each moment of my life, and it always brings a change.

When do you hear that Old-Fashioned Love Song?

Step Out

Did you know your feet can symbolize your spirituality?

After several foot surgeries, I discovered it is only when we no longer have healthy feet that we learn their importance.

Feet were important in biblical times. Joshua talks about putting one’s foot on someone’s neck as a conquering act. He also says, "Every place that the sole of your foot shall tread upon, to you have I given it..." All belongs to us!

The Metaphysical Dictionary of the Bible says our feet represent our contact with earth, with the material things of life. When Jesus washed the disciples' feet, he washed away the material aspect, allowing them to connect with the spiritual aspect. Washing someone’s feet can become a ritual where you clear up any discord.

Another reference has to do with grabbing someone's feet as an act of respect, honor, humbleness. We talk about sitting at someone's feet to learn, to be a disciple.

A friend can “read toes!” Since she explained it, I look at people's toes in order to try out my newfound knowledge.

Our little toe represents "Earth," the physical stuff - buildings we put up, space we need for our worship celebrations. It's our money situation, how we create it, how we use it. It’s how we use our bodies, whether we embrace others or force them away.

If the little toe represents physical hugs, our fourth toe represents our heart connections, or “Emotion.”

Can we look each other in the eye lovingly? Are we compassionate? Do we have time for each other when someone is hurting? Or are we so busy running fast that we don't have time to connect? If we neglect these first two toes, there's no foundation.

Our middle toe is "Fire," our passion. Is your passion focused? Even if we say all the right words, do we say them with passion? This toe is also our creativity, but we can't let it become overdeveloped without the grounding. Do we use our fire to make heart connections so that the middle toe almost climbs over the others?

The second toe represents "Air," the mental - our ideas, our mind, our intellect. Do we become involved in study? Do we need to be more intellectual? My second toe has become "fixed" since my surgeries, so I think about it in terms of how I'm "fixed" in my stuff. Because my second toe is clogged and swollen, it must represent too many books in my personal library!

Our big toe is “Spirituality.” In Leviticus, a ram was slaughtered for the ordaining of priests. Moses took some of the blood, put it on the right ear lobes of Aaron and Aaron's sons, on the thumb of their right hands, and on the big toe of their right feet, before dashing it on the sides of the altar! Is our spirituality floating out there, not really grounded with the rest of our life?

There's other stuff to help in reading your toes.

If your toes are curled under, they are grasping in fear, trying to hold on. When one toe leans on another, it is coming over to help the next one.

If our feet stink, does that mean our foundations stink? When one toe doesn't touch the ground, that aspect isn't grounded yet. Work on those areas by massaging your own feet to get them to change and open up.

Everyone's feet, toes, are different between the left and the right.

The LEFT foot represents what you’ve received in the past. If the second toe is wider, you emphasize the intellectual stuff. Have we taken it in and used it, or blocked it?

The RIGHT foot represents what's going on now, how to express it in the future. It's time for some new visioning. Have you become stuck?

Your LEFT foot may show that you’ve been open to new ideas before, but does your RIGHT foot show that you are still open?

Our feet are our foundation, so they reflect UP. They are also our grounding, reflecting DOWN. In Oriental Medicine the characters for humanity show us as the connector between heaven and earth.

God said to Moses: “Take off your shoes, for you are standing on holy ground." By taking off our shoes, nothing comes between us and our connection between God and earth. And that burning bush - are we being consumed by the Holy Spirit , or are we simply being consumed?

Do we take time to stand on Holy Ground? Are we stuck somewhere? Are we so fragmented that we never take time to stand on holy ground? Don't let anything stand between you and your grounding. Keep the head and feet and heart connected. Take off your shoes, for the ground on which you stand is HOLY!

So what is the point of all this? It is about Community, about connecting.

St. Paul talks about the feet being a part of the Body of Christ, and how we can't do without them. The head doesn't say to the feet, "I have no need of you." We can become disembodied at times, head separated from feet. We can get too disjointed.

During this month of January, 2008, give yourself and one other person a foot massage. It can be the most transforming thing you do. A well-done foot massage makes your whole body feel better. Since all of your "stuff" reflects right down where your feet are, this is a practical "baby step" toward transforming the world, one person at a time.

What is your footprint in this world?

I Believe in Angels

When I was a little girl, I used to picture the angels from that first Christmas Eve night as a great heavenly choir with well-trained voices singing something that sounded like a Bach Chorale to a bunch of ranchers taking care of sheep on a hillside, who would have probably preferred good old country-western music.

My ideas on that may or may not have changed much since I was a child, a preacher’s kid. But like many of you, this much I do know, that angels are real. I know that we are surrounded by a powerful heavenly host of angels, singing our kind of music; and I am more aware of these angels at this time of year.

The custodian of a church where I was once pastor, said he often woke up to the flutter of angel wings. It reminded him that his angels are always with him. Another friend in that same church related his story about an angel visitation when he was serving in Viet Nam. I also have heard stories out of England from World War II that tell how planes continued to fly, even after the pilots were killed.

I have many stories about the personal help I have received from angels, but one fairly unspectacular angel story comes from a Christmas trip many years ago. My husband and I, with our four children, were traveling across country in a camper to visit relatives for the holidays. It was bad weather with icy roads, and we were on a limited time schedule.

We decided to do some of our driving at night while the children were asleep, which meant we were not always wide awake as we drove during the daylight hours. The children and I had gone to the back of the camper to take a nap, leaving my husband to drive the next stretch.

Not long afterward, he was visibly shaken when he came back to wake us up. He said, “I just now pulled over to the side of the road, but I honestly don’t know how I got there.” Later he said he’d realized he was falling asleep and felt himself lose control of the camper. Suddenly he woke up to find himself parked in a safe spot off the highway, even though he knew he hadn’t driven it there by himself.

Many of you can tell similar stories of visitations and assistance by heavenly hosts. The angels are there to sing to us, to minister to us, to protect us, to bring us messages, and often gifts. And they are out in full force every Christmas. I have a feeling that they wouldn’t miss out on our holiday events for anything and that they are surrounding each of us right now!

I kept angel cards on my office shelf for many years. My oldest daughter was visiting once and I was afraid she would think I was too “woo woo” when she saw them. She asked what they were. I told her I would draw one occasionally to give me guidance. She drew one that said “healing,” and she held it against her jaw saying, “I have a bad toothache.”

A spiritual community in Findhorn, Scotland strongly believes in angels and the devas, or plant spirits. The people in that community called on their angels in creating a Garden of Eden in an abandoned dump area.

In one of my churches, we played the game of “Angels and Mortals” every year. Even though it was a large congregation, those who were interested drew names and you became an angel for a mortal, and vice versa. It was great fun finding out who your secret angel was on Christmas Eve.
But it isn’t just a game. We can be an “angel” to someone else every day, and we are also “mortals” to someone else. Angels come in all sizes, shapes, ages, and appearances. Sometimes we see them, sometimes we don’t, but they are always there.

Be ready to be an “angel” to someone at any time. But also be open and aware of your angels, not only your personal guardian angel, but the ones that are about looking after you and loving you.

Who knows? They may bring you tidings of great joy!

What's the Spinach?

An ordinary can of spinach sits beside my computer. It serves as a reminder and prompts me to ask, “What is the source of my strength? What is the spinach in my life?”

A male friend once asked me if women dream of slaying dragons the way men do. I replied, "Yes! Of course, we do!" Both girls and boys dream of dragon-slaying heroes, fairy tale folk who are able to triumph over changes that challenge them.

My fantasy as a little girl was to have Popeye’s power! I wanted to be a sailor like him. Maybe that’s why I loved to sail as adult!

Popeye is just an ordinary guy who always seems to be in trouble. And who causes the most trouble? Bluto!! Then just when all seems to be lost, Popeye gets out his can of spinach. With one squeeze, he pops it open and eats it!

What happens next?

The muscles in Popeye's arms bulge, he gains a strength that enables him to conquer all odds, and the villain shrivels away. The results are overwhelming, but his triumphant moment finally arrives. Popeye has confronted his problems and prevailed.

We cheer and lustily sing along with him (remember the song?)

What is source of Popeye's strength? Is it simply the can of spinach? Or is it the confidence that the spinach gives him?

My question is this....What is the source of your strength? What is the spinach in your life?

Life is about change, confronting those changes, conquering the challenge. Who or what is the Bluto in your life?

At the age of 40, when life supposedly begins, I stepped out of the certainty of a "perfect" marriage. My husband was a physician, and we had just built our 4,000 square foot dream home. We had four bright, active children and three cars. But I felt restless and trapped, totally consumed by an unfulfilling marriage. I examined and debated it with a psychiatrist friend, my pastor, and other counselors, until I finally could open my can of spinach and squeeze out a smidgen of personal power.

Filled with terror and guilt, I walked away from it all to live my life as a single woman.

Soon after my divorce, working as a counselor in a California clinic, a woman I had been working with for several months said, "I can't stand to look at you. I can't stand what you are."

When I asked what that meant, she responded, "You've got it made! You do so well in life."

"Let me tell you a story," I said. I told her where I had been less than a year before. The road toward my imagined happiness had been strewn with fatigue, financial struggles, suicidal thoughts, discouragement. I had no job, no home, no car, no self-esteem, and my four children had decided to stay with their father.

I had nothing except a U-Haul truck full of old furniture and a cat with her fresh litter of kittens. I was free from but not yet free for. When I opened my can of spinach and began to trust my own power, my life story began to transform.

Within a year, I had enrolled as a doctoral student in psychology and had been hired as a psychological assistant in a clinic. I had bought a home and a car, and my children were with me, except for one daughter who had gotten married.

My feelings of inadequacy had begun to subside because of my spinach - an internal strength from a forgotten Source.

The ensuing two decades were packed with change. It is a story of how I lived through those changes. I sold my home to move onto a 37 foot sloop, and lived there for almost 5 years. I was able to complete two more graduate degrees, travel throughout the world, modify my career to include becoming ordained minister. I had my can of spinach, a circle of supporters and a strong faith in a higher power.

Twenty-one years later, in 1994, at the age of sixty, an age when I probably should be thinking about retiring to my rocking chair, I continued making major changes in my life.

I remarried, stepped off into another career with the corporate world, then became a campus minister at a major university, and started thinking about returning to school. It required an abundance of spinach.

My maternal grandfather used to say “I’ll never die until the day I finish all my woodworking projects.” One day, when he thought he had finished everything, he died! The afternoon of his funeral, a fresh load of lumber was delivered to his home, ready for his next project. My own projects and ventures continue, also.

I invite you to summarize your own life in terms of major changes. One way is to create a time line. Place all the major events in your life on a line like peaks and valleys. Then write a brief paragraph (leave out all the small details), make it into a summary story of your life, like I've just summarized my life.

How does your story turn out? How did you prevail?

Now consider the changes and challenges you anticipate throughout the coming year. Children will become young men and women, begin to date. We face the possible loss of friends. Some of you will leave home, get new jobs or start school, divorce or remarry.

How will you triumph? What is the source of strength you can use to help you face and overcome the challenge of change? What gives you strength when you face the shifts in your life?

Your spinach is not only valuable in major circumstances, but also in the smaller daily events - when you are getting the children out the door in the morning, or you need that extra burst of bounce, co-workers push your boundaries, or the battery dies. It’s also learning how to create a life that is more than ordinary!

Simply being human means there is a story to tell! It means taking risks, and facing our Blutos! Over the years, through several divorces and other traumatic events, my faith was the only spinach that sustained me.

Perhaps you are concluding one part of your life right now. You may be changing jobs, ending a relationship, you may have just gone into recovery from alcohol or other drugs, you may be healing from major surgery. You may be thinking about moving to a new house, town, state, country.

What's my spinach? It's sincere prayer and faith in a spirit-filled universe. It's sensitive companions who champion my tenacity. It's consultation with professional counselors who help provide tools for living. It's realizing I'm stronger than I think. It's sheer determination to show up for life, what is called grit. It’s going back to the Source of my existence for support. Each time a Bluto appears to challenge me, I have to remember to grab that can of spinach and squeeze, rather than believe I have to tough it out alone.

Is your spinach handy?

I suggest you buy a can of spinach, keep it sitting on your desk as a reminder of where you get your strength and confidence. Ask yourself: “What is the source of my strength? What's my spinach?” I invite you to risk, stretch, dare to be different, to go where it may not always be so safe.

Popeye faced the Blutos with faith in his spinach. And when all else fails, we can sing along with him…“I’m Popeye the sailor man...”

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