Living on the Edge

Happy 2012 New Year!


This year I hope to live a bit more out on the edge . . . .

(That's me on the left and an adventurous hiking friend on the right.)

                              


  (This is another intrepid hiking friend on the left and me on the right.)

  "God is a safe place to hide, 

ready to help when we need him.

We stand fearless at the cliff-edge . . ." 

                 Psalm 46:1, The Message

"He leads me beside still waters; he restores my soul."  Psalm 23:2,3

Packing Up 2011 . . .

During these last few days, 
I feel like I've begun 
to pack up 2011. 
Feels good in so many ways. 
I'm looking forward to 2012 . . . 
right after I get 
a little last-minute 

2011 hiking accomplished 
in my new 

"Lewis & Clark" hiking boots!
(BTW, Zach the Cat 
does not appreciate 
this particular post.)

Gimme Some Light

ABC News reported: “If the early evening gloom is getting to you, take comfort that the days are about to start getting longer. The winter solstice—which marks the beginning of winter and the shortest day of the year in the Northern Hemisphere—comes tonight at 12:30 AM, EST. Tonight is the night the axis, as seen from the north, points as directly away from the sun as it will all year. So Chicago, for instance, will get just 9.1 hours of daylight tomorrow, Atlanta and Los Angeles will get 9.9 hours (they’re closer to the equator) and everything north of the Arctic Circle will experience 24 hours of darkness.”

On December 21, 2011 . . . Sunrise in Little Rock, Arkansas is 7:12 AM and Sunset is 5:02 PM.

I’m excited.

Why?  

Because on December 22, 2011 the days start becoming 
l-o-n-g-e-r.

Feels like Promise.

Feels like Hope.

Feels like Joy.

Looks like more Light is coming.

I'm excited.

PS--I know that the actual 24-hour day 

doesn't really become longer. 

But you get what I mean. 

Don't you?

Discovering Yourself at the Manger of Jesus

Today, this Christmas, 

who are you (Mary? the little boy? someone in a room off in the distance?)

or 

what are you 
(the dog? a sheep? a barn dove? the hay?)

in this manger scene? 

What is the significance of your choice?

What do you sense God saying to you 

as you ponder 

where you'd be 

and who you would be 

in Jesus' birth scene?

The Baby Jesus Brings Comfort . . .

He is a refuge.


And He did say come to me 
all of you who are weary 
and I'll give you rest.


I worship Jesus Christ, 
the Son of God, 
the Lover of us all . . . 
And Lover of sleeping German Shepherds.

Zach the Cat Stops to Rest 
                      On a Sunny Afternoon



There are two means of refuge from the misery of life - music and cats. 
~Albert Schweitzer





Cats are rather delicate creatures and they are subject to a good many ailments, but I never heard of one who suffered from insomnia. 
~Joseph Wood Krutch



If there is one spot of sun spilling onto the floor, a cat will find it 
and soak it up.  ~J.A. McIntosh



There's no need for a piece of sculpture in a home that has a cat.  
~Wesley Bates

"Are you tired? Worn out?

Burned out on religion?

Come to me.

Get away with me and you'll recover your life.

I'll show you how to take a real rest."

(Matthew 11:28, The Message)

October 24, 2008 . . .

               Remembering Mommie

My brother, Brad Hardin, and I bought this tree--a Pin Oak-- and had the Maryville (Tennessee) historic park (behind Brad's house) plant it in memory of our mother,

Shirley Temple Armistead (Hardin) Neville.

This is the plaque at the base of the tree. Brad and his girlfriend, Marcia, decorated the plaque. Mommie would have liked that. (By the way, I spell our mom's name "Mommie."  Brad spells our mom's name "Mommy." 
Neat huh?)

Our mom died suddenly of an ascending aortic aneurysm on the morning of November 24, 2008.

Basically her heart broke. So did ours.

Brad and I dearly loved her. My friends dearly loved her. And she dearly loved me, Brad, and all my friends.

One of the ways she loved us best was through cooking. Here's one of her bazillion  recipes -- "Cornbread Salad." (There's probably more on the back.) The best thing about this recipe is that it's written in her swirly-Shirley handwriting.

This Thanksgiving Day, November 24,

Brad, Marcia, Dow (Mommie's husband of 17 years), and I will go to the cemetery and say hi

and let her know we miss her

and be thankful for all she meant

and still means

and will always mean

in our lives

and in our hearts.

And so this Thanksgiving I will declare with the Psalmist . . .

"Give thanks to the Lord, for he is good; for his steadfast love endures forever!

Let Israel say, 'His steadfast love endures forever.'

Let the house of Aaron say, 'His steadfast love endures forever.'

Let the house of Hardin say, 'His steadfast love endures forever.'

Let those who fear the Lord say, 'His steadfast love endures forever.'

Out of my distress I called on the Lord; 
the Lord answered me and set me free....

(Psalm 118:1-5 with a Kay-tweakism)

Zach, the Undecided Cat

"It's hard to make up your bed while you're still sleeping in it. 
It's hard to make up your mind for the same reason." 
~Robert Brault

Snow Roses

Today at lunch one of my friends showed the group of us a picture of snow decorating her sister's rose bushes in Nebraska when it snowed on November 1. After we all moaned about snow already arriving in Nebraska so soon, we then began to joke about "snow roses" because the Nebraska roses
were still blooming
when the snow came.

I don't have lots of nice, hardy rose bushes, but for the last several weeks, in my back and front yard I've planted what could be considered
a symbolic

type of "snow rose"--the pansy.

Google says of the pansy: "Pansies are winter hardy in zones 4-8. They can survive light freezes and short periods of snow cover." I've seen pansies pressed to the ground after a hard frost or a deep snow. It looked like the little things were flatter than a flitter (flitter defined as "fine metallic fragments, especially as used for ornamentation"--Dictionary.com).  It looked like they were done for. 

 But "ta-daaaa" they arose and showed off their beautiful colors again.

I have planted pansies in whiskey barrels, in ceramic pots, in strawberry pots, and in beds circling my Bradford Pare tree because I want color throughout this winter. When all is steel gray or dead-grass brown, I want to see a little splash of color when I come home after work or when I look out into my yard while pouring my

first morning cup of coffee.

Working in the yard, in the dirt, is therapy for me. But it's also spiritual. Around this time of year, grief seems to have it's way with me. The precious holidays of Thanksgiving and Christmas are now like terrorist holidays. They threaten my emotional, mental, and spiritual safety all because of acute loss and grief during this time. My heart, mind, and soul go on Red Alert during this time.
And often, when such high alert is activated 
be it in the world, in a nation,
or in a single woman's soul,
it is very hard to
quietly,
peacefully
sit down and pray.
Lately I've not done well at praying.

But when I dig, plant, and pat the dirt 
with my hands,

when I get on my knees
and lower myself to ground level,

when I mix potting soil and garden dirt
in my wheel barrow

like I'm folding egg whites into sugar,

when I design the flower pots and beds--

"this yellow one here and this purple one here and this blue one here and this white one here" --

in so many ways it's a physical mode of prayer
and praise and peace
offered to God

during my season of loss, pain, and grief.



Maybe that's why I've gone crazy

planting pansies everywhere

during the last several weeks.

Maybe it's a way of prayer for me during these holiday months when my normal path of prayer is

  stymied, blocked, and darkened. 

Maybe God hears my prayer through garden tools, dirt, and little snow roses.

When most people are putting up the tools

and winterizing their yards,

I'm out here planting up a storm

in the midst of my own personal storm.

Hear my prayers O Lord.

The Last Week Before DST Disappears

I love my light.

I love my warmth.

I love my green and color.

I just mentioned things of spring, summer, and early autumn.

The countdown to November 6, this Sunday, has begun. This coming Sunday, Nov. 6, marks the official closing date that Daylight Savings Time is over for 2011. It won’t be until Sunday, March 11, 2012 when DST fires back up.

And so the light will drastically be different in the late afternoons.  Zach the Cat will be waiting in the dark on my/his deck for me to arrive from work and feed him supper. Lights in neighbors’ windows will switch on as I drive home at the end of my day. The night chill will have a head start with its advanced hour come November 6.

All this week I will have anticipatory grief about the impending loss of DST. But I will also embrace and celebrate the hours of light available all this week.

When younger I used to be such a winter-wonder nut. I loved the cold and the snow and all that the coldness brought with it—hot coco, hot cider, popping electric wall heaters, layers of coats and gloves and scarves, sledding, snowman making, decorations for the holidays, presents around the Christmas tree, and family snuggled up together under the same roof as the winds blew and the snow swirled.

But now I prefer the spring and summer seasons. I want all the light and warmth and color I can possibly have. I have switched my allegiance and am now more in love with all the things of spring and summer--things which winter traditionally does not offer.

A couple of fun things about winter is that Zach the Cat opts to crawl under the bed covers and scooch up close to me. Then he goes into a big roaring purr that makes me smile right there in the cold dark of my room. Another thing I enjoy is watching Zach sleep on top of one of my floor vents throughout the winter. I never understand why he doesn’t go around looking like a steak just off the grill. One other thing I enjoy about the winter is the delight of hot tea drinking. I love my Jasmine, Raspberry, English Breakfast, and Sassafras teas especially. And it’s a double delight to share a pot of hot tea with a friend in the deep of winter. We sit in my big over-stuffed chairs and have tea talks. ( I have no fireplace, hence no fireside chats.)

This week I hope to finish some outside projects like planting tulip bulbs and pansies as well as raking up tons of pine needles. This week I hope to get my winter clothes moved over to my bedroom closet. This week I hope to take a walk in my historic Park Hill neighborhood once a day. This week I hope to capture the leaf colors in my mind’s eye as I really look at God’s autumn masterpiece. This week I’ll say goodbye to the extra hour, tell it I’ll miss it, and let it know I’ll be eagerly watching for it to arrive back here next March 11.

The Gentle Making of a Thoughtful Life of Beauty . . . .

That's what I want to be doing.

Yet I run ragged with my hair on fire.

When I do that,  I miss you . . . and I miss me . . . and I miss God . . . and I miss so many other gracious, loving, unique gifts God has placed right in front of me, all around me.

I collapsed on the sofa after work this week and breathed in the smell of a hard rain coming down. I smiled as it thundered.

More, more I thought.

I didn't want it to end. It was God's aroma and music therapy while I laid still inhaling it all in--listening and smiling and feeling.

But times like that are exceptions.

I need, I want more "exceptions" and less rules so that I may participate in and receive the gentle making of a thoughtful life of beauty.

Hear my prayer, O Lord.     ....amen....


(The title of my blog is taken from Ann Voskamp's blog "A Holy Experience"  http://www.aholyexperience.com/ She quotes from Rumors of Water: Thoughts on Creativity and Writing.)

For more, listen to Audrey Assad's "Restless" . . . http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=N0B2ybZpDeM

Valley Thoughts, Rose Bushes, a Great Light

September 11, 2011
Ann Voskamp, who wrote 1000 Gifts, coined the words "valley wisdom" describing those who have gained wisdom as they have walked through the "valley of the shadow."

Well I don't feel too much wisdom coming out of me right now as I walk the valley. So here's my attempt at some "valley thoughts."

This weekend, today, tonight I find myself thinking about my grandmother, Polly Armistead Miere, and my mom, Shirley Hardin Neville--both a part of my heart and soul and both gone. My mom died in October 2008 and Polly died a few weeks ago, August 30, 2011.

Here's some of my valley thoughts to sort of describe some of my valley feelings....

• It's like all the chairs are empty at the emotional dinner table except for me.
• It's like I have good news or hurt feelings with no one to tell on the other end of the phone back home.
• It's like the phone doesn't ring anymore on Sunday afternoons to hear how my week has gone or about what my cat has done or me hear about the crazy RV trips or Sunny the Poodle.
• It's like I am deafened by the silence.
• It's like even though I'm getting fatter on the outside, I feel like I could cave in from emotional starvation on the inside.
• It's like my clothes are getting older and frumpier because there's no one left who cares, comments, or compliments.
• It's like crying is no longer the exception.

Maybe I'm "Donna Downer" like this because it's 9/11 and I've cried off and on all day as I've participated in grief with all those on TV. Maybe it's because I didn't get my happy pills renewed for over a week. Maybe it's because I miss my mom and grandmother and miss the love I had with them, for them, and from them. Maybe it's because life is dramatically changing in and around me as I walk on without them.

I've called on God tonight.

I've written this blog.

Amen.



This is my mom's headstone in Springhill Cemetery, Madison, TN.

My brother, Brad, left the penny--a signal of a job well done

in the world of food servers.

I left the little "I love Mom" pot.

Next Words . . .
September 13, 2011
Up early this AM. And so I had time to sit outside in my Cracker Barrel rocker on my deck. It was my prayer time where I spoke no words. Only listened to the birds waking up, squirrels fussing, and I-40 morning traffic in the distance. I love being with my back yard. It's a sanctuary for me. And so I was just being before God, with God.

I've been noticing my red rose bush has done better this year. More growth and more blooms. My pink rose bush has also done better. But both have been needing me to prune off the old, dead, dried up blooms and yellowed leaves and stalks.

That's when the thought surfaced for my own rose bush of a life--I don't bloom as well when I hold on to all the dead stuff, hold on to all that's gone.

What's dead? What's gone? I began to write . . .

• Except for my brother Brad and Marcia, my nuclear family--Mommie, Polly, Mama, Pop
• My home place to come home to
• The way it was for me at home when I was younger--people and places to run to, to find rest and security in
• My strength and energy and interest to keep on working the "front lines" for all the tragedies and sadness and trauma in my chaplaincy ministry (17 years worth and counting)
• Old relationships like they were at first
• Submitting to the male agenda in Christendom--an agenda that has me being reticent, defensive, silent . . . an agenda that is often reductionist for women who are disciples of Jesus
• Having my own family
• The dream of teaching at a university
• Basically clinging to and giving the most value to paths, people, and memories old and gone

It's hard to look at this list and offer it to God for pruning. But hanging on to dried up nubs of past blooms is not life, not living. And I trust God that the pruning is for blooming, for enjoyment of more life, more color, more rich aroma, more beauty.

It is a good and hopeful word for this 56 year old rose bush.

Next Words . . .
September 14, 2011

I’ve just read in Matthew 4:16 this morning:

“the people living in darkness have seen a great light; on those living in the land of the shadow of death a light has dawned.”

It’s a prophecy from the life and times of Isaiah the prophet (Isa. 9:1-2).

“The people living in darkness . . . .”

“Those living in the land of the shadow  . . . .”

My eyes looked again and again at those verses. This wording hooks into my wording above—“valley thoughts” and “shadow of the valley” walking.

For those of us who are walking and living in darkness, for those of us who are trying to press on through the land of the shadow, we are promised “a great light.” We are informed that for us “a light has dawned.”

A Great Light.

Dawn.

That Light, that Dawn is not an idea, not a new program, not a latest book all the rave (and I thank God for all of those things which have meant something to me throughout my valley walk).

The Light is a Person. As usual, God points us followers, us valley walkers, us folks swaddled in darkness, us folks who’ve bought a house in the land of the shadow  . . . God points us to a relationship, to a living, loving, adoring, healing Person—Jesus.

Jesus, in all his humility, humanity, and divinity, Jesus in all his lordship, love, and laughter, Jesus in all his acquaintance with grief... He is my Light out of the darkness, my Dawn of hope from a long night, my One True Love in what too many times feels like devastating loneliness.

Thank you, Oh Lord, for a word within the word. For hope. For a future. Praise be to God.

Dare to Ride the Rim

Jesus said the Greatest Commandment is to love God with all my heart, mind, soul, and strength.

Lovin' God.       


Lovin' others.

What am I scared of?

Nothing and a lot.

C. S. Lewis said:

"To love at all is to be vulnerable. Love anything, and your heart will certainly be wrung and possibly broken. If you want to make sure of keeping it intact, you must give your heart to no one, not even to an animal. Wrap it carefully round with hobbies and little luxuries; avoid all entanglements; lock it up safe in the casket or coffin of your selfishness. But in that casket- safe, dark, motionless, airless--it will change. It will not be broken; it will become unbreakable, impenetrable, irredeemable.”

I gotta stop diddle daddling

                            and get out there

                                    and ride the rim....

Live the Questions

I would like to beg you . . .

to have patience with everything unresolved in your heart

and to try to love the questions themselves

as if they were locked rooms

or books written in a very foreign language.

Don't search for the answers,

which could not be given to you now,

because you would not be able to live them.

And the point is to live everything.

Live the questions now.

Perhaps then, someday far in the future,

you will gradually,

without even noticing it,

live your way into the answer.

Rainer Maria Rilke, 1903
in Letters to a Young Poet

Leisure Time

Thoughts Like Ants in an Ant Hill
Most of the time I have a bizillion thoughts going on inside my brain day and night. I have so many thoughts sometimes that I can't sleep. (Like several nights ago when it was finally around 3 AM before I started the zzzzz's.)

But when it comes to lassoing one or two of those thoughts and bringing them out in the open, well good luck to me.

One Thought Will be about Church Goers and Atheists
Someday I'm going to put Jimmy Dorrell's newsletter and an article from our newspaper on here. Jimmy is a lover of God and a prophet to the church. The newspaper article is a plea to stop hating atheists...written by atheists I think. That's coming soon. (And when I say "soon," that often means before the New Year if I'm lucky.)

My thought tonight will be a short one b/c I have more things to do before I lay down. So here's the short thought:

Leisure Time Rules
I like not having deadlines. I like not having to do position papers. I like my time not so dominated by things needing to be finished and done and finalized and mailed off. But right now, I'm back on the clock trying to get things written, emailed, snail mailed, and turned in for "the man." I thought I finished all that in 2009. Yet once again, I am back in a type of "school" in order to become more and do differently one day.

I like the kind of leisure that allows me to read, to write, to nap on the sofa, or to sit in my rocker on my deck and listen and look out into my backyard. I like having space and energy to say "yes" to a friend inviting me to have coffee or for  Mexican food or for a walk. I like having time to create. I like enjoying time to blog. I'm sacrificing several things that should be getting done NOW in order to lay down a few words. And so NOW will become tomorrow night which is already crowded with its list....

Leisure Time is Foolish to this Culture
I think leisure time is rare with most people for a variety of reasons.

I think leisure time is laughable for most of today's culture.

I think leisure time (and those who imbibe) is labeled "lazy" or "stupid" or  "antiquated" by today's culture.

The Kingdom of God and Leisure Time
Yet I think the kind of leisure time this blog is discussing is on par with the Kingdom of God.

That kind of leisure,  "wasted" time is like the mustard seed nestled in the dirt or like the one lost penny and a woman sweeping or like a farmer broadcasting his seed while he sings or like the Maker noticing a sparrow taking a tumble from a limb. That kind of time is like a woman's prized, hidden treasure of expensive never-used perfume in an alabaster jar. That kind of time is like that same earthy smelling ointment/perfume oozing and dripping from the tips of Jesus' curls on his head.That kind of time is like dipping bread together and drinking wine together before the big showdown just hours away. That kind of time is the aroma of fish cooking over an open fire on the beach by the Greatest Griller for his friends.

Jubilee
After I graduated from Asbury acquiring my doctorate (in five hard years), I took a year off and participated in the Kingdom of God. I call it my "year of jubilee."

And really at this age and stage in my life, I don't have time to allow anything else to interfere with God's Kingdom that lives in me and around me.

Coming Soon
I promise: Atheists and today's new prophet to the church to come soon . . . as soon as I have some leisure time.