a prophetic voice-

Today, a friend reminded me of one of my favorite poems by Mary Oliver, "The Summer Day", which closes with these lines: I do know how to pay attention, how to fall down into the grass, how to kneel down in the grass, how to be idle and blessed, how to stroll through the fields, which is what I have been doing all day. Tell me, what else should I have done? Doesn't everything die at last, and too soon? Tell me, what is it you plan to do with your one wild and precious life? With what better words and thoughts can we begin a new year? with the reminders of the beauty and wonder of the natural world of which we are a part (though far too often we set ourselves apart from it); reminders of the fragility of life; reminders about the importance of living that life to the fullest. As I am a person of words, I could write many more of them, confront you with many more thoughts, but I prefer, on this brink of a new year, to permit Nature  to speak for itself, astounding us wit

Indoors, my house still looks like this...full Christmas regalia, with the mantle graced by my many Santas and Santa pillows on every chair. And so it will stay for the Twelve Days of Christmas, in spite of neighbors hastening to remove their Christmas trees which will soon be lining the curbs in the streets all around my home, while I prolong this holiday which I so dearly love, the reminder of Love taking flesh and dwelling among and in us as at no other time of the year. The outdoors, however, tell a different story, as in my front garden, daffodils are about 6 inches tall, cherry trees are in flower here and there in the neighborhood, and irises are a-bloom on Main Street. No sign of winter here...in fact, these more-than-a-few hints of springtime are the result of our schizophrenic December temperatures here in the Piedmont of NC, with many days in the upper 60s and a hard freeze yet to happen. Trees everywhere are budding as Nature seems to be under the impression that springtim

I love to ride the train, and it was with great pleasure that, on a  recent nippy Friday December morning,  I boarded the Amtrak train at the station in High Point for the 75-minute ride to Charlotte. Our beautifully-restored depot is a delight to the eye and offers waiting room comfort to passengers, and the coaches are both clean and comfortable. No, I am not being paid by Amtrak; I have loved train travel since I was a child and find it both relaxing and pleasurable, both of which driving to Charlotte has ceased to be. I read, relaxed, and enjoyed the scenery, with no worries about traffic or parking or any of the annoyances which all too often mark any automobile trip these days. After arriving in Charlotte, I crossed Tryon Street where I very quickly was able to board a bus into the uptown, for the amazing price of 85 cents when I produced my Medicare card. Since I was meeting friends for lunch and I was early, I headed for the Belk building and Founders Hall, where I knew I wou

MERRY CHRISTMAS, dear friends and family, far and near. As the year draws to a close, as the natural world here in North Carolina prepares itself for winter’s restorative rest, as the days grow shorter and the path of the sun moves to the southern sky, I am thinking of each and all of you with much love and warm memories. A five-week journey to East Africa accompanied by my dear friend, Mae Miner, working with the founder of The Nyanya Project, Mary Martin Niepold, in behalf of African grandmothers, was the high point of my year…a different kind of ministry. Daily life has been filled with the joy of spending time with my children and the grands (Lindsay, 23; Felicia, 15; Jack & Jamie, 12; Callie, 10; Nickolis, 9; Mattie, 7; Jannie, 6; and Rollin, 3); lunching with friends or entertaining friends here (I still LOVE to cook for company); being part of a wonderful monthly women’s discussion group, Fresh Bread; serving The Arbor Lutheran Church as interim pastor; practicing yoga i

"Be prepared for 'EXTREME Baking' ", my cousin, Cheryl, warned me when I suggested, back in September, that I come up for a weekend to learn to make nut rolls with her mom, and invited her to be part of the baking party. Nut rolls are a German- or perhaps Austrian or Hungarian delicacy, usually made only at Christmas since the preparation is labor-intensive...dozens of walnuts ground for the filling which is mixed by hand...the five-step mixing of the pastry layer, followed by a first rising, rolling, filling, and a second rising. Only then are the lovely, fat rolls ready for baking. Oh, and did I mention brushing the tops with beaten egg mixed with a bit of sugar, to create a shiny glaze? I have no idea where the recipe originated...I don't know that anyone does. But in the small, ethnic steel-town where I spent my childhood in Pennsylvania, all of the women baked them at the holidays: Germans, Austrians, Croatians, Serbians, Hungarians...but you get the pict

And suddenly it's December, the last month of the year. In 31 all-too-short days, 2011 will draw to a close, the calendar page will turn, and we will be teetering on the brink of a new year, 2012. I remember well being in my teens and wondering if I would still be alive at the turn of the century. After all, I would be the advanced age of fifty-eight when that happened. Yet, here I am, happily chugging along toward seventy, and doing quite well, thank you very much. My teen-aged self would undoubtedly be quite surprised. Returned yesterday afternoon from a six-day trip to Pennsylvania, to reconnect with family and friends there: 2 days with my Aunt Jean in Steelton for "extreme baking" (more about this later), along with my cousin, Cheryl, and including a trip to Schmidts' butchershop for their amazing German sausage; an afternoon, evening, and overnight with my oldest friend, Diane, and her husband, Bob, in Hummelstown. ( She is actually two years my junior but

At times our own light goes out and is rekindled by a spark from another person. –Anonymous I believe that we are always attracted to what we need most, an instinct leading us toward the persons who are to open new vistas in our lives and fill them with new knowledge. –Helene Iswolski Each friend represents a world in us, a world possibly not born until they arrive, and it is only by this meeting that a new world is born. - Anais Nin A friend is a loved one who awakens your life in order to free the wild possibilities within you. -John O’Donohue On this day of giving thanks, I am most thankful for life and health. But closely nipping at the heels of that experience of gratitude is my overwhelming thanks for my children and grandchildren and scattered extended family. And clinging tightly to the thankfulness shirt tail (I'm mixing metaphors shamelessly here) is my deep and abiding gratitude for my friends, a true blessing in my life. Recently, my precious friend, Mae, came

Be content with what you have; rejoice in the way things are. When you realize there is nothing lacking, the whole world belongs to you. -Lao-Tzu monday morning... the morning is fleeting... yet what is more important at this moment than being here, listening to chanting, enchanting voices from the CD player, sipping coffee from my new, handmade-by-a-friend coffee mug, watching the flickering candles and the heavy gray air outside my windows... reading, writing, thinking, while an occasional tear glides down my cheek, a tender smile parts my lips. Here Now present in this present moment... for where else should I be? breath in breath out this is my life...thanks be to God.

How beautiful Carolina is in the autumn. Everywhere you look, color fills the landscape, all the more precious because it is so fleeting. And now, with the recent rains and high winds, my lawn is littered with the leaves which so recently graced the limbs of the trees in the yard, many of which are now standing nearly bare in preparation for the coming of winter. In the brief week since these pictures were taken around my house, much of this color is gone, as the winds which cleared the clouds and gave us the incandescent Carolina-blue skies stripped these lovely ladies of their colorful garb, their bare bones now showing clearly and starkly. What an autumn it has been, though. In spite of a paucity of rainfall through so much of the summer, Nature put on her annual show. Oh, there were fewer reds and oranges, though a maple tree at the end of my block put on a truly remarkable show, going from orange to red to glowing gold over a matter of weeks. Glorious, simply glorious. And wal

As some of you know, I am an inveterate reader and since, for the first time ever I have been keeping a list of "books read" this year, I was surprised to realize that my list has reached seventy...so far. If my math is correct, this comes to 7 books per month...or almost 2 per week. Not amazing, surely, but substantial. The list includes both fiction and non-fiction, with a smattering of poetry thrown in for good measure. But my favorite genre is mysteries & thrillers...not of the chainsaw variety but of the smart, well-written type, with well-drawn characters and page-turning plots which keep me engaged until the last page. And if the denouement is a true surprise, so much the better. So, for you fellow mystery fans out there, I am including a list of some of my very favorites. A number of these are just one of a series by a particular author focusing on a particular main character and with these, I have read the others of the series in the past or am planning to catc

Though he said goodbye to all of his fans several weeks ago, Andy Rooney said his final goodbye this week when, at age 92, he died. The last of the original cast members of CBS' "Sixty Minutes", his ascerbic wit and curmudgeonly view of life kept us both entertained and thoughful as, week after week, he reflected on the state of the world, our nation, or simply the foibles of humanity, including his own. His commentary on cotton in pill containers, paper weights, and junk mail mixed with heartfelt reflections on national and world politics, and he was never afraid to voice his opinions loudly and clearly. His voice joined those of other truly stellar newsmen: Mike Wallace, Dan Rather, Harry Reasoner, and Ed Bradley, all of whom were reporters to the bone, digging for the heart of each story, fleshing it out for us, the viewers, in a way seldom seen since. Andy, you will be missed. Blessings to you, and good night.

With all that has been transpiring in the world this week- the death of Muammar Gaddafi in Libya, the on-going and growing demonstrations by the Occupy Wall Street movement in our country, the long-awaited announcement by President Obama that our troops will be out of Iraq by the end of this year- and so, so much more, I was still able to carve out a place of serenity and peace for some reflection and writing on Thursday. Being gifted by dear friends with the use of their "studio" for this endeavor, I spent several wonderfully quite hours at Healing Ground, with candles lighted and soft music playing as my invitation to the wind of the Spirit of Creation and Creativity to blow through that place, to blow through me. When I have this "alone-time", I usually look back over some of my journals, to reflect upon my reflections...and lest this sounds like so much naval-gazing, let me tell you that I am often amazed by what I find...at words I wrote a year ago or two or

I wrote the following words in my journal two years ago; they offer an explanation of why this blog exists. In my own words: Writing is not arrogance; it is simply sharing my opinion, my experience; laying it out there for others to accept & resonate with or reject, as they will. No matter how scholarly a work, how well researched or footnoted, at rock bottom it is the thought and opinion of the writer...admittedly reached through process and consideration but his/her opinion nonetheless. And so, I must set aside my fear of rejection, my fear of being misunderstood and disagreed with, and JUST DO IT! It is not arrogance to put forth what I think/believe; no arm-twisting is involved but rather, an invitation is being issued... to be accepted or not by the other, by the reader. The path lies ahead...one foot in front of the other...walking is lovely but also difficult at times...it requires determination...it requires DOING IT! Breathe into me courage, strength, and wisdom, Creat