a prophetic voice-

Good morning, dear ones far and near.  Winter had not quite released it's grip on us here in Carolina, though Spring has been teasing us with her presence for several weeks, with everything in bloom. For the past several days, however, nighttime temps have been dipping into the 30s, with daytimes only in the upper 40s and filled with chill rain.However, we need the rain...and the redbuds seem untouched by the cold...dogwoods still hold the promise of blooming soon...and trees are budding leaves everywhere i look.  Counting my blessings this morning, as I snuggle under my down comforter, waiting for the heat to warm the house. First and foremost, i count each of you...for the beauty and richness and companionship you bring to my life...my precious family, most especially my dear children and the grand grands who color my life with joy and delight, with love and support and encouragement. Then, of course, there are my comfortable house and bed, the dependable heat, and a refrige

It was the best sort invitation from a dear friend in Pennsylvania, asking me-and other friends- to send cards to her parents in April in celebration of their 70th wedding anniversary. Seventy years! It absolutely takes my breath away, especially since i will never even know the joy of celebrating 25 years with the same man. Seventy years! It nearly stops my heart to contemplate it... Two marriages have been part of my life...the first ending after a mere 12 years with the untimely death of my young husband at age thirty-seven; the second ending after 14 years with a divorce when that husband decided i was no longer the person to whom he wanted to be married. That marriage ended in 1994, and in the intervening years- seventeen years, to be exact- i have not been in a relationship with a man. Not complaining, you understand- just acknowledging.  Sometimes the lack of a partner has been hard...and i have experienced a longing for which words seem inadequate- though as a poet and word

Mind meandering in many and varied directions this morning, as i watch the lightening sky, aware that my body has still not adjusted to this change in time, flatly refusing to awaken when the clock reads 5:30, and insisting on sleeping until 6:30, the real 5:30...sun-time. Just can't believe this upheaval of circadian rhythms is worth it, but that's only my two-cents' worth...i know others who greatly enjoy and appreciate the "extra hour" of sunlight at the end of the day. Which leads me to another reflection on difference and differences... creative differences... difference does not have to mean d   i   v   i   s   i   o   n creativity emerges from differences...       coloring outside the lines...       refusing to connect the dots in order...       thinking ouside the proverbial box...       dancing to the beat of a different drummer... new ideas different solutions re-birth.       is this perhaps why we often find it       so threatening?     

Greetings, dear ones, on this lovely fully spring morning! The sun is promising a beautiful day, though i believe we're supposed to get some showers later. But nothing can dim my spirits on this glorious day, as last evening, my friend, mae, and i confirmed our flight to Kenya in July. Hallelujah!!!! Step one accomplished in this lengthy process of putting a 5-week trip together. Oh, for those of you who did not know, i'm returning to east Africa this summer with Mary Martin of the Nyanya Project to visit our present projects and begin work on at least one more. And i'll get to see the amazing women i met last summer, to see the lovely children at our preschool in Kibera, Nairobi, Kenya, and to experience the incredibly gracious hospitality of the African people. Do you get the idea that i am excited?! Spent some time this morning reading about "Differences" in Uncommon Gratitude. If you have never encountered the writing of Joan Chittister, i commend it to you

 Well, dear ones far and near, the supermoon did not materialize on the horizon here due to cloud-cover. And though i watched and waited, i could finally only see Lady Moon about an hour later, through the trees in front of my house, and then again early this morning, through the back hall windows. No "supermoon"...just a lovely full moon like so many i've seen and enjoyed and appreciated over the years. But that's the way of life, isn't it? So often we build up our expectations and when the event finally happens, the purchase finally made, it just doesn't measure up. So...what has gone wrong? Perhaps, in reality, nothing...except that we, in our desire for the "special", have failed to see and understand that we can view whatever happens with eyes of joy or eyes of judgment...the choice is always ours. May your Sunday truly be a sabbath for you, filled with beauty and rest and good company. May you know that you are held in heart and prayer, and

somewhere... somwhere a mother is grieving her    child lost in the tsunami somewhere a young man is grieving his    friend, killed in a senseless shooting somewhere an elderly woman is grieving her    children, dead from AIDS somewhere a child is grieving the    inability of his parents to pay school fees somewhere a man is grieving the    loss of his job as his company downsizes somewhere the relentless tide of poerty    is killing as surely as the tide of the    Japanese tsunami somewhere the comfortable sit and contemplate    what they will do today-    while worlds away, the poor and stricken    wonder how they will get through                                            another day. And so Saturday begins...as i sit here in my comfortable home, knowing i will have enough to eat today, i will be safe and warm, i will have a comfortable place to sleep, i will be able to choose how i spend my time. Am i ever really grateful enough for those gifts, i wonder? Pe

As many of you know, dear ones, i spent nearly a month last summer in East Africa with The Nyanya Project, and much of my heart remains there with the wonderful people i met in Kenya, Tanzania, and Rwanda...people whose lives have been impacted by HIV/AIDS in ways we here in the U.S. cannot even imagine. In our country, AIDS has virtually become a chronic disease, with ready access to ARVs (though they still tend to be expensive, but that's another story...), but in sub-Saharan Africa, HIV/AIDS has been having an impact which will be felt for generations. I know the eyes of most of us glaze over when we are presented with statistics, but i invite you to put these numbers into some perspective. We have all been captivated and horrified by the recent events in Japan. News stories tell us nearly 6500 are confirmed dead, with more than 10,000 missing- and that may be a conservative estimate. I simply cannot imagine having to face the devastation and rebuilding that will need to be d

No Quiet Old Age for South Africa's Grannies Dear ones, to read this article which tells a great deal about why i am heavily involved with The Nyanya Project, a non-profit which helps grandmothers like these learn practical skills so they can support their grandchildren who have been orphaned by AIDS, simply click on the above link. And to learn more about The Nyanya Project, please go to our website: http://www.nyanyaproject.org/

Top o' the mornin', dear ones. The yard outside is St. Patrick's Day green, thanks to recent rains, and with temps promised near 70 today and tomorrow, spring will truly be "busting out all over". Things of a more serious nature rattling around in my mind this morning, though. In light of the news on NPR, i've been thinking about Three Mile Island, Chernobyl, Fukushima...nuclear power plant disasters all, the first 2 caused by human error, the latest by an act of nature. What all three have in common, it seems, is government cover-up about the severity of the problem And this says to me that all too often our leaders do not sufficiently trust the people they govern to handle the truth with equanimity and wisdom instead of terror and panic. Are they right, or just arrogant with the arrogance power too often imbues? Truth...openness...integrity...congruence...respect- are these too much to expect from those in our governments, especially from those duly elec

A wet and windy Wednesday morning to you all, dear ones, wherever you are. Sitting here in my little rattan chair, waiting for the sun to rise, or at least for more light to appear on the horizon, my mind is filled with images great and small, sad and hopeful, dreadful and lovely...the devastation which continues to rock Japan set alongside the very real progress being made by my son, Paul, as he negotiates his way out of depression and hopelessness with the help of medication, therapy, and loving support. The scary news of the seemingly-overwhelming problems with the Japanese nuclear power plant set beside the blooming of daffodils and forsythia and Bradford pear trees and tulip magnolias throughout our small city. Oxymoronic images, it seems...and i can let them pull me into despair, bounce me into elation, or i can dwell with them, one at a time, letting each wash over me, enter into me, so i can hold and consider and FEEL what each one engenders within me. It takes time, doesn'

Dear ones, with the on-going tragic news from Japan, more deaths, continual aftershocks, the meltdown at the nuclear plant, i have heard any number of people reflecting that "God" should do something...wondering why "God" caused the earthquake and tsunami to happen. And it has made me wonder yet again about this thing we call "faith"...what it is and is not. This morning, i began a thought-provoking little book by Sister Joan Chittister and Archbishop Rowan Williams, Uncommon Gratitude: Alleluia for All that Is and found that the very first chapter was entitled "Faith". The words of Joan Chittister rang so true with me as i read that i happily share them with you with the hope that they will provoke thought...reflection...discussion.    The fact is that it might well be that deep down we are still substituting a kind of magic for faith. God we make a cornucopia of human desires, a vending machine of human delights. We coax God to be on our si