Beauty in the Weeds

I just returned from my time away at the Abbey of Genesee in Piffard, New York.  My dear friend Pamela took me there last November and this time I convinced another dear sister in Christ, Katie, to go along.  One day we took our cameras with us as we trekked off to the noon liturgy.  We thought we might be able to catch some interesting photos of the surrounding landscape. We worship as guests of the Cistercian Monks and then headed down the hill along a path that is flanked on both sides by wild flowers and weeds.  We must have spent about an hour in that field in silence. . . journaling, watching butterflies, looking at insects, capturing God's creation in megapixels.

As birds chirped in our ears and bees buzzed by on their way somewhere important, we watched in silence all the activity that was bursting forth from the grasses, thistles, and blooms.  And God met us there in our own silence even though we were the only ones being quiet.  Ideas began to bubble up. . . ideas about the good news. . . ideas about relationships . . . thoughts about ministry. . . a feeling of God's mercy and love enveloping us like a warm blanket.

Every texture, ever single petal, every wing are a work of God's art, drawing us into the beauty held within. . . a beauty often overlooked as we rush to and fro never stopping to notice the stamen or pistal, never getting close enough to see the tiny hairs on the underside of leaves, failing to notice the color palette of the divine artist.

Even this one. . . life gone out of it, disappeared back into the earth for the next generation. . . has beauty and texture to behold.  Patterns of curls and twists and turns that capture the imagination of the seer. . . if only we would stop to notice.

Where have you seen something beautiful recently?  Perhaps in the eyes of your loved one. . . maybe in the smile of a friend. . . maybe, like me, in a flower or a weed.  Take a moment to notice, to let it affect you, to register in your brain and in your heart and give thanks to the Holy Artist, the one God of heaven and earth, for all of his creative activity. Amen.

This is What Beauty Looks Like. . .

I have had some pretty amazing and humbling moments in ministry.  Moments when the precious people I serve in the name of Christ let me "in" to their grief, sorrow, pain, and joy.  One day a number of years ago it was a dear lady who knew she had breast cancer and was keeping it to herself (and her husband) because she didn't want to disrupt her family's life.  It got to be too much to handle alone, her faith was faltering, and in she walked through the door of my office.  I knew immediately that something was wrong, my first instinct being concern for one of her beautiful daughters.  When I tell you that she ended up as a heap of tears in my lap that may sound very, very strange.  But that's what happened and it was not weird or awkward one bit.  We sat there woman to woman and cried together, no words could express the fear and grief.  No words could express the presence of the Holy Spirit.  I am fully and utterly aware that that moment would have NEVER happened with a male pastor and I am so deeply humbled that God made me a woman for just that moment.  I hope I never, ever forget it.  That was the beginning of an arduous journey for her and her family, and the opportunity for the communion of saints to pray when she was unable to utter a prayer on her own behalf.

Yesterday, God gifted me with yet another Holy Spirit moment.  I had the privilege of driving another precious person with the dread disease of cancer to the place where they offer wigs, hats and other things to cancer patients.  What a ministry!  The woman who fitted my friend with a wig suggested that she take the remaining hair that she had and cut it close to the scalp.  Her hair has been falling out in clumps as it does when chemotherapy ravages the body.  With a little gentle prodding, she assented to letting me cut her hair.  Words cannot describe the honor I felt (and still feel) about this moment.  She sat in front of my bathroom mirror and watched as I clipped her hair, touched her head, combed the loose hair out and dusted her off.   The Holy Spirit gave us one of the most intimate, grace-filled moments of my life.  (She gave me permission to write about it and said she was going to write about it in her journal as well.)

When another person allows us to serve them in such a deep and intimate way it is life transforming.  In the face of crisis it becomes a moment of grace.  To be allowed to come that close to another person in their dark time is a privilege that not many get to experience.  Pastors have an honored and privileged place in the lives of those they serve and it is not to be taken for granted.  Thank you Miss R. and Miss S. for trusting me with these moments.  I will never forget that gift you gave me!  These moments are what bond us together for life, they have shaped who I am, and I am so grateful that you have let me be a part of your journey!

Here is a picture of Miss S. with her new wig. . . I don't think she would like it if I posted the picture of her nearly shaved head even though it looked good!  She can pull it off because she is a true beauty!  Please take a look at her and see what beauty truly is. . . it's not a magazine cover, it's not a "head shot" in the sense of the modeling or acting industry. . . it is real life. . . it is real love. . . it is the image of a precious child of God.  My heavens you are beautiful Miss S.!  

Love,
Your pastor and friend