Bud and Alex

A group from our church spent a Saturday about a month ago on fire recovery efforts with Presbyterian Disaster Assistance. We were assigned to help rebuild one of the many homes that were destroyed in the wildfires near Bastrop, Texas last year. While others in the group sanded the sheetrock upstairs to prepare for painting, I listened to Laurel’s story. She is a woman of grace and courage with more grit than I can imagine exhibiting after losing every worldly possession. The day was full of unexpected blessings—the norm for such mission trips in my experience. One was the loan of painting equipment from a group of Mennonites from Pennsylvania, who had travelled to Texas to work. They had worked during the week and shared their equipment that Saturday so we could paint the outside of the house sunshine-yellow, work that was especially important to Laurel.

The most amazing experience of the day for me, however, was getting to know Bud and Alex, who came and spent Saturday afternoon with us to watch the house after Laurel had to leave and to lock up after we were finished. Bud was a long time friend of Laurel’s, and Alex was his friend. Alex joined us in the painting while Bud entertained young Henry, who had accompanied his mom on the mission trip. Bud’s patient interaction with Henry was a gift, but what really impressed me were the cloths he provided when I asked if he knew if Laurel had any paint rags we could use. I told him I did not want to use anything in the house that might be important to her as she had already lost enough. He left for a few minutes and then returned with some black rags, which he had cut from the shirt he was wearing. I regretted my request and told him I had not meant for him to use his shirt. He said he also did not want to use anything of Laurel’s that might be important to her. What an amazing testament to friendship. I wonder how many of us would cut the shirt off our backs to take care of a friend. I was reminded that saints still walk the earth in our time, and we encounter them if we have eyes to see and ears to hear.

Grace and Peace,

Donna Sue

Light out of Darkness

October 31, 2012

This afternoon, I walked the labyrinth at an Episcopal church near my home. There I left at God’s feet the pain of saying goodbye this morning to a good friend. This past year I have walked more in the shadows of the valley than on the mountaintop, as I have coped with griefs, small and large. I will miss this friend and pastor who has walked beside me during this difficult time. I am grateful for the labyrinth, which provides a thin place close to home, a place where the veil between heaven and earth seems thinner than in other places, though that may because I go to such places intent on opening myself to God’s voice. I went to my favorite thin place a couple of weeks ago for a church conference and sat at the chapel on the hill, which overlooks the Guadalupe River, early on a Saturday morning. I never fail to encounter God in that place. I never know when or how it will happen, but I am always blessed by God’s presence there. This time I walked up the hill to the chapel in complete darkness and sat for some time listening for God. As I sat there, I remembered Mother Teresa’s description of prayer as listening. When she was asked how God responded, she said “he listens.” As the time approached for me to walk back down the hill and get ready for the day, I watched the light seep so slowly into the darkness that engulfed me that at first I thought my eyes were deceiving me. But slowly, almost imperceptibly, the light arrived, and the darkness began to fade. The promise I brought home with me is that light will come into the darkness in which I have been wandering. It will come slowly and imperceptibly at first, but it will come for I have God’s promise that the light shines in the darkness, and the darkness cannot put it out.

Grace and Peace,

Donna Sue

All Creatures Great and Small

I pray each day for God to show me how I might be of service. Last night's opportunity came out of nowhere, as such opportunities seem to do. I was driving home from the monthly Live Poets Society meeting and was almost to our driveway when the headlights reflected on a small dog standing in the rain in the middle of the road. My first thought was that it was Naiyah, who should have been named Houdini. She regularly escapes from the house across the street. I had managed to lure her into the car on one occasion and return her to her frustrated owners, who had been chasing her for some time without success. I stopped and opened my door and called the dog, which promptly jumped into the car. I realized immediately that the tiny Yorkie was too small to be Naiyah, but remembered the other  neighbors across the street had a Yorkie. I pulled into the garage, turned off the engine, shut the garage door and got out of the car. My prisoner escaped and dashed under my husband's car. I finally lured her inside and called the neighbors, while my husband tried to capture our wet visitor to dry her off. No answer, and no one home when we walked across the road to try to return her. I suggested  my husband try to reach his colleague through the hospital operator. The operator connected him with our neighbor, who was out of town. The dog's owner immediately contacted the neighbor down the road who was taking care of the little Yorkie in their absence, and that neighbor showed up a few minutes later to pick up our unexpected guest, now drier and no longer shivering with cold and fear. We live in a great neighborhood, with people who know and care for each other.

It rained all night last night, a welcome relief from the drought. I am glad our little visitor was not outside in the rain and glad I had the opportunity to rescue one of God's tiny creatures. I've learned there are often opportunities for service if I simply pay attention. I've done angel duty before, but this is the first time it involved a dog. Trying to be of service in God's kingdom is never boring!

Grace and Peace,
Donna Sue

Hope for the future

For I know the plans I have for you. Plans to prosper you and not to harm you, plans to give you hope and a future. Jeremiah 29:11

On this birthday, the first day of a new year in my life, I am awestruck by all the ways God has carried out this promise over the course of my life. That knowledge gives me hope for the future, whatever it holds. The past two years have been a bumpy ride, and I’m grateful for the friends and family who have sustained me as I have grieved losses. I’m especially grateful for the listening and kindness of my pastor, who will soon be moving on as our church calls a new permanent pastor—a new adventure and new possibility for relationship.

 Now in the autumn of my life, always my favorite season as a young child, I am assessing what opportunities the future might hold for serving God in different ways. My most recent project was to put together my first book of poems written out of my experiences on my first medical mission trip and my first trip to Nicaragua. The trip blessed my life in so many ways, many intangible, which I could only begin to express through poetry. God has had a hand in this project. I have offered the book in exchange for a donation to next year’s mission trip back to Nicaragua and have been amazed by the response of those who have read the poems and graciously donated. Who but God knew there was a poet hiding inside all this time. God is good. All the time.

Grace and Peace,

Donna Sue

Remembering

A year ago this week, our interim pastor died unexpectedly following surgery. How strange to realize that a whole year has passed. I miss her bright smile, green eyes, copper hair, and wicked sense of humor. Our church has moved on without her, reluctantly, but of necessity. Now we will face yet more change when her replacement leaves sometime before the end of the year and another permanent pastor arrives. I confess I do not understand much that has happened this past two years since our last permanent pastor left. But one thing I know without a shadow of doubt: God has been with us throughout this time of sadness and change. For that reason, I am confident that God will be with us as we move into the future, whatever that might hold. I read a quote recently that hit home: "You either trust God or you don't." I referenced that wisdom when I preached yesterday on the passage from John's Gospel in which Jesus declared, "I am the bread of life." That bread is sufficient to feed our souls through whatever changes come. I am grateful for the sure and certain knowledge of God's grace in this time of remembered sadness.

Grace and Peace,
Donna Sue

First World Problems

A group from our church went to Nicaragua in January on two week medical mission trip. I found, as with previous mission trips, that I was blessed by the experience way beyond anything I might have done for the people we went to serve. The Nicaraguans were gracious in their hospitality and warm in their welcome. Having read about the history of our country’s interactions with Nicaragua, I am humbled by the fact that they let us into the country. I learned a new phrase during the trip-- first world problems. Today I have been frustrated as I have wrestled with a first world problem, one that involved a computer of course--a brand new bread machine that would not start after I filled it with the ingredients for sour dough bread. Nothing happened when I hit start, even after I reset the machine and tried again. So I called the number on the sheet that says, “thank you for purchasing our product,” and “our customer assistance representatives are always ready to answer your questions.” They are ready if you are willing to wait on hold for about a half an hour. While I waited, I dumped the mixture from the bread machine into a bowl, mixed it up the old fashioned way, kneaded it and set it aside to rise--a good start to working off my frustration. In another hour, I will roll it into a loaf and let it rise once more and then bake it--a solution to my first world problem.  I have the ingredients and the knowledge to make bread. The people we saw in Nicaragua in the rural areas we visited suffer from third world problems, real problems like hunger, disease, lack of clean water, and high rates of maternal and infant mortality, to name just a few. Yet they live their lives with faith and quiet dignity as they tackle the problems they face. When I become aggravated with a first world problem these days, I try to remember to take a deep breath and think about our new friends in Nicaragua, who daily face problems that are matters of life and death. And then I thank God for the blessings I too often take for granted and continue to work towards a return trip to Nicaragua where I hope to learn more about how to face life’s challenges from the amazing people who live there.

Grace and Peace,
Donna Sue

No Cover

The announcement in the paper said, “No cover,” for the Live Poets Society meeting. Where does that strange phrase come from? Of course it means no charge to get into the event. Then again, who pays to hear poets read their work, except perhaps other poets?

I have been thinking today about the phrase, “No cover,” in relation to my poetry. I think it might work as the title for the poem I’ve been contemplating about the upcoming medical mission trip to Nicaragua. Poets at their best write with no cover—like those faithful members of the Live Poets Society, who lay their hearts out for all to see at our monthly meetings. I will be going to Nicaragua with no cover, as a poet, to a land which, like Ireland, reveres poets as national treasures.

For the trip to Nicaragua I will leave behind my normal cover and go into a place well beyond my comfort zone—no iPhone; no jewelry, not even my wedding rings and my grandmother’s engagement ring and tiny gold cross; no makeup (not that I wear much these days!); no blue jeans, but scrubs like nurses wear; no familiar food and drink, but gallo pinto (aka rice and red beans) three meals a day; no familiar surroundings and people, only strangers who speak Spanish, which I am expected to help translate.

If I can capture in a poem the sense that I am about to step into another universe, stripped of my usual cover, perhaps I can also capture why I go on these trips that are so far out of my norm. It is because on each prior mission trip, I have met Christ in a different incarnation. Stepping outside my comfort zone with no cover was the basic requirement for those experiences.

Grace and Peace,

Donna Sue

Gratitude

I meet weekly in the early morning with a small group of writers at a local Starbucks, where we write briefly from word prompts and then share what we have written with each other. Last week, as we approached the end of 2011, we wrote on the topic of gratitude. I wrote mostly about my gratitude for my family and the blessing of being able to see them often. But as my mind has been preoccupied with the upcoming medical mission trip to Nicaragua, I also wrote about my gratitude for those things I most often take too much for granted—a roof over my head, food to eat and access to good medical care. What I neglected to include in my reflection on gratitude was thanksgiving for clean, safe, water that flows from the tap each time I turn it on. Janice, the leader of our medical mission adventure, has been going to Nicaragua on such trips for 15 years now, and she was excited to learn that the place we will be staying has running water with flush toilets and showers. She said on previous trips she has bathed out of a bucket, so this will be luxurious. Nonetheless, she had to make special arrangements for water that will be safe for us to drink. I have found that to be one of the ongoing challenges on prior mission trips. I have to remember not to take a drink from the tap and not to rinse my toothbrush at the tap. I have to remember to pack enough water for the day’s activities from the safe source that has been provided for us. It is so much easier to simply turn on the tap and have all the fresh, clean water I need. In this as in so many other ways, we are blessed in this country. Too many around the world lack access to clean water or to readily available water of any sort. We can live without many of the things we take for granted, but not without water. When I remember that, I realize again the power of Jesus’ assertion that he is living water, the blessed substance without which life is impossible.

Grace and Peace,

Donna Sue