Winning the Lottery!

July 21, 2016

In 1959 I was born into a beautiful and loving family. I am just so grateful that I landed there. My parents were in their forties, about 10 to 15 years older than my friends and peers. My siblings, (all 5 of them) were off at boarding school, 700 miles away. [my parents were Lutheran missionaries on the island of Madagascar from 1948 to 1976 and boarding school was part of that experience] My mom and I flew down to introduce me to them when I was 6 weeks old, the first of many attempts at family reunions--with intention to be family together. But as it turned out, we never really did live together except for a few vacations here and there. There weren't as many gatherings as we wanted. Like the others, I went to boarding school too, when i was in first grade and on from there. And then after college, each of us in turn spread our wings and flew far and wide and now live in 5 different states and coast to coast.

As I look back over the last 57 years, there have been a lot of tear-filled nights and days, longing for my family, wishing I could live with them and praying that one day, I would have a family to really belong to. This being apart has influenced both my mistakes and my wholehearted decisions. It's been my deepest pain and most exquisite gift.

Three weeks ago was our most recent family reunion. We all (all 6 of us siblings) came together (plus a few spouses and children) to spend a week together. It was amazing! It was loving and it was, for a few days, that feeling of family. We did more story-telling than ever before. We spent more time together. I found myself returning to that deep gratitude, for landing there, in that place 57 years ago. We've all grown up a lot, we're all in our wisdom years and now in addition to loving each other, we have the grace to just be together and enjoy the moments when we can. I am filled with love and gratitude for that week.

I can't stop  there though. I have to include another reunion that happened the week before when I spent a week with 7 women that I have known since birth as all of us grew at boarding school together, all of us close to the same age. We had a reunion at one of their homes and spent a week, laughing, talking, crying and just wallowing in this space of friendship and this feeling of family; adopted family. I can't believe the kindness and support and generosity I felt that week. I can only begin to express my gratitude for that.

And there's more! because after both of these reunions I went to practice with my hospice/comfort choir [Morning Star Singers]. And in those first few notes of harmony, I felt so at home, more myself perhaps than I feel anywhere else in the world. This is my tribe too, these gorgeous hearts that live so lovingly, that blend so beautifully, that fight to keep kindness and peace int he world with their presence.

And there's even more! In a few days, I will celebrate 35 years of wonderful, joyful, amazing marriage and friendship with my husband Pete. I can't believe I got so lucky! he is truly one of earth's most treasured gifts. And with him came another entire clan who took me in and cared for me. And with him came our beautiful children and grandchildren. In addition I have great friends who have stood by me through thick and thin.

I feel today as if I've won some secret lottery. And like any winner I am crying with tears of joy. I've won it all! --Family, partnership, marriage, friends and time to enjoy them!

How many ways is there to say thank you? and grateful? I thought perhaps this old picture of me would do the trick. In honor of all those who have touched my heart and my life, I raise my hands to the heavens!

Thank you!

All will be well

Preparing for a Sunday of worship and singing---

I stretch to release the "should's" and "damn's" that haunted my sleep.
Then I settle in to drink my cup of tea
and listen to my "soothing" station on Pandora
Gentle piano and guitar tunes calm the turbulent seas
Remind me that somewhere the music is always playing
Remind me that God, that Love knows a secret
that our conscience does not
All is well, all will be well
All manner of things will be well

While I'm sipping and eating eggs, appropriately scrambled,
I read an op-ed piece in the paper written by a young adult
(It's about how he studied race and psychology and then spent six months
in Tanzania teaching kids how to use computers in a farming village and how he discovered race doesn't matter, but relationships do)
It reminds me that somewhere hearts are always connecting
Reminds me that deep inside there is a secret
just waiting to be unlocked
the secret that all is well,
the all will be well
that all manner of things will be well

My dear friend
I invite you to take a moment today
to listen to the music
to see the beauty
to notice love at work
and unlock that secret in your heart
May all be well

~Love, Jules 10/12/14

Wanting Sunlight

Wanting Sunlight

to break through those cracks

the notes of the song to come whispering through

Longing for you to feel the rays of the moon

Wrap their loving arms around your tender darkness

Wishing for you to understand, to really know

How much you are loved

What joy there is in your presence

~ love, jules

About Noise and Silence and finding the Holy in It...Entry #4

July 30, 2013

Silence is not always Golden.

Scene 1
The bell rings. Immediately eighty children, ages six to eighteen scramble to the dining hall to find their chairs; a few elbow jabs and friendly shoves along the way. For a moment, chaos arrives in all its glory. Then another bell rings. Silence. A community prayer is said for the meal and then eighty chairs all scrape at once as each child settles into the meal; chaos once again rising as all eighty voices speak at once. If you want the bread, you have to yell, "please pass the bread." You might have to yell it several times; it is so loud.

Would silence have been better? No. This was a precious time in my life at boarding school. It was chaotic and noisy and it was connection, togetherness. I remember it fondly, with smiles on my face, as family time.

Scene 2
1987. Minneapolis, Minnesota. The Twins have just one the World Series for the first time. I know because I've seen it on television and because I can hear the screaming and hollering from my back yard, four miles away! They called the Metrodome, Thunder Dome after that season. I was able to go to one of the division series games. It may be that I lost some of my hearing that day or some of my voice. I've probably not yelled so loud before or since. I don't even play baseball or softball myself. I'm not even that big of a fan but it was so delicious, such wonderful communion to join my voice with everyone else's. Imagine, 70,000 people all cheering for the same thing, all happy for the same thing! Would silence have been better? No. I imagine this is what it must feel like to join in the angel chorus. What a glorious noise!

Scene 3
The little boy is crying. It is hard to make out what he is saying but it has something to do with "wanting one." He is very upset. His hurried, stressed and tired mother is also very upset. Her face turns red as she grabs his left arm and lifts him up to drag him along down the sky way corridor. The three of us (my husband, my mother-in-law and me) watch in horror as we continue strolling in the opposite direction. Just after we pass them, we begin to talk about them with judgment. Suddenly, my mother-in-law turns around and walks back. With determined steps she catches up to the mother and child. Right there in the middle of the sky way, she takes that mother to task with a wake-up call. "What do you think you're doing?" She let her know in no uncertain terms that this is NOT the proper way to handle a crying child. I can't believe her daring! My Norwegian Lutheran Missionary upbringing taught me that getting involved could cause more trouble, that we should always keep silent. But would silence have been better? No. Sometimes justice requires a voice.

Scene 4
I haven't heard from her in weeks. We used to talk a lot and now suddenly nothing. A few phone calls and email attempts have not been answered so I give up. Immediately I begin some very egocentric wondering. "I wonder if it was something I did or said? What did I do wrong this time?" These miserable and chaotic rumblings lead me to stop calling and writing. I give up and leave the dead silence until one day I find out my friend has just recently found out she has cancer. She's been busy going for appointments and getting ready for the treatment. With the hearing of one word,"cancer," her world has become a lonely and silent place. Silence isn't always what we think it is.

There is a time for "Be still and know that I am God"
AND there is a time for "Make a Joyful noise"
AND there is a time for "Do Justice, Love kindness"
AND there is a time for "speak boldly"

Not ALL noise is bad and not ALL silence is good. Silence isn't always what we think it is.

there is a time to listen, to be still and silent
And there is a time to speak, scream, sing, challenge, wonder, ask...

long distance love

for years my heart tingled each time I met her
that old friend of mine, the sea,
for it was then I thought you might be watching
the same moon rise
your toes wiggling in the sand
and feeling me reach you
on your distant shore
in the waves

now that we are both inland
will the wind suffice
to whisper my heart
in your ear
and remind you
I love you still?

Some Days are just Lonely Days

Loneliness seeps into the cracks of my doubt on those days when the space between loving grace and generous giving are too wide. I fight loneliness with all my being. It is my weakness, my arthritis, my Achilles's tendon. On days when a cold indifferent shoulder is the nearest thing to human contact that I can find and I have not yet moved on to the next action of returned gratitude, that's when loneliness sneaks into my view eclipsing the sunshine of friendship and creativity that is ever shining around me.

I get lonely so easily; more easily in my fifties than ever before. The fact of people leaving is too real. I do my best to keep the goodbyes and hellos in balance but i'm not in control. Every goodbye, every hello is a relationship that takes at least two people to make happen. People leave for all kinds of reasons of their own; most of them not intended to hurt those left behind; death, cancer, dementia, new jobs, kids going off to their own lives, personal growth, life changes, accidents, disease, faith, school. My brain knows it is unreasonable to ask for an explanation from each person that leaves OR to be able to stay in relationship with everyone who has ever come my way. And yet, my heart seems to notice the separations on those days when I fall in the gap between love and grace. It's no one's fault. Life is goodbye, life is hello, life is goodbye again.

These lonely days start innocently with something like wanting to honor the anniversary of the death of my wonderful son Hans who died at age eleven of brain cancer (12 years ago now) and then suddenly the loneliness has spiraled out of control making me feel as if I will always be left behind. I hate it when that brief reminder of grief,  in a sudden grandiose movement. captures in all the goodbyes I've ever experienced. That's just way too much and for a day it rips open all my reserves, flooding my Kleenex box with tears. Even in the middle of it I wonder if there is any sanity in grief, in loneliness.What am I to do? life will keep being goodbye and hello and the older i get, the more I will get to say goodbye. Sigh! What is a vulnerable heart to do?

Yesterday was such a day, a day to feel how alone it is to be human. I cried until I was exhausted. At the end of my day I was spent and giving up, hoping a night of sleep would bring me to new clear day. Just as I was on my last cry of the day two things happened. the first was that the phone rang; my sister called and recognizing my sorrow helped me to laugh again. The second was a whisper in my heart; a voice whispering "you are my beloved." Aaaaah! Balm for my tired heart!

And then one more sweet thing happened. A friend sent a message to remind me that we had plans today! So today I wake with a little grief hangover and a heaping dose of love filling my heart. I am living in grace once again.

Dear reader,  If today is your day of feeling as if all is lost, that you are alone in your journey, I pray that when your grief is spent, you too will hear that precious voice whispering in your heart " you are my beloved." . I pray too that your phone will ring and call you back to your graceful life. I pray this with all my heart for I know you are as loved as me or as any of us. You are beloved!

sending hugs,

jules