Mary and Me: an Advent poem

She said 'Yes' 

though alternative responses 

born of competing emotions

must have demanded their say - 

confusion 

disbelief 

doubt 

apprehension 

even, fear.

But, for some, 

Gods presence and love 

active in their lives 

cannot be denied 

and 'yes' raced to the finish line 

and slipped from her lips first.

And then she waited, 

in a human 

and very pregnant 

pause 

and waited 

for Gods plan and new reality 

to become manifest.

 Waited during

gossip 

conjecture 

speculation 

uncertainty.

Waited in 

trust 

hope 

and certain knowledge 

that she was 

beloved by God, 

chosen.

 This advent season 

as cells divide in my body as well,

leading not to a newborn infant 

but death 

and a new form of life 

in You,

May I too 

wait in the pause 

in

trust 

hope 

and certain knowledge 

that I am beloved by God,

chosen 

and despite all the competing emotions, 

jostling for position in my mouth, 

may

'Yes' 

be my daily response.

Timing ...

it's everything.

I ordered this book

several weeks ago;

it was back ordered

and just arrived in my mailbox 

today.

From a raw statistics point of view,

this might be less of an issue 

than I'd once believed it would be.

truth

My children have always known I’ve had feet of clay; 

I've never pretended to be perfect.

They were protected however 

from knowing exactly how close to the edge 

those feet of clay got 

on any given day,

or how precarious the ground was 

under my feet.

For those of you who haven’t parented solo,

there’s a lot we single moms protect our kids from knowing.

I tried to convey I was in control,

that I could handle 

whatever they - or the world -

threw at me.

I may also have given them the message 

that I’d always be there

to help them deal with 

whatever came their way as well.

Hard conversations this weekend reminded us all 

that when the ground shifts beneath your feet 

is generally beyond your control;

that some things your parent presents as truth 

is actually wishful thinking 

and

 - spoiler alert - 

 all feet, 

whether clay or flesh 

are attached to mortal beings 

and therefore 

subject to crumbling.

Conversations not for the faint of heart,

although we will deal with whatever comes next -

together

and 

alone.

Cancer Lesson #1

Never tell your hairstylist 

of 25 years 

that you have cancer

while she has sharp scissors in her hand,

posed over your hair.

Or a 'trim' will turn into

the shortest hair you've had in years!

What can I say,

she's easily distracted.

At least if I lose it all from chemo,

I'm halfway there already!

A new chapter begins

It's a lesson I thought I had already learned;

apparently the Universe thought
I needed another tutorial.

The power of a single word 

to change the trajectory of my life.

 YES

as in

"Will you marry me?"

from the love of my young life

or

"Will you quit your job and trust me?"

from God

or

"Will you come back to work 
and be a voice for wounded children again
in a new way?"

from a beloved colleague

~~~~~~~~~~

DIVORCE

as in

"I want a _______."

Suddenly the future I'd envisioned
for myself and my children 

went up in smoke

and I watched in stunned silence

as it vanished,

 though I couldn't see clearly 

through all my tears.

~~~~~~~~~~

CANCER

as in,

"I'm so sorry to tell you, 
but you have ______."

Suddenly all the seemingly disparate symptoms

that have plagued for months,

(years, actually)

made sense

and the feeling of foreboding

I've lived with for weeks

wasn't merely paranoia 

but precognition;

my true self 

giving advance warning,

laying the ground work

to enable the hearing

of 

a 

single

word.

Found

God comes to us not where we should have been 

if we had made all the right choices in life;

 not where we could have been 

if we had taken every opportunity that God has offered us;

 not where we wish we were 

if we didn’t have to be in the place where we find ourselves; 

not where we think we are

because our minds are out of sync with our hearts; 

not where other people think we are
 or think we ought to be 

when they are attending to their own agendas. 

God meets us where we really are.

Aboriginal wisdom

We look up and see the stars shining above

and say, 

"They are bright suns 

and around them are planets, 

possibly with people we will never see."

However when my Aboriginal people looked up at the night sky, 

they didn't see the stars -

they never saw stars.

They only saw the campfires of their ancestors on their journey.

The bright stars were the ancestors who were not long gone; 

the dimmer stars were the ancestors further along on the journey.

Eddie Kneebone
Aboriginal elder

I can't tell you how much I love this interpretation ...
I'll never see the night sky in the same way again.

Ignition

Might be time to go and blow some new life

on the ember

of my madness!

Veterans Day

From my great great grandfather

during the Spanish American War,

to my father

in WW2,

and my son

today

there is a tradition of the men in our family

 serving our country 

in the military.

As most of you know,

this is not something

I wanted my son to do.

I can't imagine that ANY mother ever wanted 

her child to be in harms way,

in ANY generation.

Yet I acknowledge that we owe all who have served

a tremendous debt of gratitude.

Today, 

remember the men who served -

and all the family members with a myriad of feelings as they did.

I suspect they loved and worried about them

every day they were in uniform.

A Tale of Two Journeys

There are parts of the pain that feel familiar;

the pain,

abandonment,

chaos

and terror 

experienced by children

as the adults in their lives careen out of control;

a pain and emptiness that settles in the pit of your stomach,

from which you can't escape

without numbing,

fleeing to rage and lashing out,

or using

whatever substance you prefer 

as a drug of choice.

It's familiar because I've been here before 

in my career.

~~~~~~~~~~

There are parts of the pain that feel familiar 

because the pain currently in front of me 

echoes from the rooms of my own childhood;

a past which,

 though throughly explored,

 now offers up 

unexpected land-mines 

and 

new shrapnel to the heart.

It's familiar because I've been here before 

in my life.

~~~~~~~~~~

And it hurts.

The crying on the drive to work

on Monday mornings 

and

crying on the way home from work most nights

kind of hurt.

Which, not surprisingly, 

led me to think about the last time 

pain was such a constant reality of my day to day life ...

walking the Camino.

I had lunch this weekend 

with a new friend who was inspired by my journey in Spain

to undertake her own;

a journey she successfully completed
and from which she's just returned.

As we shared stories and experiences of our pilgrimages,
it became crystal clear to me that
 my work with children in foster care is
another Camino.

A journey I feel compelled to undertake;
called by God,
for reasons I don't know
and don't begin to understand
but know to be true nonetheless;
leading me to exclaim like the character in 
Shakespeare in Love 

"It's a mystery."

And it is.

And like the Camino,
it's changing me forever;
demanding an intentional commitment from me
every damn day.

Knowing I could quit at any time,
yet trusting that the pain of growing
and doing deeper healing
is a price worth paying.

We don't get our days back.
Contrary to what some of us might like,
there are no do-overs.

The people we meet,
what we feel,
what we do
will never present
in exactly the same way again.

And just because there's pain,
it doesn't negate the moments
of beauty and joy.

Being alive is no small gift.
It's a mystery.
~~~~~~~~~~
I've had a rough few days
not able to see the forest for the trees

but I'm beginning to find my way out
to the other side.

IF, as my Spiritual Director insists,
crying is a form of prayer,
then I've been praying
ALOT!

Apparently our Caminos,
no matter the form they take,
are never over.
~~~~~~~~~~

Does the road wind uphill all the way?

Yes, to the very end.

Will the day's journey take the whole long day?

From morn to night, my friend.

 Christina Georgina Rossetti

It suits;

it feels right

to have a day

wrapped in uncertainty,

in not knowing.

It feels right to move more slowly,

 scanning the environs

for things I can't clearly see coming .

I have no reason why it feels right.

I only know it does.

All Saints

All the ancestors who have carried us to this day 

are now gathering - 

to carry us through tomorrow,

into eternity.

They are blessing us with stories of their lives. 

They are blessing us with their legacy. 

They are - 

and always have been - 

blessing us with an outpouring of their spirit 

which brought us to this day 

and will carry us beyond.

Although these words were written
by someone else
in a different context

I can't imagine a better description of All Saints Day.

It's not just a day of mourning
and remembering
all the ancestors who have gone before;

it's a celebration of all we've inherited

from people we clearly recognize as saints

and, more frequently,
from those we do not.

It's about claiming OUR place
 in the never ending procession.

Alleluia!