Coffee & Conversation

I just read the newly posted newsletter which opened with Father Marty’s always inspiring words.  I felt compelled to act right way, first to thank Marty for his loving work at St. George’s and all the work he does in God’s kingdom, things that we know about, and many that we do not.  Marty’s first day “on the job” at St. George’s was the first service I attended there, and I fell in love with him and the church right away.  Next, thank you to Kate, Hope, and all the office staff who work so hard and do such a beautiful job with the newsletter and keeping everyone informed.  One of the things that I am personally most thankful for is the ability to read and write.  I was thinking as I was reading the newsletter what a blessing it is to be able to share experiences even when we can’t actually participate by being present.  We all have such busy lives and there’s a limit to how many things we can actually go to, even if we want to.   But the next best thing to actually being in a place is to hear about it from someone who was there.  Reading about it and seeing pictures let’s your imagination drift into the experience.  Can you imagine what life would be like if there was nothing to read!  We wouldn’t know about anything!  As usual when I start thinking about things like this, my mind wanders into “space” and I wonder about the first words ever written, the first person to ever think about picking up a writing instrument and putting something down on paper.  About the creation of language, the alphabet, grammar and spelling.  Where and how did it all begin?  Fast forward a few thousand years, and look around us today with so many forms of media used for communicating with each other.  I have always loved to read and I’ve always enjoyed listening to stories, whether fact or fiction!  Some of my earliest childhood memories are filled with wonderful times spent with my father, reading my sister and me nightly bedtime stories.  No matter what kind of day it had been, he always made time for this special event, knowing how much we loved it.  He would read a chapter or two each night, just enough to fill our heads with visions of different worlds, different lives, places, people, adventures, laughter, suspense.  We would beg him to read longer each day, but part of the joy was drifting off to sleep, imagining being in that very place he had told us about in the midst of some adventure.  Some of my favorites were stories of the American South – Tom Sawyer and Huckleberry Finn.  We  lived in such a different world – a large, bustling city with a large population, lots of roads, buildings and concrete!.  Hearing about Tom and Huck, their simple lives spent outside fishin’ and misbehavin’, was such a thrill.  Their adventures leading them through swamps filled with gators, snakes and all kinds of critters, not to mention suspicious sounding characters like “Injun Joe”.  Canoes and camping.  Fishing poles made of twigs and strings.  Family gatherings with fried chicken and home baked apple pie.   I think it is some kind of personal destiny that my path should bring me here to the place I dreamed about, and to find that it is just as awesome as I thought it would be.  (Although I try to stay out of the way of the snakes and gators!).  I love writing about experiences, but even more, I love reading about the experiences of other people, especially stories of travel and nature, as it adds to my own experience, giving me an idea of what it would be like to be in those places.  I’ve recently discovered a wonderful new source, another on-line blog, and I’ve asked the author for permission to share some of the accounts on the St. George blog space.  It is nature living at its finest, and takes me to places I wouldn’t otherwise get the chance to experience.  I think you’ll see what I mean when you read it.  Pictures too!  I will end here with this note of thanks to God – for our brains, our imagination, and the gift of the written word.  So keep writing and sharing all your stories.  You never know what a blessing it might be to someone who may not be able to experience it otherwise.

It’s amazing what you find out when you actually talk to people!  Over the past few months, I have come to know many wonderful people at St. George’s.  Each week that passes by, I meet more new people and enjoy finding out about so many common interests.  Maybe it is because our congregation is based on St. George Island, such a beautiful and serene place, that the people in and around the church seem to match.  I was telling someone today that I had never felt really sure about becoming a member of any church since I arrived in America in 1976, that is, not until I found St. George’s.

I grew up in a church family, a small parish, and the church really was a part of our every day lives.  Our vicar, Mr. Evans, was a jolly, middle aged Welsh man (with a thick Welsh accent) who rode around everywhere on his bicycle as he did not own a car.  He and Mrs. Evans lived in the parish vicarage, a small, simple cottage type house, nothing fancy.  Mr. Evans knew everyone in the parish, especially the children.  He knew your name, when you were born, where you lived, etc.  He instinctively knew where we were supposed to be at any given time.  Should he come upon us while out and about on his bicycle,  he would simply give us “the eye” and we knew we were caught and better get back to what we were supposed to be doing.  He was never stern or cross with us.  I don’t ever remember him raising his voice.  He didn’t have to.

We didn’t have a church secretary, or office staff (or even an office for that matter).  Mrs. Evans took care of all the church business, including making cakes and cookies to take around to the sick and elderly.  If anyone in the parish needed anything, they would just go and knock on the front door of the vicarage.  The church survived on donations from the weekly collections, two services on Sundays and one on Wednesday, as well as more substantial donations from the wealthier parishioners.  Since I was in the choir and spent quite a bit of time in and around the church, I was sometimes “recruited” to help out with various tasks.  I remember going with Mr. Evans one day to empty the donation boxes as it was time to do the books.  By the main door entrance, there were 4 letter box type  holes in the wall so that people could select which area of need they wanted to donate to.  One was flowers, another was building & grounds, another was for the sick & poor, and I forget what the last one was for.  My mother would give us a handful of spare change on Sundays to put in the donation box.  I always carefully considered which one I would pick, trying to make sure that over a period of time I had covered all the bases.  It was a small but empowering decision to make each week.  I would see others making the same kind of deliberations, and the ensuing satisfaction after the decision was made and the money put in the right box.

To my great surprise, when Mr. Evans took out his church keys to open up the boxes, there was one big hole in the wall, with all the money in one place, not the four individual boxes.  My wide eyes and open mouth prompted Mr. Evans to explain this newly revealed system, and once I understood the concept, it was a much broader and more powerful lesson than it first appeared to be.  As the leader and caretaker of the church, Mr. Evans was responsible to see that all needs were met to the best of his ability.  There were never enough donations to cover everything.  There were the “must have to survive” priorities, and the “nice to have” extras.  He said that while it is nice to have the church filled with flowers, or get new bible covers, or something like that – it was much more important that an elderly parishioner had help to pay her heating bill in a harsh winter month or that a young mother had enough food for her children.  He said (with a twinkle in his eye) that sometimes it was good to go a couple of weeks without any flowers, because donations in the “flower” box would go up considerably.   He said that God works in the same way – the priorities have to get taken care of first, and that we shouldn’t worry about anything we pray for.  All the prayers go into the same box, then it is up to God to take care of all the needs, in His order, not ours.  It all made sense and I could see from his explanation that it was a really good system after all.  I still enjoyed putting my coins in each of the 4 boxes, and watching others making their selections.  The difference was that I now knew something a little extra, something about the  good purpose of the box(es)… and I knew that because of the system,  and a call for more flower donations, Mr. Evans could take care of the needs of the church.  It just gave me a warm and fuzzy feeling

If you didn’t know what Auto-Tune is then shame on you.
Youtube is busting over with them. They are witty, comical, and make a good beat to dead beat politicians.
http://www.youtube.com/user/schmoyoho
Watch them in order.
They are great to get a few laughs in the day.

Sounds pretty simple, huh?

May God rest the soul of little 7-year old Somer Thompson and bring loving peace and strength to her family.  Let us remember and pray for all the innocent children everywhere in the world who are suffering in harm’s way. This is just another devastating reminder of the wickedness in the world perpetrated upon the most vulnerable among us.

Thursday’s Reflection:  Let there be hope~

Hope opens and sustains something in the human heart. Like shutters slowly parting to admit a winter dawn, hope permits strands of light to make their way to us, even when we still stand in cold darkness; but hope also reveals a landscape beyond us into which we can live and move and have our being. With hope, closely held,  interior thoughts are gently turned outward; deep desires, perhaps long hidden in secret corners of our heart, might be lifted up to the light. At times, hope peels back the edges of our imagination to free what waits underneath — a changed life, a new resolve filled with possibilities.  A resounding “Yes…I can.”  ”Yes…I will.”  In other moments hope dares us to unfold a layer of desire — for courage, clarity and direction.  For patience, peace and love.  For purpose – and the fulfillment of God’s plan.

Adapted from:  Simply Wait: Cultivating Stillness in the Season of Advent by Pamela C. Hawkins

From Job 42:1-2

Job answered God: “I’m convinced: You can do anything and everything. Nothing and no one can upset your plans.”

Beach Service & Picnic, Little Talbot Island State Park , 10:30 AM, October 25, 2009, Directions from St. George’s and Map

 Youth Group Pantry Raid, October 25, 2009

Rethinking Justice Workshop, October 26, 2009, 6:00-8:00 p.m., St. Paul AME Church , 6910 New Kings Rd., Jacksonville, 32219

 Halloween Party for the all the children of St. George’s, November 1, 2009, 5:00 p.m. – 8:00 p.m., Terry Hall 

 ECW Meeting,  Saturday, November 7, 2009, 10:00 a.m., Terry Hall

 Second Annual St. George/Jaguars Tailgating Party, November 8, 2009 , 10:00 AM – Noon

I thought this was a good reflection today.  This is from the website www.upperroom.org.  I subscribe to the daily e-mail reflections, which always give me food for thought

Monday’s Reflection

[THE STORY OF THE BLIND BEGGAR Bartimaeus has become] for me a wonderful metaphor of sincere and respectful depth listening. … Bartimaeus (Mark 10:46-52) who sits by the roadside hopefully calling out to Jesus to pay attention to him and heal him. Some of the people in the crowd try to hush him up. (Probably they felt, as we so often do, that he should set his mind on “higher things.”) The more they try to silence him, the louder he shouts. Jesus turns to him instantly and asks, “What do you want me to do for you?”

Within each of us is that which cries out, begging to be heard. Often the manner of its crying out is expressed through grumbling, negativity, irritability, anxiety. To shout down the cry, to put it out of the room, to breathe it away, or to shake it off is not the Christian, the incarnational way. Let us learn to pay attention, to listen, and to question that which cries out in us: Who are you? What are you trying to tell me? And then let us learn to listen and respond to Jesus’ question: “What do you want me to do for you?” It is both astonishing and revealing what will surface if we keep patiently asking and listening to our inner Bartimaeus!

- Flora Slosson Wuellner
Feed My Shepherds: Spiritual Healing and Renewal for Those in Christian Leadership

From pp. 67-68 of Feed My Shepherds: Spiritual Healing and Renewal for Those in Christian Leadership, by Flora Slosson Wuellner. Copyright © 1998 by the author. All Rights Reserved. Used by permission of Upper Room Books. http://www.upperroom.org/bookstore/.Learn more about or purchase this book.

Today’s Question

What is your inner Bartimaeus trying to say? Share your thoughts.

Today’s Scripture Reading

Jesus said to [Bartimaeus], “What do you want me to do for you?” The blind man said to him, “My teacher, let me see again.”

- Mark 10:51, NRSV

This Week …

Special Need:

This Week: Pray for bountiful harvests everywhere. Add your prayer to the Prayer Wall.

Tips for Your Spirit:

Lectio Divina, or divine reading, is one of the most central and ancient practices of Christian prayer. Try lectio divina in your meditation time this week. Check it out.

Saints, Inc.:

This week we remember Howard Thurman (October 22).

Lectionary Readings:

• Job 42:1-6, 10-17
• Psalm 34:1-8, 19-22
• Hebrews 7:23-28
• Mark 10:46-52

Sponsored by The Upper Room daily devotional guide. Subscribe Today.

Copyright © 2009 The Upper Room | PO Box 340004 | Nashville, TN 37203-0004 | USA

Our Inner Bartimaeus is a post from: Upper Room Daily Reflections

This was a beautiful little Episcopal chapel in the Grand Teton National Park, the Chapel of the Transfiguration.  There was a plaque with a great explanation of why they named it that, describing how mountains have been portrayed in scripture, from Abraham and Moses to Jesus’ transfiguration.  So they built their chapel with the mountains in the window behind the altar.  Hopefully the progression of images shows the original image from 1925, then mine from the outside moving in.  Just awesome!

Well, this is my first posting!

 I’m so excited.  I’ve never blogged before!  I hope this thing has a spell check…  I’m computer literate, but this whole wide inter-web thing is sort of new to me. 

So, I’m supposed to write something humorous designed to help people get through the day.  Oh my.  The irony here is that lately I get through the better part of my day by dodging phone calls I’m too flustered to take and eating fried food.  Which reminds me, anybody know where I can get a Monte Cristo now that Bennigans shut down?

Since I’ve never blogged before, I’m not sure what I should do, so I think I’m going to make this a two-for.  Or, as Hope taught me, a BOGO (buy one/get one).  As this is my first posting, I figure I should introduce myself, and nothing helps me get through the day better than my boys!  As such, I think I will include some pictures of them since, as TV taught me, the simple act of petting a dog reduces your chances for heart disease…and there’s no better way to get through the day than avoiding a heart attack.  (And yes, I know, my previously mentioned fried food is counter-productive to this endeavor—I’m a glorious dichotomy.) 

One “churchy” thing about me is that I love the Sundays when we have the blessing of the animals.  If you weren’t there a couple of weeks ago, you missed something that made me smile for a straight hour!  I’m a huge animal person and when I first heard our church did this, I thought it was a joke.  I love watching the dogs pace the aisle as the cats (and occasional chicken) sit warily in their pet porters.  I especially love it when they bark or whine or “talk” during the prayers, as if joining in.  When I was little, I asked my mother if dogs went to heaven.  I could tell she wasn’t expecting the question and wasn’t quite sure how to answer, but I love what she said.  She told me that she couldn’t imagine why not, since we know that there are horses in heaven.  In true Baptist fashion, she was referring to the apocalypse, but it still brought me great hope. 

As an adult, I have ended up with three dogs and a cat, who I adore.  I would love to bring them for their blessings, but they’re so ill-behaved I don’t dare.  So, since I can’t bring them to church, please allow me to introduce my boys here as I hope they will make you smile.

Ferguson Wylie Causey-King (yes, they hyphenate) was my first-born.  Jason got him for me as a puppy when we moved away from my home state of Mississippi to help me get over being homesick.  He is a short haired, miniature red dachshund who barks constantly, hates being outdoors and is highly motivated by food.  I call him “mini-me” and we plan on being buried together, as, thanks to my mother, I have no doubt we will share our afterlife. 

 

Odell Eliot Causey-King came along shortly after.  He was a cat who Jason found in the park he was working at during a prescribed burn.  Apparently, the mother got separated from her litter of kittens, so Jason found homes for all but one of them and brought home the “runt.”  I am a dog person and Odell could sense it.  As such, he made it his mission in life to make me love him most.  Being raised by Ferguson, he is ridiculously dog-like and is by far, the most wonderful cat in the world.  He also grew to be among the biggest cats I have ever seen, and is my mighty panther.

 

That brings me to Otis Jackson Causey-King.  Otis belonged to a co-worker who was going to have to take him to the pound as her land-lord laid down the law.  I couldn’t let that happen and brought him home, telling Jason that we were just dog-sitting for the weekend.  Like Odell, Otis knew what he had to do, and by Monday had Jason wrapped around his paw.  They are inseparable. 

 

Finally, there’s Baxter Ribault Causey-King…the ugliest dog in the world.  Abandoned and left tied to a gate at Fort Caroline, Jason found him and called me to see what I thought about adopting a Shih tzu.  I said I didn’t like that idea at all as they were dirty and high maintenance.  He asked if he should take the dog to the vet or the pound and I told him the pound, since I knew if he took him to the vet, he’d name him something silly like “Baxter” and would bring him home.  You can see how that turned out.  While not pretty by any definition, a little grooming went a long way for him. 

 Before:

After:

So, that’s it:  my first post and an introduction to my boys.  In retrospect, I should have probably said something about my partner, Jason, but it’s best he knows his place…maybe later.       

So go, pet a dog, avoid heart issues and make it through the day!  I think we’d all be better off if we were as excited to wake up each morning as my little angels are. 

And seriously, if you know about that Monte Cristo, call me.

Okay, I admit it.  I’m in the closet.  No, not that one…the other one where I love diva pop singers.  When I first heard Beyonce sing that “Put a Ring On It” song, I was in my car driving home from work and I immediate broke out into spontaneous dance. 

For the record, I am a very enthusiastic dancer.  One with no rhythm whatsoever. 

All the same, I screeched into my garage, jumped out of the car and ran into the house to jot down the name of the song on a post-it note so that I would remember to play it at my reception once the state allows me to have a civil union.  Don’ worry, though…I’m not going there. 

With that history in mind, imagine my laughter when my boss sent me the following video this past Friday as an attempt to try and get me to be in a good mood for some other reason than it just being the end of the week.  I hope you enjoy it as much as I do…and I dare you not to smile (and if you succeed…I’m not sure I want you to read my stuff anymore).     Just click here: Dancing Baby !!!