Solice

 A little criticism makes me angry and a little rejection makes me depressed.  A little praise raises my spirits, and a little success excites me.  It takes very little to raise me up or thrust me down. 

Henri Nouwen, The Return of the Prodigal Son

In my last post I referred to Pastor Philip's comments about how this parable might have ended differently.  It empowered me and gave me solace in this particularly terrifying time in our history. 

Years ago I was part of a study using Henri Nouwen's book, The Return of the Prodigal Son.  In the quote above, Nouwen is being brutally honest about his inner issues.  

While I can't fully relate to the quote above, I can relate to, along with everything else, having overwhelming feelings of existential anxiety.  

Henri Nouwen was one of our greatest Christian writers.  Particularly, I think, because he was brutally honest about himself.  By doing this, he helped all of us.  (He wrote The Wounded Healer.)  

In the study, we learned that, at a time when Nouwen was feeling particularly down, he visited the Hermitage Museum in St. Petersburg, Russia, where he saw Rembrandt's most famous painting.  He was stunned by its majestic beauty.  He spent more than four hours with the painting that day.  And went back the next day. 

It was a healing experience. 

In 2012, this amazing thing happened to me.  David and I went to St. Petersburg and saw the painting. Since the Hermitage has the largest collection of paintings in the world,  I wondered if we'd even get to it. But we did.  While I didn't feel quite what Nouwen did, I was deeply moved and felt  empowered.  

I want to be like the Father. 

Not only do some art scholars consider Rembrandt's The Return of the Prodigal Son to be the greatest picture ever painted, most biblical scholars consider The Return of the Prodigal Son to be Jesus' greatest parable. 

***

When We All Get to Heaven

 My husband, Ken, died in 2004.  His funeral (or celebration of life) was jam packed with all kinds of people, from church, political and community leaders to street people.  He was a bridge builder for sure.  

In planning the service we chose traditional mainstream hymns.  And there were bagpipes.  But, for the final hymn, I chose the rousing old timey "When We All Get to Heaven."  

Fast forward to this past Sunday morning.  I now watch the church service on my big screen TV.  Pastor Philip preached.  But he was preceded by Pastor David who shared his own feelings of stress about the up coming election...... that some say is the most consequential election our country has ever faced.  

I did not want to deal with this.  Have you ever seen a therapist who ended up telling you all about his or her on issues.  This is how it felt.  I wanted to to turn off the TV.  

But I didn't. 

Prior to the sermon, Pastor Philip told us about a Christian Political Dialog, comprised of church members who were on both sides of the upcoming election.  He showed us a short video of the discussion.  I recognized a close friend in this group.

It took me a while to admit to myself how important this was, even though I was very uncomfortable.  But, with a congregation of several hundred people, it's only right that all voices need to be heard and respected. 

And Pastor David, was right in expressing his own stress, thereby helping us remember we're all in the same boat.  (Even though I felt like turning the TV off and crawling under my bed.)

Later, Pastor Philip preached on Luke 15, the story of the Prodigal Son.  I know this story inside out, as many people do.  But Philip painted a picture at the end that I had never before envisioned.

Remember the older son in the story who was angry because he stayed home and kept his nose clean but his dad never threw him a party?  Philip asked us to envision that, instead, the older son was standing on the porch with his dad, BOTH of them cheering for and embracing the Prodigal. 

I loved that image!  Do I feel less stressful about the upcoming election?  Nope.  But I do know we have to all find a way to live together after the election. 

And I loved Philip's image of reconciliation for all kinds of reasons. 

When we all get to heaven what a day of rejoicing that will be!  When we all see Jesus we will sing and shout with victory. 

***

You can find the October 20th service and a clip of Christian Political Dialog on YouTube at FUMCWP.

The Miracle Club

A couple of days ago I watched this delightful movie on Netflix.  It takes place in 1967 in the United Kingdom.  It stars Dame Maggie Smith in her last role.  The film was made in 2023 and she died last month at age 89. 

It also stars Laura Linney and Kathie Bates.  

The story centers around each of them being able to travel to Lourdes, a town in France and a major Catholic pilgrimage site. In 1858, the Virgin Mary is said to have appeared to a 14 year old peasant girl and told her to dig in the ground nearby, from which came a spring with healing properties.   

Each year millions of people make this pilgrimage.  

So, in one sense, this is a road trip movie.  Unfortunately the waters of the grotto in Lourdes, healed none of those who rode the bus, along with their priest, and others from the their home village in the UK.  

However, in the end, as they exited the bus, every single person in this film experienced healing.  Not in a supernatural way, but in a way I believe God allows most of us to heal.

Now, I want to share with you my own personal miracle.  Two plus months ago, when I was leaving my friend and massage therapist Linda's, office, I dropped my hearing aid in the parking lot.  

I didn't discover this until I got home because I was sure it was in my purse.  (Almost every lost item eventually turns up in my purse.)  I called Linda and she searched for the hearing aid but "no luck."

This hearing aid is very expensive and must be fine tuned.  I wear only one because the hearing in my left ear is kaput!  However, I have its mate, so, after a trip to the audiologist, I was back in business.  

SIX WEEKS LATER Linda called to tell me someone in her office complex had given her the hearing aid that he'd found in the parking lot.  Knowing it would be useless, I told her to hang on to it until our next appointment.  That was yesterday, two month after I'd lost it.  It wasn't smashed like a pancake the way I thought it would be. 

I brought it home, left it in the charger overnight, and BAZINGA!  I'm wearing it right now.

***

    

Don't Know Much About Geography

 Don't know much about geography,  Don't know much trigonometry,   Don't know much about algebra,  Don't know what a slide rule is for...

Lyrics from the great Sam Cook's "Don't Know Much About History."

(My favorite rendition is from the 1985 movie Witness, when Detective Harrison Ford sings it to Amish Kelly McGillis)

This puzzle is huge and took a long, long time to complete.  It covers most of my dining room table.  

But, painstakingly,  I learned some things.  I've never known much about those big western square states.  I had some difficulty lining them up.  

As to the east, I have friends who live half the year in Vermont.  After a trip to Canada, I was telling them about Quebec City and how much it resembled cities in Europe.  They agreed. And said it was about a half hour drive from their house in Vermont.  I thought that was a funny exaggeration. But, after seeing them on this map, I'm not so sure.  

There's a whole bunch of "stuff" stuffed in the northeast corner of our country. 

The puzzle makers chose to display what each state is famous for.  Like Ohio is the Buckeye state.  Not many people know what a buckeye is.  Was the rainbow chosen for Kansas to remind us of "The Wizard of Oz?"   

It was not helpful that they chose to put Hawaii and Alaska in Mexico.  

But I do know that I love you,  and I know that if you love me too, what a wonderful world it would be. 

***

 

Tell Me Everything

My writing style is tight.  I try to eliminate every single word that I deem unnecessary.  Years ago, when part of my job was to edit marketing pieces, they referred to me as "the slasher." I took it as a compliment. 

On the other hand, I love the author Elizabeth Strout.  My niece, Sheri, and I have enjoyed reading her novels for years.  A fun part of her collection is that some of the same characters pop up in every book.  Several of them are in this book.  Olive Kitteridge has been around forever, first as the protagonist and later in other novels, in large and small roles. 

At some point, Lucy Barton took center stage. 

When Sheri sent me Strout's latest book, I thought, "Oh no, I can't read this.  After being ill for the past few months, my brain in not back to its full capacity."

And, trust me, you need brain capacity to read this novel.  It has multiple, multiple characters, doing and saying seemingly unremarkable things. 

But, like Picasso's elusive art pieces "Tell Me Everything" is not on trial.  It's been on the New York Times best seller list for a while.   This past Sunday it was #3.  And, more importantly to some, it's this year's Oprah pick.  

Sheri read her copy over a weekend.  After a couple of weeks I finally finished mine this morning.

Unlike "Seinfeid" this book's not about nothing.  It's about everything.  Following is a quote.

Olive laughed.  She really laughed at that. "Lucy Barton, the stories you told me - as far as I can tell - had very little point to them. Okay, okay, maybe they had subtle points to them. I don't know what the point is to this story!"

"People," Lucy said quietly, leaning back.  "People and the lives they lead.  That's the point."

"Exactly," Olive nodded.

My favorite character in all of Elizabeth Stout's novels is, and has always been, Olive Kitteridge.  My guess would be that she's the favorite of most of Stouts' readers.  Except, possibly, Sheri.  My guess is that Sheri's favorite might be Lucy Barton. 

 Like me, Olive is getting old and slowing down.  She is 91 in this book.  But, as my grandma used to say, still full of vinegar.  My guess is that she might be the favorite of the author as well, since Olive Kitteridge is responsible for Elizabeth Stout winning the Pulitzer Prize. 

Thank you Elizabeth and Sheri for this life affirming book. 

***

Thanks for Memories

Yesterday I returned a glass jar, with beautiful wicker braiding and a little wire handle, to my neighbor.  A couple of weeks prior, after I'd returned from the hospital, she left the jar on my doorstep filled to the brim with flowers.

After removing the flowers and spreading the drying rose petals in my big potpourri basket, I filled the jar with wrapped chocolates and added the card pictured here.  

Then I couldn't get this picture out of my mind. 

I am feeling so very grateful for friends and family and my entire life.  Some of it hard.  Some of it life changing for myself and others.  Some of it scary, but worth it.  

This card was made from one of my husband, David's, paintings.  After years of hard, but meaningful work, we traveled all over Europe.   I remember this street.  I remember having lunch at one of those outside tables.  I remember David telling me that he and his first wife, Audrey, walked down the same street.  I don't remember what country we were in. 

David signed all of his paintings.  Sometimes the signature is hard to find.  In this one, it's on the menu. "Runyan 2016."

***

 

Annie Potts

 I love Annie Potts. I loved her when she was the Ghostbusters sassy secretary.  I loved her as the wisecracking feminist in Designing Women.

And, now, at the age of 71, she's outdone herself as the beautiful, funny, strong, sexy Meemaw on Young Sheldon.  

I especially love the line she often uses "Are you tryin' to kill me?"  Like when she wakes up to young Sheldon beginning an analytical conversation.  Not at home in his own bed, but, unbeknownst to her, sleeping  next to her in her bed,    

23rd surgery

"Are you tryin' to kill me?"

But 71 year old Annie Potts has another story, one that's unbeknownst to many of us.  When she was 21 years old, she was hit, while walking, by a drunk driver.  She was left with every bone in her body below the waist (except one) broken.  

She recently had knee surgery.  But this wasn't her first surgery.  Over the years, she had many, 23 to be exact, including several knee replacements.

I wish every person in their 20s knew Annie Potts' broken body story.  For most of us, life is long, and tragedy happens, but it does not have to define us.

By the way, I sometimes want to say to family members whom I love........"Are you tryin' to kill me?"

***