When I was a kid I sang Kermit’s theme song a thousand times or more.  I guess it’s like the old school version of my little one singing “Let It Go” now.  I apologize that the picture does not look more spectacular, but I do not edit my photos for color.  This is the first time I considered it and I thought to myself no; that is the way it was.  Actually it looked more vibrant in person but this is how it came through on my iPhone.  The more I studied it the more I came to see it is fraught with meaning.  The sky behind it is grey and its colors appear faint when in reality all of the hues could be seen quite definitively.  When I do see rainbows I am always reminded of God’s promises.  I wonder how many times I have not appreciated them more by glimpsing through my own inferior lens.  Sometimes we are too overshadowed by the grey to see them.  Sometimes we do not view them closely enough.  Sometimes we do not gaze heavenward and miss them.  I think of rainbows as our ephemeral connection with God on earth which we have the ability to see; the key is to watch for them.  God gives us rainbows all the time and we are either too busy to notice His promises or perhaps lack the faith to believe in them.  Out of a downpour last night God gave us this.  English writer G. K. Chesterton once said:

“And when it rains on your parade, look up rather than down.  Without the rain, there would be no rainbow.”

I want to have eyes that are open for God’s promises, even when life is full of dark clouds, thunder, lightening, and rain.  I know this, too shall pass and, if I stay faithful and keep looking up I will see it:  the rainbow connection.

Today is the day many Christians pay homage to the Mother of Our Lord, the virgin mother of Jesus Christ, dating back to the earliest days of the Church.  Besides Jesus himself, only two humans have been mentioned in the Creeds.  One is Pontius Pilate, the Roman procurator of Judea from 26 to 36 AD.  That Christ was crucified by his order narrows the date of His death within a few years.  It also certifies it is an event in history; something that actually happened.  The other name spoken is that of Mary.  The Creeds say Jesus “was born of the Virgin Mary” which asserts that he was truly human and yet fully divine.  A right regard for her will always direct us to Him who found in her His first earthly dwelling-place.  Mary tells us to listen to Him and to do as He says.  She is truly blessed among women and is the only human being upon whom God bestowed such an incredible honor.  Ave Maria.

Time flies.  I find it especially true as I get older.  I remember when summers lasted an eternity and school went on forever.  Now I look at the calendar three months out, blink, and it has come and gone.  Nothing brings that point home more than seeing pictures of my little one.  She went from being a much prayed-for dream, to something I could feel but not really see, to this huge-eyed angel with strawberry blonde peach fuzz, to my little girl with a mop full of curls.  And it all happened before I knew it.  As fleeting as the beating of a butterfly’s wings, she has said her first words, taken her first steps, laughed, prayed, written her name, and played.  American cartoonist Bil Keane is credited with the saying:

“Yesterday’s the past, tomorrow’s the future, but today is a gift.  That’s why it’s called the present.”

And so I shall close my computer for today and spend the precious gift of time I have been given with my sweet family.  I hope you enjoy the present you have been given as well.

I was at a little chapel recently and discovered they actually make dashboard saints for your car.  As I have written previously I am not Catholic, and I personally do not believe anyone is worshipping those saints directly.  I have heard it often said the Blessed Virgin Mary points the way to her Son, Jesus Christ.  She is a reminder to me as a woman of how God chose her above all others and she is of great comfort to me whenever I see her.  I am drawn in particular to images of Our Lady of Grace, which you see pictured here.  It is said the Virgin Mary appeared to a Parisian nun, Catherine Laboure (now sainted) in 1830.  Her incorruptible body is interred in a chapel in Paris which continues to receive daily visits from people all over the world.  Through the glass it appears as if she is simply sleeping.  As I was looking at Mother Mary’s image through the little box I found this on the back:

“Grant me O Lord a steady hand and watchful eye.  That no one shall be hurt as I pass by.  You gave me life, I pray no act of mine may take away or mar that gift from You.  Shelter those, dear Lord, who bear me company.  From the evils of fire and all calamity.  Teach me to use my car for others’ need; Nor miss through love of undue speed.  The beauty of the world; that thus I may with joy and courtesy go on my way.”

She is daily reminder to me to watch my actions, my thoughts, my words, and my heart; to slow down, be kinder, more compassionate, and to pray more.  So if you see a car with a robed woman on the dash, know there is a woman behind the wheel who is trying to be more like her.

When I was sixteen years old, I clearly and vividly remember announcing in study hall that I would get married on June 16th.  Why?  Because June was my favorite month and sixteen was my lucky number; it made perfect sense.  I remember the jeans I had on and who was sitting in front of me.  Little did I know, it would take TWENTY YEARS for this to come to pass.  My life goal was never to be a princess and have a huge wedding but I always knew I wanted to have my own family.  My father impressed upon me the importance of an education so when I was in college I was there to learn.  No one gave me the memo to shop as a freshman and make sure to clench the deal by senior year; I was too busy working two jobs and trying to maintain my academic scholarship to SMU to give too much attention to boys.  I was truly not upset when I turned 30 and was not married.  I never felt some invisible time table crashing down upon me.  But as I grew older I decided to make June 16 “my” day because I began to fear it might not happen for me.  Instead of lamenting it, I tried to make it a positive and it became a sort of birthday/personal day rolled into one.  I would take off work or go out with a girlfriend.  My favorite memory is of going to see Gerard Depardieu in “Cyrano de Bergerac” alone in the middle of the afternoon.  I had never been to a movie by myself before and I remember I snuck in a blue Nehi creme soda and a box of Junior Mints.  When I was 35 I would meet my future husband after the fourth of July and he asked me to marry him at the top of Reunion Tower (God’s microphone as it is sometimes called) during a special dinner a little over a year later.  We are Episcopalian and one cannot simply get married whenever.  For instance, Christ was crucified on a Friday.  And there is the penitential season of Lent to consider in anticipation of the celebration of Jesus’ resurrection at Easter.  So it goes without saying Saturday weddings are at a premium.  He proposed to me right before my 36th birthday in October.  I proudly and excitedly dialed up the church secretary the very next day hoping something would be available in the summer.  I figured there were gushing 20 somethings who had been planning their weddings for over two years and a lot of dates would already be gone.  Knowing the information I have just given I am quite sure you can understand what I was up against.  The secretary informed me they had just ONE date and ONE time left after Easter all the way through the end of summer.  With an air of resignation, I asked when it was as it would seem my wedding date had been chosen for me.  “All we have open is June 16th” she said as I heard a sort of distant roaring in my ears.  As God is my witness, it NEVER ONCE occurred to me that June 16th was ever an option.  After all, how often did it even fall on a Saturday — once every seven years?  I don’t know; I was a journalist major.  I HAD NO — ABSOLUTELY NO — IDEA JUNE 16TH FELL ON A SATURDAY IN 2007; MUCH LESS THAT IT WOULD BE THE ONE DAY AVAILABLE!!!!!  “JUNE 16?!  JUNE 16?!”  I shrieked into the phone.  “Yes … I’m sorry that’s all we have” said the somewhat freaked out church secretary.  “I’LL TAKE IT!!!” I shouted and she said she would reserve the date for us.  “Oh wait; there is another wedding that day,” she muttered as my heart dropped to the floor.  “So the only time available would be in the evening.”  To this day I STILL cannot quite believe it.  That, my friends, is what I call God’s faithfulness.  And so, the sixteen year old girl who so wished for a handsome husband who would always love her wound up with the fairytale wedding she never thought she would have.  The church was packed, white candles were lit on the ends of pews, incense rose high in the air past the stained glass, the choir sang Mozart’s “Laudulate Dominum” and Biebl’s “Ave Maria” and I wore a beautiful cathedral length gown and veil starting at the crown of my head extending past my train.  I have no idea why I’d proclaimed it at 16 and 20 years is a long wait.  But I know our time is not God’s time and he granted me desires of my heart I did not even know I had.  Jeremiah 29:11-13 says,

“For I know the plans I have for you,” declares the Lord, “plans to prosper you and not to harm you, plans to give you hope and a future.  Then you will call on me and come and pray to me, and I will listen to you.  You will seek me and find me when you seek me with all your heart.”

I am so grateful I did; thanks be to God.

Almost six weeks ago I wrote about being slung in a sling.  The follow up to that is I went around for a week with a fractured shoulder before breaking down (another unintentional pun) and going in to see my primary physician.  She suggested having it x-rayed again and I had my answer as to why my arm was hurting so badly.  This is the second bone I have broken in my life.  The first was my ankle in gym class when I was twelve; it still aches to this day.  I am hoping that will not be the case with my shoulder and have just started physical therapy.  I had never been before and it was almost like being in a spa.  I got heat and ice and relaxed on a table with the lights off while the therapist gently rotated my arm … and then I got home.  Oh my word I cannot believe how sore I was!  Still, I am grateful she expects me to regain full range of motion.  I look at this as an opportunity to realize never to take good health for granted.  I feel this picture is more like a Rorschach test but it is of course a model of a shoulder.  The part I fractured is by the rotator cuff in the front.  Personally, I see an elephant.  The British philosopher Alan Watts once said, “Reality is only a rorschach ink-blot, you know.”  I think his statement is a greater view for how we all see our lives.  The richest can feel impoverished and the poorest can feel the most blessed; it’s all in one’s perception.  As for me, I am too blessed to be stressed as they say.  I wish the same for you; be blessed wherever you are.  Pray for others, that they realize they are blessed, too.

I have seen a lot of things:  I have seen people discriminated against for no reason; I have seen people treated like freaks simply because they were different.  Unfortunately, I have not seen a lot of compassion and understanding between highly differing ideologies.  I have no earthly idea about the two men on whom I am about to write but I shall attempt to convey what I know.  My little one and I frequent a certain grocery store because it carries organic, gluten free, etc.  I will confess though that my husband, a very staid, cradle Episcopalian, refers to their help as “hippy granola”.  There is whom I believe to be a transgendered individual working there who is a white man but with long, flowing green hair.  I do NOT wish to speak for him; this is simply what I have observed.  On the polar opposite end of the spectrum is a man from West Africa who is clearly an evangelical Christian.  I think he makes people uncomfortable with his continual singing, whether he is in line bagging or simply walking around.  Even if I were not Christian I find him infectious and uplifting.  But I notice a lot of people — from workers to customers — simply do not know what to do with him.  How sad it is indeed that someone cannot recognize joy when they see it; even if it does not come from their own particular ideology.  The neat thing is I have witnessed an incredible comradery between these two men.  How unexpected; and how lovely.  While I have watched people shrink away from both men I have seen this incongruous pair joke and comfortably chat with each other — and it has made my heart soar.  They could not be more divergent; and yet each is GENUINELY accepting of the other.  What a lesson I find we can all learn from these two.  Stop staring at the person with the green hair scanning your groceries and stop staring at the man who is openly singing “Allelujah!” as he bags your groceries.  Just take them as they are.  Were they kind to you during your check-out?  Well then, there you go.  No one is trying to push their agenda on you — whether it is the gay guy or the highly evangelical guy; they are simply trying to lead their own lives.  Israeli leader Golda Meir once said, “Trust yourself.  Create the kind of self that you will be happy to live with all your life.  Make the most of yourself by fanning the tiny, inner sparks of possibility into flames of achievement.”  I believe both men are doing that; and my little one is happy with each of them.  Live and let live.  Pray if you choose but allow people to be who they are and just accept them.  God created each one of us and I believe we should respect that.  Can I get an “Amen”?

As you can see, I made sure my little one wore red today.  I was explaining to her many Christians wear red to church on the 50th day after Easter, Pentecost, because it celebrates the descent of the Holy Spirit upon the Apostles and other followers of Jesus Christ.  The red represents the fire that came down from heaven as described in the Acts of the Apostles.  Chapter 2:1-4 says:

When the day of Pentecost had fully come, they were all with one accord in one place.  And suddenly there came a sound from heaven, as of a rushing mighty wind, and it filled the whole house where they were sitting.  Then there appeared to them divided tongues, as of fire, and one sat upon each of them.  And they were all filled with the Holy Spirit and began to speak with other tongues, as the Spirit gave them utterance. ~ New King James Version

Of course it is incredible that people would begin speaking other’s languages.  This sparked a whole lot of “So was someone speaking Spanish?”, “FIRE BURNS!”, and (my personal favorite) “When is pink day?”  I told her God allowed them to speak every language on earth at that time (praying that was the right answer) and that I did not think the fire burned them because it was holy (again, praying that was right).  Lastly I told my little one that every day was pink day because pink is for love and God loves everybody everywhere all the time no matter what.  And with that, she now has “sound religious doctrine” upon which to base her continual wearing of pink.  I suppose with God we are all in the pink.

They didn’t have children’s bulletins at church when I was a kid.  One had to be content with drawing on the back of offering envelopes and using them to ask when it was time to go to the cafeteria.  Once in the fourth grade I got caught with my shoes off and I was an acolyte.  Our church used to be on TV and I remember the camera man turning to film me.  Fortunately I was paying attention so I didn’t get in trouble with my folks.  For some time now our church has provided the “Children’s Worship Bulletin” and I think they are really wonderful.  Each week is different and there is a scripture that correlates with the sermon.  This one was entitled “Jesus Appears by the Sea” and was so fun; the front had a maze of ocean waves you had to follow to reach Jesus.  Inside one had to circle the correct number of times Jesus asked Peter, “Do you love me?” by finding the question marks.  The next page was a coded message (I LIVED for codes when I was a kid!) and the back you see pictured here.  In addition the whole thing is a four page coloring book.  And our church even provides the crayons.  I have seen my four year old trace her name from school but never any thing else.  Matthew 21:16 (from the American King James Version) says:

And said to him, Hear you what these say?  And Jesus said to them, Yes; have you never read, Out of the mouth of babes and sucklings you have perfected praise?

I looked down to discover the first words my child would ever trace.  I was stunned as they lept out at me from the page.  They were the words of Christ:  simply, “‘Follow me.'”  Out of the mouths of babes …

It was an honor and a privilege to hear Canon Andrew White preach at our church today.  He was the vicar of St. George’s Church in Baghdad, the only Anglican church in Iraq, until he was ordered by the Archbishop of Canterbury (the head of the Anglican church) to leave for the sake of his own security.  He was already preaching in a bullet proof vest.  Members of his family had been threatened and, heartbreakingly, some were killed after refusing to deny Jesus Christ.  I am not sure he would want me to write of the evils of ISIS; rather I believe he would want me to speak of the urgent and fervent need for the immediate and daily prayer by all Christians for our brothers and sisters in Christ all around the world.  This is not Nero’s time, which hardly seemed believable.  But it is every bit as bad.  Canon White speaks Aramaic; THE LANGUAGE OF JESUS CHRIST!  Just hearing him repeating our Savior’s language was incredible.  Christ lived and Christ will come again.  When I was a little girl we used to eat a lot at this nice restaurant (probably run by Baptists — no offense) and I would have to look at this painting each time we passed by on Sundays.  It was of The Rapture and it showed all these cars crashing into one another with the peoples’ spirits ascending into heaven.  I hated it and it frightened me.  I asked my daddy about it and he told me that since the time Christ was crucified people had believed we were in the “End Times”.  And then he said that Christ shall come like a thief in the night (quoting scripture:  1 Thessalonians 5:2) and that “no man knoweth the day or hour” (Matthew 24:36) when Christ shall return and that helped me.  I do not wish to engage in a philosophical discussion of pre-millenium versus post millennium tribulation.  I only know that as a child my father gave me the reassurance that we believed in Him and that He would not forsake us.  I found Father White to be witty, engaging and wearing a mantle of sorrow I am not sure whether or not he was even trying to show.  The man is a soldier in the army of Jesus Christ and a true believer who has seen his convictions put to the test.  I am reminded of the scripture in St. John Chapter 14 verse 2 (King James Version):  “In my Father’s house are many mansions:  if it were not so, I would have told you.  I go to prepare a place for you.”  Let us all stand together — sincerely praying for those who are suffering for Jesus Christ’s sake —  with the assurance that He has prepared a place for us whenever that may be.  We pray for our enemies; that they may feel the power and love of Jesus Christ.  And, whomever you are and wherever you may be reading this — do not doubt for one moment the love our Savior Jesus Christ has for you.  And do not doubt the power of prayer.

“The desire is thy prayers; and if thy desire is without ceasing, thy prayer will also be without ceasing.  The continuance of your longing is the continuance of your prayer.  ~  Saint Augustine

May God have mercy upon all His children who are suffering, and may we truly and earnestly pray for all those who are on the front lines on our behalf.  For those who have read my blog, I am quite sure by now you have figured out I am fond of citing one quote each day.  But today I shall give two:

German Lutheran Pastor Martin Niemolller famously wrote:

“First they came for the Socialists, and I did not speak out—
Because I was not a Socialist.

Then they came for the Trade Unionists, and I did not speak out—
Because I was not a Trade Unionist.

Then they came for the Jews, and I did not speak out—
Because I was not a Jew.

Then they came for me—and there was no one left to speak for me.”