Kate requested that I post this for you all to see. You'll have to follow the link, as I haven't figured out yet how to get the actual image on here. So this is from Kate. Enjoy!
http://www.godtube.com/view_video.php?viewkey=dc2f048762b98cb7ad78
Friday, November 21, 2008
Thursday, November 20, 2008
Lyrics to In This Place
1. We are all hungry people, we need shelter and strength.We are one in our hurting, we are one in our pain.In our suff'ring and sadness,we are saved by the graceof the power and the Spirit that is here in this place.
RefrainWe are gathered at table*as one in the Lord.We are gathered as people who are living the Word.Our hearts and our spirits are nurtured by grace.It is Jesus who fills us. He is here in this place.
2. All our lives are a Myst'ry;we see not where they lead.We are asked now to trust youand we know we must believe.As our feet become Christ's feet,we go forth with the graceof the power and the Spirit that is here in this place.
3. Though the world may tell us to look at ourselves,we reach out to anotherwhere suffering dwells. As our hands become Christ's hands,we are healed by the graceof the power and the Spirit that is here in this place.
4. In the bread that is brokenis the Christ that restores. As we take, now receive him,we find love evermore.As the bread becomes Body, we are filled with the graceof the power and the Spirit that is here in this place.
RefrainWe are gathered at table*as one in the Lord.We are gathered as people who are living the Word.Our hearts and our spirits are nurtured by grace.It is Jesus who fills us. He is here in this place.
2. All our lives are a Myst'ry;we see not where they lead.We are asked now to trust youand we know we must believe.As our feet become Christ's feet,we go forth with the graceof the power and the Spirit that is here in this place.
3. Though the world may tell us to look at ourselves,we reach out to anotherwhere suffering dwells. As our hands become Christ's hands,we are healed by the graceof the power and the Spirit that is here in this place.
4. In the bread that is brokenis the Christ that restores. As we take, now receive him,we find love evermore.As the bread becomes Body, we are filled with the graceof the power and the Spirit that is here in this place.
Tuesday, November 18, 2008
Invisible Mother - Posted for Stephanie
Hi All --I wanted to share this with you. It's called "Invisible Mother" -- I received it today and I am not real savvy at copying and pasting, but I think you can understand the message. Enjoy!Invisible Mother.....
It all began to make sense, the blank stares, the lack of response, the way one of the kids will walk into the room while I'm on the phone and ask to be taken to somewhere. Inside I'm thinking, 'Can't you see I'm on the phone?' Obviously not; no one can see if I'm on the phone, or cooking, or sweeping the floor, or even standing on my head in the corner, because no one can see me at all. I'm invisible. The invisible Mom. Some days I am only a pair of hands, nothing more: Can you fix this ? Can you tie this? Can you open this? Can I have some money?
Some days I'm not a pair of hands; I'm not even a human being. I'm a clock to ask, 'What time is it?' or I'm a car to order, 'Right around 8:30, please.'
I was certain that these were the hands that once held books and the eyes that studied history and the mind that graduated college- but now they had disappeared into the peanut butter, never to be seen again.
She's going, she's going, she's gone!
One night, a group of us were having dinner, celebrating the return of a friend from England. She had just gotten back from a fabulous trip, and she was going on and on about the hotel she stayed in. I was sitting there, looking around at the others all put together so well. It was hard not to compare and feel sorry for myself. I was feeling pretty pathetic, when she turned to me with a beautifully wrapped package, and said, 'I brought you this.' It was a book on the great cathedrals of Europe. Initially I had thought, oh she remembered I wanted to travel this year. Until I read her inscription: "With admiration for the greatness of what you are building when no one sees.'
In the days ahead I would read - no, devour - the book. And I would discover what would become for me, four life-changing truths, after which I could pattern my work: No one can say who built the great cathedrals - we have no record of their names. These builders gave their whole lives for a work they would never see finished. They made great sacrifices and expected no credit. The passion of their building was fueled by their faith that the eyes of God saw everything.
A legendary story in the book told of a rich man who came to visit the cathedral while it was being built, and he saw a workman carving a tiny bird on the inside of a beam. He was puzzled and asked the man, 'Why are you spending so much time carving that bird into a beam that will be covered by the roof? No one will ever see it.' And the workman replied, 'Because God sees.'
I closed the book, feeling the missing piece fall into place. It was almost as if I heard God whispering to me, 'I see you, I see the sacrifices you make every day, even when no one around you does. No act of kindness you've done, no button you've sewn on, no cupcake you've baked, is too small for me to notice and smile over. You are building a great cathedral, but you can't see right now what it will become.'
A t times, my invisibility feels like an affliction. But it is not a disease that is erasing my life. It is the cure for the disease of my own self-centeredness. It is the antidote to my strong, stubborn pride.
I keep the right perspective when I see myself as a great builder. As one of the people who show up at a job that they will never see finished, to work on something that their name will never be on. The writer of the book went so far as to say that no cathedrals could ever be built in our lifetime because there are so few people willing to sacrifice to that degree.
When I really think about it, I don't want my son to tell the girlfriend he's bringing home for Thanksgiving, 'My Mom gets up at 4 in the morning and bakes homemade pies', that would mean I'd built a shrine or a monument to myself. I just want him to want to bring his friends home. And then, if there is anything more to say to his friend, to add, 'You're gonna love it there.'
As mothers, we are building great cathedrals. We cannot be seen if we're doing it right. And one day, it is very possible that the world will marvel, not only at what we have built, but at the beauty that has been added to the world by the sacrifices of invisible women.
It all began to make sense, the blank stares, the lack of response, the way one of the kids will walk into the room while I'm on the phone and ask to be taken to somewhere. Inside I'm thinking, 'Can't you see I'm on the phone?' Obviously not; no one can see if I'm on the phone, or cooking, or sweeping the floor, or even standing on my head in the corner, because no one can see me at all. I'm invisible. The invisible Mom. Some days I am only a pair of hands, nothing more: Can you fix this ? Can you tie this? Can you open this? Can I have some money?
Some days I'm not a pair of hands; I'm not even a human being. I'm a clock to ask, 'What time is it?' or I'm a car to order, 'Right around 8:30, please.'
I was certain that these were the hands that once held books and the eyes that studied history and the mind that graduated college- but now they had disappeared into the peanut butter, never to be seen again.
She's going, she's going, she's gone!
One night, a group of us were having dinner, celebrating the return of a friend from England. She had just gotten back from a fabulous trip, and she was going on and on about the hotel she stayed in. I was sitting there, looking around at the others all put together so well. It was hard not to compare and feel sorry for myself. I was feeling pretty pathetic, when she turned to me with a beautifully wrapped package, and said, 'I brought you this.' It was a book on the great cathedrals of Europe. Initially I had thought, oh she remembered I wanted to travel this year. Until I read her inscription: "With admiration for the greatness of what you are building when no one sees.'
In the days ahead I would read - no, devour - the book. And I would discover what would become for me, four life-changing truths, after which I could pattern my work: No one can say who built the great cathedrals - we have no record of their names. These builders gave their whole lives for a work they would never see finished. They made great sacrifices and expected no credit. The passion of their building was fueled by their faith that the eyes of God saw everything.
A legendary story in the book told of a rich man who came to visit the cathedral while it was being built, and he saw a workman carving a tiny bird on the inside of a beam. He was puzzled and asked the man, 'Why are you spending so much time carving that bird into a beam that will be covered by the roof? No one will ever see it.' And the workman replied, 'Because God sees.'
I closed the book, feeling the missing piece fall into place. It was almost as if I heard God whispering to me, 'I see you, I see the sacrifices you make every day, even when no one around you does. No act of kindness you've done, no button you've sewn on, no cupcake you've baked, is too small for me to notice and smile over. You are building a great cathedral, but you can't see right now what it will become.'
A t times, my invisibility feels like an affliction. But it is not a disease that is erasing my life. It is the cure for the disease of my own self-centeredness. It is the antidote to my strong, stubborn pride.
I keep the right perspective when I see myself as a great builder. As one of the people who show up at a job that they will never see finished, to work on something that their name will never be on. The writer of the book went so far as to say that no cathedrals could ever be built in our lifetime because there are so few people willing to sacrifice to that degree.
When I really think about it, I don't want my son to tell the girlfriend he's bringing home for Thanksgiving, 'My Mom gets up at 4 in the morning and bakes homemade pies', that would mean I'd built a shrine or a monument to myself. I just want him to want to bring his friends home. And then, if there is anything more to say to his friend, to add, 'You're gonna love it there.'
As mothers, we are building great cathedrals. We cannot be seen if we're doing it right. And one day, it is very possible that the world will marvel, not only at what we have built, but at the beauty that has been added to the world by the sacrifices of invisible women.
Tuesday, November 11, 2008
A Day of Reflection
Today is the third anniversary of my step-mother’s death. Her name was Johnnie, and she lost a horrible, unspeakable battle with pancreatic cancer. This, combined with Tammy’s news yesterday regarding the loss of her co-worker, has me thinking about losing loved ones. Many in our group have dealt with it, and some of us try to grasp unexpected losses, unfair circumstances, and the sudden void that you feel when someone you’re close to is gone.
Although it’s never easy, I sometimes wonder if my situation was a little less brutal. Since my brother and step-sister live closer to home, they were the ones that helped my dad nurse her, cajole her and deal with hospice workers. While, living hundreds of miles away, I knew the details were unimaginable, and I spoke with everyone over the phone frequently, because I didn’t see her every day I almost feel like she’s still living. In other words, the absence of her wasn’t felt dramatically. I feel it mostly on holidays, or on special occasions. In fact, many times I’ll see someone in the mall or at church that reminds me or her, and I actually have to think, “Remember? She’s gone.”
Those of you who have lost loved ones that you saw more often, whether at family get-togethers or every day at work, must feel such a bigger void. Your everyday activities are altered, and the roles that those loved ones played are no more.
It’s ironic that today is also Veteran’s Day. We are all probably reflecting a bit, watching memorial services on television, or thinking of lost loved ones. So today, as I reflect on those souls that have moved on, I also try to think of the joys and blessings I have experienced. I hope you all have a good day, and I’m happy that you are a part of my life.
Although it’s never easy, I sometimes wonder if my situation was a little less brutal. Since my brother and step-sister live closer to home, they were the ones that helped my dad nurse her, cajole her and deal with hospice workers. While, living hundreds of miles away, I knew the details were unimaginable, and I spoke with everyone over the phone frequently, because I didn’t see her every day I almost feel like she’s still living. In other words, the absence of her wasn’t felt dramatically. I feel it mostly on holidays, or on special occasions. In fact, many times I’ll see someone in the mall or at church that reminds me or her, and I actually have to think, “Remember? She’s gone.”
Those of you who have lost loved ones that you saw more often, whether at family get-togethers or every day at work, must feel such a bigger void. Your everyday activities are altered, and the roles that those loved ones played are no more.
It’s ironic that today is also Veteran’s Day. We are all probably reflecting a bit, watching memorial services on television, or thinking of lost loved ones. So today, as I reflect on those souls that have moved on, I also try to think of the joys and blessings I have experienced. I hope you all have a good day, and I’m happy that you are a part of my life.
Monday, November 10, 2008
Read A Good Book Lately?
As I packed last Thursday to get on the plane for Santa Fe, I grabbed a book off the "to read one day" pile that I have collecting dust by my bedside. The book, "Three Weeks With My Brother," by Nicholas Sparks, of "The Notebook," fame, had been given to me at some point but I had never actually examined the content.
Turns out it was the perfect book to read. Okay, everybody ..... "Coincidence? I think not." The book reads like fiction, but is a factual account of the author, as he embarks on a three week adventure with his brother. While Sparks illustrates the amazing places they visit, like India, Cambodia, Australia and Peru, he also flashes back to his childhood and young adulthood. Just as all of us, he has ups and downs, highlights and tragedies, insecurities and strengths. He is also Catholic, so he reflects often about his faith, the faith of his brother, and how that faith can get you through hard times. Although he paraphrases the version that is found in our Bible, he refers to First Corinthians, Chapter 10, verse 13. I thought I would share it with everyone today. This is directly from "Three Weeks With My Brother:"
"God keeps his promise, and he will not allow you to be tested beyond your power to remain firm; at the same time you are put to the test, he will give you the strength to endure it, and so provide you with a way out."
I hope this brings comfort or reflection to you today. Definitely something to think about, straight from a good book ... or a Good Book! See you tonight!
Turns out it was the perfect book to read. Okay, everybody ..... "Coincidence? I think not." The book reads like fiction, but is a factual account of the author, as he embarks on a three week adventure with his brother. While Sparks illustrates the amazing places they visit, like India, Cambodia, Australia and Peru, he also flashes back to his childhood and young adulthood. Just as all of us, he has ups and downs, highlights and tragedies, insecurities and strengths. He is also Catholic, so he reflects often about his faith, the faith of his brother, and how that faith can get you through hard times. Although he paraphrases the version that is found in our Bible, he refers to First Corinthians, Chapter 10, verse 13. I thought I would share it with everyone today. This is directly from "Three Weeks With My Brother:"
"God keeps his promise, and he will not allow you to be tested beyond your power to remain firm; at the same time you are put to the test, he will give you the strength to endure it, and so provide you with a way out."
I hope this brings comfort or reflection to you today. Definitely something to think about, straight from a good book ... or a Good Book! See you tonight!
Thursday, November 6, 2008
Here we go ......
As you all know, Heidi and I met for lunch yesterday with Dan, Cindy and Katie. We discussed details about the meetings to come, and we reflected on Monday night's gathering. I just wanted to let you guys know that as Heidi and I thought about our group, we just couldn't get over how lucky we are! We are made up of so many "deep souls," with amazing stories to tell, and amazing gifts. Each and every one of us was chosen to come together, sort of like a Perfect Storm. And here we are, on the verge of something big. We will leave behind us a path of love, kindness, peace, warmth, and yes Stephanie ..... more hugs than you can imagine!
We will all grow on this journey, and discover things about ourselves and each other that will enrich us in ways unimaginable. I'm leaving for Santa Fe today, to a land of enchantment and beauty. It has always been a very spiritual place for me, and this trip will not only be fun, but I have a feeling I will be experiencing it in a new way. I will be thinking so much of you all, and I will be spending time reflecting for sure. Thank you for all the gifts you've given me. Have a great weekend!
We will all grow on this journey, and discover things about ourselves and each other that will enrich us in ways unimaginable. I'm leaving for Santa Fe today, to a land of enchantment and beauty. It has always been a very spiritual place for me, and this trip will not only be fun, but I have a feeling I will be experiencing it in a new way. I will be thinking so much of you all, and I will be spending time reflecting for sure. Thank you for all the gifts you've given me. Have a great weekend!
Monday, November 3, 2008
A Sigh Of Relief
I think it's safe to say that, after our meeting this evening, we are all experiencing a little bit of lift in our step. Without going into too much detail, I know I feel a sense of relief in having a clearer picture of what's to come. As we dispersed, our group acted as giddy as school girls before a Jonas Brothers concert.
So now we can relax for a bit, take a deep breath, and anticipate what is to come. As we went through this evening together, I remember slowly looking around the room, at this circle of friends that has become so important to me, and thinking, "How blessed I feel." I looked into each and every one of your faces and felt a special bond that only we can experience.
So get some rest and enjoy the ride. I think we're going to have some serious fun!
So now we can relax for a bit, take a deep breath, and anticipate what is to come. As we went through this evening together, I remember slowly looking around the room, at this circle of friends that has become so important to me, and thinking, "How blessed I feel." I looked into each and every one of your faces and felt a special bond that only we can experience.
So get some rest and enjoy the ride. I think we're going to have some serious fun!
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