Rose's Son Has Cancer

I have friends that are precious to me, but that I have never met.
They came to me by Divine Collision.

God knew Jennifer,
God knew Rose,
so that through social-network-creation, we became
friends.

In the fullness of time,
not knowing it was intended from the beginning,
our lives were twined together so that I could be
friend to Rose,
a mother with a son who has cancer.

Now I have a son with cancer too, his name is Ben.
And Ben is a father himself, and will be so again for the third time soon.
And together with Rose I hold up the moon in the night above his bed
so that the scary monsters stay away and he may sleep,
so that his arms will be strong to hold his arriving child.

We know a lot about scary monsters,
and diapers,
and spilled milk,
and Bandaids,
and grass-stained jeans,
because
we are mothers.

We know that tears happen to boys as well as girls,
that frogs are delightful,
that you can never pick up all the Legos,
and that girls who have cooties now, will be the reason for car keys to be needed soon.

When we became mothers, we joined a great circle of Divine Daughters that has spiraled from the First Mother
through all mothers to join us together as one.
Through water,
through blood,
through sweat,
through agony personal, and yet known by the circling Daughters of dawn,
we brought forth our sons.

We are one mother.
They are one son.
My Ben has cancer, and my heart is not strong.


Strength comes to those who need to race.
Our strength will carry us through this because we were the champions of 12 and 2 and 4 and 6,
and we never slept at all during the week of the flu,
and because we could find the lost socks,
and keep the kite in the sky,
and make spaghetti five different ways,
and sit through the game not shouting anything (too) embarrassing.

Our strength comes from the waiting and the dreaming during the months that our son grew inside our body's nest of flesh and love.
We grew so beautiful and we grew so wise
and we grew strong to greet the needy mouths and fingers and imaginations of our son.

And my son Ben's mother Rose,
now,
has the strength of the Divine Daughters as her labor continues to intensify and she keens with the pain.
And I and all the others will be her strong arms of encouragement
and midwife her through her pain.

Rose has a son who is my joy. He has cancer now. His name is Ben.

We Should Have Danced

Awakened,
I hear all the old songs in new ways

What beast is it that has flow into my ear?

Surrounded by the suffering we've inflicted upon ourselves
I face the curved surface that holds my knowledge and see the myopic distortion

We were invited to dance

Don't you know that the Songs created the world?
Love songs
Laments
Yearning tunes
Angelic refrains
Ancient sounds of origins
the songs of birth, life
and death

Sung from a place deep within the center
of our hearts

Why did we pick up a stone and throw it through the center of the love?
and break the light that sang the Songs that made us whole?

We are destruct-ors when we could have been creators

we should have danced

Apostrophe

Things break.

Starting in the Middle and Working from the Center Out

I named this blog from my interest in sewing, and I just realized I've virtually never mentioned a thing about sewing in any form. It's about time I remedied that.

I was born with gracious stitches all around me. All the women in my family were amazing seamstresses and craftswomen with fabric and thread. I was brought home from the hospital in hand-stitched receiving blankets, laid in my crib in a room filled with home-sewn curtains and quilts and blankets. My first wardrobe, and for most of my childhood, I wore hand-created garments by my mother and grandmothers; little dresses with my Grandmother Lorraine's beautiful stitching and hand-smocking on them,

mittens and socks knitted with love, and jackets, hats, scarfs and ponchos crafted just in my size. I slept under heirloom quilts and laid my head on hand-embroidered pillow cases. My bedroom walls were hung with hand-stitched treasures, including a framed Noah's ark crewelwork piece with all the animals, and my bed was strewn with handcrafted dolls, stuffed animals, and crocheted toys. My childhood was surrounded by humble and practical artistic beauty, and hand-stitched love.

I naturally grew up with a needle between my fingers.

I started with simple stitches of my own design on scraps of cloth from my mother's sewing basket. Gradually I worked my way through the different sewing techniques: needlepoint, cross-stitch, huck weaving (Swedish embroidery seen below),all kinds of embroidery, crewel, counted-cross stitch and quilting. I learned to sew with a machine and kept myself and my dolls in simple little garments. I remember in particular, making my own complete outfit, a top and slacks, just in time for it's inaugural wearing on a 5th grade class field trip! I was in heaven.

As a child I never went anywhere without either a book to read or a project to stitch, and preferably both.

There are many life lessons that come from a childhood surrounded by multi-colored threads and fabrics, but for me the most profound is probably that sewing is seldom a linear thing. You can't quilt a beautiful quilt by starting at the beginning and working in a straight line to the end. Sewing and stitching beautifully, almost always consists of starting somewhere in the middle and working from that center out. As much as it may seem logical before actually trying it, creating a satisfying and beautiful piece of stitching is never a linear, top to bottom task.

Let me try to explain. Think of something that seems very linear to the eye, for instance the huck weaving example above. It sure looks to the eye as if you start at the edge and stitch horizontally right across the bottom of that towel. "Hucking", done on huck toweling with a special fabric surface for the stitches to be "woven" under, is actually begun right smack in the middle of the towel. You fold that baby in half, find the middle, and stitch a middle guide stitch to be removed later so you don't lose track of the middle as you sew! You then work your stitches out and away from the center, returning to the center point every time you need a reference. This is the only way a pattern will be sure to center and end on both sides with matching edges. If you were to try any other method, you'd either end up lopsided, or you'd end up with taking out lots of stitches (a subject for another blog on another day!)

The same is true with quilting. Start in the center as you piece together your pieces. Usually pieced quilts are done in small sections, and the sections (worked from a center-point out if they artist knows what they are doing) are then brought together in a larger and larger piece, consistently working from the center out.

This is even true when constructing a garment of clothing. "Now a shirt can't be started from the center," you argue. "Start at the top of the top and work to the bottom of the bottom... collar first, hem at the bottom last," you might think. Wrong. You will have nothing your pet boa constrictor will be even able to slither into if you follow that method. You start always with constructing the center of the garment, and work up and down from the center, working in a logical progression so that pieces are stitched on in a manner that allows the next piece to be attached. Example. You attach a yoke of a shirt to the body and the collar to the yoke, before you can begin to attach the arms, the front placket or sew up the sides. You must have a center from which to anchor the work that will flow out of it.

The center is the anchor of all that we do as we create art and fashion from needles, thread and fabrics. You can choose the most amazing fabric combinations, use the most complex sewing techniques, but if you fail to understand the "chord" that will makes the different parts into a "symphony," the piece you create will never be artistry.

As I live my life, I am more and more aware of just how much this is the basic reality of my life's melody and rhythm. I don't see the world from the edges in, or linearly, from top to bottom. I see the middle of issues, the center of the picture, the soul, and then work from that point out to the edges to clarify the picture in my mind. I tend to think that maybe this is a God-gift. I tend to think that maybe God sees the world from the center of its being too... from the center which is God's self, and that God works from that point out, to understand and view all of us.

God is the mirror in the center of our being that our person is reflected out from. The center of us is the center of God's self, and we are seen by God from that center-point. We are seen by God from the center of our hearts, minds, bodies, needs, hopes, dreams, challenges, heartbreaks... outward. God sees us from the center that is God within each of us. We are only capable of seeing that same center in each other if we seek in grace not to look at each other linearly; from logical top-to-bottom, front-to-back, outside first. We see only the individuals around us, if we see them with the eyes of love, compassion, kindness, forgiveness and hope.

Our center is our foundation. What we are built out from. What we fail to attach well onto our central foundation, what we pick up as trash and debris from life, what injuries we do to the externals of our foundation, what evil bits we glue onto our central selves by choice, do not still, in their whole, destroy the inner beauty of the core that God built us from, because that core is Godself.

What I hope to do with this blog, with this life that is mine, with the children I have been given to raise, with the relationships that I have the privilege of being a part of, within the churches I serve, with the bits and pieces of my life and all its hours, is to sew the most beautiful gilded patches I can, with the most gracious thread I can find, onto the lives of the people I encounter. It is my intention and dream, and always has been my joy, to take the beautiful foundations of thread and fabric, and create with them objects of beauty that build from the center and the heart of their reality. It is my dream to stitch away the broken spots of people's lives. strengthening them and taking away their ugliness, revealing spots of rare beauty that reminds each person with pride, that God has not forgotten them, but seeks to bring out that which is their center and create a great masterwork of their life.

That is my dream.
With wool and silk,
floss and thread,
paisley-ed and patterned,
fringed and gilded bits and pieces,
to see the middle of God's great handiwork and work from that center out to patch with gracious threads the broken hopes of the world.

Oh Beautiful Seamstress of the Eternities, hear my prayer.

Sexy Boots on Clergy Women

If you click on the title of this post, it will take you to a very interesting reflection by Michael and Anthony Emerson on U2s "Sexy Boots" (also printed below). I love the encouraging word coming from a blend of Bono's understanding of what the church can be, and Anthony and Michael's "exegesis" of this song. I have a concern though, and I think it's a very significant one. It's not a criticism of the writing of Emersons so much as it is a whopping big Aha that arises out of their thoughtfulness here.... Why, when they get to the phrase "Women of the future hold the big revelations" do they diverge from their explicit dealing with the text of the song, and start talking about "Resident Aliens" which has nothing to do with that line? Are we generally uncomfortable with that line in the church? I think we are. I think that we are not willing to imagine that Bono may be right, and that the women of the church do hold the message of how beautiful the church can be in their minds, hearts, experiences and spirits. I am concerned that we are afraid to discuss this possibility in the church. I fear, that instead of welcoming women's insights and thoughts, indeed wisdom, we are in fact eager to shut that conversation down if it ever rises up. Women have been the majority figures in the church almost since its inception, and yet we have still, in the year 2011, not been welcomed to share our vision of the church's future in very many liturgical or theological spaces. We are the silent/silenced majority. Women DO know how beautiful the church can be, and have something very important to add to the conversation. Is Bono the only one who recognizes this fact and will include us in the dialogue? Here's what the Emerson's have to say. See what you think.

U2's “No Line on the Horizon” has been one of their more misunderstood albums. The most misunderstood song of the album is “Get On Your Boots.” Here is a snippet.

The future needs a big kiss
Winds blow with a twist
Never seen a moon like this
Can you see it too?
Night is falling everywhere
Rockets at the fun fair
Satan loves a bomb scare
But he won't scare you


“Get On Your Boots” is is bombastic and urgent, sleek and fast-paced. But more than anything it’s a powerful message of hope to the church. Take, for example, the first line, “the future needs a big kiss.” What entity would be able to impact the future with a kiss (curious choice of words, right)? How about the bride of Christ, the church? The future needs the church because of the next six lines: the winds are blowing, the moon (a motif of confusion and evil) is up, night has fallen, and Satan is trying to frighten us. Why would Bono have the boldness to tell us that Satan shouldn’t scare us? Remember Matthew 16:18: “On this rock I will build my church, and the gates of Hades will not overcome it.” Therefore, get on your boots. In other words, get up and do some work in this dark world because God has empowered you to do so.

You free me from the dark dream
Candy floss ice cream
All our kids are screaming
But the ghosts aren't real
Here's where we gotta be
Love and community
Laughter is eternity
If joy is real

“You free me from the dark dream” suggests the church is saving the lost. Then we see giddy happiness in the second line with paradoxical, light-hearted objects (happiness doesn't make sense). The third and fourth lines convey the same idea as the last two lines of the first stanza. Things become clearer when the necessity of community is brought in. Laughter is a godly and reasonable thing if there really is a happy ending awaiting us. We can fight the evils of this world with light hearts because we are fighting within a vibrant community of Spirit-filled people.

You don't know how beautiful you are

You, the church, don't understand how made-in-the image-of-God awesome you can be. You can have perfect joy and community! So get on your boots and be boldly beautiful!

Women of the future hold the big revelations
I've got a submarine
You got gasoline
I don't want to talk about wars between nations


It is striking how near the message of this song is to Hauerwas' and Willimon's “Resident Aliens.” Since we no longer live in a Christian culture, the church is free to live as a distinct people once again. We are to impact the world through our colony, not as we have been doing since Constantine: through the government. The holy community that we are supposed to be can astound the world by how beautiful we are and how much love we show the world. The problems and conflicts of this world will not be solved by mere mortals. Only through the church can the world be truly redeemed. Get on your boots!

Let me in the sound!

Where did this come from? Acts 2. “Suddenly a sound like the blowing of a violent wind came from heaven . . .”. The birth of the church. If you want more proof, look at John 3:5-8, where Jesus compares being born of the Spirit to the sound of the wind – we can’t tell where it's going. It's probably not a coincidence that both the sound and birth are themes throughout “No Line on the Horizon.” The sound is representative of the Spirit, the Lord of the church.

There are people in the world who want in! Get on your boots, and let the church get to stepp’in!

Michael O. Emerson is the Cline Professor of Sociology and the Director of the Center on Race, Religion, and Urban Life at Rice University in Houston, Texas. His son, Anthony Emerson, is a sophomore at Ouachita Baptist University in Arkadelphia, Arkansas.

Clergy Resume, Day 7087:

Can comfort the sick; preach the Bible; teach and capture the imagination of any age on virtually any topic of faith and life; sit with the elderly; hold new babies when they cry; attend potlucks and compliment all the cooks; organize anything that needs organizing except for our desk; hold people together in crisis; help them figure out responses to their daily problems; read 8 books simultaneously and apply them all in one 20 minute sermon; conjure money out of thin air to meet the budget; know how to read music; play hand bells without practicing the part when someone gets sick; do light comedy; interpret ancient texts and John Wesley; be cool enough for teens to like you; hold conversations on the phone and with three other people in your office simultaneously; never get 8 hours of sleep or 2 days off in a row; write articles without grammatical errors; stay physically fit and attractively dressed at all times, day or night; conduct meetings; drive your car in fog/sleet/snow in the middle of the night to unmarked roads and back; arrive at meetings across state at 8:00 am and attend meetings at the church until 10:00 pm the same day; maintain your home, family, cars, health and pets on 10 hours a week at most; and always be at the office when the phone rings or at the shut-in's home when they think of you... we're unemployable in any other field except the church!!! :)

Did I forgot to mention: dealing with dueling musicians; a Trustees vs. United Methodist Women's scheduling conflict; a new leak in the sanctuary roof; overflowing toilets; the wrong color paraments on the altar; testy staff because the Sunday bulletin isn't complete and it's Wednesday; and then walk into the funeral service on time, perfectly dressed and hair in place, with a perfect meditation on the life of the deceased an hour before you have to undergo a dental surgery... then be back, rested, pressed and well enough to function the next day because you have Charge Conference that night after a wedding rehearsal! Oh, and don't forget what the 39 different people whispered to you about their Aunt/cousin/best friend in Florida on the way out of service on Sunday because you are going to be tested on that! But don't go looking for a job in the secular world, we are unemployable. (Boy was this therapeutic!)

What is Happening to Mommy?

My 11-year-old went to WalMart tonight with me, and she asked to see the toys. I've now been introduced to the latest craze in 5th grade... Monster High Dolls (mostly very skinny girl monsters, but a few boy monsters too.) She did NOT ask, but she has been hanging onto birthday money for awhile, so I let her pick one out... I actually asked her if she wanted to. We looked them all over carefully and found one sufficiently clothed. It's a mummy Cleopatra.

Now I'm wondering what came over me? This is not like me at all to suggest my children buy something they are a little bit wistful about. I help and encourage book buying from time to time, but not toys, especially not emaciated, over-tall, sassy looking, vaguely sexy, monster dolls! (Then again I never thought I'd do lots of things as a mother and have.) We certainly never had a Bratz doll in this house! But this situation has sort of really surprised me.

I'm wonder if I'm starting to grieve my children's growing up? (Surely not me! I'm the stalwart, no-tears-mom type, who expects a lot from my kids and gets it most of the time. I'm not a mushy, push-over mom.) But, my oldest is about to become an adult in 22 days. (That's a reality shock if I ever had one before.) I have two in high school now. (How did that happen?) And hardly anyone asks to go to the toy department any more.

Maybe I got caught in her sweet conversations somewhere, (NOT asking for one herself, mind you) of her friends playing with their Monster High Dolls at recess at school. Maybe I feel guilty because we say no to SO much the children would enjoy and even benefit from; like a Labor Day idea of swimming rained out because of the weather; two parents, three jobs, not enough money and tired all the time; seldom time to cook a family supper and sit down together; events we can't squeeze in because of work demands; weekends we can't do what other families do because we "have to work"; not home most evenings to put them to bed; having moved with the ministry so often that one child has actually attended 7 different schools in 9 years; etc., etc., etc...and they are all growing up SO fast!

I don't know what it boils down to, but twiggy little "Cleo" with sparkly hair, pouty mouth and 10-inch-heel equivalent bedtime slippers represents a whole lot more than the $9.97 that was paid for her. She made my youngest very, very happy, and I guess maybe I'm just not wanting to lose that magic yet... the simple magic of a small gift lighting up my child's eyes with such happiness. It will all be gone so soon.