Fearless Wonder

I am still working on a rather long post right now, but in the meantime I think this poem bears reposting. Please Call Me By My True Names by Thich Nhat Hanh Don't say that I will depart tomorrow -- even today I am still arriving. Look deeply: every second I am arriving to be a bud on a Spring branch, to be a tiny bird, with still-fragile wings, learning to sing in my new nest, to be a caterpillar in the heart of a flower, to be a jewel hiding itself in a stone. I still arrive, in order to laugh and to cry, to fear and to hope. The rhythm of my heart is the birth and death of all that is alive. I am the mayfly metamorphosing on the surface of the river. And I am the bird that swoops down to swallow the mayfly. I am the frog swimming happily in the clear water of a pond. And I am the grass-snake that silently feeds itself on the frog. I am the child in Uganda, all skin and bones, my legs as thin as bamboo sticks. And I am the arms merchant, selling deadly weapons to Uganda. I am th

For many years now I've felt that if I had children I would adopt. I need to finish grad school first and we need to move into a bigger place but if we can manage I think we will adopt. Today I took a look at some websites and ran a search to look at kids. I started tearing up almost immediately. I especially feel sad when I think about the kids that no one will adopt, like older children, minorities, disabled children and sets of siblings. As a teacher I know some the realities that come with raising children. I've been exposed to children with special needs and difficult backgrounds. Although I have many weaknesses as a human being I think this is something I could do. However I also think this is something many more people could do, but they are not willing to open their hearts or take the risk. If I don't end up living up to my ideals in a few years I think it will be a very sad thing. I wish more people would consider adoption. I hear a lot of people say tha

For the record, still agnostic, but I might be a reverent agnostic. (ala AJ Jacobs) I went to two Easter services (a Saturday night easter vigil and a Sunday morning service.) They were both at Episcopal churches and I have to say, "Episcopals, I like your style." I know all the reasons Adventists reject such ceremony, but I have to say you loose some of the reverence when you take out the ceremony. (and substitute it with cheesy CCM and 70's style sanctuaries.) I've been thinking about joining a church again. I miss that feeling of being part of a larger community with potlucks, families, music (not CCM) all about me. The last "church" we were apart of was full of really good people and some forward thinking pastors, but it was the whole "Jesus is my Boyfriend" music that I couldn't get into. I feel like the old hymns leave room for some unknowing wonder in their lyrics. I've also noticed that a lot of liberal churches have traditional

I just wrote a paper about my experiences with the refugee lady I tutored. I had to critically analyze her situation and mine and make comparisons. Then I realized I am in another situation I have not analyzed. That of the rich. Did you know that rich people get free stuff? I did not. I always thought they just had more money and that is why they had so much stuff. But no! My husband and I were two ordinary folks by American standards. My family is middle class and his wavered between middle,working and poor. Now the two of us find ourselves in Buckhead, Atlanta. Buckhead is one of the richest neighborhoods in Atlanta. My husband took a job at a good company and we moved into the lower tiers of a pricey condo. (We are renting a one-bedroom) While we ourselves are not rich, we live with some very rich people. Businesses around here want these rich people to spend their money at their stores and restaurants, so they give people in our condo free stuff to entice them. We we

Music by Anne Porter (I first heard this Poem on the wonderful Writer's Almanac) When I was a child I once sat sobbing on the floor Beside my mother's piano As she played and sang For there was in her singing A shy yet solemn glory My smallness could not hold And when I was asked Why I was crying I had no words for it I only shook my head And went on crying Why is it that music At its most beautiful Opens a wound in us An ache a desolation Deep as a homesickness For some far-off And half-forgotten country I've never understood Why this is so Bur there's an ancient legend From the other side of the world That gives away the secret Of this mysterious sorrow For centuries on centuries We have been wandering But we were made for Paradise As deer for the forest And when music comes to us With its heavenly beauty It brings us desolation For when we hear it We half remember That lost native country We dimly remember the fields Their fragrant windswept clover The birdsongs in t

A really wonderful person is dying of cancer. She is an awesome woman I met in Korea. She was SUPER energetic, loving, giving and made my experience there worthwhile. She was part of my women's Bible Study group THE HUNGRY TEAM (Named because we ate a lot together) After I left some missionary friends took over The Hungry Team from me and this lady was baptised. I took out some pictures I had of her today and cried. I am leaving the photos out so I don't forget to think of her daily. When someone is so far away and it has been so many years it is hard to always keep them in your thoughts. I hope to make contact with her again soon. She is to young to be facing this and has many people who love and depend on her. Part of me wants to draw some conclusion about this or make some connection between this and the Easter services I attended this weekend. For now though I will just let it be and focus on what I can do to strengthen and support this wonderful person during her