Reflections

There are only 30 hours left in 2011, and while it has been a dismal year on some levels, I am content. I stayed healthy all year, and the attention I am paying to my health has caused me to feel better (other than the soon to be gone knee) than I have felt in years. The high point? Hands down the mission trip to Louisiana. I loved the work, the people, the culture---everything except the airplane ride, and even that was not too bad! It was good to do physical work again, and it was even better to actually be helping someone else with no expectations of reward. Ironically, the reward was the biggest I have every received---genuine gratitude!

Vacation with my family was pretty cool too. I have never been one who vacations at resorts, so this was new, but the best part was watching my sister and the ocean. I take the ocean for granted---after all, it is only a block from my house---but her excitement and wonder was genuine and fun to watch!

Then there was the tsunami---while the world was focused on the horrible catastrophe in Japan, my little town lost its harbor and a big chunk of its fishing fleet. In an economy already critically depressed, many families in the community lost their livelihood. I was out of town when the tsunami hit, and the inability to find out what was happening as I was returning home left its mark. It made me really sad for those days when radio stations carried the news.

So 2012 is right here, right now...and because I am the optimist, all will be well in the year to come. It will present its challenges, and there will be joy and sadness, but all will be well. When I remember that God is in charge, we walk through the valleys and over the mountains together...and that is how it should be.

Christmas 2011

We spent the day over in Medford doing the shopping bit. The older I get, the more I begin to swear that I am not going to do that anymore. I managed to get most of my gifts here locally...a couple of books from a good friend who is an even better author, some homemade stuff from the Holiday Fair, some things from the Museum Gift Shop. There was no hassle for those; no mall, no driving, no frantic crowds and crying children. They felt right in my soul. But there are those things I want to give that are not here in my little town. I suppose I could order them on line, but even leaving the money in a nearby city seems more like what I should do...so I go to the mall.

Crying children...the mall is always full of them...mostly crying because they are tired. Sure, there are those who are crying because they want everything in sight, but most of them are just plain tired. I am jealous...with my bad knee, walking around the mall makes me want to cry too!

We shouldn't have to cry at Christmas! We are celebrating, in my culture at least, the birth of the child who would come to be the savior of a good chunk of humankind; at least that is what we believe. We should be jumping with joy instead of stressing ourselves and our children to tears over things which really do not matter.

My shopping is over; the cooking over the weekend is in the hands of those who can handle it. My job is to lead worship...two times...two times in 24 hours, I get to do my best to help people look past the mall, past the exhaustion, past the tears, and pause at a manger....I cannot think of a better way to celebrate Christmas! I get to partake of the blessing, and that is the best gift of all.

Where Have I Been?

I was absolutely astounded to realize I had not visited my own place for almost a year; almost a year in which I was so distracted as to forget that I had a place in which to ruminate on my life! It actually has been a pretty amazing year, full of all sorts of things that lives usually contain. There was work and vacation, joy and sadness, life and death, all of the stuff.

Now a new year looms on the horizon, and with it some new challenges about which I know as well as those things which will remain hidden until their time. There is really no difference in them for if I remember who is in charge of my life, I will walk through them. Do we ever really know what is going to happen? I am not so sure I really want to know!

I had an amazing evening yesterday. After a wonderful Chinese dinner with friends, we all went to a concert presented by the Canadian Brass. I love all sorts of music, and I really love brass. I like the energy of the trumpets, the mellow French horn, the smooth quirkiness of the trombone and that solid bass. Brass music makes me happy, even when the music itself is more somber. These five gentlemen put on an amazing show, and I was thoroughly entertained. They did some things with music I have never heard or seen done, and the memories have energized my season.

I am going to really try to make it a habit to come to this place on Friday...to reflect on the week past and maybe focus on the week to come. There are so many cool things happening in my life...I just want to share them! May the joy continue....

Louisiana Mission Trip Reflections

I am back in my house now; my house that I can walk into and know that I will not fall through the floor; my house that does not leak; my house that keeps me warm and sheltered. I can go to my kitchen and know there is stuff there for me to eat, and I don't have to worry about my next meal. I wish I could pass that comfort on to all of the wonderful people of Dulac, because I know that for every family we helped, there were ten more who needed help just to get though the day with a degree of comfort. I cannot take what I have for granted any more, and maybe that is why I was called to go to Louisiana. Maybe I was getting just a little bit too complacent about the blessings in my life, for they are blessings, not givens!!

I am tired, all the more tired because of the cold I caught in Louisiana, but I also feel really good about what we did. A friend asked me if the trip was fun, and it took a moment for me to answer. It was fun, not in a Disneyland sort of way, but in a way of knowing, deep down in my heart, that we did the right thing, a good thing. I want to do it again someday.

But there is another side to the story. I keep thinking about what we were given. Sure, we were given things: Mardi Gras beads and home made jambalaya, but we were also given the gift of friendship. I now have friends in the far corner of Louisiana, friends for whom I will be praying, friends who have touched me in indestructible ways. I have friends about whom I will worry when the storms come and friends in whose contacts with me I will rejoice. I have been eternally gifted by their grace, and for that I am very, very blessed.

Louisiana Mission Trip Day 4

Things are getting interesting around here. One member of the team is hospitalized, and four others are down with a vicious bronchitis. Most of the bronchitis is in the men's dorm and I am grateful for that, but one of the women is now down and I am praying like mad that I can avoid it. I have had more shots than most dogs, and while I don't really like to pray that I will be spared at another's expense, I can do that!

We have almost finished all of the work, and we should be done by noon tomorrow. On the great scale of things, we have done little; on the small scale of things, we have done a great deal. There are a half a dozen families in Dulac whose lives are a tiny bit better than they were this time last week, and there are 27 Californians who have been blessed many times over, in spite of the disease.

The bayou is very interesting. The land is not ever more than three or four feet above sea level unless it has been built up by humans, and it is flat. I mean flatter than Kansas; flatter than eastern Colorado; flatter than flat! There are many new and wonderful birds, and while I would love to see an alligator, I am rather happy that the water moccasins are hibernating! (So are the alligators!) It is surprisingly cold here, and I guess that is not all that unusual. As we talk to the natives, they tell us that January is cold. It is really a lot like Crescent City.

I am still not sure why I was called to this place. I am enjoying myself. I am enjoying the work and I am loving meeting the people. The natural history is more than I can possibly absorb in a week. But I am also sad. Other members of the team had great expectations, and they are disappointed and frustrated. I guess they thought that 27 people were going to be able to come down here and save the world. They have lost sight of the fact that we are all amateurs trying to do the right thing, and they complain because all is not going as fast as they would like. They are forgetting that we are working in a culture as different from California as night and day; the people of Dulac neither move nor think like we do. I am sad that the point has been lost in the details.

I will do this again. I don't know when, where, or with whom, but I have been changed, and maybe that is why I am here! As George said, we will never see a news story about hurricanes in southern Louisiana without wondering about our friends! That is what is important.

Louisiana Mission Trip, Day 3

While Monday was marked by rain and Tuesday by overcast, today dawned bright and sunny. It was quite cool in the morning, but it warmed up quickly as the work teams scattered across Dulac. There is so much to do and so few of us to do it. We in California build our homes to last forever, building with care and perfect measurements and all sorts of building codes. The people of Dulac build their homes to last until the next hurricane. Elevating their homes on stilts helps; at least the water has to be over ten feet deep to flood them, but there is no protection against the wind. Yet the people survive, and they survive with cheerful hearts and generous spirits. We came down here with the idea that we would be giving to them, but we are finding ourselves on the receiving end as well---a bag of Mardi Gras beads, a pan of jambalaya, a cool drink, or just a warm smile---we have received so much.

One of the members of our team is having a lot of problems. She did not bring her medications with her, and she is on the verge of a psychotic breakdown. She will probably have to be taken to the hospital, for her own protection as well as that of the team. It is frightening and very unnerving, for we are feeling helpless. As the team leader said, "We know what to do with her in California, but we do not know about Louisiana. As the leadership of the team struggles with what to do, the rest of us can only pray that she can receive the help she so desperately needs, both from man and God.

So it is a time of mixed emotions. We are all getting tired, and the stress of the illness of our teammate and friend is adding to the exhaustion. We have one more full day of work, and after a half day on Friday, we will see some of the sights before leaving for home on Saturday. I want to do this again someday; the rewards have far exceeded the pain!

Photos from Dulac

Robbie Wyckoff and Zach Bloyd---sheet rock workers extraordianaire.....

This is the after and before pictures of one of the rooms we drywalled today...it makes me feel good just to look at it!

This photo is of Dulac, Louisiana, and is pretty typical of what we are seeing down here. It is a very different culture from what we are used to seeing, and it is fascinating in its own right.

Louisiana Mission Trip Day 2

It rained hard almost all night, and I expected to wake up to a lot of water, but since the bayou is all about water, the rain simply drained into the channels to find itself in the Gulf of Mexico. The flooding problems here are caused by wind and tides rather than rain. We finished the bedroom for June and Christine today, and what made it very special for me was that Zach and Robbie, two high school seniors from Crescent City were the ones who truly made our team work. They were very professional in the way they cut and measured sheet rock, and we could not have finished them job without them. I have watched these two young men since they were seven, and it is almost a parental joy to see how they have not only grown up, but matured!

There are many stories coming out of the work teams, for the 27 of us are separated among many jobs. There are tales of joy as help is graciously received, and tales almost of amazement as work team members speak of how they are being blessed by those we came to "help." Makes me wonder who is helping whom!

The Dulac Community Center is a national mission outreach post of the United Methodist Church, and has been receiving mission teams here in the bayou for over 50 years. I wonder how many other secrets like this are buried in the annals of the church? Sometimes mission work is regional, but we are always reminded that the world is indeed our parish. It is so great to be learning that first hand!

Louisiana Mission Trip Day 1

It is actually day three, but the first two days were spent in getting to Louisiana and having some fun. But even in the midst of the fun, there were constant reminders of the different world we had entered when we came to Louisiana. It started in church on Sunday morning when an integral part of the service was a time of remembering those who had violently died in New Orleans during the previous week---there were 14, all under age 40 and the youngest was age 2. In my little corner of the world, 14 violent deaths in a year would cause great consternation in the community, but they say the number will reach 200 in New Orleans. That makes me sad.

We then visited the lower Ninth Ward of New Orleans, an area devastated by Hurricane Katrina in 2005. It is still a zone of destruction. Many houses are still empty and abandoned; many still bear the paint marks which identified them as check by the authorities in 2005. While there are signs of life and renewal, there is still so much destruction. That too makes me sad.

We drove to Dulac on Sunday afternoon, and this morning's sun revealed a still different place. The people here are water people; shrimpers, oystermen, and crabbers. The land is low, mostly swamp, and the people know no other life. They live from hurricane to hurricane, trying to scratch out a living. But here is no where for them to go, and they hang on.

Today we put up sheet rock in a house and are building a ramp so the elderly members of the family can get in and out. Our crew of five did what it would have taken the homeowner months to do, and it was paid for in full by a hug. Today three young people helped a man from Salinas UMC put roof number 50 in a house---fifty roofs in six years in the gulf coast area. While the living conditions do make me sad, there is hope, and I am so darned proud to be a United Methodist working to make the lives of these people just a little bit better.

Nebraska Sky

Another musing from the 2010 railroad trip to California from Ohio.....sadly, I still haven't gone seeking the stars!

I sleep eight hours; that is what my body does. I go to sleep and eight hours later, I wake up. Last night when I went to bed at 10:00 p.m. Eastern Standard Time, I woke up at what my body perceived to be 6:00 a.m. The only problem was the fact that the train had traveled through the night and we were located in Mountain Standard Time; the clock said it was 4:00 a.m.! There is no life on an Amtrak train at 4:00 in the morning, but I was awake, and there was no point in trying to go back to sleep. With nothing else to do, I looked out the window into a black Nebraska sky filled with a million stars. There were no city lights to dim their brilliance, and it was possible, as I looked from darkness into darkness, to discern surface features by starlight alone.
The cities have stolen the stars. We live surrounded by light and the harsh city lights consume the stars. I had forgotten how the sky fills with points of light and the lush band of the Milky Way bisects that same sky. I think I remember my dad taking us outside to see the aurora borealis once. It was a rarity to see the northern lights as far south as Colorado and I wasn't very big. In fact, I am not even sure if I actually saw them, or only wish that I had! Would the city lights steal those too?
When I am not on the train, I live in a place where I could go and find the stars; I need to do that. When I glimpse the heavens, I can reach up and touch the face of God; why would I want to deprive myself of that?

Beside the Tracks

Normally at this time of the year, I am either packing my bags for a train trip to Ohio or taking same, but this year I don't have to do that because the course work at Methodist Theological School in Ohio has been completed. I wrote the following essay in 2010 while on the return trip, and intended to publish it then, but I lost the notebook and it only recently surfaced. So here, a year later, are some thoughts on riding the rails....

When you are on the tracks, it seems there is no "right" side. The beautiful people do not live along the tracks. The tracks reveal the back door, the back yard, the places we want no one to see.
I hate the morning train from Toledo to Chicago, especially the January one. One gets to Toledo from Chicago in the middle of the night so one does not see, but the morning train reveals everything. At night there are sections of light and sections of dark, but the light of day reveals sections of light surrounded by gray-brown snow and sections of rusting metal bowing to piles of crumbling brick. It is surreal to me because my mind's eye recalls the story of industrial might, a story of energy and life.
It would be easy to stop with the wonder of what killed these giants, what rendered the factories and foundries into dinosaurs, their bones silhouetted against the morning sky, but I know about economics and pollution, outsourced jobs and managerial corruption, but I don't think the why is important. It is, and it is sad. Death is always sad, and I cannot help but think of industrial Indiana as a dead zone!
But it is not just Indiana; wherever the trains go through towns it seems to be a smaller version of the same---crumbling depots, boarded up houses, railroad right-of-ways resembling city dumps. There seems to be no right side of the tracks.
But there is also incredible beauty along the tracks. There are those places where the railroad is the only way in; people cannot build or dump or leave their trash. The windows of the train reveal rare beauty, a glimpse of the North America that was. In those places, both sides of the tracks are right.
Like all else, the train ride is a mix---bad and good; joyful and sad; inspiring and depressing. Life is like that, and that is enough.

New Year 2011

This year is off to a much different start than those which have gone before. George and I spent the first day of the new year driving home from Olympia, Washington, where we went to say good-bye to his brother. Fred does not have long to live, for cancer has stolen him away. He lies in a bed, unable to do anything for himself, and he waits.

Although death is a constant companion in the life of a pastor, this time was different because Fred is family. For thirty years, Fred has come to visit, or we have visited with him. We have ridden motorcycles together across the United States. We have sailed the waters of Puget Sound on his boat. We have played music together. Like all of my other family members who have gone on in the journey of eternal life, it will be difficult to imagine life without Fred being a part of it.

Soon we will travel back to Washington, to remember Fred and celebrate his life, to remember those times and places, and that will be a good thing. But it was also a good thing that there was time and space to go there, to talk together, to sing together, and to pray together; to tie together those loose ends which were never tied before, and maybe that is the very best beginning to a new year. Maybe also, it is a reminder to do those things with the living every day of the year to come, and that would be one awesome resolution!!