Via Beatta--the Blessed Way

That extra hour that comes with the autumn "fall back" is something I look forward to.  Even though I know it comes with early darkness, leafless trees, and the chill and snow of winter.  This year, I remembered to change all of the clocks and devices  that don't automatically adjust.  Well, all but my car clock that takes two or three tries to stick.     So, the first morning of Central Standard Time was, of course, a Sunday, my early day.  Still up early, but that extra hour felt luxurious.  Then came Monday. A day that I can take my time. Sleep in just a bit.  What was that sound wrenching me out of my slumber?  Ah, my cat.      Ms. Maggie is not noisy.  She doesn't often speak.  And when she does, it is with a soft voice, just a small interval above the middle range.  But this morning, that voice is insistent.  What?  I roll over, head under the pillow. That seems to work for a while, or maybe my snoring blocks the meows.  Soon, though, I rise out of the sleepy

The world is remembering this week the 25th anniversary of the fall of the Berlin Wall.  It made me recall that just 10 months later, I was in Germany during Reunification Day, a national holiday with broadcasts from Berlin.  I was only in Bavaria, but everyone was out in the countryside riding bicycles or hiking.  Even though I didn't speak or understand German, I could enjoy the historic and festive spirit.  Here are some remembrances of the trip: "The Rule" was simple.  If my sons did a semester abroad, Mom got to go visit.  So, as soon as #1 son's travel information began to arrive and deposits were paid, I began to talk about making some of my own.  It would be my first international trip--to Salzburg Austria--and I didn't really know where to start.  It was then that my mother tossed out a wild idea:  "why don't you take your father with you?" He had never been outside the U.S. either, even when he served in the Army Air Corps and expected to

It is Earth Day.  And the third of the Great Fifty Days of Easter.  The first day, of course, was the wonderful celebration of the Resurrection -- after a moving walk through Holy Week with its Stations of the Cross, its Maundy Thursday foot washing and stripping of the altar leaving a church bared of its sparkling brass and seasonal color, leaving the yawning, empty tabernacle.  At the same time, a flower and light-filled altar in our chapel where the relocated bread and wine rest--the garden of vigil with Jesus. And the promise of His continuing presence. Then, Good Friday, its story of the Passion and veneration of the cross.  The cross enters the stripped church and is laid at the foot of the chancel where it is approached by the people, anointed with oil and holy water, and sprinkled with red rose petals, reminiscent, perhaps of the women at the cross ministering to Jesus' body. Holy Saturday--a time of silence and waiting.  But in reality, it is the final preparation for

  This morning has dawned mild and lovely--such a welcome break from the roller coaster of weather in past weeks. My back door is propped open letting in a cool, clean breeze, and the warm sun streams through the kitchen window. The raggedy line of snow and ice crystals almost visibly recedes on the patio, and I can begin to imagine sitting out there in the spring or summer warmth. The hummingbird feeder will be filled, the hills will turn green and produce a variety of floral treasures, and the top will come down on my car! And even if we know that this will not stay this way for a while, it is to be embraced and enjoyed for now. I love to watch the water in different seasons. The Galena River is not so exciting, I think, when totally frozen over and piled high with snow. But in different freeze and thaw cycles it is fun to see the changing patterns of water and ice floes. This brings to mind another late winter, a few years ago when the temperature finally climbed above 40 de

So...Fred Phelps died on Thursday.  Some of us might prefer to shrug and say, "So, what?" Others say, "Good riddance" and harbor wishes for him to receive the kind of judgment he preached. Others, though, higher minded than that, remind us that we do not preach his kind of judgment but of a God who loves all that we should, therefore, be gracious, even to someone who injured so many.   In case you do not recognize the name, he was the founder of the Westboro Baptist Church based in Topeka, Kansas (no relation to other baptist denominations) who spewed hatred in rallies beginning in 1991 at synagogues, churches, mosques; at funerals and public events, and at colleges and other institutions.  His main target was lesbians and gays, but he stretched his homophobic theology to blame 9/11 and military deaths on this country's broadening perspective on gay civil rights and, more recently, gay marriage.   Much of the country, including me, became aware of WBC when i

I had a very fine nap after this first Sunday of Lent with its long opening procession with the chanted Great Litany. And, we moved to Daylight Saving Time during the night, so in addition to getting up very early to finish the sermon, I lost another hour.  It is the practice at Grace to also switch to Rite I during Lent.  I am not thrilled with that as my tongue gets tripped up in the "thees," "thous," "eths," and "ests."  Nevertheless, it was a fine liturgy with the annual theme of "temptation." It was also the first Sunday in a long while (or a least it seems so) that there was not snow overnight along with the anxiety of driving, parking, and even walking!  What a relief!  I did have to slide to the car as my low area near the house was frozen over early this morning.  Of course, it was melted when I got home from church, so I had to wade back in! Grace also produces a devotional booklet each Lent.  People volunteer to write f

My view from the Chicago sun porch early this morning was a lake frozen much further out than I remember in my 10 winters here.  At the far eastern edge, where the sky meets the water, there was a narrow royal blue ribbon of water.  That was all.  The rest was snow-covered ice.  Now, mid-afternoon, there are scattered pools of blue--a sign that, indeed, today's temperature finally moved above freezing.  Cars that still look to be stuck in unplowed ruts will soon be freed.  The dogs walking by with their people do not have their paws in little boots.  They look friskier today. And the sun peers through the overcast sky.  Tonight is to bring a "freezing mix" and lower temperatures again, but it will not dive so deeply.  Perhaps not until next winter. This has truly seemed to be the longest winter ever.  Probably because there has not been a time in months that the ground was not covered in snow.  More like winters I remember when I was a kid.  It reminds me of a favorite