I am cursed!

I was beginning to suspect it. But now it has been confirmed by my AC/heater/washing machine/dehumidifier/refrigerator repairman!

I heard Mr. Dickens raising a ruckus by the front door early this afternoon while I was in the backyard cleaning the bird cage. When I opened the door I found Payne, my long delayed repairman who'd come to repair the washing machine he had loaned me seven months ago. Or, in other words, he came to repair his washing machine.

He dropped my dehumidifier, still dripping from its cleaning, into the sunshine on the side of the porch. "You want me to leave it here to air dry, right?"

"Sure." I responded, looking doubtfully at the water dripping from the vents and wondering if an electrical appliance should look as though it was just pulled out of a tub.

"It wasn't very dirty, you know."

"Yeah, it shouldn't have needed cleaning for a full year, but we'd found some mold behind the shower and we'd cleaned it out. You know all it takes is one spore . . ."

"Yeah . . ."

Sometimes you know the message wasn't lost on a person. Most people lose the message about mold spores, but Payne is obviously more intelligent than most.

"That's a neat little machine--you know that? Easy to clean, not much to 'em."

I could tell he was intrigued by it. "My sister has one in her basement." He launched into an explanation of how it works as he followed me through to the kitchen. I indicated the sick fridge. He took a look at it and not much of one either. "Might as well buy a new one."

"You mean you can't fix it?"

"Not worth it. It'd cost $500.00 or more. Might as well buy a new one."

He headed out in the direction of the washing machine. The refrigerator had been an unscheduled stop.

As he scanned the situation, my guilty streak kicked in and I said, "I really ought to pay you for those--they don't look like much, but they've been doing a great job." I'd hate to part with the $50.00 he wanted for them, but I really ought to. 'A month or two' is long gone!

"Yeah, good machines. They're really Maytags, you know?"

"No! I'd never even heard of that brand before."

"Sold by Sears." That began a discussion about how appliances used to be made and how differently their construction had been forty years ago, including the story of a friend's dad who has had a dryer for that long and it has only needed three small parts replaced in all those years. "Yep, 1968," he said as he bent down behind the washer.

He borrowed a flat head screwdriver and started breaking into the top of it. "You must be cursed," he said as the top plopped back revealing the strange looking works at the heart of the machine.

"Yeah, I think I am."

"You're having quite a streak of bad luck here."

"All year."

He became serious about the operation of the washer, replaced the broken part and replaced the framing. And then, as though the conversation about curses hadn't been broached before, he said, "I think you're cursed."

As soon as I had seen him out the door, I climbed into the car to go to Sears and check out the Whirlpool refrigerators he'd recommended. As though we can afford a new fridge! The old one was dated 1998, top of the line Amana. I'm not buying top of the line anymore.

Ike and his guitar:

I know this is dark. It is darker online than on my computer. If he will re-record Autumn Leaves I will upload that one too. He's good at jazz. He loves Autumn Leaves so much and plays Joe Pass' (?) rendition of it so often that it has become the theme for my life now. Maybe I can encourage him to shine a little bit more light on the subject.

"Anglican Chant"

Here is a link to a . . . ahem . . . beautiful example of Anglican Chant.

Highway

and here is another one (I had to clear my history before I could load the second one):


Weather Report

Uhmmm . . . ?

Eucharistic theology created with QuizFarm.com

You scored as Orthodox You are Orthodox, worshiping the mystery of the Holy Trinity in the great liturgy whereby Jesus is present through the Spirit in a real yet mysterious way, a meal that is also a sacrifice. Orthodox 88% Calvin 81% Catholic 75% Luther 69% Zwingli 44% Unitarian 44%

five word game:

I am playing around in a Christian poetry and writing group online. They have a little game where five words are presented, a poster writes a poem with them and then assigns the next person five different words. Initially, I played with the first two challenges and then wrote a third to post as a participant.

Here they are:

wispy, wool, tangled, frenzy, ancient
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~`

In ancient days the simple wool cossack and wispy white hair surrounding balding pate showed wisdom and inspired confidence
and so in worldly wisdom the youthful thought it worth the frenzy, in tangled frame of mind, to present their wisdom in shaving a balding pate!

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

yellow, pincher, pole, particle, hour

The first one I wrote:

moderate, solution, widespread, complete

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

A way of life centered in habits that moderate between extremes.
The youthful rarely care, but increasing age and mortality looming
creates widespread concerns to maintain health, avoid excess and complete our allotted span of years.

(I didn't say they were good!)

The second:

satisfied, foamy, scatter, truths, wither

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Foamy edged waves race over sand as smoothly as water over marble,
tiny bubbles pop and crackle as toes wriggle into the sand and peek and hide.
Wind will scatter leaves and blows chill down snugged collars,
it presses with pride to drive all ahead to end in hidden hollows.
Satisfied with little memories held dear, our truths more like sand than wind that will wither the last flower driving in the bitter cold.

Stunted growth:

This past spring a number of maples came up in the shady garden on the north side of the house. I chose the healthiest and largest and had my husband dig it up and transplant it to a large bare grassy area of the yard. As the summer wore on, I watered it and watched it, but it never grew. In the meantime, the ones we had left in the unweeded garden tripled in size. The other day, I puzzled over it and realized he must have cut off the tap root. I'm surprised because he knows trees and has worked with them for the past thirty years.

I think that a lot of us are this way about our faith, too. We cut off our tap roots. One of the lessons learned in my spiritual journey was the profound realization of how little I do know. I heard others say that too. It seems the inverse happens, the more I know, the more certain I am of the deficit in my knowledge base. It is in a state of uncertainty that I am most certain! It is in openess that I am ready to receive the message. My own measure of myself was to realize that I don't have the mind of God even though I make the mistake of feeling as though I do. And, so I test what I believe. I allow myself to be challenged by what I read or hear or see. It reminds me of Jesus telling the Jewish people who were in the crowd to "open their ears and hear." Their certainties were keeping their ears closed to his message. And so, in obedience to Christ, I listen with my whole self.

What inspired me in the idea of the tap root today was a discussion with some "mystics" who hate religion. They seem to be hoping to bring an end to the established religions and to teach people that they can be spiritual outside of the traditions and baggage of religion. I copied the definition of religion out of the dictionary and posted it for them to read. I attempted to tell them that even if they shun religion, they are practicing a religion. And given wings, it will develop all the ills of traditional religion. It will have its instruction, its taboos, its praxis and even its tradition. But more importantly to me is that our taproot is the tried and true! It is the centuries of knowledge and experience, success and failure, sharing and loving and hating together that makes our religion a rich resource for us to follow. I'm sorry to say that as I watched the conversation develop, I think their religion is hating religion.

My argument was and is that there is a body of knowledge about the way of the mystics in all the ancient religions. I felt surprised that I even had to point out that I believe religion springs from mystical experience and we gain by the preservation and repetition of it. The contemplative/mystical aspect of traditional praxis in the Christian tradition is often glossed over or misunderstood, rituals practiced without comprehending the full benefits--but of course, I finally came to see the spiritual value in them--so it awaits discovery by each participant one precious gift at a time. Once this is revealed, we look forward to it, joyfully sharing it with the other members of our community, generously encouraging others to come to our table to share it with us. Several times, I have met somebody who said that it was during the Eucharist that they first encountered the risen Lord.

My tap root is the means of being open to the leading of the Holy Spirit as a tap root brings up the living water to nourish the growing tree, so does the Holy Spirit bring me the living water to nourish my growing faith. It is trusting that if in anything I am remiss or I am mistaken, through the Grace of God, I will be set to rights.

I thirst . . .

I thought this would be a happier looking photograph:

It was a slightly blurry image of an angel that is carved into the pulpit of my church. I'd taken it without flash, so it was very soft light in a dark corner. I enjoy playing with photographs in Adobe. I'm afraid I'm not very good at it, but this was an accidental success, in my opinion.

Speaking of angels, I think I had a dream of what might have been my own guardian angel . . . did I write about that one? It was so strange. I've never been very much of a believer in angels, truth be told. But I really wasn't sure how much that was dreaming!

I heard what I thought was my son in the bathroom. I thought I heard his voice. I heard water splashing. But then I became aware that there was someone very close to me. I was aware that I was in bed. I did become frightened and I closed my eyes tight as though I could wish them away and I reached out and grabbed what felt like a person's forearm--physical sensations!--I could feel my fingers grasping the soft flesh, my nails sinking into it. And a woman that I know as well as a sister entered the room. I don't know how I knew who it was, but I did. I told her, "I'm holding somebody's arm and I'm scared to open my eyes and look. Is it safe?" She told me I could let go and I did. And I don't remember any delay or anything. I opened my eyes and I got up and I checked out the house. My son was in his bed sound asleep.

Gives me chills! ;) Weird dream.