An Accounting

Over the years Christmastime has run the gauntlet of emotion...full of wonder watching my children with unabashed love, tragedy watching my dieing mother talking of being with my brother in heaven Christmas the next year, heartwrenching the year of my divorce, the children caught in the crossfire of betrayal and hatred, exhilerating full of laughter and love with my husband, children and grandchildren. No matter what the emotion, one thing has stayed constant, an accounting.



It's not the bean counter type of accounting, it's an accounting of the soul. Each week at the beginning of the Lutheran service in our communial confession we pray for forgiveness for what we have done and what we have left undone. The done is obvious and if we aren't aware of what we have done, there is always someone willing and eager to tell us. For that we ask forgiveness. For me what goes deeper into the soul is what is left undone. For the undone resides most often in the depths of our soul. It is between us and God. We know what we could have done, should have done but didn't. I know the times I saw need and turned away. No one else saw but I did. I know the times I dealt out anger, cruelty, judgement, disinterest.

With the turning of the calendar, there is a turning of the soul. I look back at the year gone by and measure what I've done or not done. With anticipation I look to the new year, not so much to make resolutions, for we all know just how well those turn out, but to renew. A new year, like fresh snow is spotless, smooth and glistening. I have the chance to make amends, and begin again. And I will. Happy New Year to everyone, may your New Year bring happiness, good health, love and peace.

Hot flashes and Giving

For many years I was on hormone replacement therapy because I had a hysterectomy when I was 45, so I never went through menopause. My very young yet good doctor suggested since it had been 10 years and I should really go through menopause, it was time to stop using the patch. That was OK with me since it tended to stick to my underwear all the time. So, off came the patch and on came the hot flashes. Not major by any means, just warmth and beads of sweat easily handled as they were this morning by using the church bulletin.
Sitting in the pew (chair actually) next to my very, very dear friend, celebrating Christ the King Sunday, which is an hour rundown of the church year in readings and hymns, I experienced several hot flashes which I liken to small tremors of my body. What the hot flashes remind me of is that I'm really not in charge of anything. I cannot stop them, they come and go as they please. The service always reminds me that I'm not in charge of anything, what I have, all that I am is a gift from God. I am to use what I have and who I am in service to Him, not me.
The giving came to me this morning at the breakfast provided between services as part of the Stewardship initiative at church. People spoke of their covenant with our church, with our community both local and beyond. As one speaker pointed out, Lutherans are not comfortable with the word covenant, but in the context of our relationship to each other and to God, it is A OK.
What the Pastor said made us laugh, not only because it was funny, but because it made us nervous. He stated that by giving of our time, talent and treasure, he and our Senior Pastor could not guarantee us winning the lottery, or getting that great job or winning any favor. What giving does is reminds us we are not here for ourselves, by giving we are here for each other. It simply isn't about us. I think sometimes in the way far recesses of our minds we hope it is. That was the nervous laughter I heard, which is fine, for after all we are human. Everyday we hear and see those great advertisements that cleverly entice us to buy or at least dream of buying what we don't need..for after all, isn't it all about us? About me?
This morning, hot flashes and wonderful testimonies of giving soothed my soul...faith is not reaching in, it's reaching out, cosmically we aren't in charge of anything, but we ARE here to do our very best for each other.

Freedom and Thanks

I've been married for a total of 36 years, although not all to the same husband. Yesterday, October 18, was the 17th year of freedom from my first husband which I celebrated quietly in my mind by watching the Vikings not necessarily win the game, Baltimore lost it. I traced my walk through the Morris County court house, the judge bringing down the gavel and saying congratulations, you are a free woman. The judge being female understood. I walked down the long steps of the courthouse out to a cool, damp day and smiled. While it was a day of liberation for me, I know it cost my children dearly. They endured the ravages of divorce, the yelling, the outright hatred, the betrayal of their family. I packed them up and moved them to Minnesota, without asking, without looking back. I know it was a terrible burden for them and left them with many questions about fidelity and love and most importantly trust. I could not answer their questions, often times because I didn't know the answer, most of the time because it was too painful. My daughter, Megan, struggled with what is a relationship and I know vowed not to get burned. Fortunately, she cast her fear aside and is now in a great relationship with Jason.
My son, Ralph has shared it was difficult finding a way to be a man, but now he knows...he still struggles with what to call his birth father, being Dad or his given name, seeing as they are both named Ralph.
But quietly, persistently, thank God, a guy named Ted came into our lives. He has a Marine walk, a Marine talk and on the inside he is mush. He is a guy with a sense of humor when he doesn't try, knows so much about so many things, stubborn and gentle, opinionated and passionate. He took us into his life and called us wife, daughter and son...not step daughter and step son..he would have none of that. He champions them as he does his daughter or rather I should say our daughter, Stephanie. He accepts us for who we are and who we aren't. It is the first time in my life I'm unconditionally loved. I hope Megan and Ralph know that too. Ted, despite his sometimes growliness, loves them unconditionally. Thank you, Ted, we love you unconditionally back.

Disappearing Eyebrows

A few days ago, I received an email attachment about getting older. For some reason, I get a lot of these, I am after all just middle aged. This particular attachment, while very funny, spoke some truths and solved a few mysteries for me. Specifically, it mentioned the disappearing eyebrows and under arm hair. Indeed as I put my makeup on in the morning, I've noticed my eyebrow, while greying are also not as full. At 6:30 in the morning I chalk it up to not enough vitamins. Who knew it was a rampant problem of the over 55 crowd?
I've also noticed the past few times I've deemed it time to shave under my arms, instead of making sure my razor is sharp to take down the forest, I've instead made sure I have my super power glasses on to hone in on the two lonely stray hairs. Two mysteries solved in one email!
It sited the clarity with which the disappearing and thinning hair, aching joints crowd begins to view the the world. After 55, what was imperative, such as keeping up with the Jones doesn't matter anymore. What matters is keep up with friends. Instead of collecting stuff, we collect hugs and laughs. We look at those older than us and say, that's me in 10 or 15 years...we hope we will be in as good a shape or vow to take better care of ourselves while there is still time. We look at those younger than us and wonder what triumphs and tragedies await them when we are gone. We look at our students and remember to treat them nicely for in only a few short years, they may be in charge of US in a nursing home. Most of all, at least for me, I breath deep every day, grateful for family, for friends, for the life the good Lord has blessed me with. I try my hardest every day and remember at the end of the day there is Grace.

MEA

MEA is that time in October when teachers are to attend the annual convention to gain knowledge, look at the gagets and gizzmos offered by high priced academic vendors and commiserate. I got up this morning and my wonderful husband asked, "Don't you have a conference today?" Standing in my pj's, with my wild thinning get up hair, eyeing the coffee pot I responded, "What??" "You know conference." "Oh, convention, it's in the Twin Cities, not sure if that is Minneapolis or St. Paul." My now step down from a wonderful husband walked away muttering something about my dedication to my profession.
I suppose some people will think that not taking advantage of all the convention has to offer, or even a little is displaying my lack of enthusiasm for my job. Perhaps. But as my colleague said to me as I began walking out of the office yesterday, loaded down with books and papers, "Remember Kathy, don't think about this place at all for the next four days...it is time to rejuvenate." Without a word, I walked back to my desk and dropped what was in my arms. She was right. For some of us teachers, MEA is a time to let go of all the tension, slow the pace, gain some distance and perspective about what we do every day. For us it's not going to the convention and being bombarded on the outside. It's quiet time alone for reflection and re dedication on the inside to our profession.