The Writer

From as far back as I can remember, I always wanted to grow up to be a writer. I can say with absolute conviction that I have done just that, in every "career" location I have served. The desire to think of myself as a 'writer' grew out of being a voracious reader. As a girl growing up in Mississippi, I read every book in the local library. Books were the way I experienced life beyond my location and limits. So it was natural to aspire to write.

As far as writing a book goes, the extent of my ambition was that I would write just one book. (based on the model of Margaret Mitchell who wrote just one, Gone with the Wind). And I have exceeded my one-book goal, minus the fame. (a collection of short stories in 1987 and a novel in 2009) I have just never felt the urge to pursue the path for publication.

As a writer, it would be true to say that I have come to prefer the shorter forms, such as a sermon or a blog. It would also be true to say that I have no desire to spend the next ten years of my life trying to find an agent. Seeking peace and serenity at this life stage, I would prefer that my life not be filled with that level of disappointment.

If I were to write a book, the model of the book I want to write is something akin to Jonathan Livingston Seagull, a fable about the mysteries of life, a novella. The genre of the one I have in my head I would describe as: spiritual fantasy. That is the book I occasionally wonder whether or not I might yet write.

Maybe a satisfactory solution, taking everything into consideration, is to write my novella as next year's blog. I'm giving that serious consideration!

Sacred Moments

It would be my observation that we tend to forget about really sacred moments in our lives. It is almost as if they are somehow too precious to hold in conscious thought, and get relegated to unconscious thought. Then, something may trigger a memory.

This morning I was reading about Bible Life and Times and ran across a section on anointing. I was most struck by the last sentence: "No longer did God's people need to look to others for spiritual leadership, for all believers have been anointed by the Holy Spirit."

Although I have not thought about it in years, I remembered the exact moment when I felt that happen to me, or specifically, being anointed for spiritual leadership. I was attending local pastor's licensing school in 1990. A group of us were at a retreat center for approximately ten days, focusing on practical preparation for ministry. It involved a lot of spiritual sharing, preaching and being evaluated, mock baptisms and weddings, etc. Being cloistered like that produces a certain kind of bond, and the perfect environment for significant spiritual experience.

At the end of our time together, the leaders of the school, or the faculty held a mock ordination service, including the laying on of hands. They cut up strips of red fabric to put around our necks to symbolize the resonsibility and authority we were undertaking. It was during that experience that I felt the overwhelming anointing of the Holy Spirit.

The memory that I had lost, which came flooding back to me was overwhelming. The faculty member who placed the red strip of cloth around my neck, (anointed me) was The Rev. Samuel Davis. Many years later, I became the pastor of the church in which he was living out his last days, (brain tumor) and I was his pastor, presiding at his funeral.

In biblical times, anointing was the way in which one was dedicated to God's service. Perhaps it was all part of God's plan that I should be the one serving in that church, to lead the celebration of Sam's life. One always wonders why they are sent to a particular place at a particular time. One does assume that God is involved somehow.

Perhaps it was that simple. Coming full circle.

Independence Day

I read in today's paper, the Parade magazine, all the comments on what July 4th meant to a variety of famous people. The answers all seemed to have to do with cookouts and fireworks. Only one out of six or seven mentioned patriotism. At church this morning, independence was linked to us being free from sin, through the gift of Christ, who offered himself for us. We did pause to remember the service and sacrifice made on our behalf by those serving in the military.

I am reading a book at the moment, which happens to be about a woman's spiritual journey, as she participates in a "walkabout" with Aboriginal people in Australia. What she describes about these people, and their traditions and ways and their ancient knowledge, I think best exemplifies what true independence is.

I'd have to say that the basic underlying principles are that of non-attachment and being one with nature. Now, I realize that the notion of non-attachment is typical of eastern religions, particularly Buddhism. But reading about the daily lives of these ancient people as they survived in the desert day after day, has taught me a whole new idea of "independence". One is truly independent when they are not attached to the thing. They are clearly and deeply attached to one another. They are attached to the experience, the feeling, the memory, but not the thing itself. For instance, they created or found in nature what they needed on a daily basis.

If they created musical instrument out of a gourd, and had a spontaneous concert in the desert, with rocks and sticks, and drums, they left the homemade instruments behind. It was the experience that was to be treasured, and the feelings it evoked, not the instruments themselves. They took the joy of the concert with them.

The minimal things they carry are for the benefit of the group; a sharp spear, herbs for medicine, animal skins for warmth when sleeping. Beyond that, the idea of possession is a very strange concept for them.

I got the feeling they were the most independent people I had ever heard of. They carried with them the necessary resources, such as knowledge of how to find water, what plants were edible and which ones not. They depended upon their internal guide and what nature provided. They were completely inter-dependent. They left behind no imprint of their presence.

As Americans, and 'westerners', we mark our independence by remembering how we freed ourselves from the rule of another nation. Countless citizens have fought and died to protect our borders, land, constitution, way of life. Those are all things to which we are deeply attached.

I like the idea of being attached to feelings and experiences and a community/tribe, but not to the material accumulations of our lives. It is an idea I want to ponder and try to understand more deeply.

And I am sure it does not preclude, nor diminish the message of Christ, the Spirit of Christ, who became completely unattached, even to his own life, for the benefit of others.

Running Errands

A gentleman in our church has cancer. He is a beloved, generous person who has done so much for the church. His wife does not drive. I called to ask if there was any way I could be of help, and Brandon said I could help run errands. I didn't know until I got there that that meant I would be taking Vera shopping. Vera is ninety and uses a cane, and moves slowly. Brandon instructed me to hold on to her at all times.

It was a really interesting experience. I knew immediately that would involve changing my pace, adjusting my normal mode of both driving and walking. I would need to shift gears down by about a factor of four.

Vera needed some ladies intimate apparel. She had finally decided to abandon her full body armor in favor of something more comfortable. Shopping with Vera was like stepping back into the 1950's. You could tell that she was accustomed to interacting with a clerk, asking questions, having them help her find each item. I couldn't do that because I had to hold on to her. Clerks on the floor to help are rather scarce these days, of course, but I did get one to appear. I'm sure we were quite a sight, and clearly in need of attention. Then after we identified the appropriate items to purchase, I had to hold on to those too. After a while, it got to be quite a bundle in my left hand, as I held on to her with my right arm. She had her cane in her right hand, plus we both had purses over our shoulders.

I drove much more smoothly than I usually do, coming slowly to stops. I walked at Vera's pace, rather than my speedy clip. I held on to her as instructed, and got her safely home with all the essentials she needed, including three packages of socks for Brandon.

Actually it was kind of fun. I wouldn't mind doing it again! Vera is a very sweet lady, from another era. She is always dressed in the most stylish outfits. Maybe now, she will be more comfortable underneath!