Courageous Gifts of Roots

About four hundred years ago, a family left Wales for a newly founded Penn’s Colony. With a few older boys in tow, and one who made his appearance when crossing the Atlantic (aptly named Seaborn), they made the voyage successfully. Settling into the colony, the family became established in their community. Time passed, generations branched out and moved southwest into Kentucky. Deep into timbered hills, where shadows rest late in the morning and pull along evening’s approach early, families were established. Gardens were planted, homes were built and a few lone settlers became communities.

On a recent trip I was reminded of the gift of roots. It took courage to leave a home in Wales and travel across an ocean; to later say goodbye to the established colony and settle the frontier of the Appalachian hills. Generations continued, learning to lean on each other as they formed their own families, taking root and becoming communities.

I watched and listened as family surrounded me last week. Each unique in their gifts, each very special. This beautiful hilled place will be forever my family home, a holder of stories and songs that rise in the memory like the morning mist. Each generation has the opportunity to be a builder for the next, to give them another strong layer upon which to place their own structure. I also am part of the branching out, and in so doing found a new home.    

Chainsaw Chorus

A storm blew in a few days ago. It blew in, blew through, and blew some things over.  When the storm blew past, a chainsaw chorus started to play around the neighborhood.  Chainsaws started playing at their various pitches from all around.   The song of a storm became the song of a neighborhood cleaning up, the sound of people checking on each other, the sound of recovery occurring.  There was a death in our community with this storm, and there is also the sound of grieving losses of something that is not replaceable. 

Picking up some branches, listening to the chainsaws, I thought of the song that resonated with me with the last tornado, “God of Wonders.”  A severe storm, not one of my favorite natural occurrences by any stretch of the imagination, does serve to remind me that God is indeed a God of wonders.  Some of those wonders the very dangerous storms.  And, once the storm has passed, He is the God of wonders as we start loving our neighbors.  The song of the storm, the song of the chainsaw – it’s the same chorus of the wonder God who teaches us to love Him and our neighbors.  

Well-Fare

   A little post has been going around facebook about drug testing for those on welfare.  Something about how Florida legislation is about to enact a drug testing policy for those on welfare.  I can put out the disclaimer that I am neither a legal expert or political one.  I’m just a citizen who has seen some of the “poor”, rich in family, hope, and dreams – poor in finances, economic stability, and economic growth potential. 

   So, welfare drug testing, don’t have drug testing – I don’t know.  We are making complicated issues so simplistic in arguments that it doesn’t even provide the justice to understand that these are the lives of real people.  And, unfortunately, I also don’t have any big suggestions on how to fix this.  There is abuse of this system, which shouldn’t occur.  But, how do we really fix this?  How do we really, as communities, reach out to those who are truly unable to work and prepare them to be productive workers?  How do we move into the next generation to teach them with spirited compassion, restoring and renewing?  How do we address the real problems, without cutting out the source of provider that may be tending to the rest of the family? 

   There is a legend of a Gordian knot.  The legend goes that a city had a knot that was a centerpiece of their temple, with 100 ropes woven in and out.  It was extremely complex and none of the ends showed.  It was considered lucky to stop and try to figure out the knot’s secret before leaving the town, but nobody could succeed.  One day, Alexander the Great came to this city and challenged with this knot, he simply sliced it into two parts – thus the knot was dissolved. 

   This whole thing, it’s a great big Gordian knot, with well more than one hundred parts.  There are ends not exposed and other ends that look real, but are really fake.  This whole well (sound, able, thriving, properly, goodly) fare (get along, manage, cope, progress, advance), will hopefully become sound progress, thriving advancement, goodly coping, and properly getting along.  That will live it up to it’s name.  Of course, it will take a community to do.  

Coffee & Water Break

   A long time ago, I lived in Florida and there were two hurricanes. The first went through, and then the second followed only a month later. If you have never been through a hurricane, think tornado, but magnified over and over. Midst the roads that had been swept away, the flooding, the wind and storm damage, there was a small army of people who went out and started working. There were crews putting back the lines, repairing piping, patrolling, and in general putting the town back together. Working in the heat and humidity, the crews there received a mix of thanks and hostile hurry ups.

   Just this week in Iowa we have had a blizzard, in a storm that covered many states with snow and ice. There are many people who were left without power, in very messy snow drifted and ice covered circumstances. People headed out into the crazy weather, to do their job and help others. It is easy to complain, to moan and groan about circumstances. But, let’s remember those people who are working hard, as their own driveways remain needing plowed and their only families are missing them. Let’s remember to take them coffee and water and say thank you. You can make a difference to your community as well.

Impact of Community

   The story of the birth of Christ tends to find it’s center around Mary and Joseph and that wee baby. But, there were others there in the pages. Zechariah, Elizabeth, the shepherds, Simeon, Anna – the names I’m sure that are just a sampling of those who formed a community around the new parents. The people who surrounded Mary and Joseph provided a support for them. Perhaps there was advice offered, wisdom, how to’s, and questions answered about babies.

   Community can have a great impact, to strengthen a person or people. When a community is strong, the individual is stronger because of it. We learn to rely on each other, to use our strengths and the strengths of others. I think back to part of my own community –there are five of us. Five women who have worked together, laughed and cried together, grown together, and searched together. A community which has brought me great joy and times of great prayer shared. Together we are stronger, more able to handle the worlds difficulties. The strength of the tender heart is balanced with the practical, the worrier is balanced with the one gifted with faith assurances. We are not a perfect community and I do not seem them nearly as often as I would like – but we are a community nonetheless.
   Who is in your community? Is it a healthy community? Perhaps you need to move to a different “part of town” so to speak. Is it a wonderful community that you can rely on and be relied on in return? If so – that is a wonderful thing. Enjoy and be blessed by it. In the meanwhile, remember this:
  Luke 2: 15-20
“When the angels had left them and gone into heaven, the shepherds said to one another, ‘Let’s go to Bethlehem and see this thing that has happened, which the Lord has told us about.’ So they hurried off and found Mary and Joseph, and the baby, who was lying in the manger. When they had seen him, they spread the word concerning what had been told them about this child, and all who heard it were amazed at what the shepherds said to them. But Mary treasured up all these things and pondered them in her heart. The shepherds returned, glorifying and praising God for all the things they had heard and seen, which were just as they had been told.”

Impact Today

   A child born thousands of years ago had an eternal impact on our history. He lived, grew, died, and lived again – lives still. My impact on history, I have no doubt, is going to be smaller than that. In fact it will be considerably smaller than that. But, I can have an impact none the less.

   So the difficulty I’m having is how? I’m a busy girl. Places to go, people to see, presents to wrap, puppies to chase… There is work, activities, church, family, friends, some time for growth, study, me, time for creativity, time for prayer, time for studies. Where does that make an impact get slotted in?
   There are only a few days left until Christmas and as my to do list seems to grow rather than shrink, I stand between feeling as if I am making progress and just treading water. Make an impact, that vague statement gets moved down my list to a lower and lower number just because it’s difficult to act on something that is vague and unscheduled.
   So, between now and then, I’m challenging myself to make an impact each day and I’ll tell you about my successes (or failures). I’ll toss out the challenge to you as well. Maybe together, we can truly a large impact on our communities.

The Impact

   I’ve been blogging about the concept behind the community that was impacted by their involvement in eternal history. A baby is born and it ripples the history of the world for a family, generations even perhaps. But, after so many many years, the current significance wanes and it becomes historical impact instead. Then, there was a child born that changed the precedent and made such an impact that it forever changed history and our current lives.

   You are most likely familiar with parts of the Christmas story. Maybe it’s the touch of the mother Mary holding her new baby. Or perhaps it’s through the beautiful and ear catching tunes of the season. But, there are many details that we are not privy too. And thinking about the impact of that life, the birth of God’s son, I cannot imagine the community being impacted in anything less than dramatic and impactful. We are not told the story of the how the shepherds retold the story of that night filled with angels for years to come. We do not know what the actual sight of the birth was like, who heard the cry of a woman giving birth, who heard the sound of a brand new baby. Who held him and watched him blow bubbles as all babies do or roll over for the first time? Did Joseph pace or sit near Mary, encouraging her. Perhaps he was squeamish and removed himself from the birthing area. Were there others there to help her? Zechariah was part of Mary’s life and no longer silent after his son John was born. How did he share that story, with whom?
   In my own community, there are many who are preparing to celebrate. My own hands are feeling the tired strain of writing Christmas cards, knowing that my a’s and e’s and starting to blur together in cursive writing. Trees are decorated, presents are purchased (though not yet wrapped), there are parties and programs, choir concerts, friends and dinners. Such a hubbub of the next few weeks. Obviously, that birth still impacts us in a tangible way now. But, what about our hearts, does it impact our hearts? The birth was a miraculous thing. It entailed the sovereign Son of God relinquishing his total control, total power to a mother and father who did not have a manual in how to raise him. There was no magic wand that could be simply waved over his head and wah-lah – it’s all done and good. It took work and care. Today, the relationship with Jesus still takes work and care. And the effort that is plied into this will be reimbursed many times over, in an eternally impactful way.

Just Think of All of Those Stories

   The car parks and I reluctantly leave the song on the radio. I walk up one block and down the hill on the other. An apartment complex, with ground mustard brownish yellow colored bricks, takes up about a quarter of the block. Inside are rooms and rooms filled with seniors who have come here to live as a place where they can get some basic assistance and no yard work. I see them on the patio, gathered in little conversational groups, and in more solitary fashion on the benches.

   With these people all gathered in one place, there are some days it is all I can do to resist heading in there with notepad and pen rather than continuing on past the library and then into work. These people have seen major world events and have walked through their own major life events. Surely they have something to share with us, a drop of wisdom, a guffaw or two, a need for a Kleenex type story, and then back to the guffaws.
   I don’t know that I will ever actually charge into that complex; notebook, pen, Kleenex, and listening ear all at the ready. But, I hope that someone does, that someone stops to gather the stories.