The week that “flu” by

It’s Friday. How can it be Friday???

I have slept, shivered, sweat and snuffled through a whole week. Sunday in the night, I started shivering (with a quilt, electric blanket and very warm cat on me). Hmmmm…. something is not right… By daybreak I knew I had the flu. It didn’t take a flu test at an urgent care to tell me that, but it did get me a script for Tamiflu, and permission to sleep without guilt.

So I did.

Completely. Utterly. Slept like a log. For freaking days.

Somewhere around Wednesday, I realized I stank and needed a shower, so I took one. And slept the rest of the day. Thursday, I changed the sheets on the bed. And slept the rest of the day. (See a pattern here? I’m a slow learner… but I eventually figured it out.)

When little bits of energy would bubble up, I would answer emails from my supervisor… feeling frustrated that I couldn’t help with the workload. But I was told that everyone who has come down with this bug has been out at least a week. A week. So I should stay home and get well!!

Thank GOD I have sick leave, I thought on more than one occasion. Thank GOD I don’t face a penalty at my job for actually being sick.

The week has been full of productive things like emptying boxes of tissues, sweating through pajamas and having weird dreams. As in…

I dreamed that Ken and I stopped by to pick up some things for our beloved Gardener and partner. They needed a delivery of supplies, including a cow. Yes. A lovely black and white Guernsey cow, which we were able to buy off the floor at Lowe’s and take to our car. And she very nicely climbed in the back of my Subaru, placidly knelt down, and we drove her out to their place, while she hung her head over the seat and chewed her cud.

OK, that never happened. But I woke up just a little confused because I could still SEE the cow in my dreams… standing in Lowe’s… getting in the back of my Forester… hanging out very comfortably…

WOW. That Tamiflu is some really good stuff.

My brain is starting to work a little today, and I’ve been thinking about how this illness will help inform my pastoral work. (It’s an occupational hazard.) So here goes…

  1. Absolutely NO precautions are 100%. I guarantee you that I was exposed to the flu by the guy behind me on my flight last week who was coughing and sneezing and announcing to his seat mates, “I feel like crap.” “I feel like I was hit by a truck.” He probably exposed the whole airplane with his airborne snot factory projectiles. Thanks. Dude. Even so, WASH YOUR HANDS. COVER YOUR SNEEZE. Don’t be a jerk.
  2. Stay Home Guilt-Free. There is nothing more helpful for getting well than not making someone feel guilty for staying home when they are sick. Seriously. My boss said, PLEASE stay home. Get well. Most people are out a week.  Now I was certain that I would be back at work by Thursday. Or Friday at the latest. BWAHAHAHAHAHAHA. Nope. Nope. Nope.
  3. Getting well takes energy. It also includes eating well. It also includes not being asked to make decisions about eating and drinking when you don’t feel well. Lesson learned: Offer. Would you like orange juice or water? Would you like soup or toast? My family gets the A+ on this one.
  4. Lower your expectations. Not only will the laundry not get done, but the ill person won’t care. The dishes will sit in the sink. The bed won’t get made. The reading project you were going to work on? FUGGEDABOUDIT. Sleep. Seriously. SLEEP.
  5. Ignore useless advice. Someone proudly said that they didn’t get these bugs because they always wash their hands and eat well. PUHLEESE. I am “religious” about hand washing (ahahaha — get it?) and I got this thing anyway. Some bugs are just very contagious. And I eat fairly well, even green vegetables thankyouverymuch. (With the exception of things which are gross like Brussels sprouts. Because there’s no way those stink bombs should be food.) And I take probiotics and yada yada yada. Save it.
  6. Stay home until you are well. (See #2 above). It is my firm desire to preach on Sunday… but I’m not there yet. It’s only Friday… I hopefully will be better… and not touch anyone who is immunocompromised if I do go to church.
  7. If you have dreams about cows riding in your car, you are still sick. Stay. Home.

Yeah, I’d rather have had a more “productive” week. But I will settle for being healthy, instead.

I think I’m on the mend.

Deep Peace

John Rutter’s setting of the Gaelic blessing, “Deep Peace” is playing in the background. I have finished some writing, some house cleaning, put away the laundry and reviewed my calendar for the week… and have a few moments to just sit and Be.

At the silent retreat last month, I had opportunity to do some journaling and praying. My prayers were answered, though not how I expected. Not at all. And yet as I re-read my journal entry, I realized the words were still true:

In God’s silence, in God’s seeming inactivity, so much is going on. Just like the frozen pond in winter, with the peepers and fish buried deep in the bottom muck, things may be still, but they are forming. Within me, there is also — a deeper, cognitive, spiritual and intrinsically peaceful level of change in my soul. 

Would I have known the depths of a yearning for this as-yet unknown Call had I not been still enough to hear it? The quiet is unforced, just as God’s leading, not changed by my wishes but shaped by God’s wisdom.

There is comfort in knowing this… deep within, All is Well. There is so much NOISE in keeping Silence. Well, non-noise, really. And in all of this non-noise, there are reminders of life and hope and peace… surrounding and filling me. There is so much to hear that I can only BE in it.

lichen

I know this Deep Peace, though I have no way of explaining it… only being IN it. Though I still wrestle and complain, (and yes, ask my ‘WHYs’ and ‘WHY NOTs’) I still walk in a place of abiding Love.

I share all this because, I suspect that you, who stumble onto this blog, have your own questions and doubts just sitting there, too. And I believe, down to my toes, that even with unknown answers, it is Enough to just Be. Here. Now. In the Presence of the Divine…

Deep peace of the running wave to you.
Deep peace of the flowing air to you.
Deep peace of the quiet earth to you.
Deep peace of the shining stars to you.
Deep peace of the gentle night to you.
Moon and stars pour their healing light on you.
Deep peace of Christ,
of Christ the light of the world to you.
Deep peace of Christ to you.

Christmas in the Emergency Department

Not your usual Christmas feast!

I have to be honest. This pastor’s Christmas joy was a little flat this year. But inspire of how I felt, there was a lot of joy in the middle of the mess.

This Advent opened in a true Spirit of anticipation. I was aware of my own sense of waiting and longing. It collapsed around me when, during the week immediately preceding Christmas, I found out that I was not selected for a new ministry opportunity. It stung like hell. It was (and is) heartbreaking, but it is also for the best. Recovering slowly from my disappointment, I discovered I was not really up for the last minute Christmas shopping and planning.

On top of that, our church is facing a challenging financial twist which not only affects our church as a whole, but eliminates the salary for my (very) part-time job. I am serving, for now, in a volunteer capacity.

The usual hilarious disorganization of a Christmas Eve service was compounded by the Choir Director leading despite a bad case of laryngitis, and choir members inexplicably deciding to make other plans and miss the candlelight Christmas Eve service. By the time the service started, I was finally in sync, enjoying the people in our congregation, and our celebration of Love arriving on the Earth in human form.

Just to keep things interesting… In the early hours of Christmas morning, a GI virus and its complications meant that I spent Christmas Day in the ED with one of our beloved daughters. The rest of the family put the turkey dinner and gift-giving on hold.

As I sat with our daughter, watching over her, I had a new appreciation for the staff who work on holidays. I have worked many of them in years past as a chaplain. It is hard to keep your spirits up when you know you are missing your own family’s celebrations. The ED staff, was, to a person, kind, caring and helpful.

But I also thought about the families who had a disappointing Christmas that day. My hospice families who tried to celebrate in the middle of loss. I remembered the families and spouses of those in the military, and first responders. Their Christmas celebrations were impacted, too, and in far greater ways.

Today our daughter is on the mend. We cooked the turkey and all of the accompaniments. The cranberries and stuffing, potatoes and carrots graced the table too. (We won’t talk about my gravy… it was, as per usual, disappointing.) The cookie dough will get baked… eventually. Flights to holiday celebrations are being re-booked for a healthier day.  And all is well.

In the middle of the mess that is life in the ED, I was reminded that the message of the Christ Child is the center of my Faith. In impossible situations, with unlikely companions, despite all odds, God breaks through with another “I love you” and a “Hallelujah!”

I don’t want to make it an annual event, but I am grateful for God’s speaking through the clanging of culture, sickness and politics to declare: 

“Don’t be afraid!
Look! I bring good news to you
wonderful, joyous news for all people.”

Luke 2:10

 

Let ev’ry heart prepare…

What do pastors do to prepare for Christmas, you ask?

We vacuum. We untangle Christmas lights. We find missing hymnals and restock the pews. We set up an ironing board so that the choir can “freshen” up their robes.

We resuscitate poinsettias that someone forgot to water. (And compost the ones that don’t make it.)

We refresh the greens in the sanctuary and figure out where the tapers are for the candlelight service.

And we pray for our congregants and our visitors, that the Light of the world will shine through in new ways.

And then, we go home and put our feet up for just a minute… before finishing that next round of baking, wrapping, and cleaning. ‘Cause Christmas is coming!!

Merry Christmas!!

Cross-posted: Friday Prayer – Almost but not yet

Cross-posted from RevGals today…

2014-08-03 19.20.03

Holy One,
we are in this time
of almost
but not yet.

We tell of your promised return
but not yet.
Of the wearied hearts who wait
and grieve
and yet rejoice
for it is that time
for the Babe to be our King… and yet
not quite yet.
This Advent winds to a close
almost
but not yet
And we wait
we dream
our vision a haze
of future joys
and realized Promises.
We see imperfectly,
in a blur,
praying for all you will yet do…

We wait
in peace
and joy
for You, Divine One,
for this time
of almost
and not yet.

Amen. And Amen.

Winter Solstice Blessing

Winter Solstice Blessing

From Karen Clark’s blog and book A Path of She

Nature remembers what we humans have forgotten – that every cycle must return to stillness, and to the dark.

Every out-breath requires an in-breath

Every outer endeavor turns back inward to its origins, its center, in order to begin again.

From death comes new life, and from darkest night, the new dawn is born.

May the darkness of winter bring new appreciation of the Light.