Paperwhites at the ranch

February 1, 2020 - It's a beautiful day here in the Sierra Woods where I live. Yes, it's winter but today the temperature is in the 60's. I am compelled to write as I recall the most recent events in my life.

Just two weeks ago, my sister in law, Pat Jordan, died suddenly, leaving my dear brother Ricky bereft. He had no time to prepare as she died of a pulmonary embolism. I was blessed to be with him for five days. Sometimes we would talk about her life and other times we just sat in the quiet at his beautiful ranch and listened to classical music together.

When I returned to California, I was scheduled to attend a clergy retreat on "Pastors and natural disasters." The timing seemed perfect as I had just experienced my own loss but I wasn't prepared for the giftedness of the event.

I won't go on about the content, but the pastors I met enthralled me. In this day and age when a number of churches are dying, clergy are sometimes less than authentic and continually fuss about their parishes; this group is totally committed to service and loving God. The richness of our sharing will carry me for many days.

Light beaming through the clouds

I write today because I want to declare that parish ministry is alive and well. In my own congregation, we are growing - both in numbers, in faith and in service. We have sooo many leaders in our church who step up to the work every day. This week as I was walking around the property I noticed that trees had been trimmed, the garden had been cleaned, the rubbish had been removed, the kitchen cupboards were organized. I had to ask around quite a bit to find out who had done this. It seems a whole cadre of people! Parishioner had reached out to the visitors who were in church last Sunday without my participation. Our parish care team took care of those who were ill. The clergy I met at the retreat also proclaimed of many good things happening among them.

Friends, we can be discouraged about the plethora of problems facing us now or we can BE THE CHURCH and be the light of Christ. thanks to all my colleagues, friends and family for being the light for me!

St. George Chapel

January 12, 2019
Just this week I learned that a friend and colleague passed away. "Passed away" doesn't quite seem to fit him. He was big on the wisdom mothers and fathers of the desert so maybe he just quietly slipped into eternity with them.  His name is Dr. Charles Melchert and we called him Chuck. I first met him when my husband Daryl was co-teaching with his wife Anabel at Lancaster Theological Seminary.

Chuck and I got to be friends because we would often drive to places where our spouses were performing as they led the seminary Arts Ensemble team on tour. I also had him as one of my professors when I went to seminary. But more than being a theological giant, which he was, more than making complex things understandable, which he did, I loved him for his laugh and his ability to have fun, even amid sorrow.

Chuck and I shared something in common that while it can be a strong bond, I do not wish on anyone. Both of us had sons who died when they were in there 20's. His to an automobile accident and mine to suicide. We didn't talk a lot about it, but I remember two specific times when his presence was an incredible blessing regarding this loss. We were paired in a writing class led by the singer Carrie Newcomer. The assignment was to write:  Before..... and then After:........

It was only a year after my son died so I sat there, knowing that what I would write would only be sadness. I can't remember to this day what Chuck wrote - although I know we discussed it. I wrote, Before my son died, I had so many dreams for him. I looked forward to every time we were together. After he died, all I can do is cry. As we reflected on what we had written, I asked Chuck, "does there ever come a time when you don't cry?" "No," he said, "I cry a little every day." You know, somehow that healed me more than all the well wishers who kept telling me that it gets easier with time. That is not comforting by the way!

Another time we were together in Europe and it so happened that Chuck and I were standing in front of a statute of "The Pieta." We stood there, both of us weeping openly. "She shares our sorrow," I told Chuck, "like us, she lost a son." "You are right," he answered and we both fell silent. It was another moment of dealing with our grief. It was uncanny that both of us were at the same place at the same time. Almost like the Divine One knew I needed a companion at that instant.

The other side of Chuck that made him such a wonder in my eyes was his ability to laugh. He would throw back his head and his deep laugh emanated from his entire being. He loved good stories, good wine and great beers. He taught Daryl and me to fly fish and I'll never forget his approach to mosquitoes. I kept complaining about getting bit, "just don't scratch" he advised, "then it won't itch." Really!?!

He was wise as well as fun. One time when I was preparing for a sermon (still a student) I was confounded about how to make the text come alive and do it in fifteen minutes. So I called him distressed. "Chuck," I exclaimed, "there is just too much in this passage. How will I ever get through it and make it plausible to a congregation in a little sermon?" "You can't," he said, "Just pick one theme and go with it." That advise has helped me for over fifteen years as I write sermons. When I am tempted to make a sermon into a theological paper, I recall his words and hone in on one nugget.

As I remember Chuck today, my heart is blessed. Death is all around me these days. When I came back from my sabbatical, three parishioners died within the first two weeks. Even the woods seem dead, buried beneath snow and layers of pine needles. But it's okay. Death reminds me of the treasures I have in life, of the people who impact me and bless me. So as I move into the work of this hour, I breathe a prayer of comfort for Chuck's wife Anabel and a prayer of blessing for life. Amen.

Second Chances

I met Ragu at Kertiyasa, the bungalow villa where I stayed for a month in Bali. It is an enchanting place. The lush greenery envelopes the ground and the mating turtle doves' cooing invite love and wonder across the paths.

The steps at Kertiyasa

     Ragu seems to be a manager of sorts, although he works on the lawn, greets customers, helps hack down coconuts and has a plethora of information. There is no hierarchy apparent to my eye, but a cooperation that supersedes roles. Each worker is graceful, happy, tender and eager to assist at every request.
    This particular exchange with Ragu that has lingered and made a mark on my heart, happened early one morning. I noticed from a distance that Ragu was crouched low to the ground and picking up dead flowers that had fallen from the bushes and the trees. Bright yellow and red ones were scattered on the grass. He carried them softly in his hands and began to place them at the inner cracks of the steps where they would not be trampled. He saw us coming and stood quickly to greet us.
"That is beautiful." I said.
 "I give the flowers a second chance," he beamed as he spoke.
  Something inside me awakened and flashing before me were all the dried and wrinkly petunias that I had "dead-headed" as we called it. Daily I would snip the old flowers and pitch them. Yet, here he was making something one might consider useless, or event past its prime - a thing of beauty. Every step was a majestic welcome.

Ragu cutting coconuts for us

  I was struck with wondering just how many times I dismiss people and things as "no longer being useful."  His very action was giving new purpose to the flower. It jolted me a bit as I thought about second chances. Too often when people have wounded me or screwed up, it has been easy to write them off as unnecessary and trouble in my life.  I felt both shame and wonder.
   I like second chances. I am a person who doesn't easily get it right the first time. I think second chances are about forgiveness, but even more so - about raising one to a greater beauty. It's such a slight paradigm shift, but oh so powerful. Too often I judge people's value by what they do or what they have been. I am often blind to the potential of growth, love and possibility when I am stunted by seeing people as they were, not as they can be.
Over and again, my time here in Bali teaches me that beauty is reborn whenever I open my eyes to see it. Thank you Ragu for teaching me about second chances!

Our morning walk

Leaving for Bali - an Unsettled Delight!

It is a beautiful day as we leave for the airport in San Francisco. It's chilly here in the beautiful Sierrra mountains and I guess we shall love it for where it are going promises to be hot and humid.

You might be wondering about the title of my post. It has a dual meaning. The program in which I am participating is called Unsetteld.com. I call it a Delight for I think it is going to be exactly what I was hoping to find in my sabbatical journey. In addition to being refreshed physically, I wanted to have my mind challenged, my spirit embraced and new experiences to help me open to the many ways God is speaking to me and the parish I serve.

So off to Bali we go! It is a spiritual place with so many temples that it is called the "land of the gods." I long to pray and meditate, to find new balance.

Being a pastor is work and a calling I love. The last five years have been an incredible blessing and I thank God for the way the parish and I have grown. But I am ready to be renewed, open to possibilities that will help me live with deeper gratitude and compassion.

Today my prayer was that I would be aware of the love of God in every moment, every encounter and  so far it is just that.

We had lunch at the Yucca restaurant in Standford Shoppng Center. Then a short nap as we prepare to board at 1:15a.m. It will be on to Hong Kong, then to Singapore, then to Bali! Phew! I think I'll need to sleep when I get there!

Already I have met people in the service industry who are kind and accomodating. What a great way to start our journey!

"Gratitude" is The Beginning of Vacation!

Getting Ready for NCNC Annual Gathering!
I always get excited when our larger church family gathers. It means meeting new people, exchanging ideas about worship, praying for one another, being blessed by a meaningful Taizé service, learning new songs and discovering the ways we are connected to one another.

This year the theme is IMPACT. I really can't tell you more than that because I haven't heard what that means. I am excited to hear  David Vasquez-Levy, the keynote speaker, and we will be welcoming Diane Weible, our new conference minister. 

As I reflect on the word "impact" I suspect that we might be thinking about ways our Christian lives affect others and our world. Sometimes I forget that I represent Jesus and my actions catch me up short from time to time. I have often said, that you can tell the most about a Christian by their "reactions" more than their actions. What I mean by this, is that our true colors are most often seen when we are least prepared to have others see us. As a pastor, I am lucky - my clerical collar is a helpful reminder to me that I am God's servant. It helps me behave, you might say. It's a little difficult to fuss at someone when you are dressed as a pastor. However, I am always God's child - striving to serve and love no matter how I am dressed.

Some of you have heard me say that "we put on our Sunday attitudes when we put on our Sunday clothes. We can be fussing at our family one minute and then we step into church and paste a smile on our faces."  In Gold country where we live, often Sunday clothes are the same as what we wear throughout the week. I kinda like that. God sees us exactly as we are and just loves us to pieces! We don't need to pretend but it is good to remember that we have an IMPACT on everyone we meet!

I'm excited to be sharing with you each day the ways this conference will impact me and us! Dancing to annual conference! Pastor Bonnie

Learning to Sit Still While Dancing in My Heart

July 18, 2014 As many of you already know, I have a partial tear in my Achilles tendon. I injured it while dancing at the July 4th celebration in Murphys Park. It is interesting what people say when I tell them how it happened. "At least you were having fun when you did it!" That's the most common comment. And tis true - I was kicking up my heels doing "Strappin Leather" when I felt a pop in my calf. I knew immediately what had happened. All those years working in an orthopedic office let me know all too well what was ahead.

Now reality has set in and I am relegated to a knee buggy, wheelchair and lots of sitting with my leg propped up! Yesterday I was sure there must be another remedy to all the swelling when I put my leg down so I called the doctor's office to check. "Well Bonnie," the nurse said, "this is normal for your injury. You really did a number on yourself. You have to keep the leg propped up!" I was SURE they were going to give me something to make it all easier.
But no, I must endure and let the healing take place in its own time. So how is it that I must sit still when my heart wants to dance?

I have discovered a way! As I write I am at our cabin in  Lakemont Pines and you can see the beautiful lake above. The fantastic joy of all this, is that my heart can still dance! Last night I feasted with the Mission Team of our church on Evelyn's deck and we all regaled at the splendor of life among the big trees and the clean air. I tasted not only delicious food but I savored the laughter and the conversation, the enthusiasm of ideas and decisions about how to love the homeless in our little town. My heart twirled with joy as the team addressed a particular concern and made a positive commitment of money so we can feed the homeless when they show up at our door!

My hands were rapturous with delight when Daryl handed me a cup of coffee in today's early morning as we sat on the deck and read our devotional together. My ears pulsed as I tried to identify the many sounds of birds and wildlife amid the trees. So you see my heart and even most of my body is still dancing - grateful for the moments to sit and reflect, to pray and discern, to read and create!

So won't you be my partner and dance with me? Oh, it may not be the polka, the twist, the waltz or even a line dance, but our hearts can clasp each other in prayer, in care, in sharing and in concern. You are truly in my prayers and thoughts today. I will dance with the Divine as a Holy, Hobbling, Adventure begins! Joy in the Journey, Pastor Bonnie