Wounds Become Tools

     A day in Bergerac, France        Our garden when we got home       La Sagrada Familia, Barcelona

Hello my dear ones, we are home! I did not realize how much coming home would mean to me. I felt unsettled in South Carolina but somehow the closer we were to home the more eager I was to be there.

When we arrived in our home and breathed in its lovely welcome, I felt comforted. I was very eager to chat with my neighbors. The trip was amazing and hard in some ways, so home with all its comforts and beauty was a respite. Having toilets that had an actual seat and total paper that did not feel like a scruff brush on my bottom, are pure delight. Airplane toilets are a category all their own!

I am writing today, though, not to talk so much about our trip but as a response to many of you who wrote to me after my last blog. First let me say that I treasure those comments. It lets me know how we are connecting and if in some small way I have lifted you up then I am happy.

After sharing my story of the guilt and shame I felt after being chastised on our trip, a number of people have written to say that they often feel such injury when being chastised by a spouse, partner, coworker of other family members. They recalled incidences where either family, school or church caused great pain and it readily rises to the surface when they come head on with a similar experience.

I read a book, The Body Keeps Score: Brain, Mind and Body in the Healing of Trauma by Dr. Bessel van der Kolk in which he helps the reader understand how trauma literally reshapes the brain and the body which can lead to hyperarousal, emotional numbing and memory change. It was a great tool in helping me with my own trauma, but I found it especially helpful as a pastor. People often came to me to share their woundedness because I think they knew I would hold it reverently and hear their pain. I am not a counselor, so I often referred people for professional assistance but on many occasions, people just wanted validation that someone heard and understood them and that God is listening and cares. In my opinion it was a weak response to say, “I’ll pray for you,” when what they needed was a co-bearer of tears and sorrow. We are the hands and feet of Jesus, my dear ones! The writings of Mother Teresa remind me of that every day even when I just want to sit and do nothing!!

In addition to one's own personal journey where some pains are truly in our cells, I think our society today has lost its civility. We used to be polite with each other and our rules of etiquette kept ranting and raving in public at bay. Social media has also released a leach of freedom to be unkind because we are not held accountable for what we print. I used to think the saying, “Don’t say anything unless you have something kind to say,” was sort of hokey, but oh my, how I wish we aspired to that today!

Probably the number one question I was asked in my last few years of ministry before I retired was this, “how do I love and treat people when we are on opposite sides of politics? Does Jesus really mean I am to love them as myself?” 

That’s a tough one, but the path I have chosen is to be kind and tender whenever and wherever possible. It does not mean I will lie down and let people walk over me but there are ways to do this in a nonviolent way. There are occasions when people are so angry or adamant that a helpful conversation is impossible. At that point, I say, let’s not talk about politics. I value my relationship with you, and I don’t want to lose it over politics.

Yes, our beliefs are at the core of our beings and affect our political stance, but they don’t have to get in the way of our love for God and others. I do not believe this is an easy path and one that is quickly resolved. It takes tenacity to love deeply and withstand the jaunts of those who seek to lash out.

I am in a homeowner’s association, and we have a Facebook page. Often when someone posts out of frustration there is a barrage of responses and ugly things are printed. I don’t usually comment but when I do I ask myself, how does this comment build relationships? I try to look behind the comment and ask, What does this person fear or what do they want to achieve? What help do they need from us?

 My recent experience in Spain has awakened me to the fact that a lot of chastising can also take place with comments on social media. I often say you can tell if someone loves God more by their reactions than their actions. It’s those times when we are caught off guard, or a comment strikes us harshly and we respond back in retaliation, that show our true souls. Words, when delivered with an angry vehemence, are violent too, you know.

This trip was to be a spiritual journey, and it was certainly that, but not in the way I expected. It wasn’t some glorious revelation of God’s love. The marvelous cathedrals were incredible for sure, but reminded me too often of the violence that took place in Christianity to build them. Religion can do that you know – keep us stuck in the black and white of what we believe so we elevate that belief over love.

Now that I have rambled on about this, what is the good news? The good news is that our bodies know when we are wounded and we need to pay attention to them and be tender with ourselves. The good news is that you and I can heal ourselves, the world, and our communities with kindness and gentleness. We never know if the person with whom we are speaking or corresponding on social media just needs some TLC!

This morning I stopped at McDonald’s to get an iced tea. (a reward after my rough session at the dentist) I usually go through the drive thru but I felt an urge to go inside and take a moment. As I settled into a table an older woman was shuffling around and wiping off tables. She was trying to pick up trash and every time she bent over, she sighed a lot.  “Oh, thank you so much for doing this,”  I said. “You are keeping this place so clean.” She came right over to me. “Oh child,” she said. “You don’t know how much I needed to hear that. My son just told me I am worthless. We had a fight about money, and I know he was angry and didn’t meant it but it still hurts.” She was crying a bit by now.  I took her hand. “I’m so sorry,” I said. “You are certainly not worthless. You are my bright spot today.”

We hugged and she said, “Oh honey, you have no idea what this means to me.” Then she scooted off to clean more tables. I just keep getting blessed don’t I!!!

Just think my friends, if we begin to spread the love, it will change the world, and us! Let our wounds become tools for mercy. Be brave, be healed and let there be JOY in your Journey! Love and hugs, Bonnie Lee

 

Finding redemption

Blessing the rain! 

It has been a long time since I have felt shame. Growing up as a foster child in homes with strict religious rules and churches that laid the guilt on every time we attended, it seemed I was always in trouble. Now I see them as abuse, really, but it was shame back then. 

“You talk too much. Stand up straight. You slouch too much. Work faster. God is not pleased with your slowness. You will amount to nothing if all you do is read.” When I showed my foster parents my grades, they said, “Stop thinking you are so smart. God loves a humble heart.” Even my efforts to be a good student brought shame and guilt. If I asked for a second slice of bread, I was told “You  are selfish. Those who work hard deserve to eat.”

By the grace of God, I found people of mercy in my adulthood. I was welcomed as a blessed human being and encouraged to live with the joy that always seems to bubble within me, in spite of shame and guilt. The God of grace became life-giving for me. The house church I attended, the Lutheran Church where we were members for many years, and the UCC denomination provided a haven of self-acceptance and grace! 

So I was shocked to feel shame on my trip in France and Spain. Yes, I am an American and yes, I do not know all the etiquette, but to be yelled at for the tiniest things has hurt me and the old shame rose up inside me. 

There were three instances that I suppose are resonating because I’m still writing about them as a possible restoration of who I am and affirming myself that I’m a good person. The shaming practices in which our society and religion engage are detrimental to a just and loving world. So you’ve already heard about the first incident. 

I was singing in a cathedral, a practically empty cathedral, and told to be quiet, shush, no singing! But redemption found me in the tears of a young woman in need. You can read about this in a previous blog. 

The second time was trying to find our bus to Gijón from San Sebastián. When we arrived  at the bus station Daryl went inside the terminal and looked at the monitor. He had the number of the bus we were to take. However, when we got in front of the bus with that number, it did not have Gijón on the list of destinations.  A long line was forming. The bus driver was asking people to get in line. I think he was explaining how to load their luggage. I went to him and asked, “Is this the bus going to Gijón? I have a ticket.” He immediately flared at me. “You be quiet! You do not interrupt me! Do not speak until I am done.”

“I’m just trying to find if…” “No, I will let you speak when I am done.” He did all this in a loud angry voice, a few inches from my face. The crowd grew quiet and some shook their heads. I tried not to cry and I stepped back from him. 

All at once he said, “Gijón, luggage for Gijón! We stepped forward and showed him our ticket. “Well, looks like you are the only ones  going to Gijón. Put your luggage there,” he indicated to the back of the luggage area. I didn’t say a word, but did as he said, and got on the bus. I didn’t understand his anger, his need to yell at me in front of everyone, and especially when his very next statement was Gijón. 

All of the shame of doing the wrong thing welled up. Redemption came in Gijón, though, where the little hotel where we stayed was a delight. It included a fabulous Spanish breakfast each day. Two acts of kindness showed me that grace still abounds. Daryl and I were trying to figure out how we were going to get food for the long bus ride to Santiago de Compostela. We had an early bus and it was just a stop at a rickety shelter with no amenities. 

We asked the receptionist if she knew places we could get breakfast and food to take. She had been practicing her English with me each day, and I had been doing the same with my Spanish. “I will prepare a bag for you,” she said. Oh my, you should’ve seen the bag of food! Croissants, chocolate delights, ham, cheese, fruits, and lots of it. We actually feasted on it for several days. The second act of mercy came from two young women coming in at 4 AM from partying. “Can you help us?” we asked. One of them spoke a little English, and my Spanish helped. They used their phones to try and call several taxi companies, but no one answered. We had a long walk to the bus station, and it was pouring rain. “We are sorry,” they said. “It’s OK,” I answered. By now it was close to the time we needed to catch the bus and it was a 25-minute walk in the dark. In the pouring rain, we set out with good spirits! 

Our hearts were grateful that our bodies could do it. One of the good reasons to travel lightly! 

The third incident was when I was trying to buy a hat in Leon. We found a shop where there are hundreds of berets. We went inside and the clerks were busy, so we began to look at them in the glass case. I looked to see if there was a lock on the glass case and there wasn’t, so I started to open it. Immediately the clerk yelled at me. She yelled in Spanish and I had no idea what she was saying. “Lo siento mucho” I said, “I’m very sorry,” but she continued to yell. She yelled for at least three minutes. A male clerk came to help me and he spoke English. I apologized again and he didn’t acknowledge it. But he tried to show me some hats. We could not find a color that matched my raincoat. I did have a bad thought of retaliation as we left that shop. “I’m really glad we didn’t buy a hat from them,” I said to Daryl.  “They don’t deserve it!”

But just around the corner, we found another hat shop. I was a little nervous to go in there, but we went in. “Hola,” said the clerk and greeted us with a big smile. I said hello to her too, and then I asked her if she spoke English. “Yes,” she said, and I told her I was looking for a beret to match my raincoat. Immediately, she got out a bunch of purple hats, and she tried them on my head, adjusting them, and telling me how great I looked. Daryl and I decided to buy one. It was a delightful experience full of redemption. Redemption comes in small acts of grace. Her smile through the whole process was a light in my life at that moment. 

My dear ones, I pray that you feel no shame or guilt today. I long for you and me to remember that mercy abounds, and if we are diligent in offering it to others, we will heal the world. 

Let me add too, that your presence and encouragement in my blogs redeem me a little bit every day. Your friendship sustains me through many an ugly time. Joy in the journey to you! I’m still on the path of mercy and cuddling in God’s grace! Bonnie Lee

A Janitor Tries to Steal My Song

​Daryl and  I are on an extended trip to Spain and France. We are currently in San Sebastián, Spain. San Sebastián is a treasure and as Daryl and I explored the city our delight was often wrapped in awe. Today, however I experienced a most unusual encounter. 

I have to back up a bit. Before our trip to France and Spain, Daryl and I decided together that this trip would be a spiritual pilgrimage for us. We traverse each day looking for the holy adventurous and what might nurture our faith. Right before we left America, I happen to dine at a Chinese restaurant and my fortune cookie said “next week will be a time of deep personal development.”

“Hm,” I thought, “if I get any more developed in life, I’ll be a resilient tree that creaks and cracks, and never dies, but oh well, I”m in for the ride.” Often these fortune cookies are throw aways, rather meaningless, but I took this as a personal sign of something amazing, even unsettling, on my horizon.I was soon to find out just how unsettling growth can be.

There was a magnificent cathedral in San Sebastian that Daryl and I were able to visit. It is the cathedral of the Good Shepherd and is said to have the largest pipe organ in all of Spain. Too bad we couldn’t hear it played, but Daryl did listen to a recording and it was quite amazing. I especially like the images and icons in this Cathedral. It wasn’t quite as gilded and lathered in gold as Church of St. Vincent Martir, but it better suited my image of Jesus as the Shepherd. 

There were only about 10 people in the cathedral at this time and I had this urge to sing. This often happens to me when we sit in an empty church. I feel compelled to praise or lament and singing is a way that I connect with God. I asked Daryl “do you think I could sing here?”  “I don’t know,” he said. “I  wouldn’t do it! 

So I moved to the side aisle. I stood before a statue of Jesus.  It was depicting his crucifixion.  I thought about not singing now because it could be embarrassing, but after all, there were only 10 people there and the song was for God, for Jesus, and for me. The strong urge to sing intensified and I couldn’t help myself. So I got up the courage and began to sing.  Kyrie Eleison, lord have mercy upon us. Christe Eleison, Christ have mercy upon us. I sang it three or four times and it reverberated throughout the cathedral. 

Suddenly a young woman came rushing up to me. She was crying rather intensely. “I thought you were an angel,” she said. “But you are real. You are my angel.”  I must have looked a little stunned so she went on to explain. “My mother died last year and I’ve been trying to reach her, to hear from her. I am so lost. I started praying the Kyrie and all of a sudden I heard the song. I thought God had sent me an angel and I was the only one that could hear it. But I saw people listening to you. You are a real person” she proclaimed. Now she was in full tears, so I put my arms around her. She tried to continue to talk to me. Suddenly, the janitor hurried to us. “No mas canto!” “No more singing!” He said angrily. “No mas canto,” he repeated firmly inches from my face. “Lo Siento Mucho,” I told him. “I’m very sorry.” Then he tried to hush the woman in my arms. He pointed to her and waved his finger in her face. “Sh! Sh! he demanded. We both look startled, and suddenly she left. I looked around and she was gone. 

So many emotions wrestled around my soul that I did not know which one to claim first. Shame, because I wasn’t supposed to sing. A deep sadness, because the song wanted to break out. Regret, that I had apologized to him at all. Confusion, as to what just happened and a profound sense of love for the young woman and Jesus my Shepherd. I couldn’t sort them all out, so I sat down in a back pew and waited for Daryl as my brain tried to put some order to my rattled soul.

Before I left America, I said to my friends, “I’ll try to stay out of trouble,” but here we are on day three and I’m already causing a ruckus. It’s OK, though. I’ve always believed I’m one of God‘s spoons, stirring the spirit and opening up treasures even when it’s painful. 

 A week of deep personal growth my fortune cookie said. Yeah God, I’m definitely in deep waters now. These are the waters of love and mercy, showered on me daily, and I am privileged to share the sprays of it with others. There is mercy and grace in every corner of the world, my dear friends, and we are privileged to see it when we step out of our comfort zone and offer kindness. There are many people, systems and politics in place that want to squelch our song, but we must rise up and continue to sing, for the love of God and others.

So for you, my dear loved ones, this song is for you. Kyrie Eleison, Lord have mercy upon us. Christe Eleison, Christ have mercy upon us. Let this be a song that changes the little corner where you are today and bring you peace. Spread the grace and change the world!  Amen!  Joy in the journey, Bonnie Lee.

Stirring of the Soul in an Airport

​Did you ever think that your life can be changed by two hours in an airport? Now I’m not talking about the kind of change that involves a health crisis or a delayed flight. No I’m talking about a journey of the soul.

On our trip to California this week, we had a 2 1/2 hour layover in Atlanta Georgia. I had marvelous, surprising experiences that nudged me to be hope and love.

 

I will begin by saying that I was hobbling around with a cane because I popped my knee. The orthopedist said it popped back in, but it’s still sore. Airports have a lot of walking distances so I was able to get around pretty well with the cane. Actually, it feels better walking than it does sitting or lying down. 

 

 I did find a little place to sit in the corner next to the windows of the airport. It was crowded, and there were a lot of people around us. Soon a gentleman and his wife came and sat across from us. He was in a wheelchair and smiled at me. I smiled back. My wheelchair was in the corner because the Delta staff had met me as I got off the plane and brought me to the next terminal where I needed to be. His wife sat down with a sigh. It wasn’t long before a couple joined us to my left. He was a rather tall man, and she was a woman who looked about my age. 

 

The man across the aisle in the wheelchair kept smiling at me so I decided to strike up a conversation. “The wheelchair can really help us get around can’t it?” I asked him. “Oh yes,” he said, “I’m doing much better now. I’m in Physical Therapy and it’s helping a lot.” It appeared that he might’ve had a stroke. His hands were a bit uncoordinated and his mouth curved to one side. “Well I’m glad you’re doing so much better and I hope you have continued success.” He went on to tell me the many things he could now achieve.

At that moment, the gentleman to my left stood up and his wife began to place an icy patch on his back. He looked at me and kind of grinned. I said “Oh those things are so great aren’t they.” “Yes,” he said. I’ve got sciatica or something wrong. It’s not fun getting old.” “Well,” as I always say, “it’s better than the alternative.” He went on to tell me that he is trying to learn Cantonese. He said he speaks Mandarin, but he’s trying to learn this language so he can speak with some family members. “My father’s Puerto Rican and my mother is Chinese. So I speak Spanish and I’m trying to learn this language. It is very difficult.” 

“I’m sure it is. I’m trying to brush up on my Spanish and finding that hard enough.” “Keeps the mind fresh though doesn’t it.” He laughed. “Well challenged that’s for sure.” His wife looked at me and said “It’s important these days to be bilingual.” ”I so agree,” I said, “but it’s kind of tough.”

 

The gentleman in the wheelchair across from me, laughed and said “I guess this is the disabled corner.” “Oh yes”, I said “it’s great to have camaraderie.” His wife looked at me and said “I can’t hear  - that’s my disability.” We continued to chat and have a good time. It was as if I had a new family right then, connected by our ailing bodies and openness about it. Who would’ve thought 

That blessings would arise out of our disabilities?

 

A young man came and sat to the other side with three boys. He laughed and looked kind of sad. “Are those boys all yours?” I asked His face lit up. “Oh yes, he said. “I have one more at home.” They looked like they ranged in age from about 9 to 12. They were quite well behaved and I said “That is a lot of parenting.” He said yes it is and then he opened a bottle and took some pills. He kinda seemed embarrassed by it. “Oh man sometimes medicine is a great aid isn’t it?” I asked. He beamed. “Yes, I had a nervous breakdown last year and these help me get through the tough times.”  “I’m so glad,” I offered , “It’s wonderful that you’re here with your boys.” “Yes ma’am, yes Indeed.” I stood up to go take some paper to the trash can and he jumped up to walk  beside me. “Oh let me get that for you.” At first I started to reject and then I said “OK thank you.” He looked me right in the eyes and said “Thank you so much for letting me set a good example for my boys.”  As I went to the restroom I thought. Who would’ve known that medication and trash would put a bond between a young man and myself? I felt deep compassion for him. 

 

As I began to walk toward the bathroom, very slowly, I passed a custodian with his cart. He had his arms propped up on it and looked exhausted. “Hello, how are you doing today,”  just the usual greeting in the south. “Well, not very good ma’am not very good at all.” Now I wasn’t going to just walk away from a comment like that so I said, “what is going on? I’m so sorry for you.” “I’ve got high blood pressure and I feel terrible. I’m exhausted. I didn’t sleep last night and I’ve been here all day. I haven’t had any lunch.” “That’s terrible,” I empathized. “Will you be able to get some lunch?” “I don’t know. You get a 30 minute lunch but you wait so long in these lines there is no time.  There is no employee cafeteria and a measly 4% discount.” “Oh that”s dreadful, would you like me to try to get you something.” “No, I’ll have a friend try.” “Are you able to do something about the high blood pressures?   Perhaps see a doctor or take some medication?” “Well they’re trying but it’s not working.” He leaned heavily on his cart. “Oh sir I am so sorry. Please know that I will keep you in my prayers and sincerely hope that you’re gonna feel better today.” “You know, ma’am, that is the nicest thing anybody has said to me today. Blessings to you!” “Many blessings for you,” I exclaimed.

 

Who would’ve known that I would be called upon to offer a healing word in the airport?

Oh God was not done with me yet. Seems I needed a lot of stirring of my soul!

I went to the bathroom, which was incredibly clean and came to the sink. There was a young woman with her rag cleaning and drying things. “Oh thank you so much.  This place is really clean and I appreciate it.” “You’re the only person to tell me that today,” she said. I stopped and looked carefully at her. She was probably in her early twenties and pregnant. “I’m sorry about that. I bet it gets pretty lonely being in here all day all by yourself.” “Yeah,” she answered, “but I gotta do it. It pays the bills.” “ I’m sure it does, and I appreciate this important work you do!” Her face brightened and she smiled. “Well, thank you ma’am.” Right away I noticed other people who had been in the restroom saying thank you to her.  Who knew that in a bathroom I would be challenged to bring light to someone’s hard work?

 

In the space of an hour, I was stirred to compassion, understanding, gratefulness, healing. These are all things that bless me over and over. I’m someone who gets to be the recipient of love and mercy every day. I’m part of a family, community of faith and friends worldwide that support and love me, no matter what. Not everyone has that. In just a small matter of time, in a busy airport, my life was changed. I became even more aware that every move, everything we speak, every smile we give, makes the world a better place for someone else. 

 

My soul was softened a whole lot more that day. I can get very skeptical about this sad world with all the angry violence going on. For those moments, I saw Hope. My dear ones, let us be hope for others. Let us not be overcome with the shenanigans of the world and forget to offer love and compassion. You may be the only soul hug someone gets! Thank you for blessing me and may your life be changed wherever you are! Still looking for hope in the airport! Bonnie Lee.

A turtle and Ants in My Pants!

 

Well, you would think by now I know how to make great lemonade! Well, actually, I do make a mean lemonade from fresh lemons, and I make a syrup and let it cool. That’s not the kind of lemonade I’m talking about.

I’m talking about the kind of lemons you get when Life Throws You Wrenches. As most of you know, I’m a planner and I like to plan events, and I like when a plan goes well. Makes me happy as a mother bird on a nest.

This week, however, we got lots of lemons. Daryl and I decided to go camping in our RV, aptly named Tranquility! You will see the irony of that soon! We had not used the RV since we drove it across country when we moved here. It took a lot of work to get ready. Daryl partially remodeled the bathroom and had to put in a new microwave. Of course, I had to clean everything from top to bottom as it had been sitting for a while. The mice had decided to make a mess with the toilet paper. That was interesting. If they would have only used the toilet I might have been happy!

 We set off for Lake Murray and Dreher Island State Park. Our site was located right on the water, and it was magnificent. Some of the highlights: I got to eat s’mores and hotdogs. That was a real thrill! We swam in the lake, which was fabulous. We sat by the fire and watched enchanting sunsets.

One of the most exciting things was the chorus of frogs. Daryl and I listened to these frogs and of course he analyzed it musically, but I laughed so hard. One frog would start and then others would join in, and it had a rhythm and a pitch. Daryl recorded it. I tried to get information about singing frogs. There are many kinds, but I thought they must be either the Southern Chorus Frog or the Upland Chorus Frog. I listened to their songs on my phone, but it didn’t sound like what we heard. Now I was really intrigued. It was great at first, but after an hour and a half of it, we were wishing that they would go sing somewhere else. I still had to laugh about it. They kept repeating the same rhythm at the same pitch. It was about three or four different notes. I’m going to do more research about them.

 And then there were the birds! Birds with vibrant colors; cardinals, finches, robins, mockingbirds, egrets, geese, ducks, and doves. Our site had thistles growing by the water’s edge and they loved it. I took some pictures as you will see above. One little cardinal came and visited us every day. She sat on our table and on our chair. Daryl said she chose us. We are blessed. I agree wholeheartedly.

But let me get back to the lemons. First, when we arrived, we hooked the RV up to the water and the electric and of course, there was a leak. “Oh my goodness not again,” I said. We turned the water off and tried to investigate where the water was causing all the mess on the floor. We discovered that it was behind a panel on the outside of the shower. We opened it and seemed like it would be an easy fix. However, we could hardly reach it, and we didn’t have the equipment or the parts. We could not use the water in the RV, so we had to haul our water to the table, wash our dishes there, take showers and use the restroom in the shower house. Fortunately for us, the shower house was right across from our RV. I have to say I have never seen a State Park restroom so clean. It was impeccable. I was quite happy.

 We got lucky though as Thursday morning we noticed that there was an RV mobile repair man a couple sites down from us working on somebody else’s mobile home. Daryl walked over and asked if he could come check a leak for us. He said, “sure.”

 Imagine our delight when he was able to fix the leak and replace the leaky valve. We thought now we can use the water in the RV and I can wash dishes at the sink instead of having to carry water to the table. Oh no, it was not to be! I turned on the water at the sink and immediately heard water running where it was not supposed to be. I looked underneath the sink and there was a big puddle. We discovered that one of the pipes had come loose. We couldn’t find out how to fix it, and we didn’t have the tools. OK back to carrying water.

 Then there was the fishing. Everyone told us what a great place Lake Murray was for fishing. They even hold fishing tournaments there. We brought our fishing poles, our bait, tacklebox, good bait, and my trusty lucky worm. Talk about lemons, here we go again. All I got was a turtle and ants in my pants. I was so afraid of getting a turtle because they were swimming all around; even near us when we were in the water ourselves. Of course, my first cast in, a turtle had to attach itself to my hook! Ugh! Lucky though, he only got the hook in his foot a little bit and I was able to hold him and pull it out carefully. I had a little chat with him. I told him that he should not go to places where people are fishing. If he hears a fishing pole or sees the bobber, he should go far away. He listened and we had no more incidents, but there was no success in fishing. The ants, well I will not go into details here! A couple in the RV next to us caught lots of fish and told Daryl where to fish. He was excited. He got his things together and went to the place they had described. He was there 15 minutes and a terrible thunderstorm came up. He came home, soaking wet. 

 So of course, my mind got to thinking about all this. One can choose to be grumpy, fuss at all the mishaps, or just laugh. That is mostly what I did. I just laughed. I thought about it, leaks, turtles and ants in my pants! Can it get more exciting?

 So, by now we have a bathtub full of lemonade, but oh no, of course there is more. Our last day as we were packing up and I was walking gingerly from the restroom (because I had an aching knee) and suddenly it popped. Okay now, lemonade does not taste good at all. As a matter of fact, I am sick of it!

 The pain was excruciating and we immediately put ice on it. I have past experience in orthopedics so I am pretty sure I tore my medial collateral ligament. I already have an appointment to see the orthopedist on Tuesday but this is bad! Unfortunately, I had to drive the RV home because Daryl and I brought two vehicles. We were being cautious since this was our first time taking the RV in a while.

 I took Tylenol, wrapped it and said to Daryl, let’s go. I will go to Ortho urgent care when we get home. That was not to be because they were not open on Juneteenth. We arrived home and fortunately we had a walker and Daryl dug it out. I hobbled to the bed and stayed there, foot propped higher than my heart, wrapped and ice!

 You know what? When I open my eyes to possibilities, God provides great opportunities for insights, joys and sharing escapades with my loved ones. I’m telling you all about it now and oh how cathartic this is! Thank you for your presence!

 We can all be fretful about issues in our lives. We’re not happy with the way things are in the world. War, a wretched economy, poverty is rampant and it touches many of us. My grocery bill was so astronomical last week, I think I could’ve made a car payment with that amount! Daryl reminds me as he prays at our meal that we have food on the table and money to buy groceries. “Let us be grateful and always share,” he prays.  We are happy to help others who don’t have enough food or money to pay their bills. It’s a small difference we can make to others where it salvages their lives in a small way.

 I’ll admit there were moments of discouragement but that only lasted about 15 minutes. I do not enjoy the energy of complaining about life. So, I’m choosing to raise the roof on happiness. It’s especially hilarious when you have to rustle the toilet when you can’t bend your knee! I haven’t fallen off yet!

 That’s it for the successful camping trip! I hope you’re laughing with me as you read this. I pray that your days will be full of sunshine and maybe lots of lemonade, but only the good stuff! Love and hugs to you all, Bonnie Lee. Joy in the Journey

 

 

A Gate with no Fence!

 

Sometimes in life, something pops up which startles you, or causes you to be curious. I have been driving by a gate for weeks now and I finally decided to stop and take a photo.

It is quite strange. It is a beautiful fence, recently crafted with lovely lights posted on the top. The wood seems to be carefully chosen, and the hinges are gorgeous, standing out in beautiful black. The odd thing about it, there is no fence. There’s a gate with no fence! Imagine that, and besides, the gate is open most of the time.

I came home and said, “Daryl you’re not gonna believe this, but there’s a house that has a gate with no fence. It’s magnificent. I have no idea why they put it there but what a great symbol for our lives. A gate with no fence. A gate that is open. It seems like a marvelous invitation to come in and see the treasures that await beyond its openness.”

Being practical, as my sweetheart Daryl is, he said to me, “Bonnie Lee, they don’t need a fence. All around the front of the property is a deep culvert. A car could never get over it without severe damage.” “You’ve got to be kidding me,” I said. Here I thought it was this welcome invitation. Instead, it’s just a way to keep people out when it’s closed. “Well yes,” he said “that is probably true.” 

 I stopped the other day and took a photo of it because I couldn’t get it off my mind. Imagine my surprise when the house was for sale. At the end of the gate is a magnificent structure, a gorgeous house waiting to be filled with love and laughter.

 As I looked a little closer, I noticed that there was a sign posted right next to the open gate. If you look closely in the photo, or enlarge it, you can see it. It says ‘guard dogs on property. They will attack. Notify owner before entry.’ No way! Unbelievable! Who would put such a sign beside this lovely gate? I was astounded, but then I remembered that the house was for sale and maybe they just didn’t want people wandering around the property without an appointment.

But soon I began to think about my own life. The gate seemed like it was a symbol. I consider myself open, loving, welcoming, and my effort is for people to find a refuge with me, a place to call home. I like when people confide in me and find solace when we are together. I do have a reputation for complete strangers to tell me intricate details of their lives.

 But then that open gate with a deep culvert and the sign caused me to stop and think more deeply about my openness. Sometimes we say we’re open, but when a friend doesn’t agree with our political view, it’s almost as if we put our hands up and say ‘stop it I don’t want to hear it.’ What about the relative who we label as a tin hat, or conservative, liberal, or other such names that I can’t even write here. I’m not going to their picnic, we say, it’s just too hard. We don’t think alike and I can’t listen to their shenanigans.

 What about the person who plays very loud music in their backyard when I’m trying to have my quiet time? I stomp around and say ‘don’t they have any sense?’ Of course, I keep it to myself but my thoughts are so ugly. This morning Mother Theresa reminded me in my devotional that Christ lives in us and through us. Oh dear, I’m not a very good example of that when I have such thoughts am I? So, the gate has become a reminder to be more open, to take the sign of guard dogs away. (Possibly not even have guard dogs, but then again I live in a place of safety) Yes, my soul needs protecting sometimes from the meanness of the world, don’t get me wrong, but so often I shut the gate with a snap before I look deeply into the person’s eyes and hear the wounds of their souls. God forgive me. I was a pastor for many years, and I think about the ways we claim to be an open and welcoming congregation, but on Sunday mornings, do we talk to the newcomer? Well, a lot of the times we just chat with the people we already know. "It's the pastor's job to welcome visitors," we say. If someone’s theology doesn't quite align with our sensibilities, we make comments, ‘perhaps they’re not suited to us.’ That’s like having the guard dog sign there. God help us.

When I spend time meditating before Saint Francis in my garden each day, I’m reminded to love everyone to love all creatures, yes, even the spiders too, which scare the wits out of me; that’s a really hard one. I have a friend who loves spiders. I never quite understood it, but you know what, her spirit is like that too. I don’t know a person that she doesn’t love. Her invitations to parties and gatherings are always open.

So maybe the gate is there to give me a lesson in God's good welcome. May it be so for you today. Sending you my love with all my foibles, Bonnie Lee.

 

Life is Full of Surprises!

Hey, it’s me! I’m back. Well I didn’t really go anywhere, but many of you have been asking when I’m going to Blog again. I don’t know I got stuck I guess.  (This is going to be longer than one trip to the toilet!)

Retirement, well, I don’t know what it is. It’s way better than I expected, but not all what I thought it would be. First of all, I absolutely love my early mornings on the patio, reveling in the garden. It’s comforting, peaceful, majestic, and the result of much hard labor. It reminds me that God is present in all things. On the other hand, I don’t know why I can’t sleep in. It doesn’t matter because I can take a nap if I want to. Well most days I can take a nap, when I’m not running between doctor appointments. 

 

That has been the other surprise during retirement. I thought that I would be free of doctor appointments; that my body would somehow magically rejuvenate from all the rest and less stress that you often face when you work. Ha! Well that didn’t happen. Less stress, for sure, if you don’t consider that our son lost his house to a fire, or our daughter with a chronic illness has faced some critical issues, or that our political situation frightens me on any given day. But I’m full of Hope!

 

No, I’m not a Pollyanna, but you can go ahead and call me that if you like. I’m more like a Dolly Parton kind of girl without the boobs and the money! Life is just a lot more interesting, peaceful, and invigorating when I look at it through the eyes of gratefulness.

 

Yesterday was the most incredible day. It was not at all what we expected. We took our truck to get serviced. The guy told us to show up at 9 AM which we did. He said it would be a couple hours so we went for breakfast. We found this little diner called Eggs Up Grill. Everything was tasty and the atmosphere so delightful. We still hadn’t received a call from the mechanic so we decided to pick up a few groceries. As you probably know by now, a few groceries usually turns into a cart full. But I got some fresh kale so that counts for something right?

 

We headed back to the auto shop. The car still wasn’t ready and the gentleman said it would probably be about an hour so we decided to take a nap in the car. I couldn’t nap so I started walking around. We went back in and he said well it’s actually gonna be longer.  By now it’s noon and so we headed for lunch. 

 

Now I have a strange craving for cheesesteaks. Since moving to South Carolina, I have not found any place that  makes good cheese steaks and of course not Philly cheesesteaks. But Daryl happened to find one online that was called Cheesesteak University close to Coastal Carolina University so we thought we’d try it out.

 

Oh my, we went there and was I ever excited! Daryl and I shared a half of an original cheesesteak and it was phenomenal. I saw people eating soft ice cream and I said to Daryl "they have ice cream here as well." So I went over to the counter and said to the gentleman, "I would like to buy some ice cream." "Oh ma’am,"he said, "our ice cream is complementary. You just help yourself." You have got to be kidding me! Cheesesteak sandwiches and free ice cream! I have just now found my favorite place to eat! What fun!

 

So you see all that waiting turned out to be a great benefit. We headed back to the auto shop and it still wasn’t ready so Daryl and I sat together in the waiting room and basically looked lovingly at one another. It’s OK to take that kind of time you know. Remembering the love and making googly eyes at each other! 

 

The truck was finally ready, and the gentleman told us that our truck is an excellent shape and that we are taking good care of it. OK, I already knew that since I’m the one who checks the oil most of the time and looks under the hood to inspect it. I have no idea what I am inspecting but it seems like a good idea in case anything has made a home under there! 

 

Next, our stop was to the DMV of South Carolina in Conway. Now I have to tell you, DMV offices get a bad rap. This place was run like an Amazon plant and filled with kind people. We went in and asked the first lady how she was doing. She kind of laughs and says, "oh just peachy." I said, "well that’s a good answer, but I don’t think that’s really what’s happening." She said "let’s just say peachy shall we?" And kept a smile on her face. It’s so happen that when they had issued Daryl his South Carolina license they had not put his motorcycle designation on it. We were so happy to find out that he did not have to take the test again, but they would reissue him a new license for free! We took a number and sat down. 

 

It wasn’t very long before they called our number and he had his photo taken and we were out of there. People were so nice and they were working so fast, but it didn’t feel like you were being rushed through. Now, how did they get like that? I don’t know. Maybe it’s all those miniature glass figurines on top of their computer monitors that cheer them up and make them smile, but their attitudes are beautiful! 

 

Now you might think that that was enough for one day and I could go home and take a nap but I couldn’t sleep so I made a new kind of dinner with a new recipe. All I can tell you is, it didn’t work. Ever since I retired I thought that I would become this really fantastic cook and I would do new recipes and we would just have great food. Well, it’s unfortunate but not one single recipe that I have tried has really been delicious. Daryl is so kind and just eats it and says oh that was OK. But this definitely was not OK. Yeah, I’m gonna put everything in the crockpot tomorrow with Sweet Baby Ray's barbecue sauce, and I’ll tell you it is gonna be good!

But what happened after dinner was probably the most rewarding part of our day. We went out to water the lawn, because we’ve got new grass that was just seeded and that’s when the people start walking. A young mother and her son introduced themselves. She stayed and talked and talked, and I just loved it. Then a couple came over and said to Daryl, "we’d like to talk to Bonnie Lee." So Daryl had me stop my watering and go call them and they came over and went inside. They had never been inside our home and even though we were polite with each other previously,  we did not really know them. It was a beautiful meeting. They shared a concern with which they thought I might be able to help. 

 

Next, I had written a message to someone in our community that I’d like to talk to them personally over some situations that were happening in our community. They said yes they would be there in half an hour.  Oh my, was that ever the crowning glory of my day. A man, his wife and their baby

came and stayed two hours. It was a great delight. We shared our garden with them. We sat in the house and they looked at all the paintings and the art on the wall.  We shared our struggles of living in the community and our great joys of being here. They were intrigued by the organ and their young son was wideyeded as Daryl played the Native American flutes and he loved the loudness of the organ! We found kindred spirits. Once they left, I said to Daryl, "my cup is full and running over." That wasn’t to be the end of the day!

 

Our very dear friends from California called and we chatted with them and then just as I was getting ready for bed my sister called me. She kind of forgot what time it is cause she’s retired but I absolutely love talking to her. She is so funny and so witty and just makes the best out of life. So I sat in my recliner and chatted with her a bit. And finally with a contented heart and a weary body, I snuggled down to the best man in the whole wide world. 

 

So there you have it, my dear friends, nothing very inspiring, no great truths, no insights to give you; just to tell you I love you dearly, Bonnie Lee