A Matter of Place

I look at the black and white 8x10 photo of my grandson welcoming his first sibling. He is a toddler – so young – yet he is quiet in the moment, looking at her with such tenderness and love it takes my breath away. 

Wisdom whispers, reminding me that tender moments are rare and precious. Babies and toddlers are not always quiet. I am thankful for the Grands and the photograph.

Stetsonville – Medford – Cornell – Menomonie – Chippewa Falls

Cornell – Holcombe – Chippewa Falls – Eau Claire

Sun Prairie – Ankeny – Eden Prairie – Marshalltown – West Bend

Bloomer – Eau Claire – Oakville – Mehlville – Affton

The photograph has traveled with me to five of the nineteen places called home. The geography of my life spans four states – with return engagements – in the Mississippi River basin.

Wisconsin – Iowa – Minnesota – Missouri

The Mississippi is constant, faithful and changing. The levees and bridges, locks and dams, envisioned by human minds and constructed by human hands imperfectly withstand the forces of nature. Some age gracefully. Others experience catastrophic failure. All require maintenance and repair. Creeks and streams and smaller rivers flow into the Mississippi, and the mighty river flows boldly south toward New Orleans and the inevitable mingling with the sea.

My grandson, born in Minnesota, welcomed his first sister in Wisconsin, his second sister in Missouri, and just days ago a third sister amid pandemic of COVID-19. He holds the baby and smiles for the camera – a moment of tenderness and pride, flanked by femininity, a sister on each side. The generous over-stuffed rocker is filled to capacity. Behind the rocker is a patio door. Sunlight pours in and my eyes are drawn upward from the Grands to the backyard edged by untamed growth. An aging railroad bridge crosses over the Meramec, the water below eagerly flowing toward the Mississippi, flowing toward the sea.

My soul grows quiet, contemplative, prayerful.

In a letter to the exiles the prophet Jeremiah writes: “‘I know the plans I have for you,’ declares the Lord, ‘plans to prosper you and not to harm you, plans to give you hope and a future.’”

Yes, Lord. Yes.

R

Jeremiah 29:11

The River

The river flows onward without clinging to where it has already
been. It does not look back with regret the path it has taken
and carved. It has no fear of the inevitable upcoming boulders.
If it comes upon a DARK hole, it fills it up without dread.
It moves toward something bigger than itself without the worry
of losing its control or losing its identity. It merges with the
vastness elegantly and gracefully, becoming one, contributing
to the larger body all its power and energy.
—Nico, Interruption

Strength: the river has taken and carved

Courage: the river fills dark holes without dread

Beauty: the river merges elegantly and gracefully

In all the words written in the blogs of my Trust 30 friends, this passage is the one I find most compelling. Nico's words quietly inspire me to be more like a river, to flow in life with strength, courage and beauty.

In her words I hear not the rush of rapids, but the quiet power
of deep moving water - a river capable of carving a grand canyon, a river patient enough to embrace life one day at a time.

Strong.

Courageous.

Beautiful.

Life-Giving.

Healing.

Water.

Wherever the river flows, life will flourish—great schools of fish—

because the river is turning the salt sea into fresh water. 

Where the river flows, life abounds.

Ezekiel 47 MSG

Then the Angel showed me Water-of-Life River, crystal bright. 

It flowed from the Throne of God and the Lamb, 

right down the middle of the street. 

The Tree of Life was planted on each side of the River, 

producing twelve kinds of fruit, 

a ripe fruit each month. 

The leaves of the Tree are for healing the nations.

Revelation 22 MSG

Rw

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Abundance

"Seldom do the average buyers of religious literature venture into a soup kitchen, let alone suffer true poverty and uncertainty about whether there will be food today." —Dan Allender,
Sabbath: The Ancient Practices

He goes on to describe middle class destitution as "the emptiness of an uncertain future and ... an unrealized present."

I am not missing meals, yet my emptiness is palpable. I am like a teenager opening the refrigerator door and gazing upon $200 worth of groceries, while muttering there is nothing to eat.
I overlook God's provision in each day, each meal, each breath.

This morning, as I emptied the water from our dehumidifier into the functioning and abandoned toilet in the corner of our basement, I came face to face with abundance. I was reminded of Pastor Peter's teaching on his first Sunday in the States, the disease spread by going into the jungle "to attend nature" when rain will wash the feces down into the pond, the source of drinking water for the village. Mothers sick with cholera. Children dieing.

The blessing clean drinking water is today in Kpeletayama.

We do not go into the jungle to attend nature. There are 3 working toilets within our home, each flushed with drinking water.

We are blessed with abundance.

Rw

"Give, and it will be given to you. A good measure, pressed down, shaken together and running over, will be poured into your lap. For with the measure you use, it will be measured to you.” Luke 6:38

I Want This

While our kids were in elementary school, my husband and I purchased our first old house. Built in the 1920s Destiny House stood on a generous corner lot in a neighborhood filled with vintage houses.

A quick Google search reveals that in the old neighborhood, property owners get ten hours to clear sidewalks… or be charged around $150 for services. Each time it snowed, we shoveled our sidewalks. Early. Really early. Not because the city demanded it, but because shoveling early made shoveling easier.

If we were delayed, the man who owned the adjoining properties would clear his sidewalk north of us, then shut off the ‘blower’ part of his snow blower at our property line. Tilting the machine slightly upward with engine running, he’d travel across the entire expanse of our sidewalks, crushing the snow under his self-propelled tires until he reached the next property line, where he’d dutifully clear his sidewalk west of us – then turn around and travel across our sidewalks, crushing the snow under his self-propelled tires, again. His method-most-convenient made it much more difficult for us.

Today, my husband and I live in another old house, on another corner, in another neighborhood filled with vintage houses. When it snows our neighbor clears his sidewalk, then travels along our western sidewalk – snow blower blowing – on his way to clear the sidewalks of a neighbor on the next block. We start up our snow blower and clear our northern sidewalk – not stopping at the property line but going beyond – snow blower blowing. Helping our neighbors. Trusting our neighbors to help us.

I want this: a world where people help each other.

I want a world where abundance simply flows, where people with a little something extra put $ in a bucket, and those who need a bit of help take $ out. Helping our neighbors. Trusting our neighbors to help us. http://marshill.org/the-white-bucket-project/

I want a world where clean water flows, so that our neighbors whose drinking water looks like this

will celebrate like this

– a world where we dare to embark on a journey of love http://journeytolove-peggy.blogspot.com/2010/07/bittersweet.html




Invent the Future by Cindy Gallop
A man should learn to detect and watch that gleam of light which flashes across his mind from within, more than the lustre of the firmament of bards and sages. Yet he dismisses without notice his thought, because it is his. – Ralph Waldo Emerson My favorite quote of all time is Alan Kay: ‘In order to predict the future, you have to invent it.’ I am all about inventing the future. Decide what you want the future to be and make it happen. Because you can. Write about your future now.