My first Friday Five

So how about we share five "heavenly" things? These can be serious or funny or a combination of the two.
What is your idea of a heavenly (i.e. wonderful and perfect):
1. My idea of heavenly is spending time with my family and traveling. If we can combine that it's the best. We are going to California this April with my daughter and her husband - heavenly.

2. Song or musical piece: I love all kinds of music and I love to sing. Recently listening to gospel music in the car when we are traveling is the best. We turn it up loud and sing along, even if we don't know the words.

3. Gift: For me, many times little gifts are the best - little things that someone has picked up because they thought of me. Sweet Spirit gave me a little stone penguin as a gift and I just love him.

4. You choose whatever you like-food, pair of shoes, vacation, house, or something else. Just tell us what it is and what a heavenly version of it would be: I guess my home in Maine - going there and feeling comfortable and relaxed (that is a hard place right now - long story)

5. And for a serious moment, or what would you like your entrance into the next life to be like?What, from your vantage point now, would make Heaven "heavenly?": I would like to enter the next life without fear and with anticipation of a knowing that I do not possess now. And being able to experience (however that might be) loved ones who have gone before.

Sheetrock

I haven't been sleeping very well lately. We are having a sun room added onto our home. This is special for us, since we have only been married four years and I moved into Loving H's home, we are slowling making "his" home into "our" home. The workmen come early in the morning and it has been hard getting up early (and dressed) each day. I seem to worry in my sleep that I will not be up and ready - hence, it is interfering with my rest time...

Dan and Nate are our main worker fellows and they coordinate the sub-contractors. Loving H works nights, so when he comes home in the early morning hours he unlocks all the doors so the workers will have access. There is a lock box on our front door knob with our keys locked inside, so if we are not home Dan and Nate can get into the box and unlock our doors. One morning we did unlock the back door, but forgot the front door and the garage door (where they have their tools stored), so as we were lying in bed we heard Dan quietly unlock our door and creep across the floor to get to the garage door.

Yesterday Dan told us the men who were to put up the sheetrock would be coming today. This is an exciting step - getting the inside walls up. I have tried very hard to be up and dressed by the time the men arrive each day - never knowing if they will be there or not. This morning Loving H got home his usual time and I was (for once) dead to the world when the doorbell ding donged, not our regular guys, but the sheetrock guys. Oh my goodness - it was 7:30 and there they were - seeing me with hair standing all on end and me in my fleece jammies. It was a humbling experience, but the walls are looking great.

Climbing mountains

Last night I had a dream. Somehow I knew it was significant, but couldn't quite grasp what it meant. After some reflection I think I have made sense out of it.

A little background. Six years ago my husband left me after 32 years of marriage. It was not a complete shock, as things had been hard for a few years. However, he waited until he had a replacement, before he left - now that was a shocker. I will be blogging more on this, but for now, back to the dream. Oh, a little more background - our daughter, Sweet Spirit, was 27 when this happened.

In the dream I was together with my former husband (we have been divorced four years), but I could not determine if we were really together or just getting along well after the divorce (something that is not happening in real life). Sweet Spirit was there with us and we, all three, were in the mountains together.

The mountains were very rugged and steep, but we seemed to be staying in a place that was friendly and where we had been before. There was a sense that we had had happy times there. Everything was going well when my former husband and I realized that Sweet Spirit was gathering up her things - packing. We couldn't understand why she was doing this. She seemed very eager to get away. We went to her and asked her if she was coming back. She shook her head, "no, I am not coming back". I was so distressed and crying, not knowing why she would go and say she wouldn't be back. The room she was packing up looked so cozy and comfortable with all her things scattered around I couldn't understand. That was when I woke up - feeling very sad.

At first I had trouble making sense of the dream. Sweet Spirit had been away and on her own for many years before our separation and divorce. The mountains had great meaning to us, as a little family (she is an only child and we three had always been very close) we had gone to the biggest mountain in our state every year camping. Those are very special memories.

I started thinking about children of divorce - no matter their age. When their parents split up they are forced into a new direction - whether they like it or not and whether it is a good thing for them or not. I think in my dream I was acknowledging that different/difficult path that Sweet Spirit had to take after her parents were no longer together. And Sweet Spirit was letting me know, in the dream, that she had to do it and we could not go back again. We have a different mountain to climb now.

I am happily remarried and feel so fortunate to have a new life with a wonderful man. But, there will always be a part of me that mourns for our little family and what we had together at our mountain.

Harrie to Fred - Valentine's Day

I received a Valentine from my daughter, Sweet Spirit, yesterday. It was a wonderful "Mom" Valentine and it made me feel loved. On the inside cover she had pasted a very special Valentine poem - from my Mom, Harriet, to my Dad, Fred.

When my Mom died she left all her writings to Sweet Spirit. They had a unique bond that included their love of writing. When Sweet Spirit was a very little girl she would dictate stories to her Gram, which Gram would carefully write down. SS is slowly going through her Gram's writings - it was too hard at first, but now the time seems right.

This is the poem:
Valentine Day 1977 to F.L.N. (my Dad)

Walking through
The winds of change,
Learning, sharing,
As we do,
The glowing sun,
The pounding rain,
Make all our years
Seem so few.

They had five more years together and were married for 45 years. My Dad died in 1982 and Mom in 2004.

Sweet Spirit shared one of Harrie's poems on her blog too - http://AdventuresofMinLib.blogspot.com

Being yourself

Last Sunday our little Reconciling United Methodist group (made up of people from UMCs from all over our city) trundled on over, on a bitterly cold day, to a local Wesleyan University. We went to meet with the Chaplain and two members of a Pride Group. I was worried that not many would show up, but we had a decent showing - mostly older people (older than me and I am 56).

Our goal was to show a presence on the campus as supporters and our hope was we could partner with the college group as community support and information sharing. The Chaplain started the program. She is a bright young woman who shared that the university is trying to get a domestic partner package accepted for staff - seems sad that it hasn't already happened.

She then turned the meeting over to the two women from the Pride Group. They were a bit shy, but opened up as they talked and we asked questions. The first one who spoke told us that she was more comfortable and "out" in high school (she went to a large city high school) than she is at college. She has to be cautious. The other woman said that it is the opposite for her, but that she attended a small high school in a town with many Catholics. Both young women were very open with us, but we could tell it is not easy. The first woman has been through three roommates and doesn't want anyone to feel uncomfortable.

Our questions then turned to church and if they felt comfortable and accepted at church. Only one of them shared much. She said that she goes to a conservative church and that she is not "out" there. She said she wants to respect the people of the church and her parents (who have a hard time with "it" - I am assuming she meant, her being a lesbian). One of our group expressed - "that is so sad, church is the place where you should really feel comfortable being yourself."

I agree with my friend from our group and I know what she meant - but I wonder. How often are we really "who we are" at church. I am a person who speaks out and offers my opinion quite easily, but most times I don't feel really comfortable showing who I really am at church.

I have done it before. I have offered up my doubts and fears and been made to feel that I was somehow "less than" the rest, because I didn't believe as they did or "weak" because I shared that I had faults and flaws... It is a paradox. Part of being a community of faith should be the sharing of weakness and fear and many times it is not well recieved. Individuals in the church sometimes have been open to those emotions and feelings, but as a whole most times the church has trouble with it.

I feel sad that the young woman who spoke cannot be authentic with her church. She seemed fine with it, but I wonder if that is a cover or if how she feels will change. I appreciated their sharing with us and their openness with our group. They knew they were in a safe group and it showed. I am thankful for safe groups like oura, and they are part of the church - part of the whole. I feel blessed for that.

Love, love, love, Harrie

A few weeks ago a friend sent me a letter my Mom, Harriet, had sent her mother-in-law over thirty years ago. My friend was cleaning out her MIL's house (after her death) and found it. It was written when my Mom was 57 and had a broken leg. Mom broke her leg on Palm Sunday night after attending a church service (my Dad was the UMC pastor at a small country church). Hannah, her friend and my friend's MIL, had dropped her off (Dad stayed at church to finish up a few things) and Mom fell when she was running toward home in the dark down a dirt road full of frozen ruts.

Mom was in a cast for about eight weeks and Hannah came over to visit and brought food. I was pregnant with my daughter, Sweet Spirit, at the time. The note Mom sent Hannah was to thank her for being such a good friend. They were friends for over fifty years. Mom died three years ago at the age of 87. She signed off her note to Hannah - love, love, love, Harrie. I miss Mom.

Making Faces

Monday night I went to a meeting at my church of our AWE group (AWE stands for Affirming, Welcoming Everyone). We are a group dedicated to help our church work toward becoming a Reconciling Congregation in the United Methodist Church (a congregation intentionally welcoming of GLBT persons). There are many supportive people in the congregation, but many fearful people too.

Getting together with this group feels very good and safe. We always spend time on business, but also on sharing and support time. I find that is so important and needed - to feel safe, to speak out and share.

As we talked about our situation and what to do next, one person expressed that they thought there were many people who were supportive, but were afraid to speak out, because they were afraid they would lose friends. Another, older woman, said that she couldn't understand that way of thinking - why not agree to disagree. She is a person who speaks out and people do respect her. So, it works for her. She has friends who do not agree, but they are still friends. I do think that many who are afraid would find the same thing this woman has found. Why is there such fear and repression?

I am a person who speaks out. I have spoken out many times on this issue at all-church meetings. I have only been part of this church for four years. In this situation it is easy for me to speak out, because I have little history at this church. When I joined, I got involved with groups/people that had similar feelings as myself. I really don't know many of the people who are "on the other side", so to speak. When I get up and speak I am not looking out over friends of many years (and history) and seeing aghast expressions. I remember one time at Annual Conference in New England I participated in a demonstration where I went down front with a group and did look out over very serious scary expressions, some from people I knew and liked - I didn't enjoy the feeling, but it made me even more determined. At this church, I look out over my little group and then a group of people I don't really know. I guess I can understand those fence sitters....

At the meeting we talked about showing the movie "For the Bible Tells Me So" and plan to do it on March 9th. We are hoping we won't just be "preaching to the choir". How do you get people who probably should see it to do so? It is a question.

At one point during the meeting one young man started to speak of some people who were at one important church meeting (where we were taking a vote on becoming a Reconciling Congregation - it got tabled). He said those couples have middle/high school children and expressed they would leave the church if we became a Reconciling Congregation. He also went on to say that when I got up to speak they all sat there making faces. Whoa, wait a minute - I had a rather visceral reaction. "Oh reeeally!" I said - feeling kind of silly after it popped out. Oops, guess I do care a little what others think, but I know it is not enough to stop me. Then I thought, gee, I don't think I make faces when the "other side" speaks. I hope I didn't/don't.

It is a hard issue. I do think I am on the "right" side - the side of welcoming and inclusion, the side that I believe Jesus is on. And, we need to be careful if we are to have dialogue together. Respect of others is important - taking the high road when it comes to "making faces" and things like that. I have had much worse things thrown at me than someone making a face, but still it did sting....here at my new church.

Go Bless

This weekend Loving H and I went to visit his sister and family at their farm. They live about 80 miles from us. We live in the city and it is nice to ride out into the courntry to their farm.

When I lived in the East I lived in the country - in the woods. I live in the Midwest now and it is very different. I always loved living in the country, but I am finding I do enjoy city life. There is lots going on here in our city and, in a conservative state, it is nice living in a college city where things are more liberal (thank goodness).

Getting out into the country, though, is a nice change. I love going out where one can see for miles. I come from a state where trees are the norm, but I love the wide open spaces and the "big sky". I must have been a pioneer in a former life, because it doesn't seem strange to me. There is just something special about the prairie and the grasses waving in the wind (and many days there is lots of wind). And, there is so much to see - differing shades of colors, different plants and flowers, the birds swooping (so many hawks) and the changing light from one part of the day to another.

My sister-in-law likes to go for drives, so often when we go to visit we set off on a ride somewhere. In the summer we are apt to attend the local festivals in the little towns all around. Every week there seems to be something going on at a neighboring town.

This week we drove to one of the bigger towns to go on a tour of an ethanol plant. When we arrived we realized there was no tour - the tour was taking place at an ethanol plant about 70 miles away (the ad in the local paper hadn't been particularly clear).

On the drive back to the farm we took a couple short detours to drive around two small towns. The first town we explored was the town where a good friend's husband had grown up. My friend had told me the town was very small and declining. When we arrived there was a shabby little sign on a corner lot saying, "Go Bless". It was supposed to say "God Bless", but the D was gone - an example of a town going downhill. This little town has about 230 people living in it now - the railroad is gone and there isn't much there. The main street was sad with no cafe, stores or even a bar (a staple in my state). I don't think there was even a bank (another staple in most tiny towns). When we drove around the little neighborhood I saw a young woman holding a small dog - she smiled and waved. I waved back. Somehow it made me feel even more sad. This little town used to be a bustling, busy place and now... I whispered "God bless" as we drove away.