--and two little dogs wanting to go out....
--where we found this
|the watchamacallit bushes adorned|
|the tree at the corner of the house|
I find that mess breathtakingly beautiful --spectacular. Every blade of grass, every tree branch, the chain link fence, even the storm window laced with fronds of frost. It is breaking off the branches above the house and falling on the roof, which causes the dogs to bark and scamper to the door, again and again... --although after the 25th time, I think they finally 'got' it --they would find nothing at the door. So now they just sit, ears erect...
If there were children in the house, I would tell them it was Santa practicing making a run on the roof.
And there was also this in my inbox, posted by a friend on Facebook:
|The Colbert Report||Mon - Thurs 11:30pm / 10:30c|
|The Word - Sisters Are Doing It to Themselves|
She posted it, because half way through the 'commentary' on the screen says, Hey God, it's me, Margaret, and she thought of me, said Colbert must be paying attention!
Well... somehow I doubt that. But the video itself is bitingly funny --of course. Women, you are doing it to yourselves! The same could be said about the poor, you know. Hey, you poor people, if you are miserable, abject and stuck, it's YOUR FAULT.
--and a callous observation would prove it true.... it does appear that many do 'do it to themselves.' You are poor because you drink. You are poor because you didn't pay attention in school. You are poor because you chose to quit your job to attend to your religious ceremony because your boss wouldn't give you time off. You are poor because you are lazy. Being poor is your fault. All. Your. Fault.
Actually, I can see clearly that poverty is like an endless cycle in a computer glitch, that little circle round and round in the middle of the screen and no way out except to reboot --and there are choices made in the cycle of poverty that don't make sense unless you are desperately poor. Yes, being with family and doing ceremony ARE more important than a hard-scrabble go no-where grunt job. One brings joy and life and dignity. The other is supposed to --but in the end, does not.
Frankly --I think our folks that scrub toilets and floors, folks that pick up garbage, folks that harvest our food --folks that do the stuff no one wants to do but we would all be really messed up if they didn't do it, they should get the CEO pay and benefits. Just sayin'.
At prayer this morning (from 1 Corinthians 4)
For who sees anything different in you?
What do you have that you did not receive?
And if you received it, why do you boast as if it were not a gift?
We are fools for the sake of Christ, but you are wise in Christ. We are weak, but you are strong. You are held in honor, but we in disrepute. To the present hour we are hungry and thirsty, we are poorly clothed and beaten and homeless, and we grow weary from the work of our own hands.
When reviled, we bless; when persecuted, we endure; when slandered, we speak kindly. We have become like the rubbish of the world, the dregs of all things, to this very day.
I am not writing this to make you ashamed, but to admonish you....
Hey God, it's me, margaret. Open my eyes to the work before me --help me see as you see --without going blind or crazy or some such other disaster, okay? Thank you for the wonder and spectacular display of the cold on every twig and branch today. Thank you. Thank you for the heart and will of the people I serve. Thank you for the experience of alcoholism/addiction in our family --that I might know the heart break and serve accordingly. Thank you for making us homeless that summer a long time ago --that I might know the endurance and creativity it takes to be homeless, and serve accordingly. Thank you for the poverty we have suffered, the indignity we have known, our own ignorance --that we might know more fully the gifts of the Spirit. God, thank you for brokenness. So, now I will rise, and go and do all those things before me... because of the well of joy I have discovered --a gift, not mine, I know.
And, please keep the P family in your prayers. We will do a comfort service tonight. And please keep the D family in your prayers as they begin the long walk to the graveside to bury their beloved daughter.
(A member of the D family said, we can only cry so hard so long --I mean after all, she was on loan --she didn't belong to us.... Wow... to begin grieving there....)