263. Vision of the Church

There is on line a website called United Methodist Insight. And when I checked it today I found an article and responded to it. Here is what I wrote:

I find myself agreeing with Robert Rynders that the “United Methodist Church needs to slow down and spend more time listening, learning, adapting, and rediscovering our purpose.”

The denominational vision is: Make disciples of Jesus Christ for the transformation of the world. I have felt for some time that when many of us within the church consider this vision, we have a multitude of different interpretations of what those eleven words mean.

And yet, my emphasis has always been on the word “disciples.” I believe that we need first of all to look within the church, that we need to work hard for five years, or ten, or our lifetimes at challenging ourselves to become disciples. That we need to discover what that means for each one of us. That it’s important to consider over and over again how our lives have changed or need to change because we want to be a disciple.

And the task for the local church (and district, conference, jurisdiction, general) is how we support those who are already members in becoming disciples.

It has never for me been about numbers, or opening new churches, or whether we are in decline or pulling out of that decline. It has always been for me about whether I am living my life and making daily decisions to walk in the way, to care about the orphan and the homeless, to make calls to senators and the president about justice issues in this country and beyond.

It has always been for me that I need to consider my finances and whether I give not only to the church but to other organizations who are living up to their stated values. It has always been for me that I want to look at my time and where I can best invest it as a person who wants to follow Jesus. Frankly in those two considerations I have to push myself some days to feel that investment of time and money in the church is the right decision.

If the people within the United Methodist Church right now would slow down enough to actually consider the kind of disciple they want to be, and then if they were to implement those decisions, the world would be transformed now!

262. Thoughts on Hell

These are my personal thoughts on hell:

1. I think Hell is a scare tactic to get people to behave.

2. The God in whom I believe, does not, did not, will not create a place like Hell.

3. It doesn’t exist.

261. Finger-Crocheting

I’m feeling better and it takes a 2007 story plus a 2013 story to explain it.

First 2007: My daughter Donna was on the phone. Her daughter, SadieGrace, age six, was finger crocheting. I said to her, “I’d like to learn to finger crochet.” She said, “I’ll teach you.” She got a piece of yarn and made a knot for me and handed it to me. Then she got a new piece of yarn for herself and made a knot. She started to finger crochet as she said, “You just do it like this.” Her fingers flew. I paid close attention but finally said, “I just can’t figure out how you are doing it.” Sadie said, “I’ll start again. Just watch.” She started all over but still went so fast. I tried again, sighed and said, “I just can’t get it.” SadieGrace shook her head. Donna came in the room saying, “What are you two doing?” I answered, “Well, SadieGrace is trying to teach me to finger crochet, but I’m having a hard time catching on.” Donna said, “Oh, I’ll teach you.” SadieGrace walked out of the room, finger crocheting as she went and saying, “Well, I’m the finger crochet expert, and I couldn’t teach her, so I don’t think you’re going to be able to either.” And Sadie was right.

Now it is 2013 and I just got an email from a friend near Washington, DC, who reported that the Kennedy Center was having a month long project with many free workshops given by persons from the Scandinavian countries, and that one of her friends went to a workshop on knitting. She already knew how to knit but thought she would pick up something knew. She took her knitting supplies and at one point in the workshop, the instructor said, “Those of you who have been knitting throughout our time together, put your knitting down, and I am going to teach you how to finger crochet.” My friend’s friend, who had been knitting for years gave it her best try but couldn’t make it work or figure it out.

I feel so much better.

260. The Water Is There

When my grandson Daniel was three and a half years old, I stood outside a shopping center with him. I was holding his cousin Kyle while their mothers were still in the store. There was a puddle of water and Daniel started to jump in it. I said, “No Daniel, you may not jump in the water.” He quickly and vehemently said, “I can jump in the water. You can’t tell me what to do. Mama tells me.” I said, ‘I can tell you, and if you jump in the water, I will pick you up. (Hard to say how I would have done that, since I was holding Kyle.)

Daniel stood there defiantly and said, “I can walk in the water!” I said, “No—if you walk in the water, I will pick you up.” He continued to stand at the edge of the water, thinking. Finally he said, “I can walk around the water.” And I said, “You sure can—what a good idea. You lead the way around the water, and Kyle and I will follow you.”  And we walked around the water.

I think it’s great how he kept working at alternatives until he finally found something that would work.

259. River-Dither Cat

In 1983 my daughter Debbie took off a semester of college to help me with my Mother’s care which was becoming more intense. She brought her little cat, Jana, with her. We lived in a house a block from the Hudson River. I wrote this song:

—

There was a young cat in a dither,

She lived in a house by the river.

Each morning at five she meowed “sakes alive,

I wish that some food would come hither.”

—

She sat by the closed bedroom door,

And tried to break through every snore.

She hoped that tired bones would get up with groans,

And get her rich cat food galore.

—

Tired bones—Great groans,

Cat by the river says “meow.”

Closed door—Loud snore,

Cat in a dither says “meow.”

—

There was a young cat in a dither,

She lived in a house by the river.

Each morning at five she meowed “sakes alive,

I wish that some food would come hither.”

“Meow!”

—

© Copyright 1983 by Ann Freeman Price

Now the story goes on that Jana did sit outside Debbie’s bedroom door and cry for Debbie to get up and feed her. Debbie didn’t. One morning my door must have been not shut tightly and Jana came in my room. It was a huge room with a desk area, a sitting area, a sleeping area, and a piano and bench.

It was five in the morning. I woke suddenly to the sound of one note being played on the piano—one note once, pause, twice, pause, three times—and I sit up to look at Jana on the piano bench, watching me, and playing one note over and over again. It was too good a trick to not reward, so I got up and fed her.

From that time on, I made sure that my door was shut.

258. Push of Deadlines

Why wait until the last minute to meet a deadline? For instance, the devotional book Alive Now comes out every other month. I submit something for every issue. On their website they give themes for each issue far in advance and they give a deadline. The most recent deadline was March 1st and the theme was peace. I’ve known it for three or four months. On February 27th I got out the sheet of paper to remind myself of the subject, and on March 1st I wrote a poem. Wasn’t really pleased with it, so I wrote another on March 2nd (a day late) and submitted it. They probably will consider it.

I’ve operated that way for a very long time. Not just for Alive Now but for many things that have deadlines. Taxes are another example. I have an appointment this coming Thursday with my accountant. Probably should get started pulling things together pretty soon.

One of the questions I often ask myself is: Would you do a better job if you gave yourself more time???

I can remember what I did with deadlines as a latch-key child of eleven or twelve years of age. My father had already left our household. My mother worked full time. I came home from school (which was across the street), let myself into the apartment, and looked for Mom’s list. She always (as in every day) left me a list of things to do. At the top was usually: do your homework. But then there would be other things—housekeeping type of things that she would like me to do before she got home.

I watched the clock. I read, not necessarily homework reading, but rather my own fun reading. I fixed a snack. I checked the clock. I looked again at the list. I read some more. And when I reached the place where it was almost going to be impossible to do everything that was on the list—THEN I raced and scurried and busily did things and checked them off. When Mom came in the door, I tried to be lounging on the couch with everything done!

Some things you do know where they started don’t you.

257. God Hugs You

Hildegard of Bingen was a visionary, mystic, and writer who lived from 1098 to 1179. Here is something she wrote:

—

Good people,

Most royal greening verdancy.

Rooted in the sun,

You shine with radiant light.

In this circle of earthly existence

You shine so finely,

It surpasses understanding.

God hugs you,

You are encircled by the arms

of the mystery of God.

—

Hildegard of Bingen

—

Isn’t that wonderful? The very concept that God hugs you—and to know that it was written by a woman that long ago, and is appreciated by a woman today. It is powerful:  God hugs you, You are encircled by the arms of the mystery of God.

Thank you Hildegard of Bingen!

256. Food and Ancestors

There are certain foods that speak to me of ancestors—and more particularly my Mother. Chicken salad and sticky buns were the only things I ever ordered at Blocks Tearoom in Indianapolis, Indiana. Mother and I went there often for lunch and I never even had to look at a menu. A year after Mother’s death, my daughter Debbie and I drove to Indianapolis to see the newly placed gravestone. The day we arrived we met two of the women who had worked with Mother at the Indfiana Bell Telephone Company for lunch. They asked, “Where would you like to go?” I quickly said, “To Blocks Tearoom.” Marian said, “Oh Blocks isn’t there any more.” I said, “You mean like it doesn’t exist?” And I felt my anticipation for chicken salad and sticky buns disappearing.

I have very few memories of my Father’s parents but one persists and it involves the preparation of food. Grandma Freeman rolled out the dough for dumplings on her kitchen table. She cut them into squares and it was my job to carefully peel them off the table (and keep a semblance of the square shape) and hand them to her to drop into the boiling broth. The result eventually was chicken and dumplings and no other recipe has matched my memory of the taste.

And then there are oatmeal cookies. It’s the only one of these memories that I still make. It’s Mama’s recipe and even as they bake in the oven, a feeling of Mama rises. Each time I intend to be moderate in my consumption of them. And each time I fail. It is as if I want to fill myself up with the essence of this Mother of mine—her love and her adoration of me, her only child.

Chicken salad and sticky buns, chicken and dumplings, and oatmeal cookies—food passed on by the ancestors.

255. God Mind – Human Mind

I led our church’s Bible Study today and came upon the verse that is helpful to me in explaining God mind – human mind. I have said for a long time that I think there are things that our minds are not capable of wrapping themselves around and that’s because we are human. And being human we need to recognize that God Mind is something else. Just about all I can do is to acknowledge that it exists, and that I can’t understand, and that that’s o.k. Nowhere is it written that I have to understand everything.

So—here are the words from Isaiah 55:8-9: For my thoughts are not your thoughts, nor are your ways my ways, says the Lord. For as the heavens are higher than the earth, so are may ways higher than your ways and my thoughts than your thoughts.

254. Exercise in the Bible

A year or so ago I was writing an article for a religious magazine for older people. The subject of the article was exercise and keeping moving. I included in it some of my experiences with Egoscue and my own exercise daily routine. I was just about to pronounce it finished when I thought—my goodness, I should include some Bible verse since it’s going to a religious magazine.

And so I started the hunt and amazingly with the help of a concordance found this verse from Hebrews.

Therefore lift your drooping hands and strengthen your weak knees, and make straight paths for your feet, so that what is lame may not be put out of joint, but rather be healed. Hebrews 12:12

What a match—and what a good verse to live by.