The Feast Of Saint Francis

Today is the feast day of St. Francis, the day that he met, with joy, Sister Bodily Death. As I sit reflecting on this day, I find myself thinking about Francis' last words. As he lay dying, Francis wrote the beautiful Canticle of The Sun. These words, in my mind, have remained unmatched over time in terms of how they convey the awe that Francis had for God's work. He died having given thanks and praise to God for all of God's amazing creation. I find myself wondering what he might have said to those of us left on earth, back then and today. The following poem is the result of my meditation on this question.


What Now, Francis?

Waste not
your tears on me;
on what was
or could have been,
maybe should have been.
Save your weeping
for those who live -
the hungry, the thirsty, the cold,
the sick, the beaten, the longing
For those who still have breath.

Turn all your tears to hope,
To fuel God’s work,
the death of injustice, pain, and suffering,
With joy.

Cry not for me;
I have eternal life in Christ.
Weep only,
as I do,
For God’s hurting people on earth.


KME 10/4/07

Hurry Up And . . .

On a trip south on I-35 this weekend we passed the church pictured below.
The big banner advertising a 30 minute worship service caught my attention because my own church is doing all they can to shorten the service supposedly to make more time for Christian Education. I am all for education, but in the case of my church, readings from the Scriptures are being omitted. Go figure . . .

Because various members of our clergy and I have exchanged emails about my unhappiness with our present service format, I could not help but send each of them this picture with a note that read, "Perhaps they will share their tips." I have not had a response from any of the priests. Perhaps they fail to see any humor in the above picture.

On a serious note, why are we in a such a hurry? I have always been under the impression that we have fast food, one hour glasses, drive-thru banking, etc. to simplify the mundane tasks of life thus freeing up time for the more important things - like church. I am having a hard time figuring out what we are supposed to be doing with all of our time. What is so important that we need a 30 minute worship service?

There are Sundays when sleep seems more important to me than going to church, but there a very few times that I actually give in and stay in bed. If I am going to get up and go then I want to attend a full service. It is hardly worth getting up and dressed for 30 minutes. I could just turn on one of those televangelists if that is all I need.

Maybe I am just sensitive to issues of time - because I never seem to have enough of it. I can think of ways to manage my days a little better, but reducing Sunday worship to 30 minutes is not one of them. Central Market for a cup of soup rather than cooking it and doing dishes afterwards - that's a possibility.

A Study In Contrasts

Erin has had a terrible cold this week. Last night when she went to bed, she said that she would probably not go to school today, but she would decide for sure in the morning. I set the alarm for my typical 6:15. As expected, she did not feel well enough to go to school. She rolled over and went back to sleep. In fact, we could all go back to bed for an extra hour or so. The dogs wanted to go outside first. Because I did not have to immediately begin the morning routine, I had a few minutes to walk outside with the dogs and enjoy the morning sky. I was so taken by what I saw that I went for my camera.

The following pictures were taken standing in exactly the same spot on my front porch - first facing west and then making a 180 degree turn to face east.

To the west, a bright full moon still lit the morning sky while to the east the first light of the sun was beginning to emerge.

Regardless of the direction, the way the clouds reflected the light was awesome.

At this moment, I had the option of following the sun and rising to meet the new day or, setting like the moon. I have always been one who prefers to live in the reflected light of others rather than in light that I create. I chose to follow the moon and set myself back in bed for an extra hour and a half. It felt good!

Today Is Not My Birthday

Today is September 26th. It is not my birthday, anniversary, or anything. According to my calendar, it is just an ordinary day - nothing special. Wait! My calendar must have lied to me; today was a special day!

A friend sent an email saying that he wanted to meet with BK and me because he had something for us. Hmm . . .I wonder what it could be? Usually when someone wants to see me it is because they have a job for me to do. I realize this sounds a bit on the pessimistic side, but it is the truth. Under normal circumstances, I would have been more skeptical, but the person who wanted to see us is not someone I would expect to have an ulterior motive.

We agreed to meet at church tonight before choir rehearsal. We all pulled in to the parking lot about the same time. After a brief "hello", he pulled something from his pocket and said, "I made these for you." BK and I were each given a beautiful Anglican rosary that our friend had made for us. Hers is made with primarily green beads, her favorite color, and mine is blue, my personal favorite.

Though the bead color and the crosses are different on each of our rosaries, they have the same cruciform beads; though it is difficult to see in this mediocre picture, they are hearts. The use of the hearts on both sets of beads is meaningful to both of us. Ten years ago when we BK and I wrote our book on the Anglican rosary, it was truly a labor of love. That writing project was our first together, and the impetus for many that have come since.

The forethought, as well as the time and patience, that went in to the making of these beads touches me deeply. In these attributes, I am reminded fondly of our early work with the rosary.

I don't think that before tonight I even owned an Anglican rosary any more. I have had several over the years, but I always seem to give them away to someone who wants or needs the one I have. Because I haven't had a rosary, I have not been participating in this prayer practice recently. - a practice that was a big part of my daily discipline a few years ago. Being given this gift offers me the opportunity to make praying with the rosary a regular part of my prayer practice. As I sit here holding my new rosary, I am grateful for all that the rosary has meant to me in the past and I am thankful for all that this rosary holds (no pun intended).

Most of us expect gifts on our birthdays, or Christmas, or an anniversary. Often these gifts are chosen from a list that we have prepared personally and passed on to those who are buying the gifts. Though this kind of gift giving usually results in us receiving exactly what we want, it lacks any element of surprise or creativity on the part of the giver. Receiving these beads today, a day that was not particularly special when I got up this morning, made September 26th an extraordinary day. To be given an unexpected gift just because someone was thinking of me is the best kind of present.

I am having a hard time putting all of this into coherent words. Maybe all I should say is:

Thank you, Weber

The Value Of Time

Erin is in the midst of rehearsals for Best Little Whorehouse In Texas. Rather than spending the evening taking her to rehearsal, going home, and driving back to get her, BK and I have been making the rounds of the local coffee shops. Surprisingly, there are quite a few in Denton. We figure that the time we would spend traversing the country roads is better used for knitting or reading and drinking coffee.

Tonight we went to Starbucks. I am not a big supporter of the monster chains, but we have spent so many nights at the local shop around the corner from the theater that I think the staff there is probably convinced that we are homeless. Tonight I finished reading the script for Draculai, for which I am the prop mistress, and knit on a pair of socks. BK was also working on socks. Our two socks caught the attention of a young college student. She told us how she loves socks and how she thought the ones we were making were "so cool". She then asked if we ever sold them. BK and I looked at each and said in unison, "No." The girl looked a little surprised. She said that she bet we could sell lots of pairs.

I am sure that based on appeal, we probably could sell lots. The reality, however, is that not many people can afford to buy hand knit socks for what they are really worth. Good sock yarn is at least $15 for a pair of socks. It takes me about eight hours to complete a pair of basic socks. Even at $5 an hour, that makes the cost of the socks a minimum of $55, and that is with no "profit". Who would pay that? Nobody. The girl at Starbucks was actually respectful of the fact that the socks were hand made. She did realize that there was value in the time it takes to make them. She parted by saying, "If I ever become rich, I will pay you to make my socks."

This incident has made me think about time and the value we place on it. We all measure time by the same 60 second minute, 60 minute hour, 24 hour day. Why is it that some people's time is worth more than others? Not long ago I paid an electrician $200 an hour to fix a short in an electrical outlet. I paid the refrigerator repairman $80 an hour to fix our ice maker. It costs $60 dollars for five minutes with a doctor. And most of the people who facilitate our daily lives make minimum wage. Where would we be without the grocery store clerks, the servers in our favorite restaurants, daycare workers, . . .Why is it that we are willing to pay our manicurist more per hour for her time than we are the person who cares for our child? There is something fundamentally wrong here.

I realize that most people can not afford a $55 pair of socks, but does that mean that my time is not worth $55? The funny thing about the whole sock issue is that with 2-3 hours I could probably teach the girl to make her own socks. At $20 an hour, the cost of an average knitting lesson,, she could make an endless number of socks for the same price I would charge to make her one pair. So, my time to make the sock is not worth as much as my time to teach her to make the sock herself. How does this make sense? My time is my time. Does this mean I am worth more as a teacher than I am a knitter? Realistically speaking, if I make the socks myself then I know that she would have at least one finished pair of socks. Even if I spend several hours with this girl, there is no guarantee that she will even finish a pair of socks herself. So the money paid to me to teach her to knit could potentially be a waste whereas the money spent to have the socks made at least has a tangible outcome.

Maybe the solution here is to not let others place the value on our time. Perhaps the value of our time must be measured in something other than dollars. I find myself often saying, "That is not worth my time." As I think about the occasions where i have said this, what I am really saying is that my time is valuable to me and I don't gain any pleasure in doing that so I am not going to do it )whatever "it" is.)."

As I sat tonight contemplating the bizarre props necessary for the DCT production of Dracula, it became quite clear that I am going to dedicate much time to the process of gathering and making props - time that is not compensated monetarily, i.e. it is all volunteer. Why am I willing to give this time away but not give away the time to make socks? Maybe I should have offered to make her some socks for free. But, I didn't. I guess I am willing to give all the time to the theater because working props can be fun, challenging, and creative. Wait, so too can making socks. Hmmm . . .Really, no accurate dollar value can be placed on these things. How much does personal satisfaction or joy or fun or creativity cost per hour? Also, how much would you charge someone to make a realistic looking live rat that, when bitten into on stage, spurts real looking blood? Or, a crucifix that spontaneously bursts into flames? Like they say in the credit card commercial . . .these things are priceless!

Thanks for reading this. I know that your time is valuable!

Tell Me About Yourself

As a teacher, I feel that it is important to do all that I can to really know my students. I can get their vital statistics from school records, but that is not the information that helps me to build a relationship that fosters maximum teaching and learning. English teachers have it easy. They can assign all of those "What I did On My Summer Vacation" essays that allow them to learn about their students (I do realize that often English teachers learn more than the really want to know!). If you don't teach English, and therefore don't assign weekly essays, it is hard to get to know the real student. I have attempted to circumvent this problem by having one question on each of my semester tests that gives the students an opportunity to tell me something about themselves.

Our first test of the semester was last week. "The 'Last Question", as they are affectionately called, was this:

You have been sent to the proverbial desert island. You are permitted to take one kind of food, one book, and one CD. What would you take, and why.

Here are my students' answers.
Food

• apples - they are healthy and hopefully, because they have seeds, I could grow a continuous food supply
• soybeans - they are healthy and I could mix them with plants and fruits on the island for some variety
• chicken - I could eat chicken forever and never get tired of it
• french fries - They are my favorite and if that was all I had to eat, I probably would not have to worry too much about getting fat.
• brown rice (no reason given and no full credit given for the question on the test)
• sandwich - I am not sure that this constitutes a single food item unless it is an air sandwich. Obviously this is a student who wants to push the limits!
• Fruit was also an answer. This falls into the same category as sandwich - only one type of fruit would be allowed.

Books

• The Bible had three votes (in a class of 10). The reasons for taking The Bible were as you might expect: It is full of inspiration and wisdom. It is a big book so I would have much to read. It is fresh even if you read it over and over.
• Something of Dante's. The exact title would be determined at the point of departure for the island. This student said he had not read anything by Dante and thought that he should.
• Fake Book - This is a music class so a Fake Book is a smart move.
• The Odyssey - This would keep anyone busy for a long time.

And my favorite book answer

• Some really big book - I have no intention of reading it because I really don't like to read, but if I get cold, I can burn it. The bigger and fatter the book, the better!

And finally, the CD choices. One would think that since this is a class of musicians, this would be the most interesting of the three choices. You be the judge.

CD's

• A CD by A Perfect Circle
• "La Scala "by Keith Jarret
• Jimi Hendricks "Are You Experienced?"
• "Kiss My Axe" (No artist was given. I guess I was supposed to know this CD. I don't.)
• Spiritual music (That is specific. Some people find Mozart spiritual. Others find spirituality in The Beatles. This is another case where full credit was not given for the answer.)
• Gospel music. Again I say, "Like who?"

The most interesting answer to this part of the question was:

• No CD - I prefer to listen to the sounds of nature. (I suppose I can get behind that as long as it is not barking dogs. I have had enough of that today. I am possibly preferring heavy metal to my personal sounds of nature right now.)

Knowing that I have these answers to read at the end of each test gives me something to look forward to after grading all of the analysis. Despite some of the incomplete answers to "The Last Question", I do feel like I know this semester's class a little better. And, I will learn a little more after Test #2.

Reading the students answers does help me to know them a little better, but I hope too that doing so offers the students some personal insight as well. I know it did for me.

My responses are:

Food: peanut butter - Just like the student who answered that soybeans could be mixed with many things to create variety, so too with peanut butter. Most things are made better by slathering on a little peanut butter. And, if things get really bad on the consumable front, a heavy slathering of peanut butter can hide a multitude of sins.

Book: The Anthology of Spiritual Poetry - This volume includes poetry from many cultures and periods of history. Like the Bible, a poem can be read fresh each time. Because of the variety of pieces in this book, I think there would be something that I would find both inspirational or entertaining in all circumstances that may arise on the island.

CD: John Michael Talbot's Meditations On The Spirit. Choosing a CD is the hardest part of the question for me. I feel like my answer should have been some monumental art piece. The truth is, when I listen to "art music", the theorist in me kicks in and I find myself analyzing the piece until I am not really hearing it any more. If I can only listen to one CD for the rest of my days, I don't want to spend my time dissecting it. This particular John Michael Talbot CD has always spoken to me. I particularly the song, "Veni Sanctus Spiritus".

How would you answer this question? Comments welcome if you would like to share.

Who Needs Those Elves Anyway

There are days when no matter how hard you try, acting like an adult is really hard. Today was one of those rare days that with the exception of taking Erin to school this morning and to rehearsal this evening, I had nothing specific that had to be done. There was plenty that could be done - mowing four acres of grass that is nearly up to my knees, vacuum the fur balls that are about to take on life, tackle a growing pile of laundry, grade some papers, finish reading the script for the show I am working props, write the center essay for the next issue of Spirit of Knitting, finish knitting the sweater I am teaching a class on in a few weeks. This is depressing! I was wrong. There were many things I should have been doing. There is always tomorrow . . .

I did manage to clean the kitchen, do a load of laundry, and pay a few bills. Then it was time for lunch. I was hungry, but nothing sounded good except . . .a peanut butter and jelly, or maybe banana, sandwich. How first grade is that? I am happy to be in first grade today. I had my PB&J, some pretzels, and a glass of tea. I must say that this hit the spot - with the exception of one little thing. I needed a cookie! Every good sandwich and chips lunch should come with a cookie. We did not have any. I had two choices; I could throw a first grader's tantrum over no cookies or, lacking a personal relationship with the Keebler elves, I could do the adult thing and make some. I did not have enough energy for a respectable tantrum, so my decision was to make the cookies.

What kind of cookies to make? I decided to make my all-time favorite cookies, No Bake Oatmeal Chocolate Cookies. Craving these cookies is definitely a sign that today was a first grade day because they have been my favorite since I was in the first grade. If you are counting, that is forty years.

I was five years old and we lived in Newport, Rhode Island. When mom would go out on Friday nights to play bridge with the other Navy wives whose husbands were deployed, Kathy the babysitter was given the dubious honor of entertaining me. She took this 25 cent an hour job quite seriously. After feeding me the regulation babysitter dinner that mom left (Salisbury steak TV dinner with tater tots) we would make cookies - No Bake Oatmeal Chocolate Cookies. I loved Friday nights! I am sure that Kathy;s memories of me are not nearly as positive as mine are of her and her cookies.

As I got older and no longer needed a babysitter, mom still went to play bridge on Friday nights. I thought that was my sign that it was time to make cookies. I did have quite a philosophical debate with myself over this issue, however. My mom's rule was that I was not allowed to "cook" while she was away from home. The TV dinners, which required cooking in the oven because this was before microwaves, were out and sandwiches were in. This was fine with me as long as there were cookies. These cookies said they were "no-bake". Is that close enough to "no cooking"? This is only a little misleading. They do require just a little melting of sugar, butter, and chocolate and bringing this to the soft ball stage, but they are called "no-bake". I figured that was close enough so I went with that. And with no babysitter, I did not have to share the cookies. I still loved Friday nights.

And I still love these cookies. Even though it was Thursday afternoon and not Friday night, I made some. I also ate too many. I did, however, share with BK and Erin. Sharing was today's conceit to being grown-up.

I am not sure what it is about these cookies that makes them so awesome. I guess it is that they contain the three ingredients that rock my world - chocolate, peanut butter, and oatmeal. Any one of these things makes me blissfully happy; when you put them all together life is perfect! Though the taste is out of this world, these are not the most attractive cookies. We all know, however, that you should not judge a book by its cover. if you decide that don't look good, I'll be glad to take care of your share.

It is nearly midnight and there are still some left. Assuming I go to bed soon, Erin will get a couple in her lunch tomorrow.

Don't they look good! Because I am in a sharing mood, here is the recipe.

No Bake Oatmeal Chocolate Cookies

• 2 C sugar
• 1/4 C butter
• 2 T cocoa
• 1/2 C milk
• 3/4 C peanut butter
• 2 1/2 C quick oats
• 1/4 t salt
• 1/2 t vanilla

Heat sugar, butter, cocoa, and milk in sauce pan. Once all is melted, add peanut butter. Boil for 3 minutes. Remove from heat and stir in oatmeal, vanilla, and salt. Drop by teaspoon onto wax paper.

Tomorrow is Friday. If you find yourself home alone tomorrow night, try these cookies. If you have date, cancel and stay home and make these cookies. You won't regret it!