Music Week Day 1: The Contrasts and the Contradictions

 The last 24 hours have been full of contrasts.  On the one hand, it was the first full day of  Music Week at Lutheridge:

--Monday began with a long walk with the S. Florida church friend who is staying with us for the week.  Up and down hills, but I didn't really notice them because the conversation was deep and meaningful.

--Morning worship was also deep and meaningful.  I LOVED this prayer of the day:  "On the night he was betrayed, Jesus took bread, not revenge.  He offered bread to feed and to forgive.  On the night he was betrayed, Jesus took a basin of water to sooth [sic], liberate, and heal.  Help us, so washed and fed, to do the same."

--My inner English major was intrigued by the above spelling error, which made me think of soothsaying, which I continued to think about all day.

--My inner English major also was there for Bible study, which will take us to some villains in the Bible.  We began with one of the biggest, the serpent in the Garden of Eden.  One participant talked about the devil possessing the serpent, which sent me to the text, which reminded me that it's not in the text.  Ah, Milton, how your version has taken over everything we think we know about the story--which is what I said, in more non-English-major accessible form.

--One of our last questions for Bible study was "What does the serpent get out of this?"  I keep misspelling serpent, and this morning, I thought about serpent and repent, and now I want to write a poem, "The serpent repents."

--I was there for general choir rehearsal.  From the very beginning, this group can sing.  They sounded amazing, like they had been practicing for weeks, instead of just beginning together.

--The director has interesting ways of describing what he wants:  "You just sang the color dusty rose.  But it was the dusty rose of a piece of tuille or a curtain so faded you can see through it.  Now try it as a deeper rose color."  I immediately thought of a creative writing class idea, having students write a description and me bringing in different fabrics and colors and saying, "Now write it this way." 

--We had good meals together at our house.  The prep work was easy because I did most of it in advance.  It's becoming clear that I have prepared too much food--happily, much of it is freezable.

All of yesterday happened against a back drop of World Cup drama, both the games themselves, and the rumors of a phone call pressuring the officials to change a decision about red cards.  And then, this morning, the U.S. team lost anyway.

I got up this morning to news not only of that sports/political development/scandal, but also of the one in Maine.  If I left that sentence standing by itself, would future me remember which scandal I'm referring to?  In the interest of history, let me note that there are new rape charges against the Democratic candidate for Senate.  The charges that were already known (inappropriate sexting, inappropriate use of force against girlfriends) by the time of the primary would have been more than enough to disqualify him in the not-so-distant past.  Sigh.

I don't have a pithy way to end this post.  After all, if we're lucky, every given day is full of these contrasts if we just know to look:  deep friendship and deep spirituality and the farcical elements of modern life particularly the political bits and pieces, along with song and sustenance of all sorts.

Annual Dinner with Camp Counselors

Last night, we had dinner with the Lutheridge and Lutherock camp counselors.  We've done it before, and I always come away impressed.  The neighborhood community who lives in the residential section of Lutheridge brings a variety of desserts, and the camp provides burgers and hot dogs, chips and beverages.

We sat with a guy who's finishing the fall semester and then headed to Duke Divinity school and another senior staffer who hopes to come back for another summer or two before he said he probably should find a regular job.  I said, "Or you could continue working in outdoor ministries year round."

Happily, no one was there to point out the shrinking job opportunities in that field.  I will never understand why the larger church doesn't do more to help/commit to campus and outdoor ministries.  The counselors I spoke to last night are full of hope for all the ways their futures might unfold.  I've found that my SMC students are similarly optimistic.  It's refreshing.

Before the dinner, I spent the day trying to fix my course shell for my online class at Spartanburg Methodist College.  The book has changed editions (again--sigh), so the references to the book page numbers that students find in the assignments and discussion posts are wrong.  Ugh.  I'm teaching someone else's course, and so it's not intuitive to me, the way I would have if I had created it all--it takes more time to diagnose problems and fix them.

I also did some baking--I decided to bring a gluten free, dairy free dessert.  It worked beautifully.  It's an almond-coconut concoction, and I want to record it here:

1 C. sugar

3 eggs

1 1/2 C. almond flour (or grind up a lot of almonds into as fine a powder as possible)

1 1/2 C. coconut (I used sweetened and unsweetened in 2 different experiments--no difference)

Whip the sugar and eggs until tripled in volume or until tired of the noise of the mixer.  Fold in the almond flour and the coconut.  Pour in a 9 inch cake pan lined with parchment paper and greased or in cupcake pan.  Bake at 350 for 25ish minutes.  You can only tell if it's done by color--a golden, light brown color.  It will be sticky and delicious.  It keeps at room temperature for days, although the crispiness of the crust declines.

A Good Week: Teaching and Sewing

It's been a good week, one that has left me a bit more tired than usual, but tired in a good way. 

We're at the end of the third week of in-person classes at Spartanburg Methodist College, and I'm happy to report that my classes are still in a collective good mood.  Yesterday, despite a bit of chaos at the beginning of class as I printed last minute submissions of rough drafts and rearranged the room, peer editing in my English 101 class went REALLY well.  Usually peer editing is a much more mixed event.

What's made it a tiring week is that I've been doing Quilt Camp on either side of teaching.  It's not ideal, but I'm glad to have had the time at Quilt Camp.  I've had a chance to spread out my fabric and remember what I was planning, back in May when I put fabric away as CPE was about to start.

I've been working on this quilt top:

I've been sewing strips to make it bigger.  I had planned to make this quilt completely random, but in fact, each strip has various smaller bits that go together.  I like how the whole quilt looks, and it's even more fun up close.  I've enjoyed sewing the strips, but as the quilt has gotten bigger, I've enjoyed it less.  

Note for the future:  I could sew the individual strips by hand, and then sew them all together on a machine so that the process goes faster.  Do I have a machine?  No.  One of the Quilt Camp folks is going to bring me a small machine to see if I want it.  Many people would not, because it can only sew two types of stitches, with no computer.  Plus it's small--she seemed to say that I could put it on a shelf.  We shall see.

In the meantime, I now will have some sewing to do in the evenings, as I try to stay awake until it's bedtime.  This kind of sewing can be more mindless than sketching in the evening or writing notes.

This Quilt Camp was promoted as a stripped-down Quilt Camp:  no teaching time, no planned excursions, no evening devotions/worship.  Fewer people have come, primarily because it's not a great time in August, the days leading up to the Labor Day week-end.  It's not great for me, because it's so early in the term, and I had already needed flexibility because of my mom's hospital scare and my need to be gone for a day to finish CPE.

But I'm glad I've made the effort.  It's been wonderful to have a chance to talk to people, to see other people's projects, to get inspired.  The quilt I'm working on has been inspired by this type of quilt, where the kind of small scraps that most people throw away have been sewed together into bigger blocks:

Here's an inspiration from this year:

Every square is different.  The quilter has followed a pattern, which boasts of 100 different squares.  I love the idea of following my own whimsey. 

I've enjoyed Quilt Camp, although it's been strange:  when I'm at school, I've almost forgotten that I had been sewing, and then when I've been at Quilt Camp, I've been immersed.  Wait--am I finally learning to exist in the present moment?

No, not really, although I am getting better at living in the present moment.  It helps to be living in a house and an area that we can afford, to have several jobs that I love, and that I'm not taking classes at the moment.  I am glad to be here in this place.

Quilt Camp Begins

Usually, Lutheridge offers Quilt Camp twice a year, once in the Fall and once in the Spring.  After the Spring Quilt Camp, where so many people were distressed that the Fall 2025 Quilt Camp was already full, leadership decided to offer a late summer addition and see if there was interest.

Of course, it's hard to know which stretch of time would be best.  We couldn't offer Quilt Camp when summer sleep-away camp was still happening.  This year, August also held a 75th Anniversary week-end for Lutheridge and the Asheville Quilt Show.  So this four day stretch heading into Labor Day week-end was the only option.

I waited until the last minute to sign up.  I'll be teaching today and tomorrow, and I didn't want to claim a table if it meant that someone else couldn't attend.  But we didn't have the full registration that we expected, so I went ahead and claimed my space.

Quilt Camp started at 3 yesterday afternoon, and I spent the first hour sorting through my various collections, trying to remember what I was thinking when I organized my material back in the spring.  At first I felt despair and an urge to just throw it all in the trash.  Part of my despair was remembering how I had a plan in the spring, and the summer wiped out my ability to do much of anything beyond CPE and my weekly preaching.

Happily, I can often pinpoint the source of my despair and move beyond it.  As I sorted through fabric, my mind delighted at the memory of these fabrics and how I came to have them and the friends who have been part of the process.  I sat and sewed a few seams and settled into a rhythm.

I didn't take any pictures, but that's O.K.  I still have time.  But even better, I have a few days of my own table, a few days where I can leave everything spread out with the knowledge that I'm not in anyone's way.  I can sort and organize and sew and reconnect with friends.  

I can reconnect with myself and with the One who made me--one of the biggest gifts of Quilt Camp!

Saturday Snippets: the Prodigal Samaritan and Other Meanderings

Here we are, practically at mid-July.  Let me capture a few snippets that I want to be sure to remember:

--Last night, we had some folks over for dinner, some Music Week friends and family.  I offered invitations on Thursday, and the ability to be spontaneous made me happy.  I was also happy that my spouse was able and willing to take care of the important details, like buying the grillables, while I was at work.

--My spouse bought pork chops and country ribs because they were on sale.  Happily, all our friends and family eat pork.  But even if they didn't, we'd have had enough.  I finally made squash casserole, and we had watermelon too.  We had a pan of roasted potato pieces and a big salad.  One friend brought a bowl of peach chunks, which went so beautifully with pork and also worked for dessert with the chocolate chip oatmeal cookies I made earlier in the week.  

--We had seven people around the dinner table, which is about all we can fit comfortably.  It's a small table for our small space.  I'm glad we were able to make it work.  I'm grateful for friends who understand the challenges of a small space.

--I'm also grateful for a dishwasher, which made clean up so much easier.

--One early morning over oatmeal, I was talking about my dream coffee maker.  It would have several parts.  One would be a single serving, pod-like, machine.  One would be a traditional 10 cup coffee brewing contraption.  It would also make espresso and steam/froth milk (and the steamer needs to be detachable and dishwasher safe).

--Of course, such a machine would take up too much valuable counter-top real estate, even if I could bring myself to afford what a company would charge for such a contraption.  But it is the one counter-top appliance that I use every day.

--This morning I'm finishing my sermon on the Good Samaritan.  Earlier this week I said I was writing a sermon on the Prodigal Samaritan, and I have mused about what that parable might be.

--I have a lot to say about the Good Samaritan.  It's rare to have a Gospel reading that could go in multiple directions.  I often feel like I can barely eke out one sermon.  I'm grateful that this sermon came together easily, because it's been a jam-packed week.

--It's been a wonderful week.  I am not sure I could keep going at this pace, but I'm glad to know that I can hang in there for at least one jam-packed week.

A Look Back at Music Week

What a week it has been!  Today is the last day of Music Week at Lutheridge.  The pastor of my South Florida church and his wife have stayed with us.  She participates in Music Week, while he goes off to photograph waterfalls.  My mom and dad have stayed at Lutheridge lodging, but we've seen them every day, often for the evening meal.  My spouse has also participated in Music Week.  I have still been deep in C.P.E., but I have done evening activities:  worship service on Sunday, Monday, and Tuesday, and the hymnfest last night at the gorgeous St. James Episcopal church in nearby Hendersonville.

The week has zoomed by.  Each morning, I've gone for a walk with my pastor's wife, who is a dear friend.  

We've left the house at 6 a.m., take our walk, had heart-to-heart conversations during our walk, and then returned for oatmeal.  Then I've gone off for chaplaincy training.

One morning on our walk, we noticed a car up the road that had stopped.  As we approached, the car pulled forward and told us to be careful, as there was a mother bear and 4 cubs down the driveway.

I couldn't get a shot of all of the bears, but I am sure that there were 4 cubs.  That made me so happy.  Various neighbors have seen a mother bear with two cubs, which made us wonder about the other cubs.  Now it seems we might have multiple bears in the neighborhood.  I'm glad to see that they've survived.

We are at the midway point of chaplaincy training.  I've spent part of the week writing a document about what I've learned so far and what I hope to learn in the remaining time.  It's a more complex document than one might expect.  We also spent a day in our cohort discussing what we've written and experienced.  A major part of CPE is the processing of it all, and I'm grateful for that aspect.

Summer is zooming by!  In some ways we're at the midway point of summer, but in fact, we're slightly past the midway point.  My online classes that I teach will end in just a few weeks, and my onground classes begin on August 12.

Our houseguests leave today, but my mom and dad will stay for the week-end.  I'm glad that we can all take the time to be together a bit longer, to linger in the midpoint of summer.

Praying for Peace in the World, With Map and Candles

This year, because of CPE,  I can't participate in Music Week the way I have in the past.  But I can go to evening worship.

Last night when we arrived at the chapel, a map of the world was spread out across the center of the worship space.  We picked up battery operated tea light candles as we entered.

Photo by Piper Spencer

The focus of last night's worship was praying for peace in the world.  Near the end of the service, as we sang "Dona Nobis Pacem," we were encouraged to put our candles on a part of the map that we were praying for, and to widen our focus so that we didn't include just the U.S.

Photo by Piper Spencer

As you might be able to tell, the map is not to scale, so I wasn't sure exactly where I placed my candle.  But I thought that aspect worked symbolically too.  If I just pray for peace in the U.S., that peace is much less stable when the rest of the world is not peaceful.  I don't necessarily need to be able to visualize a specific country when I pray for peace in the world, although that prayer practice has merit.

When in doubt, without a doubt, let us pray for peace in the whole world.

Notes on the Halfway Point of Summer

I am at the end of week 4 of chaplaincy training.  July has begun.  We are at the halfway point of summer camp at Lutheridge.  Let me make a few notes.

--My cold has a long tail.  I can go through much of my day only coughing occasionally.  I'm no longer blowing my nose each hour.  But I still have a slightly scratchy throat.  If I talk for too long, I need a drink of water, and I don't feel like I can count on my voice.

--I have been wearing Saucony running shoes to work every day.  I am channeling that 80's woman commuting to work on public transportation--but I'm not changing into heels when I get to the office.  It's a new level of frumpiness for me.  But I am able to spend much of the day on my feet without excruciating back pain at night, so I'll stick with frumpy comfort.

--Music Week at Lutheridge starts on Sunday.  It will be a different experience for me this year--but I'm hoping I still get some quality time with friends and family who are coming through for Music Week.

--We are at so many halfway points:  summer is halfway over, Lutheridge summer camp is halfway over, the year is halfway over.  I wonder where we will be at the halfway point of next summer.  Hopefully I will be meeting with my candidacy committee to proceed to endorsement, which is usually a halfway point to ordination, but in my case, I'm doing things a bit out of order.  At Lutheran seminaries, students would do CPE much earlier, often in the summer after the first year, and then they'd get to endorsement sometime in the following year, before internship (year 3 of seminary) and the last year of seminary. 

--This week, my sketching was lifted up as one of my gifts that I should use in ministry.  I never really thought about my sketching as one of my gifts. I still think of myself as not good at visual art at all.

--As I've been training in various office spaces, I've discovered art supplies stashed away--a delight!  I found a tin box of Crayola markers, but much better quality markers than the Crayola label would imply.  The red marker is missing, which makes me wonder what happened to it.  Did someone love it and take it?  Did it run out of ink?

--I arrived early to rounds and discovered a guitar in the corner of the small conference room.  I strummed it, and to my untrained ears, it sounded like it was in tune.  I assumed that it belonged to someone who might not appreciate me playing it.  But no one is sure who owns it or how it came to be there.  Was it a person who once did music therapy?  That seems most likely, but why would that person leave the guitar behind?

--I looked up the chords to "This Land Is Your Land."  I reminded myself that I am not a guitar player.  I thought about getting my ukulele and bringing it on rounds--but I need a year or two of practice before I might be able to count the ukulele as one of my spiritual gifts

Visions and Revisions

Today my left eye is a lot better--not completely back to normal, but not getting worse or staying the same.  I am thinking it might have been a scratch compounded by sinus issues--on Saturday, I had to take the contact lens out of my eye because of sudden irritation.  I didn't think too much more about it.

I also thought about all those dairy workers who contracted bird flu which presented as pink eye.  We've been moving our bird feeder in for the night, as bears are on the prowl, and while we've been careful to wash our hands, I have wondered about my eye in that light.

Have I done something that a sensible person might do, like go to the doctor?  No.  I feel like the body can take care of most of my ailments, and yes, that belief has gotten me in trouble before, like with my broken wrist.  But I'm also remembering our South Florida eye doctor who told me that there wasn't really a cure for pink eye, except for time.  He could give me a cream to help with symptoms if I wanted, and he reassured me that I wasn't damaging my vision or my eye.

So, I have tried to be patient, even as I feel a bit of despair.  I had had such a good run of eye comfort.  What had brought it to a close?  The light sensitivity in the eye has meant I couldn't do much--not much reading, not much writing, not much sewing.  It's not exactly how I meant to be spending my last days of summer break.  Monday I begin my Clinical Pastoral Education at the Asheville VA Hospital.

Today I go over to the hospital to get fingerprinted and to have an ID made.  I am hopeful that I have all the pre-CPE tasks finished, but I don't have a master check list to be sure.  I am trying to trust that it will be O.K.

I did have a great conversation with my advisor at United Lutheran Seminary, the next seminary in my ordination path. That conversation left me feeling reassured that although the path forward may be slow, I am on track.  She will enroll me in a class that won't have cost to me so that I will have this CPE on my transcript.  The seminary does do part-time internships, so I won't have to choose between an internship with low pay and no health insurance and no internship which means a crashing halt to my ordination plans.  My advisor says that she has better luck finding part-time internships than traditional internships for students.  I can do an internship across 2 years, which would allow me to keep  my full-time teaching job.  Here's hoping that my lectureship continues to be renewed. 

Another amazing thing happened yesterday:  my church made me a video card to congratulate me on my graduation with my MDiv degree.  Hurrah!  You can view it here.  It was heartwarming to see all these old friends who took the time to make individual videos, which my pastor stitched together.  What a great use of technology!

Today, in addition to other tasks, I'll be using up some sour milk to make cupcakes for tonight's picnic with Lutheridge camp counselors.  Our residential neighborhood does this every year--it's good for the counselors to meet us and good for us to meet them.  It's one of the aspects of being part of a neighborhood that's part of a church camp that I love, the ways we can interact and help make summer successful.

I won't have as much free time to volunteer at camp this year.  Between CPE and my part-time preaching in Bristol, Tennessee, I won't have much time.  But hopefully, by doing CPE this summer, I'll have future summers with more flexible time so that I can volunteer more.

Good News, Bad News Hurricane Recovery

 Yesterday was the first day in over 45 days where we didn't get multiple phone calls from the City of Asheville telling us to boil the water that was coming out of our taps.  Yesterday we got the word that the boil water notice is lifted.  I emptied the last of the boiled water into the pitcher, my daily ritual.  Yesterday, I didn't boil more water.  It's been interesting to find out how much water we use for cooking and drinking--about a gallon or two a day, depending on whether or not we're home, whether or not we're cooking.

Some people went online to proclaim their jubilation.  I am tired, and part of me is always waiting for the other shoe to drop.  I try to do the things that help me maintain mental equilibrium.  On Sunday, I went for a walk, up to the chapel, to the outdoor altar where I planned to sit and breathe for a bit.

I saw smoke as I walked up the hill, and I expected to gaze out to see smoke drifting from a distant mountain.  Instead, I saw flames on the other side of the hill where the Quiet Way path would take hikers up to the chapel, flames not too far away from where I stood.  

I called the camp director before I called 911--in retrospect, that was stupid, but I wanted to make sure they weren't doing a controlled burn.  Nope, and he had called for help.  I walked quickly back down the hill, and then went down to a fork in the camp road to make sure to flag the trucks to the fire, should they come in the back entrance.

Happily, the response was quick.  I walked back up to make sure there was nothing more I needed to do.  The very kind fire fighter I chatted with briefly told me that I should never hesitate to call 911, that they often arrived to find fires under control, and those were happy days.

I have been worried about fire since the early days of hurricane recovery--so many trees down, and such a dry October and November.  I am glad the fire was contained, but worried about what would have happened if no one had been around/awake to see the smoke and flames, as several of us did.

I am also worried about the health of my spouse.  A few weeks ago, he did something to his back while helping with the chainsaw to get trees cleared.  It comes and goes, and just when I think we've turned a corner, he has a flare, a sciatica kind of pain.  Yesterday was a very bad flare.  Luckily, he has a doctor's appointment for his annual physical on Friday, so maybe we will discover that there's something that can be done.  

My spouse's experience makes me worry about the future. We do not live in a country that has lots of options for people who need more care than I can give--and with Trump in charge, I don't foresee our nation ever evolving that direction.  The long term outlook might terrify me, if I really let myself think about it.

But I don't have time to think about that now.  I have grading to do and then there will be more grading to do, and I have seminary work that must be done, and then final papers and projects for seminary.  Let me get that work underway before driving down the mountain to teach in person at Spartanburg Methodist College.

Hurricane Helene Leaves New Vistas

Another day without in-home internet access.  My phone-as-hotspot workaround is working, but I'm much more careful.  Yesterday morning, I listened to a conversation on video that's required for one of my seminary classes.  In pre-hurricane days, I might have assumed I could do that in the evening, but I got it done early in the morning, when I can be sure that the hotspot will work.  On Monday, it worked for my Zoom session that is required for a different seminary class, but it did freeze several times, and I had to sign off and log back on.  Happily, my professors know my situation, and they let me back in.

But it could be worse.  One of my colleagues at Spartanburg Methodist College still doesn't have running water.  Another's spouse lost her very successful business at Biltmore Village and is reassessing what the future looks like.  

It was four weeks ago that Hurricane Helene blew through our area, and I am still astonished at the amount of the damage that was done.  After all, this was just a tropical storm, not really a hurricane when it came to us.

Yesterday I walked up to the chapel.  I didn't have much time to walk, so I stayed up there, taking pictures as the light changed.  I wanted to be there when the sun finally rose over the mountain.

I am sad about the loss of trees.  I'd give up the beautiful mountain views that are left behind if we could magically have the trees back.  But since that's not possible, let me appreciate what has been left behind.

I know that other trees will now have a chance to grow and take their place.  Future generations will have a different view.  

Hopefully this cross and meditation space will still be here for them.

Saturday Snippets from the Last Week in July

What a week it has been!  Let me collect some snippets before it's time to go to the farmer's market to get some more of the wonderful tomatoes and peaches I got last week.

--It was Christmas in July week at camp, which meant Christmas decorations, Christmas music, Christmas cookies, but in small doses.  I will miss these small doses of holiday cheer.  But I also realize that before I know it, the Christmas in December season will be upon us.

--We delivered mail this week, which I've written about in earlier posts.  I was amazed at the amount of mail, and the mail delivery tasks took longer than I was expecting.  Yesterday I delivered the last few pieces of mail once the U.S. mail delivery finally got to us.  I told one of the Pioneer A counselors that I had a few pieces of mail, and some of the nearby campers lit up with hope.  It made me happy that they are still happy to get mail, and it made me wish I had more mail to give them.

--Every time we deliver mail, I wonder if we should get a golf cart of our own.  It seems to lift our spirits, zipping across camp.  Would that be worth the money?  Would the lift last?

--We have had so much rain here that trees have started falling over.  Not just one tree, but several trees on camp property have fallen down.  One fell into a power line, which kept part of Lutheridge in the dark for the better part of the evening and night, and the main entrance road into the upper part of camp is still closed.

--I am trying not to feel anxious about the trees in my own yard.

--It's been a week of wonderful baking.  Yesterday, I decided that I wanted a mug of Earl Gray tea with milk to go with my afternoon cookies.  And I made it, and it was wonderful.

--Last night, while the rest of the world watched the opening of the Summer Olympics, we finally watched Oppenheimer.  At first I thought I was bored, and now I want to watch it again to see what I missed.

--The movie took me back to the summer of 1985 or 86, when I read a lot about the development of the atomic bomb, in an attempt to try to understand how we got here.  Before I did that reading, I thought that the bomb was immoral, and that the U.S. shouldn't have created it.  After reading all those books, I realized that many countries were working on that achievement, and it could have been even worse.

--There are times when I feel sad about how much I don't read anymore, but I remind myself that I still immerse myself in topics, but I research differently now.

--I've been using my car as extra storage, and this week, I finally brought all my cloth in from the car.  My goodness, how have I gone from having no cloth in 2022 to having so much?  Part of me is delighted, and part of me wants to borrow one of the good sewing machines from the LWR quilt group at Lutheran Church of the Nativity and put some quilt tops together.

--One of the reasons that I have a slight desire to watch Oppenheimer again is that I was sewing something special for the Blessings of the Backpacks tomorrow, and I wasn't paying enough attention to the movie to make sense of which man in which suit was who and where we were in time in the movie.  I'll make a separate post on what I was sewing later, after giving them to the youth of the church.

--Realizing that I was running out of time on my mini project kept me focused on sewing, and I didn't eat or drink much last night.  I slept so much better.

--Of course, it might have been because it was finally cool enough and dry enough to open the windows.  Beautiful weather overnight! 

--Lots of political twists and turns this past week:  Biden withdrawing, Kamala Harris becoming the next Democratic candidate, barring more surprises.  I want to note this history, while not getting bogged down in it.

And now it is time to get my shower and head to the farmer's market.  These seasonal treats won't be in season forever!

A Week in Sticks and Snippets

It has been quite a week, and I don't mean just the assassination attempt and a Republican National Convention.  My week has been consumed by my volunteer work at Lutheridge, the church camp, where I was the C3ARE leader who does Bible study for the week. I had a co-leader, but it was still exhausting trying to engage 55 middle schoolers.  The campers were doing the Night Owls program, which lets them stay up very late at night, so it's been an adjustment for them.  Wednesday they were lethargic, but there was more energy yesterday.

Let me make a quick list of memorable moments from the past 4 days:

--Yesterday was a good day with the middle school campers.  We reviewed the stories we read, both the Bible stories and the illustrated books.  We went outside and had them create a response that represented their favorite story out of things they found outside (stressing that no destroying of nature could happen, no ripping of plants).  Two groups used sidewalk chalk that they found outside.  Several groups used a combination of sticks and rocks.  One group used the logs in the firewood storage bin.  Two groups did a skit.  It was great.  It built on what we did on Tuesday, and it reminded me that they are paying attention, even when they seem surly and/or lethargic.

--I've enjoyed the meals with other C3ARE leaders; it's been great, getting to know how others are living out their call.

--I've been thinking about camp and about the huge Lutheran youth gathering in New Orleans that is also happening this week.  I've been thinking about how we educate, train, and inspire the next generation, a topic that is so different when we talk about the theory and when we try out those theories with real humans.

--A lot of us work in schools during the school year, so we've had lots of discussions about classrooms too, which is both interesting, but after awhile, tiring.

--It's also been a week of reuniting with people I already knew but don't get to see often.  It's been wonderful, having something else to think about beside the political news and the folks I know with troubling health news, reminders that I am not getting younger.

--I'm also thinking of Biden contracting Covid-19 again.  Will this moment be a turning point when we look back?  Will he bounce back from this infection as he has the others?

--It's also been a week of deaths of famous people, some of whom were very important to me in my younger years, like Bernice Johnson Reagon and Bob Newhart, and some of whom were not as much, like Shelley Duval and Shannon Doherty.  There were very public people, like Dr. Ruth and Richard Simmons, who died this week.

--Yesterday was also the day of confirmation of a rumor that I heard earlier in the week:  my former school, City College (the Florida version, not the famous one in NYC) will close.  There's an announcement on the website about staying open for fall and winter quarter to help students finish, but they're also looking at other options.  I predict that students will be switched to online versions of programs, and that will be that.  I've been feeling a lot of emotions:  happiness that I'm no longer part of that school, sadness that yet another once-solid school has been run into the ground, wondering what the real story is (who buys a school to run it into the ground?  was there another scenario happening?  was it all a land grab?).

Today is likely to be another long day, so let me shift gears and get a walk in before the pace quickens.

Camp at Midweek

It has been a whirlwind week, in some ways.  Working with middle schoolers at camp leaves me more exhausted than any other experience so far this summer, and in fact, it may be the single most exhausting thing I ever do.  It has its peak moments, like Vespers on Monday, and its low points, like leading the group through Bible Study yesterday.

We are in Bischoff Lodge, which is the unairconditioned large gathering building that is part of the Wilderness cabin area.  We have 55 middle schoolers, 9 counselors, one area director, and the two of us leading the group.  That's A LOT of people for a space that's not designed for that many people.  And did I mention that it's not air conditioned?

On Tuesday, we had them go outside and see who could build the tallest, most secure structure out of materials that they could find (think sticks, branches, stones).  They seemed to have the most fun doing that, and it was the time when most of them were most engaged.

It was quite a contrast to yesterday, when they were listless and sullen.  I looked at the group as my co-leader was reading the story book, and I could not point to one who was engaged.  Maybe they were, and I just couldn't tell.  But I doubt it.

The curriculum involves a different story book each day, the kind of book that would be popular with first or second graders.  I'm not sure it's the best choice for middle schoolers, but mine is a minority opinion.

This morning, we'll try something different.  We'll send them outside to create something out of materials that they find--a sculpture, a 2 D picture--that represents one of the stories we've read together, either the Bible stories or the story books.

Tomorrow morning they assemble the final art project, a paper lantern, made of frames made of popsicle sticks, to make 4 square sides, and paper that's like parchment paper that one uses to line baking sheets.

I feel a bit of despair that we haven't done a good job.  I think we've done our best with what we've been given, but it's hard to believe that any campers are leaving enriched by our experience together.

Or maybe I'm being too hard on myself.  Our Vespers service felt like it was more meaningful, and we've had a few moments in our morning teaching that seemed to break through the lethargy.

I always tell myself that it's hard to know what really takes root, and we won't know.  But I'm pretty sure that nothing took root yesterday.  I hope today will be different.

Vespers in the Dark

Yesterday was the most full day as a C3ARE leader at Lutheridge.  The C3ARE leaders are the ones who do the Bible study, along with one Vespers service.  We are also invited to go along with any other activities, from swimming to crafts to various outings.

Unlike last year, when we only had 8 middle schoolers, we have a huge group of middle schoolers, 55 of them, 55!  Our meeting space is barely large enough.  We're indoors, at least, but it's not air conditioned, and with all those bodies in the room, it gets muggy by the end.  Our C3ARE sessions will be slightly later each morning, so I'm not looking forward to the warmer weather at the end of the week.

Yesterday morning left me a bit frustrated--it's hard to get everyone to focus.  And then we went to lunch, where everyone sang "Happy Birthday" to me, which was cool.  But the best part of the camp day for me was the Vespers service, which we planned.

We thought about the fact that Vespers for our set of campers, the Night Owls, is much later than for others.  It would be dark, so we talked about light and dark.  First we talked about how we tend to talk about God in terms of light blazing forth in terms of angel choirs and such.  I asked how else God's message comes to us in our Christmas stories.  I was so happy that the kids talked about the wise men and the star and Mary--God coming to us in the dark.

We're doing an experiment with seeds.  I wrapped some basil seeds in a wet paper towel, which I put in a plastic bag and put into a dark box.  We'll unwrap them in a few days when we talk more about how God works in the dark.

I had in mind Barbara Brown Taylor's Learning to Walk in the Dark, and I wondered if it would have a good meditation to read, but it was too late to get that book.  So instead, I created a guided meditation of sorts, doing some focused breathing and paying attention as we had less and less lights on in the Lake Pavilion.  We ended up with everyone at the railings, while I guided them to look up at the night sky, look out at the lake, look down at the ground, to remember that God is all around us and messages from God are all around us.

Then we sang "This Little Light of Mine."  One guy really wanted to sing "Kumbaya," so we did that too.  And then it was time to turn on the lights and have a closing prayer.  

Afterward, the area director counselor told me how much she appreciated the Vespers service and how it was so meditative, an exercise in mindfulness, which she really needed.  So, at least it worked for someone.  But I also felt that the middle school campers were much more engaged in the evening than they were in the morning, which was cool.  

Maybe that momentum will follow through today.  But even if it doesn't, I'll hope that something meaningful breaks through, even as I understand that I am unlikely to ever know for sure.

Music Week Begins

It has been a week:  a week of getting ready for our first overnight house guests in this house, a week of attending to tasks we've been waiting to get to for too long, a week of moving furniture, a week of buying furniture, a week of sore muscles and a sprained finger, a week of moving tools back to the shed, a week of cleaning, a week of going back and forth to Lowe's.  Music Week at Lutheridge begins today, and I think we're ready.

Our house guests arrived last night, South Florida friends that we haven't seen since we moved two years ago.  We sat outside and chatted while the sun set.  One of them will be at Music Week, the reason for the trip, and one of them will explore area waterfalls and take pictures.  My spouse, too, will be at Music Week, as will my parents who are staying in camp lodging.  I will be the support and logistics team:  buying food, driving the car/golf cart, keeping an eye on the weather.

We've been planning this week for a long time, and I'm hoping it all works out.  Our Music Week participants will have a very full schedule, so it should be fine.  I've been thinking about how long it's been since we had house guests.  We used to have people come and stay with us for a week, but that was pre-Covid.  I feel like I've forgotten how to use these hosting muscles, but happily, it's coming back.  It helps not to have to plan activities.

And of course, my regular life activities will still be happening:  the seminary class that I'm taking, the online classes that I'm teaching, and the quilt group at the local Lutheran church.  But it will be a good week, full of friends old and new, family, and music.  It's just what I yearned for when I used to live much further away.

Clay and Creativity on Independence Day

Yesterday was a very strange Independence Day, a day where we went to Lowe's late in the afternoon looking for the ever elusive pieces of the plumbing that my spouse is trying to construct.  Were we successful?  I have no idea, because our afternoon was going that badly.

When I look back on this year's Independence Day, I want to remember my morning.  I went over to the house of my dearest neighborhood friend to play with clay.  She had clay that needed to be used up, and I had ideas.  She also has glazes and a kiln--and an outdoor picnic table.  

We sat in the cool morning air, along with another friend of hers, and made all sorts of creations.  We all made pieces for a windchime (or 2 or 3).  We cut all sorts of shapes out of the clay and added all sorts of embellishments.  I have a vision for some small pieces that I can add to the yard, pieces with indentations that will also serve as mini bird baths.

I loved having my hands in cool clay, talking about art and process with friends, not talking about the state of the nation (we all know it's bad, and we all know the work that lies ahead--AND we know the need for creativity and self-care). I loved having an idea for what I wanted to create, but heading in new directions as the clay suggested.  I love that I am making one of a kind pieces.

I also delivered the mail to campers yesterday, also a treat.  Each area is decorated for the 4th, some with more handmade verve than others.  I love that the campers have friends and family who are sending them all kinds of mail and e-mail messages for me to deliver.  I love riding the golf cart in the summer sun.

We did not go to see the fireworks, although I did hear them later.  A bigger treat for me:  waking up close to midnight and NOT hearing any fireworks going off.  In South Florida, regardless of which neighborhood we lived in, there would be booms and bangs all night.

I like these reminders, in clay, in pine cones, in ribbons, and rocks, in found objects and manufactured ones, that the country has always been a cobbled together creation, in all its glorious messiness.  It gives me a strange hope for the future.

We Love Jesus, Yes We Do! We Love Jesus, How 'Bout You?

Yesterday I went for my morning walk and went by the dining hall in the minutes before breakfast, when all the campers wait outside.  I heard this chant/shout:  "We love Jesus, yes we do.  We love Jesus, how 'bout you?"  Then another group chanted/shouted the same thing back, only louder.  It was both a challenge between cabins/groups and a way of keeping kids occupied until the dining hall was ready for them.

Some might say, "Yes, and it was also indoctrination!"  Perhaps.  We might be kinder and say it was theological training.  But it seems less a way of mind control than a way of keeping kids focused and out of trouble while waiting to go into the dining hall.

Yesterday was the kind of day where there was lots of shouting in the news cycle.  Lately, it seems like every day is a day of lots of shouting in the news cycle.  I reflected on the purposes of shouting:  drowning out competing voices, keeping people focused, raising people's emotions for good or evil purposes.

When the news cycle shouts at me, I often turn off the TV/radio/internet site.  Yesterday, listening to children chanting/shouting outside the camp dining hall, I was charmed and wanted to linger.

But it's not my week of volunteering, not my week to enjoy breakfast at camp.  And so I rambled onward, picking a few berries out of the brambles on the downslope of the hill that took me away from the dining hall.

Saturday Scraps: June Winds Down

 It's been a whirlwind week, in some ways, a slow week in others.  Let me collect some scraps from the past week:

--I've completed some of the chores that come along with modern life.  I'm primarily thinking of the car registration, which requires a safety inspection.  I was able to get both cars inspected on Thursday afternoon, after I got annoyed with myself for wasting so much time during the day.

--I tell myself I've wasted time, but that's not true.  In any given day, there's a certain amount of mindless scrolling through social media and online newspapers.  But I don't waste as much time watching TV as I once did.

--This week, as we've watched TV of the mindless variety and TV of the well-written variety, I've gotten lots of sewing on my quilt done.

--I also went to quilt group on Wednesday.  I helped assemble two quilt tops; the Janome machine is a wonder.

--On Tuesday, I went to both our neighborhood happy hour at Sierra Nevada Brewing Company and my seminary class.  I'm looking forward to Mondays in August, where my neighborhood group will be exploring breweries in Mills River, and for most of the Mondays, I won't have a seminary class to attend.  On Tuesday, my time was tight, so I didn't drink, but it was good to see people and spend time together.

--Today is the two year anniversary of our purchase of this house.  I have no regrets.  It's been good to have a place to live that is paid for, even if it needs a lot of work.  It's a solid house, more solid than we knew when we bought it--a happy turn of events.  It's been a good investment.

--It's been interesting, living in a house in a residential community that's part of a church camp.  During 9 months of the year, it's fairly quiet, downright deserted.  During the summer, we don't hear noise from the camp at our house; the traffic noise from a major road nearby drowns out all other noise.  But my daily walk takes me through the camp, and it's a different experience during the summer, seeing groups of people doing camp things (swimming, walking to the dining hall, playing games in grassy areas).

--Despite the joys of summer, I'm yearning for autumn, even though autumn will be very busy with more teaching and more seminary classes to complete.  Let me continue to work on appreciating the present, even as I'm looking forward to seasons to come. 

A Dinner with Camp Counselors, A Feast Day that Celebrates Possibility

Late yesterday afternoon, something happened that gave me renewed hope for the future.  No, not the return of guilty verdicts in Donald Trump's NYC hush money trial; I'm still processing that bit of information, which will leave me with a huge mix of emotions.

No, for renewed hope, I highly recommend having dinner with a group of college students who are about to spend their whole summer as camp counselors.  In some ways, it will be idyllic, spending a summer in nature, around campfires, singing and talking about God and the best ways to live life.  In many ways, it won't be idyllic.  They will live in rustic cabins and even more rustic platform tents.  They will eat foods like corndogs and other food that is beloved by 8 year olds, but less so by grown ups.

And they are so excited.

Many of them come to this summer of camp counselor employment because they, themselves, were campers.  That's a great testimony to the power of camp.  Half of them have been camp counselors before.  

The group of people who live in the houses at Lutheridge and the camp counselors have dinner a few days before the first campers arrive on Sunday.  Many of us will live here will volunteer through the summer in a variety of ways.  But I don't expect the counselors to memorize our faces.  Similarly, it's a huge group, and I'm not going to recognize a non-counselor college student, should one appear during the summer.

No, the reason we do this is so that both sides can remember what a team effort camp is.  I like having a chance to talk to the next generation.  We had a great dinner conversation about musical theatre, about fairy tales, about feminism, about Shakespeare.  But even better, I got to hear about an even wider variety of interests that they all have.  One student is a double major in equestrian management and drama, for example.  It was interesting hearing about her typical day.

Today is the feast day of the Visitation, which adds an additional layer to my thoughts this morning.  This day celebrates both Mary, the mother of Jesus, and Elizabeth, the mother of John the Baptist, and their time together, both improbably pregnant, both facing the future that will take them in places they can't fully imagine.  And so, they spend time together, in solitude, yet together.

I love this view of community, the one offered by Mary and Elizabeth, the one offered by our dinner last night.  Some of us are older, but we are not yet finished with our glorious lives.  Some of us have the enthusiasm of those just starting a journey.  Some of us have prior experience, which may or may not equip us for what is to come.

But together, we can make a better world for the generations that are coming behind us, both the generations that we can meet, and those yet to be born.