A Chance Encounter at a Flu Clinic

It was when I worked as a public health nurse giving flu shots that I met a young mother and her daughter who I still remember vividly. As I was preparing the injection for the mom, I struck up a conversation with the little girl and found out the pertinent information. She was five years old and was thrilled to tell me she was starting Kindergarten very soon. As we chatted, she asked me if I was a nurse. I told her that I was indeed a nurse and then I asked her what she wanted to be when she grew up. She promptly answered, “I want to be a seahorse trainer!”

The Power of Being “Loved Into Being”

At five years old, this child was already dreaming and imagining who she would become. Fred Rogers, of the PBS children’s program Mr. Rogers’ Neighborhood, received a lifetime achievement award at the 1997 Emmy Awards. During his acceptance speech he spoke of all the people who had helped him get to this moment, and asked an auditorium full of adults to close their eyes for ten seconds and think of all the people who “helped you become who you are” and “who loved you into being.” When I dreamed of becoming a nurse and my five-year-old friend dreamed of training seahorses, we were both being loved along the way by the various adults in our lives to dream and imagine our way into creating our very selves. And, isn’t imagining and dreaming the first step to creating anything?

I wonder if God imagined and dreamed before creating our world? When God said, “Let the earth bring forth living creatures of every kind: cattle and creeping things and wild animals of the earth…,” Genesis 1:24, did He dream of creating animals so unbelievable and amazing that surely no one would believe it was possible?

The Divine Imagination at Work

Sometimes, I imagine the Almighty sitting in a recliner made of clouds to dream and imagine and imagine and dream, over and over again. From the beginning, He must have decided that there were no bad ideas and everything was on the table. Talking birds? Absolutely! A fifty pound sea creature with eight arms and the ability to squeeze through a one inch gap? Of course! An animal that has a 7-foot-long neck? Sure!

As God walked the golden corridors of heaven, He must have imagined a flying insect that would be capable of emitting light during the twilight hours so that thousands of flickers of light could be seen. Did he also imagine that children of every time and place would be so enchanted by these zooming dots of light, they would be compelled to chase them? Did He imagine that generations of parents would watch their children running wild and chasing these elusive dots of light and be enchanted as well?

Created In His Image—with Imagination

After creating the outlandishly bizarre creatures of the Earth, how surprising that God pulled a fast one when he created people in His image. People would not have the ability to squeeze through one inch holes or illuminate body parts, but like God, people would have imaginations that allowed them to pursue their own outlandish dreams.

Michelangelo would dream of God’s creation of the earth and go on to paint it on the ceiling of the Sistine Chapel. The Wright brothers dreamed of flying through the air – a dream that eventually led them to build and fly the first airplane. Florence Nightingale dreamed of caring for the sick and wounded in a systematic and ordered way that would eventually become the foundation for professional nursing. And one day, I would dream of becoming a nurse and joining the profession Florence Nightingale founded.

God’s Tender Gaze Over All Creation

I imagine God looking down at the Earth with great tenderness from the highest point in heaven gazing upon all the creatures and plants, mountains and oceans, canyons and people that He loved into being. I am certain God remembers every single soul He created throughout time, knowing them by name as well as the number of hairs on their head. And, of course, God also knows by name the little soul who dreamed of training seahorses and, for all we know, is working at an aquarium training seahorses this very minute.

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Click to learn more about the:
Tenth Annual Abundant Aging Symposium
Ignite Creative Potential: The Aging Superpower
Exploring New Options, Self-Expression and Experiencing Joy
Friday, October 31, 2025 9:45 am to 3:15pm
In Person and Online | The Ohioan (formerly Nationwide Hotel), Columbus, Ohio

The post Love Into Being appeared first on United Church Homes.

The day began like any other day at Disney. After waking, we dressed and ate breakfast then promptly went to catch the Disney bus that would take us to EPCOT. In the morning, these buses are absolutely nuts. They are filled to the brim with excited children and adults. Everyone was full of energy and anticipating a spectacular day at Disney World. And yes, many of the passengers, both children and adults, were proudly wearing their mouse ears.

However, by mid-afternoon, I was worn out and decided to go back to our hotel room for a short nap. I boarded the bus and found, unlike the morning, it was practically empty. There were just four of us on board. Besides myself, a mom and her two young sons sat across from me. The mom looked exhausted and the children were fractious. The excitement and energy were long gone, replaced with whining and a few tears.

The youngest child was waving around a plastic souvenir light saber, coming awfully close to giving his older brother a good whap. In a firm no nonsense manner the mom said, “Give that to me and sit down! You can play with it later. You can have a snack and a drink when we get back to the hotel room. You will just have to wait.”

A Smile Communicates

She said all of this in Chinese. I don’t speak Chinese, but that didn’t seem to matter. I looked over at this mom, and we both smiled and so much was communicated back and forth between us. She was apologizing for her cranky child, and I was telling her that I understood because I had been there myself. My smile also told this tired mom to try to enjoy even the difficult parts because they grow up so fast.

This same phenomenon occurred while I was visiting a beach in Maine’s Acadia National Park. As I was sitting on my towel, I did some people watching and zeroed in on families with little kids. Moms were speaking in French, Spanish, and Dutch, and even though I don’t speak French or Dutch and minimal Spanish, it was absolutely clear what they were saying. And, I noted, they were all saying the same things, “Get back over here, I need to put sunscreen on you.” “Watch your little sister.” “Do not jump off that rock.” “It’s okay sweetheart, it’s just a scratch. Let me give you a hug.”

The Same in Any Language

At the time, I remember chuckling and not thinking too much about it, but then when I had my experience on the Disney bus something clicked. I realized something bigger and more profound was going on. I understood in a deeper more complete way that mothering, nurturing and loving is the same in all languages.

I suppose prior to this “aha” moment, I would have said that, of course, mother’s all over the world love their children. However, I would not have understood how deeply every mother and, indeed, anyone else who “mothers”—whether it be grandkids, nieces and nephews, or the kids at church—are connected to one another as we work to raise the next generation.

This connection is not a tenuous thing. Regardless of where we live, what language we speak, what religion we practice, or what political party we belong to, this connection does not break. Like it or not, raising young humans binds humanity beyond any conflict or difference we might have with one another.

Realizing this profound connection I have with mothers and nurturers everywhere comforts me. Indeed, even with all the painful and unjust things in this world, it makes me feel a little better to know that I could be in a room with any mom from any place around the world and we would communicate just fine. After all, we speak the same language – the language of mom.

For Reflection (either individually or with a group)

Read the blog. Read it a second time, maybe reading it aloud or asking someone else to read it aloud so you can hear it with different intonation and emphases. Invite the Divine to open your heart to allow the light of new understanding to pierce the shadows of embedded assumptions, stereotypes, and ways of thinking so that you may live more abundantly. Then spend some time with the following questions together with anything or anyone who helps you reflect more deeply.

• Are there people with whom you have a deep connection such as the author described with other moms? If so, with whom?
• If not, why do you think that is?
• Do all those who are aging have any responsibility to help to positively raise the next generation?

Download a pdf including the Reflection Questions to share and discuss with friends, family, or members of your faith community small group.

Courtesy of The Center for Abundant Aging, advocating for a just, inclusive society conquering ageism; delivering education and resources to transform how we think about elderhood; and cultivating the riches of Abundant Aging through transformational collaborations.

Blog: Copyright 2025, Lisa B. Thomas, All Rights Reserved. Photo designed by Freepik.

The post The Language of Mom appeared first on United Church Homes.

Right before I went into the Labor and Delivery Room, my brother Mark texted me this message, “Remember this is a sacred moment. Open your heart and take this in.” And then, I walked into the room where my daughter-in-law Yoly was in labor. My son Tim and Yoly’s mother Wanda gave me a hug, I kissed Yoly’s forehead and we waited for the contractions to do their work to dilate the cervix.

The magic number is 10 centimeters, which is how much a cervix must be dilated before a baby can be born. Yoly was only at three centimeters so we all settled in to wait while the nurses bustled in and out. But we settled in too soon, as it wasn’t long before a nurse performing a routine check found that Yoly was now at 7 centimeters, and the anesthesia team came to give Yoly her epidural.

Very quickly, the contractions became more frequent and intense, and before we knew it, Yoly was dilated to 10 centimeters. It was time to push. During each contraction, the nurse told Yoly, “Push 2,3,4,5,6,7,8,9,10. OK, again! Push! 2,3, …Once more! Push 2,3, ….” There would be a 60-90 second period of rest before another contraction would start and the pushing would commence again.

A Problem Arises

Over and over again, Yoly would push, but it soon became apparent the pushing was ineffective. The baby wasn’t seating properly into the pelvis, and it was thought that the baby’s head was hyperextended, not allowing it to move into the birth canal. By this point, Yoly had been pushing for over an hour. She was placed in various positions during the contractions to try to change the baby’s head position but to no avail. Another hour passed.

As Yoly became more and more exhausted, my worry increased and I wondered how much longer she could continue. I then recalled my brother’s words, “Remember this is a sacred moment. Open your heart and take this in.” I have always thought of sacred moments as ones that are relaxed and peaceful and might even include a glimpse of the heavenly, like an angel. For goodness sake, folks bump into angels right and left in scripture.

No Peace and No Angels

However, at that moment, in that labor and delivery room, I felt no peace. No angels appeared. I was simply afraid for the health of my daughter-in-law and my grandson. And soon, the labor and delivery room became increasingly tense as the doctor started saying things about using a vacuum extractor to help pull the baby out, and if that didn’t work, a C- section might be needed. Yoly was saying she wasn’t sure she had the strength to push any more. My fear began to ratchet up.

According to Collins English Dictionary, “Something that is sacred is believed to holy and to have a special connection with God.”

But, to be aware of the sacred is not always so easy when the reality we live in is so physical and so distracting. When experiencing realities like physical pain, illness, injury, worry, or sadness, it can be very difficult to also experience the holy and to feel connected with God.

Mary Magdaline and Jesus

Lent, and particularly Holy Week, is the time when the Christian church remembers Jesus’s death, which is rooted very firmly in the physical. Death by crucifixion is a particularly brutal and tortuous way to die; scripture tells us that Mary Magdalene, a devout follower of Jesus was present during his death and, indeed, had a front row seat to witness this horror.

Mary Magdalene knew how special Jesus was; she heard His preaching and saw His healings. She herself was healed by Jesus. But her devotion to Jesus and her commitment to His teachings went a step further, as she also helped to support His ministry. Clearly, Mary Magdalene loved Jesus, and I can only imagine that she experienced incomprehensible pain and agony watching Him die.

After Jesus died, she watched as His body was carried into a tomb and a stone was placed at the entrance. Three days later, she returned to the tomb to find the stone rolled away. The Gospel of John says, “Mary stood outside the tomb weeping. As she wept, she knelt to look into the tomb and saw two angels sitting there, dressed in white, one at the head, the other at the foot of where Jesus’ body had been laid.” John 20: 11-12

Back in the Delivery Room

Back in the labor and delivery room with all my worries and fears, I prayed, while the doctor and nurses encouraged Yoly, telling her, “You can do this!” Yoly nodded through her exhaustion, and so, with the vacuum extractor’s help and Yoly’s superhuman efforts, Josiah David was born. He weighed a whopping 9 pounds 12 ounces, which answered the question of why Yoly was having so much difficulty birthing this child. They placed Josiah on Yoly’s chest, and I heard the lusty sound of a baby’s cry. I couldn’t get over how impossibly beautiful and perfect my new grandson was. He was, in fact, angelic.

My brother not only urged me to remember that Josiah’s birth was a sacred moment, but to open my heart and take this in. And, I did. I took in all the pain and uncertainty that was part of Josiah’s birth. Likewise, Mary Magdalene’s heart took in all the pain and devastation of Jesus’ death. For, if you wait to experience the sacred only in relaxing and happy situations, unencumbered by worry or pain, your experience of the sacred would be quite limited. Because you never know, you could be entertaining angels and never even know it.

Do not forget to entertain strangers: for thereby some have entertained angels unawares. Hebrews 13: 2

For Reflection (either individually or with a group)

Read the blog. Read it a second time, maybe reading it aloud or asking someone else to read it aloud so you can hear it with different intonation and emphases. Invite the Divine to open your heart to allow the light of new understanding to pierce the shadows of embedded assumptions, stereotypes, and ways of thinking so that you may live more abundantly. Then spend some time with the following questions together with anything or anyone who helps you reflect more deeply.

• Have you ever experienced a sacred moment? What was it and what made it sacred?
• What can you do to stay open to an experience of the sacred?
• What can you do to help someone else be more aware of the sacred moments in their lives?

Download a pdf including the Reflection Questions to share and discuss with friends, family, or members of your faith community small group.

The post An Awareness of the Sacred appeared first on United Church Homes.

By Lisa B. Thomas – March 26, 2025

My husband John is an avid vegetable gardener so when we moved into our home 30 plus years ago, he couldn’t wait to start planting.

“Then He told them many things in parables, saying, ‘A farmer went out to sow seed.’ ” Matthew 13:3

He envisioned a garden full of thriving plants bearing all the vegetables and herbs his parents and grandparents grew – succulent tomatoes, plump green peppers, bright yellow summer squash and fragrant spearmint, oregano and thyme.

 As he was scattering the seed, some fell along the path, and the birds came and ate it up.” Matthew 13:4

Excitement to Exasperation

However, John’s excitement soon turned into exasperation as not only did we enjoy the fruits of his labor, so did the deer and the rabbits and the birds. The deer were the worst. Turns out, deer love green beans and chard, especially when the plants are young and tender. In the early years, it wasn’t uncommon for John to find his newly growing plants to be eaten down to the ground where nothing but little nubs remained.

He tried everything to keep them out. When he read that dog urine repels deer, he placed small cups of dog urine provided by our dogs Annie & Allie around the perimeter of his garden. Unsurprisingly, it didn’t work. Likewise, he read that cakes of Irish Spring soap scattered throughout the garden would repel deer. Although it smelled better than dog urine, it didn’t work either.

Undaunted, John next tried physical barriers; he placed 8-foot-high heavy mesh fencing around the garden. Although it kept the deer out, it also gave off a slightly prison vibe. He has settled on putting individual caging around each plant which is more aesthetically pleasing while not reminding us so much of Alcatraz.

“Some fell on rocky places, where it did not have much soil. It sprang up quickly, because the soil was shallow. ⁶ But when the sun came up, the plants were scorched, and they withered because they had no root.” Matthew 13: 5-7

The Obstacle of Clay Soil

Another significant obstacle John encountered was clay soil–lots and lots of clay. There was so much clay, we could have built a kiln in our backyard to fire the pots we made from all that clay. Growing anything in clay soil is practically impossible so John knew that one of his first jobs was to improve the soil quality.

However, 30 years ago finances were tight. We had just purchased a house and were preparing for our first child. John’s budget for soil improvement was limited. OK, it was zero, but that didn’t stop him. He got creative and built wooden frames with mesh in the middle. The idea was to sift out the clay leaving the good soil. So, every weekend, we trooped out to the garden to sift soil, and I can say with certainty that sifting clay out of soil is a hot and thankless task.

But, did it work? Well, it did help, but it wasn’t until our finances improved and we could afford to have a truckload of rich, fertile soil delivered did his plants really begin to thrive.

“Other seed fell among thorns, which grew up and choked the plants.” Matthew 13:8

Always Weeds

And, of course, there are always weeds to be pulled throughout the growing season. Some years, John had extra responsibilities at work and weeding took a back seat. Nowadays, John is retired so the weeds don’t stand a chance against his vigilance as the Weed Whacking Warrior or, if you prefer, the Wacky Weed Warrior.

^“Still other seed fell on good soil, where it produced a crop—a hundred, sixty or thirty times what was sown.” Matthew 13: 8

These days, John’s garden is truly magnificent. By August, his garden is overflowing with ripening vegetables of all kinds as well as an abundance of herbs. To top it off, his garden is truly a joy to look at with paths between the raised beds, benches for relaxing, a sun dial and even an armillary. It is lush and bountiful. It also took 30 years.

When we plant seeds, whether in our backyard gardens or in the gardens of our lives, we have choices to make. We can scatter seeds to grow our relationships, our passions and our spiritual life hoping they land in good soil. We can also hope that the deer don’t eat the tender new shoots and the weeds don’t choke the life out of our efforts. That is, of course, an awful lot of hoping.

Like any plantings, the seeds of our time, talent and money require careful tending. Lent is always a good time to plant and nurture a few new seeds. Plantings to further our relationship with God and to care for our neighbors are wonderful ways to observe Lent and prepare our hearts for Easter. Spending daily time in prayer, helping at the community meal, or visiting someone who is homebound are some places you might sow your Lenten seeds.

Not only in Lent, but throughout our lives, we plant many seeds and, when doing so, we might want to take a page out of John’s gardening book. His abundant and thriving garden only happened because of his creativity, persistence and hard work. Only with intention and diligence can we expect the good seeds we plant in our marriages, our parenting and in our work to further God’s realm to thrive and produce a harvest of salvation. Indeed, to produce a crop a hundred, sixty or thirty times what was sown.

“May they who have ears hear.” Matthew 13:9

For Reflection (either individually or with a group)

Read the blog. Read it a second time, maybe reading it aloud or asking someone else to read it aloud so you can hear it with different intonation and emphases. Invite the Divine to open your heart to allow the light of new understanding to pierce the shadows of embedded assumptions, stereotypes, and ways of thinking so that you may live more abundantly. Then spend some time with the following questions together with anything or anyone who helps you reflect more deeply.

• Where do you feel you need to plant new seeds of your time, talent and money?
• What are the deer or weeds in your life that might cause the seeds you scatter to take root?
• What do you expect to grow from those seeds you plant?

Download a pdf including the Reflection Questions to share and discuss with friends, family, or members of your faith community small group.

The post Gardening 101 appeared first on United Church Homes.

It was Christmas morning of 1971. I was 10 years old and while unwrapping a plethora of stocking gifts, I noticed a rectangular package. I reached for it and as I flung aside the wrapping paper, my eyes got wide and I gasped. It was a diary with a lock and a teeny tiny key! I looked in awe at this miracle and wondered, how did my parents know that this was my heart’s desire? Except that I didn’t even know it was my heart’s desire until I saw it. This was a gift of such magnificence that I never could have dreamed of asking for it.

How Did They Know?

I finally had a place to write my secret thoughts and longings. I could finally write about my love for David Cassidy, the teen heartthrob from the TV sitcom The Partridge Family. I could finally put down, in ink, that I longed for David Cassidy to be my big brother. And in the back of my mind, I kept wondering how my parents knew that I not only wanted a diary, but that I needed a diary.

Advent memories are a lot like Christmas memories to me; they all blur together. Every year, it is the same. We decorate the church with garlands, a Christmas tree, and candles in the windows. We prominently display the creche–except the ceramic baby Jesus, who won’t be reverently placed in the manger until Christmas Eve–on the altar. We put the imposing advent candle stand in the front of the church with three purple and one pink candle, ready to be lit one by one each Sunday in Advent.

Every year is the same, with a different family each week asked to light the advent candles and it’s always the least shy member of the family walking with determination up to the microphone to say the prayer. And each year it is the same, with the congregation holding their collective breath until the candle wick catches fire. Of course, this is especially nerve-wracking when a child is doing the lighting. But each year, we blunder through until Christmas Eve arrives and every Advent candle is lit, and we can finally place the ceramic baby Jesus in the tiny wooden manger of the beautiful creche. After four weeks of lighting candles and singing different verses of O Come O Come Emmanuel, baby Jesus has arrived.

Every Year the Same

And every Christmas Eve, it is the same. We attend church and hear the Christmas story. The shepherds still watch their flock by night, and the angels continue to praise God with everything they’ve got. There are still no vacancies at the inn, so every year this teenage mother-to-be must give birth to our Savior in a barn.

The Christmas Eve worship service always ends with the congregation singing Silent Night in a darkened sanctuary, holding candles and again holding our collective breath, this time hoping no one will drop a candle and set the church on fire. After the last verse is sung, all the candles are extinguished, and the congregation heaves a collective sigh of relief, we proceed quietly out to the cloakroom to put on our winter coats, and whisper “Merry Christmas” to one another in hushed voices.

How Did God Know?

We leave the Christmas Eve service in a state of awe at this miracle birth and ask ourselves, “How did God know?” How did God know that we needed a Savior who would grow into a man who would love us so completely and show us such forgiveness that it included the whole world? We were waiting for a Savior that would take an eye for an eye. We were not expecting a Savior who showed compassion and turned the other cheek. We were definitely not expecting a Savior who asked us to do the same.

And year after year, it is the same. Our eyes get wide and we gasp at our Savior’s birth, knowing that we not only want this Savior but that we need this Savior. And we realize that this is a gift of such magnificence that not one of us in two thousand years could have imagined such a Savior. And each Christmas Eve, as the ceramic Christ child is placed in the tiny wooden manger, we shake our heads in wonder, and ask ourselves, “How did God know?”

For Reflection (either individually or with a group)

Read the blog. Read it a second time, maybe reading it aloud or asking someone else to read it aloud so you can hear it with different intonation and emphases. Invite the Divine to open your heart to allow the light of new understanding to pierce the shadows of embedded assumptions, stereotypes, and ways of thinking so that you may live more abundantly.

• Do you remember a time when you got exactly the gift you wanted, even if you didn’t know immediately that you wanted it?
• What did the gift mean to you? What makes that memory so special?
• What do you find so special about the divine gift of Jesus to humanity?

Download a pdf including the Reflection Questions to share and discuss with friends, family, or members of your faith community small group.

The post A Diary, Four Candles and a Savior appeared first on United Church Homes.

Once we got to the fair, my first priority was to see the animals, and there were plenty of opportunities. We could visit the sheep barn or maybe the horse barn. There was also a baby animal barn, which housed the animals who had just given birth; as soon as we arrived, Mary and I made a beeline for the babies. We saw a newly born calf, some adorable baby bunnies, and 12 newly born piglets. Mama pig just lay there with a resigned look on her face while her progeny pushed and shoved for a choice spot to nurse. And it was at that moment, as I was watching that wriggling mass of cuteness, that I started to think.

Worrying About Mama

I had been told by my veterinarian husband that pigs are smart, and I began to wonder what happens to mama pig when the piglets grow big enough to sell. I was worrying about mama pig’s emotional health after her babies are gone. Will she be depressed? Will she be anxious? Yes, I was worrying that mama pig might start to feel the effects of being an empty nester. Unfortunately, it got worse when I opened my mouth to earnestly ask the 4H kid tasked with watching the baby animal barn, “When the babies are taken away, is the sow depressed? Is there anything done to help her?” I was in fact asking whether there was some sort of mental health program for newly childless mother pigs.

At that moment, many things happened at once. The 4H kid’s mouth fell open in astonishment as she answered, “Uh…no.” My sweet sister- in-law, knowing that no one in this farming community would have had the least idea of what I was talking about, started shaking her head back and forth as she mouthed, “No, no, no don’t ask that question!” The whole scene ended with the 4H kid asking me, “Are you from around here?”

Was I from around there? Obviously, I was not. But, as an unremarkable looking middle-aged white woman, you could not tell just by looking at me that I wasn’t from Elkhart County. However, that all changed when I asked what I considered a perfectly logical question. From the moment, I spoke, everyone in that barn knew I wasn’t from “around here.” They knew that I was an outsider who didn’t quite belong.

It became evident that my life experiences and the life experiences of many of the folks who attended the fair were in many ways vastly different. In this case, the differences were in how animals are viewed.

I live in the Cleveland suburbs where my small terrier Oliver sleeps every night nestled close to me under the sheets. I do not live in a farming community where farm animals are not seen as pets. They are, in fact, an important part of the local economy.

What Determines Who Fits In?

How interesting that the smallest of differences can determine whether one fits in or doesn’t fit in, although I do think that the absolute masters in identifying differences in one another are middle school kids. They have an amazing ability to zero in on the tiniest of details, and without a backward glance, cast out those deemed unacceptable. Ultimately, it’s often the school cafeteria where you can see the school pecking order in action, and I bet every single kid in any cafeteria in the United States could point to the table where the most popular kids sit. And it is at that table where you can find the bastion of middle school coolness and swag. It is the “cool kid’s table.”

Scientists have long recognized that belonging is a universal human need. In fact, I have heard the story of a small, impoverished village in Africa, where the villagers literally had nothing to give those who visited. When you visited this village, you could not expect a meal and sometimes not even a glass of water, so the women of the village gave the only thing they could. They “made room” for everyone. They gave the gift of belonging to every single person who came to their village.

Jesus too “made room” for everyone. His ministry centered around inviting everyone into His sphere of acceptance and belonging. Are you a tax collector? Come on in! Are you a prostitute? Welcome! Do you sleep next to your dog and do you worry about a mother pig’s mental health? There is room for you too! Does your pet dog sleep in a doghouse outside, and do you worry about keeping your farm solvent? Definitely, come on in!

The Ultimate Cool Kid’s Table

I suppose for Christians, the communion table could be seen as the ultimate “cool kid’s table”- communion cool. Except, unlike middle school, everyone is welcome and no one is turned away. And just like any family anywhere in the world who sits around the dinner table, the Family of God sits together at the communion table as the whole, unruly lot of us laugh and argue and talk and yell and share, as we feast on the bread of life and the cup of salvation.

You might wonder if I sat at the “cool kid’s table” during my school years. I did not. But, I definitely sit at the “cool kid’s table” now.

Download a pdf including the Reflection Questions to share and discuss with friends, family, or members of your faith community small group.

For Reflection (either individually or with a group)

Read the blog. Read it a second time, maybe reading it aloud or asking someone else to read it aloud so you can hear it with different intonation and emphases. Invite the Divine to open your heart to allow the light of new understanding to pierce the shadows of embedded assumptions, stereotypes, and ways of thinking so that you may live more abundantly.

• Do you remember a time when you felt like an “outsider” who didn’t quite belong?
• In middle school, did you sit at or near the cool kid’s table? How did it feel to sit where you did?
• Does Jesus make room for you? Say more beyond yes or no.

The post Sitting at the Cool Kid’s Table appeared first on United Church Homes.

Flying downhill on Baby Blue, I could clearly see ahead and knew exactly where I was going. The path was clear and certain. My life was also clear and certain as I reveled in my roles as wife, mother and nurse. Coasting down that hill on Baby Blue, I knew exactly who I was and where my place was in God’s realm. And, it was during that time of having such clarity of purpose in my life that I began to have tingling and numbness in my right leg, and it wasn’t long after that that I was diagnosed with multiple sclerosis. I was 39 years old.

It felt as though one minute I was riding downhill on Baby Blue laughing with the wind in my hair, and the next moment my tire had hit a large stone, causing me to crash and leaving me broken and bloodied. Getting that MS diagnosis absolutely gutted me, and I remember looking in the mirror and feeling confused. On the outside, I looked the same as always which seemed laughable; on the inside I felt like I had shattered into a million pieces. How, I wondered, could my brokenness not be visible? And, in my brokenness, the clarity of purpose I had in my life shattered as well. My life had gone from clear technicolor to gray haze.

The Relentless, Soul-Crushing Fatigue

In the beginning, my time was taken up by learning to live with my new physical reality. Although I didn’t look sick, my neurologist assured me that I had a moderate to large lesion load in my brain and spinal cord. Besides right-sided weakness, which caused me to drag my right foot when I was tired, my primary symptom was and still is fatigue – Oh, the relentless, life-sucking, soul-crushing fatigue.

But, over the years, I have adjusted my life in many ways so that I can actually have a life, and, although it took time to organize my life around the fatigue and weakness, it was the unseen feeling of brokenness that cut me to my core.

Shortly after 9/11, I watched a news program about suicide bombers, and they proceeded to wheel out a suicide bomber who actually lived through the blast. This man could no longer walk, and his hands were scarred and missing fingers. And, then there was his face. His face was so injured that it hardly looked human. I stared at this damaged disabled man and I thought…that’s me. That’s exactly how broken I felt on the inside, and I had absolutely no idea how to fix it. At that point, the purpose and meaning of my life completely shifted to trying to “fix” my feelings of brokenness. I was truly haunted by it, and I was stuck.

Feelings of Brokenness

Until I attended to these feelings of brokenness, I knew that my life could not move forward. The question was, how? How do you “fix” feeling broken? I spoke to a counselor as well as the many wise people in my life, to no avail. In the end, it was a retreat that changed everything.

At the time, I was a parish nurse for a local church, and I had organized a retreat with local hospice pastor Chuck Behrans. The retreat was humming right along when, as I was sitting in a semicircle with a dozen parishioners, Chuck proceeded to whip out a nice dinner plate and put it into a paper bag. He then took out a hammer. We all gasped. No! He wouldn’t just smash a perfectly good….bam, bam, bam! Down went the hammer on that paper bag with that very nice dinner plate tucked inside. He then picked up the bag and you could hear the broken pieces of the plate clinking together as they fell to the bottom. I just sat wide-eyed when he asked, “How in the world do you fix this brokenness?”

My hand shot up and with some desperation in my voice said, “Yes, how do you fix the brokenness?” Chuck just smiled serenely and said, “You can’t.” You can’t?! I almost let out a tiny moan of despair before Chuck said, “No, you can’t fix this plate, it’s far too broken.” He then put aside the paper bag holding the shattered plate and reached behind him. Suddenly a brand new plate appeared and Chuck said, “You must use a new plate. You must become new.”

Oh…… Of course, the answer was there all along. “Therefore, if anyone is in Christ, the new creation has come: the old has gone, the new is here!” (2 Corinthians 5:17).

You Must Become New

I instantly felt a sense of relief. Of course, my MS had not gone anywhere. My lesion load and my symptoms of fatigue and weakness were also the same. So, what changed? What changed is that I had been reminded that at my essence, my soul was of God; it is and always will be intact and unblemished. In other words, my body has MS, but my soul does not.

That revelation helped me to process my MS in an entirely new way. Once I no longer felt broken, I was able to claim that my soul has and always will shine just like new with God’s light. I was finally able to look forward instead of staring into the abyss of my pain. And, as I allowed God’s Light to shine, it began to illuminate the path in front of me as I started to reimagine my life’s purpose as a person who has MS. Soon, I began to feel like I did flying downhill on Baby Blue, laughing with the wind in my hair, but also secure in the knowledge that I am and always will be a new creation!

To learn more about purpose and meaning for your like and how to begin preparing for retiring even prior to finishing your primary career, join us in person or online for the 2024 Abundant Aging Symposium, Purpose, Meaning and Redefining Retirement on October 4^th. Discounts on registration before September 9^th.

For Reflection (either individually or with a group)

Read the blog. Read it a second time, maybe reading it aloud or asking someone else to read it aloud so you can hear it with different intonation and emphases. Invite the Divine to open your heart to allow the light of new understanding to pierce the shadows of embedded assumptions, stereotypes, and ways of thinking so that you may live more abundantly. Then spend some time with the following questions together with anything or anyone who helps you reflect more deeply.

• Have you had an experience that made you feel like you were broken into a million tiny pieces? Say a little bit about it.
• How did that experience change your daily life?
• What are some ways you can re-connect with your unbroken soul?

Download a pdf including the Reflection Questions to share and discuss with friends, family, or members of your faith community small group.

The post A New Creation appeared first on United Church Homes.

I wish I could say that our decision to stop using pesticides in our yard had something to do with wanting to embrace the biodiversity of our backyard and keep it as healthy as possible, but that would be giving us too much credit. In fact, after we signed on the dotted line and paid our money, we promptly forgot about it. But then as the summer wore on, one evening we noticed little dots of blinking lights. We had fireflies! 

A Chemical-Free Yard 

Sadly, it had been a few years since we had seen fireflies in our yard, which I’m sure had everything to do with the chemicals we had been using. But seeing how mother nature had rallied after treating her with a little more kindness, we excitedly continued to make our yard an open and affirming space to critters of all kinds.  

John planted milkweed to attract monarch butterflies and started keeping leafcutter and mason bees to promote pollination. Our yard is now home to abundant vegetation, from butterfly bushes to vegetables to roses to dandelions–for without weed-killing chemicals, we have more weeds too! 

And with five birdfeeders spread throughout our backyard, birds of all kinds visit and nest in our yard. But sharing our space with our flora and fauna friends isn’t always easy and even, at times, requires a bit of sacrifice. Two years ago, in late spring, we had three nests in the eaves of the awning covering our patio. Each nest was filled with tiny eggs that  were diligently cared for by their busy parents.  

Just as the warmer weather had the birds busy building nests and caring for their progeny to come, the warmer weather had also brought us out to prepare our patio for the summer. We looked forward to leisurely meals with friends, reading a book in our cozy wicker furniture, or simply sitting quietly to enjoy watching the hummingbirds lapping up nectar or monarch butterflies alighting on one of the flowers in our wildflower patch.  

The first step in our patio prep was always cleaning the patio floor which was utterly filthy after the long winter and spring. Each year it required me to get down on my hands and knees to scrub. It is a backbreaking job.  Ah, but that year was to be different; John was going to use our brand-new power-sprayer to clean our grimy patio floor. This meant no more hands or knees, no more scrubbing and no more back pain. I was thrilled and left John to take care of things. 

We Have a Problem 

However, it wasn’t long before John came in the house and announced, “We have a problem.”  John explained that the power sprayer was so loud that the birds will likely leave and not come back, leaving their progeny to fend for themselves. John’s question was, “Should I continue?”  And as I imagined myself on my hands and knees scrubbing that disgusting floor, my first thought was, ”I just can’t face scrubbing that floor.” Even more horrifying, my second thought was, “Oh well, the birds will just have to deal with it.” 

Yes, in that moment, I was willing for John to clean our patio floor using the power sprayer. It would have surely disturbed the birds nesting in our awning to the point they would likely have abandoned their nests and the babies in them.  You might think that I am exaggerating what my actual thoughts were at the time. But shamefully, I am not exaggerating. I was trying in any way possible to avoid the onerous task of scrubbing that patio floor, and I would justify it however I could. 

My response made me think of the villain Cruella De Vil of the animated Disney movie “101 Dalmatians.” Unable to buy a litter of recently born dalmatian puppies, Cruella plans to kidnap the pups to ultimately kill them for their coats. When talking of killing the puppies Cruella bellows, ”Poison them! Drown them!  Bash them in the head! I don’t care how you do it!”  

I, however,  had no plans to be like Cruella De Vil. I wanted our little birds to hatch and to thrive. I wanted to see them grow up to eat at our birdfeeders and bathe in our birdbath. Needless to say, the next day found me on my hands and knees scrubbing our patio floor. 

Caring for Our Whole Planet 

This reality is not only true in our tiny speck of a backyard but also for our entire planet. Do we want fireflies and monarch butterflies or not?  What are we willing to do to create environments where baby birds can grow up and thrive?  What are we willing to do to decrease carbon emissions, breathe clean air, drink clean water? Are we willing to be inconvenienced and put in the extra effort it will take to make that possible? 

So far, it seems, we are not. I think that my little backyard bird story is a good example of how easily we can go down the road of pettiness and blithely throw those who are smaller and weaker under the bus. Or we can decide to put God’s creation first. But, as I found out, when you decide to put the health and well-being of God’s creation first–whether you are talking about each of us as individuals or all of us collectively—we must be willing to be flexible and change how things are done. It can take more work and time and cost more money.  

The inconvenient truth is that, for us to have the thrill of seeing hundreds of blinking lights on a warm summer’s evening, or to marvel at the grace of a monarch butterfly, or to experience the fun of watching a fledgling learning to fly, we sometimes must get down on our hands and knees and scrub the patio floor.  

For Reflection (either individually or with a group) 

Read the blog. Read it a second time, maybe reading it aloud or asking someone else to read it aloud so you can hear it with different intonation and emphases. Invite the Divine to open your heart to allow the light of new understanding to pierce the shadows of embedded assumptions, stereotypes, and ways of thinking so that you may live more abundantly. Then spend some time with the following questions together with anything or anyone who helps you reflect more deeply. 

• What is your favorite summertime memory/story? 
• What makes that memory so special? 
• Do any of your summertime memories connect to your understanding of caring for our planet? Why or why not? 

The post Fireflies, Butterflies and Birds appeared first on United Church Homes.

Grandma was a lifelong Mennonite, and I doubt she missed many Sundays at church. I never heard her talk about God or Jesus, but it was clear when you met her and by her every word and action that she was a woman of faith. She was a woman I wanted to emulate, and we named our daughter Elizabeth Mabel after her. Then in 1996, at 99 years old, Grandma died – for the second time.

Grandma’s First Death

The first time Grandma died was in 1922 after her second child George was born. After the birth, she became quite ill with what was called “childbirth fever.” She was so ill that at one point, the doctors called her family to the hospital to say their goodbyes. It was at this point that she remembers suddenly leaving her body, looking down at herself and the medical staff, and feeling peaceful. She was then given the choice of staying or going back. Very quickly, she chose to go back; she knew she had an infant and toddler who needed her. The next thing she knew, she was back in her–very sick–body. It was months before she was well enough to care for her children by herself, but she was never again afraid of death.

Grandma had what we now call a near-death experience, or an NDE. The term “near-death experience” was first used by John C. Lilly in 1972 and popularized in 1975 by Dr. Raymond Moody, a psychiatrist. In his book Life After Life, Moody reported on the study of 150 people who claimed to have had an NDE. Not surprisingly, Dr. Moody’s colleagues were highly critical of his work. Nevertheless, Dr. Moody paved the way for other physicians to begin the study of NDEs. In 2021, psychiatrist Dr. Bruce Greyson, who has dedicated his career to the study of NDEs, published a book called After: A Doctor Explores What Near Death Experiences Reveal about Life and Beyond which I read this past Lent.

I have been fascinated to learn that NDEs aren’t a new phenomenon. There are accounts of NDEs from as far back as the ancient Greeks and Romans, from all the major religious traditions, as well as from the medical literature of the nineteenth and early twentieth centuries. Clearly, Grandma is not unique in having a near-death experience.

Characteristics of Near-Death Experiences

Of course, I have read of near-death experiences, which might include feeling surrounded by a bright light, being able to look down on your body, or feeling at peace. But that’s about it. Dr. Greyson’s decades of research have shown that there are many other common characteristics of NDEs. Some of these characteristics such as feeling a sense of harmony with the universe, experiencing a life review or encountering a mystical being or religious figure did not surprise me. But other experiences, such as the feeling of time and of thoughts speeding up, were entirely new to me. I’ve always thought that even though we can’t really know what happens after we die, these accounts might actually be giving us a glimpse into the hereafter.

NDE After-Effects

However, I think what has fascinated me the most about Dr. Greyson’s research is what he has found out regarding the after-effects of these experiences. Dr. Greyson writes, “There is one thing about which I am certain, about which the evidence is overwhelming – and that is the effect of NDEs on people’s attitudes, beliefs and values. If you take only one thing from this book, I would want you to appreciate the transformative power of these experiences to change people’s lives.”

A common after-effect of an NDE is the change in attitude toward death. Like Grandma Breneman, many who experienced an NDE found they no longer feared death. Even more interestingly, losing the fear of death often meant losing the fear of life. In other words, an NDE emboldened the experiencer to live life to the fullest. Other interesting after-effects were complete changes in what was important in life. A thirty-six-year-old policeman says, “I was a no-nonsense hard-nosed cop. My NDE changed all that. I left the hospital a completely different man.” He found he could no longer tolerate violence so he quit the police force and retrained as a high school teacher. Dr. Greyson found that a complete change in career and life focus is not at all unusual after an NDE.

In general, experiencers of NDEs found themselves more other-oriented, more compassionate, and less interested in money and material things; this sounds an awful lot like the point Jesus makes in his parables and with the example of His life. It also sounds like the kind of life Grandma Breneman led.

As for Grandma Breneman, I imagine that her NDE did not change the trajectory of her life: bringing up children, nurturing her marriage, and being active in her church community. What I don’t know is how her experience may have changed her inner self. She never spoke to me about her near-death experience, but did talk about it with my husband as well as other family members, and seemed perfectly comfortable doing so.

I only knew her in the twilight of her life when she was beginning to welcome great-grandchildren. My memories of Grandma were of an energetic woman in her 80s and 90s with white hair who loved and welcomed me wholeheartedly into the family. She lived long enough to hold her namesake, our daughter Elizabeth Mabel, and to see her grow into toddlerhood before Grandma Mabel died – for the second time.

For Reflection (either individually or with a group)

Read the blog. Read it a second time, maybe reading it aloud or asking someone else to read it aloud so you can hear it with different intonation and emphases. Invite the Divine to open your heart to allow the light of new understanding to pierce the shadows of embedded assumptions, stereotypes, and ways of thinking so that you may live more abundantly. Then spend some time with the following questions together with anything or anyone who helps you reflect more deeply.

• Do you know anyone who has had a Near Death Experience? How, if anything, has it changed their life?
• Do you have a fear about dying? Are you afraid of the dying itself or are you afraid of what will happen to you and your body leading up to death?
• Would you like to be more other-oriented, more compassionate, and less interested in money and material things without having an NDE? What one step might you take today to move closer to your goal?

Download a pdf including the Reflection Questions to share and discuss with friends, family, or members of your faith community small group.

The post The Here and the Hereafter appeared first on United Church Homes.

In time, a friend of ours saw a profile of a small terrier named “Sport” in foster care who was looking for a permanent home. There wasn’t much information listed about this little dog and the accompanying photo showed a white, 11-pound short-haired terrier who was a bit homely. Nevertheless, I wanted to meet this little guy. So one Saturday, my husband John, my daughter Lizzy, and I traveled to the local pet store to meet my potential cuddle companion.

Dog Expectations

I was terribly excited to meet “Sport.” I pictured him walking up to me and gently sniffing my hand, then allowing me to pick him up for a snuggle. I was wrong. When “Sport” was set down, he ran away from me and when I picked him up, he tried to bite me. At that point, I must have said, “We’ll take him!” because the next thing I knew I was back in our car, with “Sport” whining and crying in the crate on the backseat.

Now, I promise you that there is no reference anywhere about picking out a new dog that says you should pick the dog that runs from you then tries to bite you. Inexplicably, that is exactly what I did. To this day, I cannot tell you why in the world I chose a dog that so obviously had behavior problems. Within ten minutes of meeting him, we saw that he was a fear biter and was extremely anxious; not a great combo. Nevertheless, he was ours.

Getting Off On the Wrong Paw

We arrived home and immediately changed this little dog’s name to Oliver and began our life together. We quickly found out that Oliver had a trifecta of behavior problems: biting, growling and barking. First and foremost, we had to deal with the biting. Unfortunately, Oliver got off on the wrong paw, so to speak, when he bit my mother in the leg during the very first week we had him. Thankfully, she was fine, but I was mortified. I had never before owned a dog that bites.                                                                                                   

A related problem was the growling. When Oliver sat in my lap he would growl at anyone who got close to me. That, of course, was also not acceptable behavior, so we swung into action to address both the biting and the growling. As my husband John is a veterinarian, he was able to come up with strategies to address both behavior problems which, with much effort, worked to change his behavior. Oliver hasn’t bitten anyone since my poor mother 8 years ago, and he no longer growls at others while sitting in my lap. Unfortunately, we haven’t had as much success with the barking. He barks frequently and although we have found strategies to deal with it, it is still a problem.

Early on in our time with Oliver, when it became abundantly clear that he would require extra work and care, John was lying on our bed with Oliver by his side talking with me about new strategies to address Oliver’s myriad of behavior issues. John suddenly looked Oliver in the eye and said, “You are such a Mr. Poopypants!” It was a perfect nickname. Oliver was a Mr. Poopypants. It has since been shortened to Mr. Poopy and he gets called both Oliver or Mr. Poopy, depending on our mood and his behavior.

Caring Can Be Unbelievably, Soul-suckingly Difficult

When I agreed to take this badly behaved, irritating and frustrating little dog home, I was raising my hand to pour my energy into him and take my time caring for him. I was agreeing to love him despite his unlovable behavior. Sometimes, I think that God asks us to step up to the plate to love someone and care for them, knowing that loving and caring for that individual will be tough and that there may be quite a bit of “barking,” “growling,” and “biting” involved. I often wonder what would have happened to little Oliver if he had landed in another home. His behavior could have easily compelled someone to abuse him.

We are caregivers throughout our lives, whether it is in the raising of our children, caring for a sick or infirm spouse or parent, or caring for our pets. Being a caregiver is often tedious, frustrating, and exhausting even when things go swimmingly. But, when things don’t go swimmingly, it can be unbelievably, soul-suckingly difficult: the toddler throwing a temper tantrum in the middle of the grocery store, the teenager’s eye-rolls and stony silences, the ill & infirm loved one yelling and complaining, and the little white dog growling and biting. Yet we go on caregiving despite the challenges.

I would love to be able to say that Mr. Poopy is now a model dog. He is not. You would think that with all the training and strategizing and working toward making Oliver into his highest self, he would have transformed into a dog worthy of entering the Westminster Dog Show. Although Oliver will never be in a dog show, compared to the dog we brought home eight years ago, he has truly transformed into a much better behaved and happier dog.

In many ways, Oliver is exactly the kind of dog I wanted. He loves to sit on my lap as I watch TV, and at night, and he likes to burrow under the covers and sleep cuddled up next to me; and I do love him. Still, he continues to be an awful lot of work. He is generally irritating and tends to turn people off with his anxieties and his barking. It seems, no matter how transformed he has become, he is still a Mr. Poopy.

For Reflection (either individually or with a group)

Read the blog. Read it a second time, maybe reading it aloud or asking someone else to read it aloud so you can hear it with different intonation and emphases. Invite the Divine to open your heart to allow the light of new understanding to pierce the shadows of embedded assumptions, stereotypes, and ways of thinking so that you may live more abundantly. Then spend some time with the following questions together with anything or anyone who helps you reflect more deeply.

• When have you found it difficult to care for someone?
• What are your strongest gifts as a caregiver?
• How would you like to be a better caregiver? What steps can you take to get closer to that goal?

Download a pdf including the Reflection Questions to share and discuss with friends, family, or members of your faith community small group.

The post Mr. Poopy appeared first on United Church Homes.