Uphill idealist

The collection of treasure on my windowsill might not look like treasure to someone else, but it is treasure to me.  I see a plaque that a family member gave me over 10 years ago to announce news of the grandhuman.  I see a freshly transplanted plant, that I nurtured from tiny cuttings on a greenhouse visit.  I see an adorable mushroom planter I found at Citiot on vaca that was a perfect home for my baby plant. I see a handmade pog-chip affirming all-body positivity created by Borderline Normal . Our vision sometimes needs an adjustment to see the treasure right before us.  What treasure do you see around/in you today?

“Yaya, I chose this table to sit at because I know you love sunflowers and Van Gogh.”  What a gift to be known and loved. My grandhuman is especially gifted at noticing and celebrating the things they know about the people they love. May your day be blessed with being known, loved and remembered.  Do you have a story of being remembered? Share it in the comments.

What can painted rocks do?  This was my question in May as I was considering what mini community art project to engage with this summer.  In time, I decided to start with rock painting for its accessibility and simplicity adding the #loverocks and #fpcjtn   Since June over 100 rocks have been painted by an over 50 people. Some of the rocks are in the garden at church - others all over Jamestown. Some well beyond Chautauqua County.  But yesterday morning I witnessed a moment that clarified why I’ve been lugging all these rocks around.  A grandmother and grandchild walked past a garden and paused to look at the colorful rocks, they smiled, they made a good memory and continued their walk, carrying a bit of joy with them.  This is the whole point. Share love. Share joy. Take it with you. We need it.  Thanks be for painted rocks. 

  I was around six-years-old when I first went to sleep-away summer camp.  At the time I lived in PA and the camp (through my church) was in Ohio. All school year, I attended Sunday School faithfully partially because regular attendance allowed my family scholarships to help with the cost of Summer Camp. Over the school year, I attended most Sunday's and by the end of the year, my little coupon book was full of stamps - providing me with a scholarship to attend a camp session. I provide this background on how I first got to go to camp, because it is an essential part of explaining what Summer Camp meant (and means) to me.   Going away to Summer Camp gave me a whole new experience of community. The whole process of going to and attending was the first times I experienced, "it takes a village", personally. From the Sunday School Teachers who drove a sedan full of kids to Ohio, to the counselors and staff who supported new campers: through the first 48 hours of homesick...

It's important for you to know, that I hate to clean out my wallet. While I love to see it all organized and tidy, the process of un-stuffing and sorting is at the bottom of my list of "things I like to do." However, in the process of un-stuffing my wallet I found something of beauty. I came across a purple crayon. This purple crayon. Yes at first it reminded me of the kid's story, "Harold and the purple crayon" , and then it reminded me of a friend who always stops to take photos of every purple flower she finds.  Hold that thought.  Every. Purple. Flower. Is. Something. To. Take. Note. Of. So when I took the purple crayon out of my wallet. I thought of Harold's Crayon. Then Elle's purple flowers. The purple iris's I saw on a nature walk this week. Every. Purple. Something. Is. Something. To. Take. Note. Of. Purple beauty is everywhere. There is beauty all around us, that hides in plan sight. Crayons are stuffed in...

Grow where you are planted... This photo was taken 4 years ago today, while in interviews to be approved for Ordination. I knew that day that things were not going well and that I was going to face some difficult criticism. At the end of the day my gifts for ministry were affirmed, but the team determined for me to have experience in a new context and I was told I would serve a vicar year away from home.  In the matter of a day, my whole world seemed to chan ge and the emotions of that moment are still palpable today. However, God in all God’s mystery, love and mercy was with me through all of it...even the ugly crying, wandering and coming through the challenges of a call to a new place. These purple flowers breaking through the cement are still a reminder today that God is present in all things, in all times.  God is with you.  Remember this today.   # gratitudematters

“Chloe, how big is your family?” Points to her family and counts.. “1, 2, 3 aaannnndddd...” “Four”, I say and point to her. She smiles. “Ok Chloe, how many people are in God’s family?”  Without delay she says, “All the people!” Yes Chloe, God’s family is for all people.