Uphill idealist

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

Give the comfort of presence,  resting gently alongside and with. Notice the warm sun streaming through a window  to reveal the joyful shadow dance of tree leaves on the carpet at my feet. Eat a meal, simple and humble, that is a feast for body and soul. Share space. Give weight to ground me. Look deep into my eyes. Know me fully and still long to know more. This is my faithful friend.   Sometimes they walk on two feet and often they walk on four. Copyright 2019 T.L. Eastman

“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. 

A few days ago, a friend told me a story about how in ancient times, leaders of a household would light a lantern at night so that people could move about the home safely. The images  I imagined were something like a three wick candle I might find at a gift shop or even  a red lantern I'd find in the camping section of a box store. But as she explained the type of lantern that these early peoples would have used, what came to mind was that looked like a botched pottery project. These lanterns were made of clay, formed into a bowl to hold the oil and one end was pinched into a narrow spout for a cloth wick to rest. Not only would this kind of ancient lantern not give off a ton of light, required the carrier to walk slowly as to not spill the oil, The lantern bearer had to take their time and travel one dimly illuminated step at a time. In Psalm 119: 105, the Psalmist who would have had personal experience with these ancient lamps writes...  "Your word is a lamp to my...

As I was cleaning up my kitchen table after confectionery preparations for a party, I was struck by the persistence of the golden nonpareils that had been used to decorate cake pops. In my efforts to gather up all these tiny, sweet candies; I was reminded of friends of mine that while my husband and I were away for our honeymoon, had taken it into their hands to "decorate" our place with confetti on the ceiling fan, jello in the bathtub and (of course) nonpareils sprinkled all through my underwear drawer. For months, years and several moves later - the top drawer of that dresser made light tapping noises that were the never ending reminder of the permanence of nonpareils released to the wild of what we know as "life". Nonpareils while tasty (which may be their only redeeming quality) are much like glitter in their ability to stick around EVERYWHERE. While I enjoy glitter for it's light catching glimmer, it also has the same ability to resist containment....

It may sound dramatic for one to say a poem can save a life. But, for me, I believe it to be true, because... In the aftermath of grief, a poem was there. In the celebration of new life, a poem was there. In the mists of confusion, a poem was there. In the waves of wonder, a poem was there. The lines might not have rhymed, but seldom a good poem does. Nevertheless, the poems held up a light to my darkness, gave me strength for what could be, and gave me room to dance - when no dancing was allowed. So welcome the drama, embrace the muse, put on those dancing shoes... this is poetry after all. Can a poem save a life? I'm writing. I'm breathing. I'm dreaming. A poem saved my life. Copyright December 2018 T.L. Eastman

The greatest of the four weeks of Advent into Christmas is here: love. With all the hope waking, peace-making and joy breaking, We need the glue of love to make this stick. Please stick. More than paper on packages with packing tape, But something that goes beyond the surface of things  And fills the darkest corners of us with lasting love. I don't want these gifts of hope, peace, joy and love to disappear like grandma's frosted sugar cookies. But if they had to be consumed, hope, peace, joy and love would empower us to live out actions …like the making of many snow angels; when we abandon everything else  and surrender to love that stays. Please stay love,  I don't want you to melt like snow drifts above 35 degrees.... be crumpled like old gift wrapping... or abandoned on the curb like a used Christmas tree. Christ’s light has grown. Five candles are lit. Illuminating  our way with hope, peace, joy and the greatest: Love. One candle for hope...