Uphill idealist

In 1995 I had a miscarriage of pregnancy surrounding the Thanksgiving holiday.  I was almost four months along, but on going to my first sonogram appointment it was discovered that there was no heartbeat and the pregnancy was not viable. For the days to come, I went through some serious medical risks and ended up having to go through labor to deliver the baby that I'd never really know. While I grieved the loss of my unborn child, I was thankful that my own life had been spared -  but some guilt remained for having survived it. Today this child would be almost 20 years old. I do not know its gender. To this day I have a tiny little knit hat tucked into the top drawer of my dresser as a means of remembering this little life.  That November, I never named this child, but somehow it seems right today to give this child it's name - Courage. For the losses we live through and the loved ones we miss, we move on in courage and hope. Today marks the a...

There are times in life that require some pause. There is news that hits too close to home. There is a darkness that does it's best to remove all memory we have of the light. Today was one of those days. With the death of a mentor and friend and terrible news concerning a colleague's family member... there is too much darkness. In the midst of the darkness, we lit candles, we sang hymns, we anointed heads with oil and laid hands on in a time of prayer and healing. Today was dark, but the darkness does not have the last word. The sun will rise. Hope is hiding around the corner. The light is coming - and this light is the grace and mercy of Jesus Christ - who knows suffering  and continues to walk with us. Thanks be to God... Rest in peace dear Phyllis - I would never have stepped onto this path without your faith in me.   Photo Credit: Teresa Hooper

That moment is frozen in a space that is beyond time or a running pace. It's impact hit and ran ongoing tremors though every day that I wake. Image of Berlin Ice People exhibit found at Pinterest I'd like to remove it and live apart from that spring of sadness with its hurt of heart. I'd like to ignore it but it keeps turning up, like Impossible glitter on a brow or undefined residue in a cup. It can't be un-lived. It is what it was. It should be long gone, but it lingers in every pause. It stings like lemon juice in a paper cut. It's not a mortal wound, but one that I've had quite enough. If I could take hold of that moment I'd move it out into the sun; to see what comes of it's unfreezing and perhaps find it transformed into a helpless puddle - now on the run. Unfrozen and melted may this moment be, so that tomorrow at sun rise I'll be set free. T.L. Eastman Copyright September 2015

Image found at Oregon Idaho UM Conference There is a great deal of power in a name. At birth we are given a name by our parents and that becomes an identifier of who we are. It’s the means of getting our attention, engaging us to participate and giving us a place to interact with others in community. When we have a name, we have a place in a family, at school or work. Our names become a vehicle of interacting with people. Even after death, our names remain to be a point of connection and blessing that carries on well beyond our lifetime. On this day of the Saints, we honor and remember those that have died and can take encouragement from their lives of faith in God. Their lives and our lives are a tapestry woven together by God’s grace and love; in the joys and the sorrows of life. Our names give us a place in this world, but not all of the places and experiences of life initially feel like blessing. Martin Luther speaks of the tension of living with the effect of sin, as Chris...

This yellow leaf,  once was green with promise. It was connected, nourished, and alive. Hints of the fall were all around: Crisp evenings, rushing winds, and shorter days. But this yellow leaf fell in silence.  There was no sound as she surrendered to the swirling water. Her story was not collected, heaped up or leaped into. She twirled,  calmly, quietly and silently; so as not to cause a stir on the surface. But the space she left behind was deep, wide, and shouted of her absence. Yellow leaf had curly raven hair, ice blue eyes, fair skin and freckles - that showed themselves when you stood close. Silence should not claim your life. So today, I shared the story of your death and the dream of our goodbye  that gave me hope to keep on living. Yellow leaf,  no more will you float in silence. You should dance on the wind,  swirl dramatically into your favorite wood, and be swept up over and over again:  for leaping,  laughter...

So once upon a time, there was this kid who thought nothing they did was right, mattered or did anything but cause problems. This kid was sometimes called a boat rocker. It's not like this kid, we'll call him Joe, ran the streets or anything. It's just that 'Joe' always had a question, thought about things in ways others didn't, and had a hard time with algebra. These differences were just enough to place Joe in that space of being, or thinking he was an outsider. There was a time in Joe's family that was really difficult. His sister had died after a long illness and had left the family numb and grieving. His sister was a great person. She was always kind, never a challenge and even though she had trouble with math too - she was so genuinely good, most people never noticed. Months had passed after his sister's death, and Joe came to the point in his grief that he wondered why he, the boat-rocker, had not been the one to be taken. Since his sister's d...