Four weeks

Hmmm...Four weeks have passed without marking. No marking on this space. No marking in my journal. Sometimes things just need to bounce between head and heart before they can find their way into words. Things still waiting to be set into words somewhere include an injury for one son followed by surgery...and then, oops, try again, the same surgery one more time; a significant car accident for the other son (from which he walked away) on the day of the other son’s first surgery; a car designated “totaled” by the insurance company...and then, oops, not totaled...and then, oops, totaled... and then, you get the idea; a water heater that burst, gushing water on the evening of the second surgery; the six-month anniversary of my husband losing his job and still looking. But/and on the opposite side of whatever page I set those things into words eventually, these will also have to be set into words: friends that called and emailed and prayed and showed up unasked with a mop to face the gushing water; a sister who brought comfort food (roast beef and mashed potatoes) to come home to after a day of pre-op, op, and post-op; a mom who brought more comfort food (rice pudding); amazing pills to stop the pain of my son’s bone grafts and bone screws; ten days of restoration at my grad school residency; provision, provision.

I’m hoping the next four weeks will be calm and quiet.

The New Guthrie Theatre

Guthrie_1Minneapolis is a city that was born on the Mississippi River. Only in recent years, however, has it started to develop and appreciate that riverfront in ways independent from it historic milling industry. The new Guthrie Theatre is an example, opening just a couple weeks ago on the shores of the Mississippi. Founded in 1963 by Sir Tyrone Guthrie, its original location was just on the other side of downtown. Its new location--a huge building the color of twilight blue--houses three theatres, two restaurants, and a cantilever bridge that utilizes the equivalent high-strength steel of two Eiffel Towers.

Click here for a panoramic view of the Mississippi riverfront from the cantilever bridge. Click here for more views and info.

Guthrie053_1We walked through it last weekend, not as patrons but as tourists. It's an incredible experience to see your city of many years from a new perspective. From the outside the building looks industrial and all sealed up but on the inside it is elegant with windows everywhere. The windows are lined with mirrors so with every turn of the head there is a new view and streams of light.

Here's a little known fact about Minneapolis: It has more live theatre seats per capita than any US city other than New York City.

Surprise Child

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My 19-year-old son looked a bit troubled when he picked up a book from my reading stack. “Uh...[long pause]...why are you reading a book on unexpected pregnancy?” he asked. I quickly put his mind at ease that no, he was not going to be getting a new baby brother or sister. The book he picked up was Suprise Child: Finding Hope in Unexpected Pregnancy. I’m reading it because it is the latest book by my amazing writing advisor, Leslie Leyland Fields. I’ve been so grateful to be under the tutelage of Fields this past year in my graduate program at Seattle Pacific. She writes beautifully from a rich pool of wisdom and experience and has been so generous in sharing what she knows of the craft.

Fields is the mother of six children, the last two being unexpected pregnancies in her early and mid forties. Surprise Child is an honest look at the difficulty of these pregnancies, as well as the hope and joy that emerged from them. The book, published by Waterbrook Press, contains not only her stories of unplanned pregnancy, however, but the stories of nearly forty women whom she interviewed.

I’ve now finished reading Surprise Child and found encouragement transferrable to issues even outside of pregnancy. In this passage she writes about carrying on with being pregnant in the midst of other simultaneous difficulties:

Each of us wanted calm, an orderly life, an uncomplicated pregnancy. Wasn’t it enough that we were making room for another child without all the rest, all the other crises and disruptions? Weren’t we giving away enough already? I don’t know if anyone can answer the why of this, why some are asked to carry so much. But every woman I know and met kept going, kept getting up in the morning, kept dressing and eating and growing her baby as she walked through each day.

 

Carrying on is like the paradox of birth itself--the bearing down each day with a ferocity you didn’t know you possessed, and with it also the letting go, suspending full knowledge, full sight, full understanding of all that is happening. This is sometimes simply a walk by faith: faith that there is a higher purpose than you can see at the moment, faith that the Maker of all life has not made a mistake, no matter what you’re feeling, faith that the One who called you to this work will suppy what you need. And it is a walk by knowledge--this even more sure than faith--that in carrying this child you are giving her or him the chance to be. Without being what else matters?

 

Do you see the immensity of what you are doing? Carry on.

Do you see how that passage could apply to each of us at some time or another, regardless of pregnancy? Even so, she is telling her story and the stories of these other women to offer hope to women in the midst of an unexpected pregnancy. In addition to the book’s main text, Fields also offers reader’s guides for individuals/groups or couples, as well as a resource section. Additional resources may be found on the book's website.

In addition to teaching in the MFA program at Seattle Pacific University, Fields also teaches creative writing at the University of Alaska. In the summertime, she works with her family in commercial salmon fishing. Other books by Leslie Leyland Fields include Surviving the Island of Grace, Out on the Deep Blue, The Entangling Net, and The Water Under Fish. Check out her website at www.leslie-leyland-fields.com.

Naming what's around

I've been reading some Annie Dillard (a favorite) and Mary Oliver essays. One thing that strikes me is how much time spent in observation goes into any single paragraph. Another thing that strikes me is their ability to name the things around them. In the June issue of The Sun magazine there is a quote by Terry Tempest Williams, "Perhaps the most radical thing we can do is to stay home, so we can learn the names of the plants and animals around us; so that we can begin to know what tradition we're part of."

There is a creek one block from my house and I don't know what swims in it or what grows alongside it. Not that I don't look when I walk there but I don't stop to study and name. Likewise, in my own backyard I couldn't name all that grows.

I'm often awakened in the dark middle of the night (around 3:30 a.m.) by a chorus of birds. Loud and full. Boistrous even. The sun is still hours from rising so I can't imagine that this is their greet-the-day song. I took Williams' advice and set to figuring out which of the many types of birds that live in the canopy of trees around my house this could be. I went online and found sites that played calls. My conclusion: The choir is made up of the humble robin. Listen here. Do you hear a choir such as this coming in your windows at night?

Backyard prayer

"Can I focus for a moment on the center of my life?"

This was the first question asked on today's audio devotional from the British Jesuits.

Just this morning I realized that my wireless connection extends out well into my backyard. So under the planes (which fly low by my house) and the birds and the spruce trees I sat with my laptop and listened. The music, reading, and meditation were beautiful. Plus there's something to be said for that combination of nature and technology: airplanes, laptop, birds, wireless connection, spruce trees, mp3, Psalms.

Rhubarb muffins

Rhubarb_1The rhubarb my neighbor planted for me two seasons ago is dense with stalks just begging to be baked into treats. I picked some last week and made two batches of rhubarb muffins, using my cousin Vicky's recipe, which I see she has now posted on her blog, "A Portable Pinewood." If you have rhubarb growing in your yard, or packaged in the produce aisle at your local market, maybe bake a batch. Last year I posted a recipe for strawberry rhubarb cobbler, which is another good destination for rhubarb.