The Blessing of the Crone: Beyond talk of Motherhood

As the heat was turned up here in the Pacific Northwest today, we turned our calendars to the month of May.  It is a month that I greet with mixed emotions.  I have for many years now.

Walking into the stores, turning on the television, browsing the status feeds on Facebook or unfolding the weekly paper, we are greeted with reminders that the day is quickly approaching when we will celebrate those who are able to conceive and give birth.  I am well aware that this day, this month, this holiday has different meaning for different people.  I know the history and the way the day has taken shape in recent years.

For many, Mother's Day is a time of celebration.  For some a time of grief.  For others a day that brings up difficult memories and shines light on unhealed wounds.  For some it is a reminder of how far along the journey towards healing they have already come.  For many it is a day of remembrance, reconciliation and pondering.  For me, it is blend of all of the above.

This evening I joined a group of women to discuss a book by Marion Woodman -- Dancing in the Flames: the Dark Goddess in the Transformation of Consciousness.  One thread of the conversation examined the striking differences between how our elder women were viewed in ancient societies, (and are still in some cultures today) and how they have been viewed by western society over the years.  Woodman uses the term "crone"  reaching deep into our collective consciousness to retrieve an ancient definition -- a wise woman, in the midst of reconnecting to the earth, to nature, to the Divine, to herself and to all of humanity.  I was blessed to find myself in the midst of a group of wise, elder women, several of whom have embraced the term crone with gusto as a term referring to themselves.

I am deeply grateful for this elder age group.  While many of my contemporaries, and those within a decade of me on either side, are wrapped up in the world of mothering, the crones and I are in a similar state of being.  We are both in the realm of self-examination.  We find ourselves contemplating and redefining old dreams.

In some ways, between my the miscarriages of my children over a decade ago, and my thirteen years as a nanny, I feel a bit like my years of "mothering" have drawn to a close, despite my age.  That season of life is not a present reality.  I have much more in common with the women with silver hair than I have in common with my own age group.

Although my heart sometimes still aches for the season of mothering, I am finding myself more and more content to simply be.  I am in an in-between time.  And I am thankful for the women who have come before me. I am thankful for the communion of the wonderful crones.

Beloved,

You know my heart of hearts, my internal wrestling, and the stretching that has come in my identity over the last decade.  I offer all that I am, and all that I desire, to the wisdom of Your competent hands.  I trust that You will continue shaping, stretching and molding me in every stage of life.  

Thank You for the presence of precious crones in my life.  Thank you for the comfort that they bring.  Thank You for their wisdom.  Thank You for the way they reflect Your light.  You shine through their hearts, their eyes and their silver hair.  When they speak, I hear Your voice.  For all of these gifts, the blessings of the crones, I am deeply grateful.

Lamentations, Lazarus and Life

On this, the fourth day without our precious Camille-cat, my thoughts turn to Lazarus.

He's four-day-ish.  Voices from the past echo through the centuries.  He's begun to decay; the smell will be terrible.  He's without the hope of life again.  He is completely untouchable.  He is truly dead.

Deep grief overwhelms me as I see in my mind's eye the dear woman, a beloved disciple of Jesus, collapsing into a heap on the roadside.  Jesus has just returned from ministry in another town.  He has been healing the sick, feeding the hungry, returning the lost to their families, and in the midst of his ministry elsewhere, his beloved second family has been overcome with the grief of death.

Lord, if you had been here, my beloved family member, whom you yourself loved, would not have died!  The words of Lazarus' sister resonate deeply in my heart today.  Why were you so far away?!

My tears of lament this morning mirror my soul-sister's from so long ago.  Enough to cloud my vision, but not yet enough to leave the dry salt stains on my cheeks, my tears instead turn to aches and pains.  My muscles and joints feel weak this morning as I sit on the back patio watching our elder cat exploring the world without her little sister.  My heart and stomach feel heavy today.

Lord, if only...
Lord, if only...
Oh, Lord...

When we are weak and do not know to pray,

the Spirit steps in and articulates prayers for us

with groaning too profound for words.

(Rom. 8:26)

Fire, Ashes, Prayer & Healing on Ash Wednesday

Today I had a different experience with the imposition of ashes than I have for several years.  The words spoken with the ashes were not of mortality and returning to the earth.  Instead, as the sign of the cross was drawn upon me, these words were spoken:  "Hear the Gospel and believe."

Photo by Trista Wynne

The Gospel -- the Good News, dear ones, is that we will not be separated for long by the chasm of death.  We will all be together once more on account of the birth, life, death and resurrection of our Beloved, the Christ.  The Good News, dear ones, is that the whole world, which now aches and groans in pain and brokenness, will be filled with peace, love, new life and wholeness.  There will be no more death, no more tears, no more suffering, no more pain.  Each person will live in comfort and no one shall make anyone afraid, for all needs everywhere will be satisfied.

This evening, during our Ash Wednesday service, we received small pieces of paper at the door when we entered the sanctuary.  After a reading from Isaiah and the pastoral meditation, we wrote down our transgressions, our fears, our strife, our pain, our laments and our hopes, our dreams and joys.  As we gathered to receive communion, we laid our written burdens down in a bowl at the base of the cross.  With empty hands now, we received the bread and wine with which we remember our Beloved Christ, then we received the imposition of the ashes upon our foreheads.

Returning to our seats for a time of reflective prayer and penitence, we prayed for one another, for ourselves, and for God's creation.  We offered our confessions and prayed for healing from all sin.  The papers which we had brought to the front were soaked in oil and were then lit on fire.  

Photo by Trista Wynne - @ Murrayhills Christian Church

A great and glorious flame consumed our fears, our sin, our hopes and all which we had confessed.  That burning bowl of confessions put off quite a bit of heat as we prayed!

Photo by Trista Wynne - @ Murrayhills Christian Church

Tears, Fears & Pondering the big "D"

4 a.m. -- Woke up from a nightmare about my parents' death.  Tears are flowing freely...

My dream brings a number of questions to light. Like, who do you call, exactly, when your parents both have DNR wishes? Do you still call 9-1-1 and have them send the police and a coroner? Which pastor do I call? (Mine or theirs? Both?) What about their pets? Who do I call to take care of them? How do I manage the situation if I have the kiddos I nanny with me? (We all go visit them a couple times a week.) How do I contact my family members? How do you share something like that over the phone?

Who am I in this situation? Daughter? Chaplain? Will my family look to me for spiritual guidance? Will my pastoral presence matter to them? Will I be so overwhelmed with grief that I can be of no help to them? Will they resent me for that later?

I guess we all have to deal with questions like these sooner or later. Now is simply my time. I'm mentally preparing and processing in the dark of the night. Fear, I realize, has very little to do with the reality that they might pass from this life to the next at any point. The part of the dream that made it nightmarish was my anxiety about the "what next" or "what now" questions swirling about. I post because I figure that gaining some insight will help to calm those fears. Then I will feel more prepared when the time comes...

Lightening my Spirit

This evening, Beloved, I spoke with a very dear friend about life, death, cycles of rebirth, dementia, Alzheimer's, cancer, suicide, depression, care-taking and the like.  I shall contemplate the details of our conversation for quite some time...

For now, I want to note how much taller and broader and lighter I feel.  The tentacles of the dark shadow that has been looming for several months seem to be receding.  I almost felt as though I were growing wings while speaking to my dear sister in Christ.  She certainly lifted my burden of sorrow.

It seems that few people are able to discuss death and loss as realities of life.  Either they become disconnected and talk simply about the facts, which removes them from the situation emotionally, or they become so involved as to become a further hindrance to my grief process.  Few have been able to listen deeply, to be vulnerable with their own experiences and still refrain from "stealing the show" or comparing their grief to mine in a way that turns the conversation towards them.

It is hard to find compassionate, pastoral listeners.  But You brought me to three this week.  One in particular remained with me long into the night.  She is the reason I am writing.

I am blessed beyond words by our conversation and time together.  I am very grateful that You have brought us together for these days following Christmas.  Like the tiny snail here, I feel a bit like I have been brought to a safe haven.

Photo by Trista Wynne

I am surrounded by people who know me intimately.  They are providing me with emotional and spiritual shelter in the midst of the storm of grief.  Thank You, Beloved, for giving me a bit of new life and for lightening my spirit during this time of communion with Your peoples.  Amen.

Life, Death & Renewal

Beloved ~

It's been several days since I've last written here... well, several days since I've written anywhere, really.  The last week or so has been filled with a tremendous sadness as I wonder whether this will be the last Christmas with a few of my loved ones.  There have been joyful moments, too, and I am very grateful for the presence of a dear friend visiting my husband's family and my family both over these Holy Days.

Still, the shadow of grief continues to hover.  Sometimes it looms large and ominous, covering everything with a bluish-black hue.  Other times the shadow is a hint on the corner of my eye, just far enough out of my direct sight not to impede my vision, but lingering in the periphery nonetheless.  I am always aware of its presence.

It has been said that the thing that sets humans apart from other animals and plants is the knowledge of and contemplation regarding our own mortality (and that of others).  I am not convinced that we are alone in such knowledge.  I've seen enough pets near death to see such knowledge in their eyes and have felt their spirits reaching out much as ours often do in our final days, weeks and months.

Part of me often wonders about the plants that You have created.  Do they have some sense of self-awareness?  This is a question I don't think any of us can answer for certain.  One thing that is certain, though, is that the blooming flowers are with us one moment and the next are returning to the earth from which they sprang forth.  New life often comes up out of the soil in the very same spot, sometimes right away, sometimes after a great deal of time has passed.

Photo by Trista Wynne

The return of the flower to the earth is a vital part of the eco-cycle.  The new plants receive nourishment from the plants which have grown before.  And the petals and leaves which now line the earth give the little seedlings much needed protection against the elements until they are able to branch out on their own.

What Does it Mean to Trust You?

Beloved,

One of my dear friends recently shared how difficult it is to trust You, especially in times of transition.  This one does believe that things will work out and has experienced your faithfulness and provision on several occasions and yet still finds it difficult to trust.  This friend is not alone.  Countless others have conversed with me about the difficulty they have trusting You.  For many, it's easier to not believe that You exist at all than it is to examine what it means when we use the phrase, "God is good".

Like my friend and countless others, I, too, have difficulty trusting You.  It is hard to admit that at the end of my seminary studies I may be no closer to comprehension or faith or trust than I was at the beginning.

Something, however, has shifted.  This time of study, of fellowship, of exploration of Your Community -- it has shifted my perspective.  As of yet, I cannot articulate how.

A New Creation: Life, Death & Resurrection for All

Beloved,

These last few days have been filled to the brim with contemplations regarding life, death and the communion of saints.  Such contemplations and percolations have been generated by a great many things even over the last few years, to be sure.  Particularly poignant have been the experiences of loss of loved ones, the study of the Scriptures and church history, the immersion into zombie culture that my husband and I have entered in Seattle, and observations we have of the world and society around us. 

There is much confusion in our culture about what constitutes life and what death truly is.  Your word has much to add to this discussion.  I pray, Dear One, that the hope found in Your promises will be preached, and that new life will be openly received here in this place.

Joining together of Old and New: Praying for Healing and Unity of the Generations in the Church of Christ

"Strong Roots" - Photo by Trista Wynne

Beloved,

My heart is downcast within me.  I miss my time with my grandma, and I long for encouraging interactions with the elder generations around me.  You graciously have provided me with several neighbors with whom I am interacting on a regular basis who are in the generation before me, and we learn so much from one another.  I do, however, long for the wisdom and encouragement that came from my grandma.  With her I felt safe and accepted for who I was.  I was never afraid to admit a wrongdoing or a mistake, for we could often laugh together about something similar she had done when she was my age.  She had many stories to tell me that brought history to life.  I always learned something new when we were together.  She deeply valued our relationship as well. 

My stories and adventures brought her great joy and she was always delighted to hear about the new things that I tried.  We even had many adventures where we tried new things together.  New recipes and outdoor exploring sites came forth out of our mutual desire to learn and to grow.  She saw You in me, and she listened attentively as I explored the truths that Your Spirit was speaking.  We prayed together often, and she opened up Scriptures to me in exciting, tangible ways through her life stories.  We were respected, valued and loved.  Perhaps this is why, even though we didn’t see one another every week, when we were together, it was as though we had never parted.  I look forward to the time when we will be reunited together in Your Holy Kingdom, when all things are made new in the fullness of time.

"New Breath" - Photo by Trista Wynne

My heart is downcast, though, because relationships like this are hard to come by in Your Church today.  The elder members neglect to encourage the younger generations and neither group respects the other.  I see the need for something new for Your Church to enter into the future, but know that You have not equipped me for building or sustaining; You have created me as a visionary, a dreamer, a creative spirit whose exuberance and delight in You might inspire others to bring forth this new thing that is percolating on the edges of the present day.  And so, dear Lord, I invite others to join me in the following prayer so that we might enter into this glorious future well-equipped for the mission work that You have given Your peoples to accomplish.  We pray for unity and healing so that the world may know that You are Love!

We pray, dear Lord, that you might bring the generations throughout your Church together so that the younger generations might receive encouragement and mentoring, and the older generations might feel appreciated and valued.  We pray for healing of the wounds which each party has inflicted upon the other.  Wherever we have contributed to these wounds, we pray for grace and forgiveness.  Grant us the wisdom and the courage to join together, to share our stories and to listen prayerfully to one another so that together we can enter into the blessed future that You are preparing for your worldwide Church.  We pray for denominational and generational borders to gently fade so that a new, vibrant, united Church might be seen and that, as Your Beloved Son prayed, we might be known by our love of one another. 

"Beauty in New Life" - Photo by Trista Wynne

May You, O Lord, raise up from among us prophets and visionaries, builders and activists, and developers of sustainability.  May we work together so that future generations will look back upon our time and see Your Sophia-Spirit moving through what we pray, say and do together.  May it all be for our Beloved's glory in Christ Jesus.

Empowered by the Holy Spirit, we pray this in the name of Jesus the Christ, and we desire Your glory above our own.  Amen.

Christ is Risen! Alleluia!

Ah Beloved,

Today we celebrate Your resurrection from the grave! We lift songs and dance and all kinds of exuberance as we remember all that You have accomplished through Your birth, life, death, resurrection and ascension. We look forward to the time when You will come again to complete Your new creation. Maranatha! Come, Lord Jesus! Amen.



Although the audio quality is a little low, (a simple voice recorder was left in the pews while we prepared to lead this song) I still think you'll enjoy it. The worship team, bell choir, organist and choral groups of the church all worked together to craft this 2009 version of a familiar Easter hymn. Special thanks to the people of St Peter's and Frankincense for their love and prayers over the years. We remember our time together fondly.

The video here visually walks through Palm Sunday and the slowly darkening week we have just been through. Beginning with the palm fronds, then progressing through images of fall, and the bitter cold of winter, I wanted to remember through pictures the journey of Holy Week. The sun sets and photos from a local cemetery remind us of the sad day when our Lord was crucified, died and was buried. These images soon give way, following a burst of lightning, to the glorious joy of new life that we find in the resurrection.

A brilliant display of springtime color reminds us that we are in the season of growth. We now find ourselves looking forward to the delightful days of summer, just as we await the fullness of time when all things are finally made new, and there is no more pain, sorrow, loss, war or bloodshed. We are in an in between time, somewhere between light and shadows, living as fully as we can in the here and now while always keeping a watchful eye for the unfolding of the glorious Kingdom of our Beloved.

Blessings to you all on this most holy of days.

Happy Easter, 2011.

On Earthly Transitions: Ponderings about the Pursuit of the New World

Good evening, Beloved!

I wonder what You are observing this evening. What things are in the hearts of people across the globe as they pursue their rights and equality? Are they encouraged or frustrated by the process? Why aren’t the governments willing to relinquish their power? Are we willing? Will their freedom mean the end of our status as “top dog”? Will that be a bad thing?

"Earthly Transitions" -  Photo by Matt Wynne

Although I do not specifically wish for it, and will grieve that day, I know that history shows us that our time has just about come to a close as an empire. I wonder what the new world, (post US empire) will look like. What languages will we speak? Who will assume authority? Will we have any humility at all or will we fight to the bitter end?

Oh Beloved, I wonder many things, but mostly I wonder how You view these upcoming transitions and if You have any particular words or a message to be shared. I wonder if the church leaders will look to You or to themselves for truth, guidance, understanding and peace. What about the governmental leaders? What about Your peoples?

May we all turn toward You! May we incline our hearts, minds and spirits towards You! May we look to Jesus for wisdom, and to see and to follow Your Way of Love! May Your Spirit of Grace and Life be stirring up within our core as a part of Your world-wide Church! Amen.

On Freedom & Bondage

"Sacred Union" - Photo by Trista Wynne

Oh Lord, I lift up those who are in bondage, in relationships that may be unhealthy with a vicious cycle of violence or oppression! For those who are on my heart this night, I pray that You, O Lord, will rescue and set free. Rescue, O Redeemer! Save, O Savior! Heal, O Healer! Let Your Kingdom come and Your will be done here and now as it is in heaven!

O Prince of Peace, come and deliver Your peoples form the bondage of slavery and death! Remove all the burdens we heap upon ourselves and others! Cast off the shame of guilt and fear and anxiety! Let us be rid of the darkness in ourselves and in the world!

Lord, how much of the darkness that we face is residual from our own internal life-long struggle, and how much is from an unseen entity? You alone know, O Lord! Thankfully You are the One to whom everyone and everything answers and You will sort it all out in the end. For now, we wait and lament because the darkness is so strong that it threatens many lives!

I trust you, Lord. I want to trust You completely. You know what we need, what we have and what we long for. Heal and renew us all: body, mind and soul, and guard us by Your grace so we can delight in Your will and walk in Your way, in Jesus’ name, amen.

Transitional Objects: Sacred Union & Longing in the Grief of Life

"Sacred Union" - photo by Trista Wynne

In All our Losses, All our Griefs: Resources for Pastoral Care, Kenneth Mitchell and Herbert Anderson discuss the benefit of transitional objects in easing the pain of separation and loss. We are often given a blanket, teddy or other stuffed animal to help us transition when we are children being weaned from our mother’s presence. Just as these transitional objects bring us comfort as children, so also are comforting objects incredibly helpful in times of grief.


I remember that when I was a young girl I had a large stuffed panda bear that remained near my bed at all times. When I felt afraid, such as when I had a bad dream, I would curl up in the soft embrace of my large panda bear; I often also brought my quilted blanket and when I was all wrapped up, a sense of security infused my being. It was a soft, warm place where I could cry or pray or look at a book, and I always was able to get back to sleep or face the rest of the day after having quiet time with my panda.

When I was preparing to go away to college and leave my childhood home, at first I thought I wouldn’t want anything from my earlier years, but when I found that my dad had brought one of my favorite stuffed animals named Kerby along for the car ride, I was quick to place it on my shelf. Truth be known, it ended up being snuggled with for the first several months that I was away from home. Gradually Kerby spent more time on the shelf than next to me, but his presence proved valuable for helping me get to sleep in a strange new place where no one and nothing was familiar.

Several years later I received a large stuffed bear for Christmas from my mother in law. It was a joyful addition to the random collection of stuffed animals that my husband and I had acquired for and from one another during our years of courtship. This large, soft bear ended up serving the role of transitional object when I could no longer hold the child I once had nannied. When I had fretful dreams where the child was out of my grasp, or where I was being pulled away from the child, I held the bear and was usually able to get back to sleep. If I came home from work and my husband was still on the clock, the bear helped the tears to flow freely. Over several weeks and even a few months, the bear served as an object of comfort and connection to the one I could no longer hold. Gradually my dependence upon this bear to sleep lessened and the nightmares dissipated. After several months, I found myself only reaching for the bear occasionally, and later, usually in moments of joy when I was remembering the child. As I gave the bear a hug, I would pray that my Lord Jesus would wrap that child in His strong arms and let that child know how much they were loved and missed from this side of eternity.

A couple of years prior to that, when I had miscarried, my mom crocheted me a prayer shawl. She made it with several strands of yarn together so that it was very soft and very warm, and I knew that she had prayed for my healing, safety and blessing with every stitch. She and I had both crocheted several prayer shawls for others, so I knew the intensity of the love that went into this blanket. Whenever I felt lonely, depressed or discouraged, I found that wrapping up in this shawl lifted my spirits and gave me comfort.

The sensation of grief leaves one feeling very cold and the brokenness on the inside of the heart feels jagged, so a blanket helps to bring warmth and softness and renews the spirit. Soft, soothing objects like teddy bears or clothing that was once worn by our loved ones provide a tangible connection to the one for whom we long, and they ease the burden of sorrow, even if only for a few moments. The respite from our grief allows us to breathe more deeply and clears our minds of the chaos that tumbles around inside.

Our Lord Jesus knew the burden of grief and separation. He wept openly when His family friend, Lazarus had died, and was deeply moved in compassion for his close friends when He knew that He was about to be betrayed and sentenced to death through a flawed justice system. Even though both of these deaths led to resurrection, Jesus knew that there was great pain in separation from our loved ones. I believe this is why we have the Lord’s Supper.

After a sacred final meal with His close friends and their families, He took bread, broke it, gave thanks and gave it for all to eat, telling them to remember His body every time they felt, cut, tasted and internalized bread together. And He shared His cup of wine, looking forward to the coming days when, as the prophets of old said, the mountains will drip with sweet wine, and the land all around us will be abundantly fruitful with justice, mercy and steadfast love and faithfulness. Whether or not we fully comprehend the meaning of this final meal, and whether we share it often or only on rare occasions, this meal gives us communion with our Lord, with each other, and with all peoples who at any time in any place have called on the name of Jesus.

This simple meal of bread and wine is for us a transitional object, serving as a connection point where the sacred and mundane all come together, where we all receive comfort, sustenance and preparation to continue along the journey of faith, proclaiming the Lord’s life, death and resurrection until the day comes when every tear will be wiped away and there will be no more pain, no more suffering, no more separation or sting of death, and all things shall be made new. The bread is soft and comforting, and the wine spreads warmth through our bellies. Our Lord meets us in this meal and the grief of this life is lifted, even as we wait the completion of the promise for renewal, peace and abundant life in eternity.

We await Your coming kingdom, Lord Jesus, and we are thankful for Your gifts of this sacred meal and of Your Holy Comforting Spirit who encourages us until we all can physically touch Your face and hear You call us each by name. While we are in this time of transition, where the human spirit, the creatures and the entire earth cry out with grief, help those of us who know the gifts found at Your table to share Your ways of peace, justice, mercy and steadfast love through our way of life and in our thoughts and words towards one another to the delight of our Father in Heaven. May we be strengthened and renewed in order that we might minister to Your world in this time of need, amen.