Morning Coffee

Beloved,

Today the sun shines brightly here in the Pacific Northwest, and the wind cuts cold, slicing through  the hand-made cap upon my head, finding just the right pathway through the neckline of my jacket in order to touch that shoulder that aches a bit when the seasons change.  So, I bundle up a little tighter, pour myself a cup of coffee and wrap up in a thick blanket to sit on the patio rocking chair to listen to the birds sing the last few praises before they travel south to avoid the winter storms.  I can see my breath.  Steam from my coffee fogs up my glasses.

Breathing in deeply, I feel the cold air rush into my lungs.  It remains there, pausing for a long moment, growing warmer as oxygen moves into my bloodstream.  Taking its place, the toxins, the used energy, are returned to my core.  The chill has completely dissipated.  I exhale slowly, wondering if you can feel what I feel, and see what I can see.

My Morning View - Photo by Trista Wynne

The branches of the trees in the green space are now exposed.  Waving proudly in their nakedness, they are not ashamed.  If only I could be so bold!

My lips have lost their moisture now - stolen by the frigid wind - that rascally thief!  The warm liquid soothes them, if only for a moment.  My coffee is losing its comforting properties to the same bandit that wicked away the softness of my skin.  I do not care.  I am here with you.  For this moment, that is enough.

Vacuuming, Planting and the Intangibility of Ministry

In the last couple of months, a good portion of my time has been dedicated to helping to develop a contemplative prayer service on Wednesday nights in my worship community and aiding in the guidance and supervision of religious development of senior high youth in an inter-religious fellowship.  Online development of blogs, social media networking and the planning and implementation of worship services all take time.  The effectiveness of this spent time, however, is not always able to be quantified or evaluated.  The support of ministry is somewhat intangible.

During this time frame since my weekday job came to an end, I have used a large portion of my time in soul-searching, the tending and healing of old wounds, evaluation of my intended career pathway(s) and filling out applications and online inquiries for job postings that look like they may be fulfilling for me.  Since I have not yet found a position that fills these weekdays, much of my free time has gone towards housekeeping and self-care.  Just as the support ministries listed above, neither of these things are really able to be evaluated.  Although a clean house is nice, it doesn't stay that way for long.

While vacuuming this morning, my soul once more was directing its attention to our Creator.  I was inquiring about the direction in which to travel to bring economic security to our household (although my husband is working full-time, I need to bring in at least a partial income to supplement what he provides while I await my ordination and, hopefully, full-time ministry work).  Continuing in my housework, I simply watch and wait on the Beloved's response.  The Spirit had something to say today as the vacuum passed to and fro on the office carpet.

All is intangible, She whispered.  All that I have called you to in this time is preparing you for the intangibility of ministry.  You plant the seeds of faith in every kind of soil that I place in front of you.  You preach and teach, you hold the hands of the wounded and broken, you guide and advise the peoples who are looking for direction, you pray for everyone you see and hear, and you point people towards My work in your midst.  But that is as far as your work can go.  Everything else is up to Me.

My thoughts turned towards the bulbs I planted last fall and those that I added to the soil this fall.  Not all of them will sprout.  Some have already been stolen by the squirrels who need a little extra sustenance for their winter nests.  Others simply do not have the DNA structure within them to support a full blossom in the warm months.  A couple of them have already started to sprout and their tiny shoots will be frozen over when the winds of winter blow through.  I have no control over any of those factors.  Granted, I can cover the ground with chicken wire or stones to attempt to thwart the advances of the squirrels, and I can insulate the tender shoots with peat moss and leaves to try and protect them from winter's effects.  But, in these preventative measures, my options are limited simply on account of our dwelling in a rental property.

Planting in my Garden - Photo by Trista Wynne

I understand why some church leaders and certain personalities are drawn towards the tangibility of membership numbers and financial contributions.  These things are quantifiable.  They can be judged and thus give some people a goal towards which to proceed.  We've saved x number of souls this month and baptized y converts, some might boast.  Our staff includes more people than you have attending your congregation, another might say.  Competition sets in and self-assurance soars -- that is, until the numbers begin to decline and self-identity begins to spiral downward.

The ministry that Jesus calls me to is not one that appeals to that sort of power jockeying.  My identity can not be based on such things.  I have come to learn that my self-image needs to stand on its own, content to be dwelling in the arms of our Beloved.

Perhaps this is why I have been called into this time of transitional rest.  As my soul and mind are gently healed from the wounds of old and I am working towards ordination, I am called to lay my cares and concerns into the hands of the One who is guiding my path.  I am simply called into Relationship.  This is my preparation for ministry, so that I can firmly say with the apostles of old:

For my part, I am going to boast about nothing but the Cross of our Master, Jesus Christ. Because of that Cross, I have been crucified in relation to the world, set free from the stifling atmosphere of pleasing others and fitting into the little patterns that they dictate. Can’t you see the central issue in all this? It is not what you and I do—submit to circumcision, reject circumcision. It is whatGod is doing, and he is creating something totally new, a free life! All who walk by this standard are the true Israel of God—his chosen people. Peace and mercy on them! (Gal. 6:14-16, The Message)

Thanksgiving for Fruitful Vines

Photo by Trista Wynne

Good evening, Beloved ~

On my heart tonight are the thickets of blackberries just behind our apartments.  Out of all of the wonderful smells we encounter in Your creation, the smell of ripening blackberries is one of my favorites.  Even our kitties enjoy the sweet scent!  I don't fully understand why the vines must be covered in such rigid prickles, however, when I reach in to help myself to this delicious fruit.

I wish they were more like the strawberry bushes with smooth, thin strands.  But perhaps then they would not be strong enough to hold such large, juicy fruit.  But what purpose do the thorns serve?

My mind wanders back to our church home up north, where lots of blackberry brambles covered the grounds. Every spring, the wild rabbits would use these thickets as a hiding place in which to build their burrows and bear their young.  The thorns serve as a natural deterrent to predators, protecting the little bunnies until they were strong enough to hop about on their own.  So, even though the thorns serve no good purpose for me, perhaps some of your creatures offer thanksgiving and songs of praise for the gifts of the blackberry brier.

Joy in the Season

Beloved,

Thank you for the laughter of little ones to begin my day.  Thank you for the precious gifts of your flowers and fruits.  As I walked this morning with the baby I nanny, we were delighted to watch the crows and robins soaring in the air. 


Tiny fingers stretched forth from the stroller to grasp and examine the lovely periwinkle flowers poking through a chain-link fence.  The humming of the bumble bees on the last bit of blooming lavender brought squeals of joy from us both.  And all I can say is thank you. 

May tomorrow's observations of Your creation be just as blessed, in Jesus' name, amen.

Summertime Serenity

Beloved,

As I delight in the freedom that comes from accomplishing all that needed to be done before the end of the term, I also bask in the light of the sunshine. Thank You, dear Lord, for this vibrantly beautiful day! Thank you for the stretching kitties basking in the light. Thank You for the fluttering sparrows and burrowing bunnies that my neighbor and I saw on our walk today.

Butterflies, Sunshine & Wide-Eyed Anticipation: Watching for New Life in Lent

Precious Beloved ~

Originally I had a fairly clear plan as to what I would do today, but I was willing to let go of my preconceived ideas of what the day would hold, and the entire day has been tremendously blessed. I trust that this is indicative of my lifelong journey as well, and at this time, of my worship life as we approach this new endeavor and unanticipated pathway. Your Holy Spirit blows where She will, and all I can do is be willing to watch for signs of Her action in the people, earth and creation around me, and to listen to my heart's response in order to find where I am called.

This is what journeying through Lent is all about -- releasing our ideas about what should happen and allowing You to work as You so desire. In Christ we see Your heart, O God! Through the promptings of Sophia-Spirit, all of our theological assertions and analogies simply fall to the ground like the palm branches of holy week; they are trampled so that the seeds of love might be pressed into the ground and a new creation can spring forth as we declare, "Hosanna".

Today, although I had distinct plans of where I would go and to whom I would speak, You, Beloved, had a different idea, and I am so very glad that You did. Through the unanticipated conversations, the blessed sunshine and the wild weather that followed, Your presence was truly palpable. What a lovely tryst it was!

As I grabbed my camera and sprung out into the delightfully sunny afternoon, I had the butterflies in my belly of a young lover who catches a glimpse of the one they long for more than life itself. I thought I might burst with joy and anticipation of the coming thing! Whatever was coming, I knew it was going to be tremendous. So I found the quickest way to enter the garden to capture the radiant reflections of Your glory which infuses each flower with beauty. I could hardly remain in my seat for the car ride, and virtually leapt forth onto the nature trails to soak in Your light.


"Joyful Illumination" - At the Botanical Garden - Photo by Trista Wynne


My mind feels like the earth which is in the midst of being pushed aside for new life to spring forth, and every fiber of my being vibrates with songs of delight. What is this new creation that I sense is coming? What sort of new life will spring forth within, through or around me? Like a child nearing their birthday, or a lover who has been asked to cover their eyes, I wonder, and I yearn, and I dance while I wait.

The storm clouds roll in and rain pours down but still I watch and I dance and I wait. Lightning flashes and thunder sounds, and yet I watch, I dance and I wait. Snow flurries swirl and darkness flows around, and still I watch, I dance and I wait. What is this new life about to spring forth? In Lent, I watch, I dance and I wait.

The Divine Feminine

In a way unlike any time prior, I am finding myself noticing the imagery of the feminine in Scripture in intimate detail.  The nourishing actions of a breast-feeding mother, the gentle flutter of a mother hen's wing, the protective shelter of the muscular womb, the intimate passions of the feminine belly -- all of these womanly wonders are attributed to You and to Your prophets across the span of time and space.  How intricately woven is the female body!  How intimately connected to You!

"Tender Strength" - Photo by Trista Wynne

Precious Spirit, You are in the midst of enriching my reading of Your Word and deepening my love for You at every juncture.  The tender caress of the flowers in bloom remind me of Your Feminine Presence.  I am delicate and strong, just like You.  Oh Sophia, Precious Mother, Passionate Lover and Companion of all, thank You.  I am deeply grateful for Your presence, and I await Your timing in the blossoming of my own internal flower as the earth now waits for spring.

A Child-like Faith: Seeing our Beloved Everywhere

To detach the walking from the destination

is in fact one of the best ways to recognize the altars you are passing by all the time.

(An Altar in the World, p. 56)

This quote from Barbara Brown Taylor makes me think about meandering home after the elementary school released us when I was a child. I knew that eventually I would get home, but was in no hurry to do so. The house key was safely in my pocket, so I could get in whenever I arrived. But for my young little mind, the journey itself held much more promise than the destination.

"Childhood Discovery" - Photo by Trista Wynne

Those leisurely walks home were filled with great discoveries: hopping frogs, curly potato bugs, slimy slugs, beautiful butterflies, singing birds and much, much more! Everywhere I stepped I found something to captivate my attention. No rock was left unturned, no branch went without feeling the weight of my tiny body, and no creature was ever harmed along my journey where every place was sacred.

How quickly we forget this child-like faith! How easily we neglect the everyday altars of our human existence on this precious, watery planet! How often we ignore the little things while in search for our ultimate goal or career or relationship!

Oh, Beloved, You are present in so many ways already here in the earth. Help us to see You in the many ways You seek to reveal Yourself! Help us when we become frustrated that our journey is taking longer than we expected. Remind us of Your beauty and faithfulness and grace and love present in the little altars of everyday material. Help us to once again become incarnational and to embrace the world around us with love, for You are present in many ways. Amen.

Fruit & Wine: The Joy and Challenge of Vineyard Life

"Waiting for Wine" - photo by Bernice & Trista

Having just returned from the Chateau St Michelle winery in Woodinville, I find myself reflecting on a note from the tour. Our guide talked about the reasoning for planting the vineyards in the semi-arid desert land of Eastern Washington and the benefits of the struggling grape vine. Vineyards that are planted close to the water are subject to a wide variety of conditions because of the maritime weather patterns, while those on the East side of the Cascades experience rather predictable weather year after year, particularly during the growing season. The combination of hot days and cool nights are most beneficial to produce a grape with a balance between acidity and sweetness. Too much heat leads to a soft, overly sweet grape, while too little heat lets the acid take over the flavor.

This makes me think about the content of life, how we are often placed in climates or situations that may at first seem entirely undesirable for what we want to accomplish. I imagine that the vines might complain as they struggle to produce their fruit. But in the midst of this, they have to put all their energy into producing good fruit for their vine growers. Sometimes it seems that this is the way of life; I can definitely relate to the plight of the vineyard.

I have found myself questioning at several points along the path why the Master Gardener placed me in certain situations or had me experience seasons of dryness and struggle. When it feels like I am not as well-decorated as my fellow vines or that their fruit is much larger and beautiful than my own, or when my mind is focused on my own growth and I’m simply dissatisfied with what I perceive as progress, I would do well to remember the vineyards of the Chateau. There, the vine tenders do not necessarily take the largest of grapes, nor do they look for the most decorated vines, instead they look for the specific fruit that will make the very best wine in the style they most desire at the time. Sometimes they let the vineyard sit without water for a certain amount of time in order to force the vines to root down deep, and at other times they’ll water freely.

So for us, we who are the branches on the Master’s vine, it means that our task is very simply to work on our root system, to find ways to tap into the Source of Living Water, whether that means prayer, fasting, observing worship practices that nurture us, doing works of justice in the world, absorbing Scripture, seeking Truth wherever it may be found, or leading a contemplative lifestyle. Different varieties of grapes need different growing conditions; we cannot say that because one is planted here that it is better or if they are planted there that it is worse. We do not know how the Master Gardener may use a different style vine than our own; we can only focus on growing our own fruit.

At the same time though, perhaps paradoxically, we who are called to tend the vine, even while being a part of the vine ourselves, must be aware of the conditions of the vineyard we are called to tend. If we, in our own community, have discerned that the fruit which our local vines are producing is not of top quality, or is not present at all, and we do not alter the conditions of the vineyard entrusted to us, it is we, not the fruitless vines, who will be held accountable. We have a responsibility to provide access to the Living Water in a variety of ways, and to help those who are seeking to find a place where they will find others who have similar root systems as their own, even if it is not within our vineyard.

Dear friends, do you see what I see? How boring it would be for us to enter a store and only have one kind of wine available! How much damage has been done to people that, if only they had been granted different growing conditions, or a different style of faith community, would have produced precious, delightful fruit for the Kingdom, but instead opted to jump out of the vineyard life altogether! Such is the risk we take when we have a single-mindedness about us in our teachings. When we say to a Riesling grape, “you should be Syrah,” or to a Chardonnay, “you should be a Merlot,” we are denying the Great Banquet Hall of heaven a variety of precious wines to celebrate with!  (See 1 Cor. 12.)

As for me, when I enjoy the heavenly banquet with my Lord, I look forward to a wide variety of fruit, lots of people with different ideologies gathered around the table, and an endless supply of delectable wines, that I, both as a vine and as one who tends the vineyard, aided in producing during my time on the earth. May I never loose sight of the fact that I am simply part of the vine, even when I am called to tend a vineyard here, amen!

Putting the Pieces Together: A Refelction on Exegetical Method and Life



"Piecing together the Puzzle" - Photo by Trista Wynne

 This morning I find myself pondering the joys (and pains) of exegesis, that is, the searching of Scripture in its original language in an attempt to discern the intent or meaning of the original author. In many ways, it is as though we have been given a puzzle in a box without the lid that would have the full picture on it. We, however, are not completely lost, for those who have received this same box of pieces we now find before us have passed down their representations of how they have fit the pieces together in their lifetimes. The problem there lies in perhaps choosing one representation over another simply because we were taught to do so as children (or perhaps later, if we came to faith later on in life). If we want to simply take someone else’s word for it and stay with one vision of what the puzzle looks like in the end, we might just end up forcing pieces to fit where they weren’t intended by the One who designed, painted, cut and passed out the pieces in the first place.


Recently my husband and I endeavored to piece a puzzle of a thousand pieces together. We had purchased it on our honeymoon in San Francisco a year after we were married. The puzzle portrayed a three-hundred-sixty-five degree view of the inside of Alcatraz. Now, even though we had the box in front of us, it was an incredibly daunting task. There are a lot of bars of similar shade to be found in that picture. Not only that, but the pieces were cut in very similar shapes so that pieces would fit together whose pattern did not match each other at all. After only a few hours on the first day I stood up and walked away from the table deciding that I was done. I glared at it from across the living room and then leaned back on the couch, closed my eyes and promptly fell asleep; my husband continued to labor for another hour over the tedious work.

Now, we had accomplished a good deal right at the start. We noticed patterns and sorted the pieces into piles of like coloring, placing the yellowish ones here, the grayish ones there and the dark brown ones in another pile, and gathering the straight edges into one area. My first task was to fit the frame together. My husband focused on a section in the middle. When I had come to the end of all of the straight-edged pieces, some appeared to be missing. That couldn’t be; we had just opened the box! Searching high and low to find the presumably missing pieces, I scoured the piles until my eyes hurt and then some. That was when I had given up that evening. At the end of the night, we covered the work area with a couple of large flattened boxes to protect our work from the paws of our kitties.

A few weeks went by before we sat down to work on the puzzle again. With renewed vigor we plunged into our work, this time having a larger portion of visual satisfaction in the tangible results of our labors. We pieced small portions of the picture together on opposite ends of the table and then slid them together and found where they interlocked with the frame I had worked so hard on the first night. I would send a dark piece his way and he a light piece in my direction. This goes there, or that goes here, and the pieces would stay just long enough to be fit together with another and then sent to the other end of the table once again.

At one point into the third full day of working on our puzzle, my husband wondered about a couple of pieces on the sides. He pulled one from the left and one from the right side and placed them in the space where the supposedly missing pieces should be. He was right. They fit perfectly and still matched the pattern of light and shadow. The frame was now complete; I had simply placed a couple of pieces in the wrong place and assumed it was right because they fit. I was much encouraged by his discovery, and found that I had a renewed energy to continue on our endeavor together. On the third day the work was finished.

Exegesis is a bit like that puzzle work. We organize the pieces (stories, or fragments of stories called pericopes) into piles, sorting them by genre, attributing them to certain authors, observing themes and pondering the big pictures we each have received through our various traditions. This, like the gigantic puzzle which my husband and I worked on, is not a task to be done alone. It is created in such a way that the whole community of God needs to be involved. Sometimes we need someone else to ask what might happen if we rotate this piece, or to tap us on the shoulder and suggest that that piece might be better placed on the other end of the puzzle.

We are greatly blessed to have at our fingertips, or only a short drive away, access to material from some of the most thoughtful, soulful people throughout the history of our faith. I am a student working on the puzzle of interpreting the Scriptures for the community of God, practicing my work so that in time to come I will give others the tools they need to join me in this delicate, delightful, fulfilling work that has been set before us by the Great Artisan – our Lord, Creator of the world through the Holy Spirit in Jesus Christ, one God throughout all time.

I am not alone. My work is in community. We support one another and bring to the table our own understandings based on the work of those who have gone before us and have left us pictures, poetry, songs and sermons giving us their unique perspectives regarding the work that we now have in our hands. I was raised in the tradition of Martin Luther, and I am grateful for such a deep structure of grace-filled roots. I also am delighted to be at the table with others who share their traditions drawing their inspiration from the herritage of people like John Wesley, John Calvin, and William Seymour. Together we tap into the deep, rich wells of the desert mothers and fathers like Anthony and Amma Syncletica, the sixteenth century mystics like Julian of Norwich and John of the Cross, the Eastern Orthodox saints like Catherine of Sienna and Basil the Great, the heritage of the Roman Catholic spiritualists like Henri Nouwen and Thomas Merton and the charismatic lineage of Francis of Assisi and Aimee Semple McPherson.

Life is also a bit like this. Not one of us is alone. We were not born into or raised in a social vacuum. Each of us has the blessing of the interactions that have shaped us from before we were born. And I do mean blessing, for even the most difficult circumstances, when shared within a loving, prayerful, discerning community, can become the seedbed for the re-shaping of the families, neighborhoods and government entities around us for the benefit of the world. We each have been given a unique piece, something to add to, the puzzle of life. Through prayer, community interaction, introspection, reading of Scripture and involvement with the people and world around us, we can find our place in the multi-dimensional puzzle of life to the delight of our Great Love.

Here is what I hear the Lord speaking to me, and through me, today:

Beloved, do not be discouraged if you have been told to put your piece here or there, only to find that you are later picked up and placed in a completely new arena. Most of your inner-turmoil arises when you misinterpret My direction as a message to glue your piece down on the table rather than for the message of temporary placement that it was originally intended to be. Throughout your entire life here on the earth, you are in temporary placement. Only in the completion of My plan will you truly understand your placement.


Dear beloved, trust Me. Listen for My voice. I speak through the Scriptures. I speak through those who truly love you. I speak through My creation. I speak through your intuition. I speak logically. I speak creatively. I speak in parables, poetry, song and dance. I speak through your body. I speak to others through you. Listen to Me. Act as I did in Christ. Follow my lead in the dance of life. Only then, when you have learned what it means to be My companion, will I call you to speak.


Come, beloved, draw near to Me, and I will show you what I created you to be.

Shifting Directions: A Call to Stillness on the Journey

One day while walking with a friend through a local botanical garden, I found that she was, as Frederick Buechner puts it, getting lost in her own rhetoric . She spiraled around and around in her self-depreciating thoughts and pontifications as we quickly walked along a stony pathway. Out of the corner of my eye, I noticed another path, one without the sharp, noisy stones, but lined instead with soft, supportive bark shavings. I leaned in the direction of the smaller, curvy trail to our left and invited her to join me. The chatter stopped as suddenly as the noise from our footfalls ceased echoing through the wooded area. Our breathing slowed as we were engulfed in the peaceful area near the ravine. Even from several feet away, I could feel her blood pressure lowering and saw the wildness drift out of her eyes. I slowed my gait and breathed deeply until we became still and listened to the fluttering wings of a nearby jay bird. The call of a raven hovered on the gentle breeze, and then it was still.


After a length of time I quietly entered the silence with a verbalized rumination on the beauty of that place, noting that I had come down that particular trail several times when I needed Mother Nature to break the cycle of chatter in my mind. We continued standing there for a long moment, allowing ourselves to be filled by the presence of our Creator. As I slowly began making my way around another bend in the pathway and I heard her soft footfalls behind me, I noted that when life seems to be overwhelming to me, I search for things to be grateful for – usually from the things that we often take for granted, like the ability to walk, speak, think, run, breathe, and the presence of running water, food, clothing, shelter, the ability to see this beautiful scenery and to reach out and touch it, receiving the sensations through my fingertips without feeling pain. I let the words remain speaking in the silence that followed until we returned to the path of stones and let the rhythmic sound fill the rest of our time together.

At the end of our walk through the garden, my friend noted the intensity of the shift between the spiraling chaos that she had entered into and the serenity she was led into through the simple change of direction. It was as if, she said, I had physically grabbed hold of her heart and yanked it out of the darkness and brought it into the light which, at that moment, she had almost forgotten existed. Although I had neither physically touched her nor pushed her into the light, the change of atmosphere had brought the shift in an immediate and striking way. As soon as the surrounding atmosphere was quiet, her spirit became suddenly aware of its own foolish chatter and it ceased making noise. She thanked me for drawing her out of herself and back into the world again.

The truth of the matter is that I am only able to do for others what has already been done for me. My Lord showed me when I was very young that the quickest way to escape the chaos, whether it be around or inside of me, was to change my direction, to listen to the creation around me, and through the avenue of nature to listen to my Maker’s heartbeat and align my own with that of the Divine. I pray that you will be blessed by relationships with people who know when to bring you into the realm of peace and stillness. You will be tremendously blessed when you enter the silence that draws you into the Light of Love and Peace. May the Lord grant you rich times of fulfillment and the joy of discovering yourself in the awesome heartbeat of our Loving Creator! Let it be through the power of the Holy Spirit, through Jesus’ name to the glory of our Great and Glorious God, amen.