Author: katecafehope

Tonight I participated in what in our denomination is called an Ecclesiastical Council, the step that enables one, when they have completed the arduous process, to be “Ordainable Pending Call.” Tonight the woman I had mentored for several years, whom I had watched blossom, became “Ordainable Pending Call.” 

I don’t write a lot about matters pertaining to religion because I wanted this blog to be something that anyone regardless of background might find worth their time to read.  But this is not really about religion anyway.  This is about what it means to be a mentor. 

“The greatest gift you can give someone is not just to share your riches but to reveal to them their own,” wrote Benjamin Disreali.  What amazed me over the time we worked together was how much a gift it was to me to be involved in the process.  Whatever I may have contributed to her process was enabled by my own mentoring through the years, going all the way back to grade school when Ms. Ada Tenney encouraged me to write and followed my life over decades, always impressing on me that writing would evolve out of “paying attention” to people, to life, to my experiences. 

Thinking back, including Ms. Tenney, I can count thirteen people who in one capacity or another, served as mentors.  A few examples:

              The college advisor my sophomore year who “talked me off the ledge” of jumping ship in the middle of a semester. 

              The advisor my senior year who, when I was afraid to go out into the big wide world on my own, and wanted to stay to do a graduate degree that wouldn’t take me towards my career goal, said “You can do that if you want, but a Family Relations and Child Development degree will not give you the same opportunities as a Master in Social Work,” which was not available at my school. (Thank you, thank you, thank you for that nudge that made all the difference!)

              My first boss at the Oklahoma Department of Public Welfare who wrote in my evaluation something to the effect that my soft, gentle demeanor belied a tougher, more substantial character, something that startled me.  I began to see myself differently.

              I could go on….supervisors who helped me hone my therapy skills…..mentors as I began on a path to ministry who made immense impact in my development.  Think of your own.  Whose gifts are you grateful for?  Whose efforts helped you learn and grow?  Think of those people who are thankful for your contributions to their development.   Think of the benefits they will pass on to others. 

              May we be bearers of hope, the “wait staff” of Hope’s Café for each other and all those we encounter.  Shalom, Kate “

Hope’s Café Bonus:  “A mentor is someone who helps you see the hope inside yourself.” — Oprah Winfrey

This is how I remember it:  in third grade, the teacher introduced some poetry and we were encouraged to write a poem.  I’m not certain that is an accurate report of what happened.  I just know that I began writing little “poems.”  One that I recall:

              “The sun is slowly sinking down.

               It changes from its golden gown

               Into another one of red.

              And then it tumbles into bed.

I sent it off to a magazine which rejected it.  I was heartbroken.

Eventually, I began to write stories.  My father, a printer on the newspaper, brought me home the end of rolls of newsprint paper that kept me supplied for my writing.  These stories were made up adventures about my classmates and I was allowed to read them in class by my indulgent teacher.  I helped start a school newspaper although I’m not sure we put out more than one edition! 

In junior high, we had an English assignment to write a poem.  My teacher questioned the authenticity of mine, titled “Winter Sunset,” which hurt my feelings. But she sent it off to the state poetry contest where it placed.  I wish I had a copy of it.  I only recall it started “The sun’s last feebled-fingered hands spread threads across the sky.” By high school, I was into journalism and was writing articles for the newspaper, but I took up some poetry attempts as well. 

I continued writing for school newspapers throughout college, while sometimes composing the occasional poem.  One that I wrote during those years, was chosen by my daughter for her high school year book when each senior had to select a quote placed by their school photo.  That was a higher honor than winning an award.

I am not a disciplined writer, but I am currently part of a writer’s group at the local library, the Sheepdip Scribes, Sheepdip being the original name of our little burg.   The “Scribes” decided to put together a booklet of some of our work.  Because I spend most of my time now writing sermons (and blogs!) I haven’t contributed much.  I decided to search for the folder with my work from over the years.  When I found it, it was like discovering treasures.  Some of the works in that folder were in the script in which I had written them years ago, including one poem from a creative writing class in 1976 at a local community college and a poem that had come to me as I was driving from Waco, TX to Oklahoma City, OK.  I had composed it mentally and then memorized the verses until my arrival in Oklahoma City when I promptly put it on paper.  These are like old friends and reading them feels like I am getting reacquainted.   Yet it seems to me, as we age, perhaps we begin to recognize such treasures discovered from our past are embedded in who we are.  We ourselves are the treasure.

May we be bearers of hope, the “wait staff” of Hope’s Café for each other and all those we encounter.  Shalom, Kate “

Hope’s Café Bonus: “As steady as the tides, life constantly reveals the treasures within us.” emilyquotes.com

My apology to Victoria Erickson for borrowing the title of her book for the title of today’s blog. Who, you might ask, is Victoria Erickson?  Well, allow me to introduce you.  I have only just now discovered her, having come across one of her quotes on the ubiquitous Facebook postings, which read:

“I love getting older.  My understanding deepens.  I can see what connects.  I can weave stories of experience and apply them.  I can integrate the lessons.  Things simply become more and more fascinating.  Beauty reveals itself in thousands of forms.”

What draws me seems to be her passion for life, along with a recognition of time as fleeting, an emphasis on living in the present, while the opportunity is there, knowing we are mortal.  This is especially brought home to me in this season. 

As I write this, I am aware Dia de los Muertos, the Day of the Dead, has just been celebrated, particularly in Mexican culture.   Although the dates can vary according to the region where it is being celebrated, more typically on November 1 families welcome back the souls of deceased children with a brief reunion that includes food, drink and festivity.  On November 2, families pay their respects to the souls of adults who have passed away.  This is intended to honor the cycle of life and death and to remember loved ones who have died. 

Closer to home, this Sunday at the church I pastor, we will honor All Saints Day, and the following two weeks we have programs offered on aging and the preparations to consider before one faces end of life. On an even more personal level, I am aware of my own aging, of how differently I experience time now, of how I am beginning to grapple with my own mortality.  I return to quote Ms. Erickson:

“We blinked, and it’s the holidays again. How many more laps around the sun are left? Life is slippery and fleeting, and distance so cold. Stay humble and warm. Remember what counts.” 

May we be bearers of hope, the “wait staff” of Hope’s Café for each other and all those we encounter.  Shalom, Kate

Hope’s Café Bonus:

For my writer friends, and all who appreciate writing that offers a mirror to our lives,  I point you to Ms. Erickson’s self-description:  “ Hi, I’m Victoria. Most of my time is spent with words, as they have been my passion since I could hold a pencil. I find them to be fascinating- the way the sound, shape, and texture of words can move off a page and through the cells, weaving through one’s veins, and circling to the heart.”

The silence that seems to engulf the world when it snows, surrounded me as I walked to work in the first snowfall this week.    Hardly anyone was about.  Momentarily I felt like the sole inhabitant of space and time.  This sensation felt oddly spiritual.  Curious, I searched for what might have been written about spiritual characteristics of snow. 

              I became a fan of Frederick and Mary Ann Brussat’s website spiritualityandpractice.com some years ago.  Under their section on spiritual practices, they offer “A month’s worth of practices to explore the many moods and meanings of winter, including its pristine beaty and its many opportunities for playfulness. “

            The Brussats make reference to Alan Epstein’s How to Be Happier Day by Day: A Year of Mindful Actions,  in which he writes about the spiritual practice of being grateful for all kinds of weather — even the kind of winter weather that inconveniences us: “Look forward to the approach of strong or unusual weather. Instead of griping when the days turn foul—snow, sleet, freezing rain, or rain with cold temperatures—see them as an exciting adventure, as a time when nature reminds you that she exists, that when it comes to the earth, it is her domain.”

Imagine considering all phenomena—including bad weather—as contributing to our experience of life. Epstein’s recommendation is “Don’t discriminate. Enjoy the adventure.”

Another source of their suggestions comes from Robert Fulghum who wrote in a blog (Nov. 28, 2010) that” the northern plains tribes of Native American Indians made it a habit to keep track of time and tribal history by placing graphic symbols on a large, tanned buffalo hide. A village elder would mark the events in the community from the first snowfall of the year to the last. They called these collections of memorabilia “Winter Counts.”

The Brussats recommend creating “ your own ‘Winter Count’ as a kind of homemade history of what is going on inside and around you during winter. Feel free to include anything that strikes your fancy.”

Practicing hospitality is another means on their list of ways to honor winter’s spiritual dimension. Including people you know less well in your gatherings enhances the neighborly effort.

May we be bearers of hope, the “wait staff” of Hope’s Café for each other and all those we encounter.  Shalom, Kate “

Hope Café’s Bonus:  Based on an essay called “The Cold” by John Updike, the Brussats write:“Don’t fight with the cold and allow it to deplete all of your energies. It is very easy to make winter into a terrorist out to bring us harm. When your furnace breaks down or your car doesn’t start in the morning, talk kindly to it. Let go of your idea of controlling the day or villainizing the season. Just go with what shows up — with the ice, the snow, and the cold.”

A dear friend died this morning.  As I was about to lead a Celebration of Life for a community member,  the text came through that my friend was in ICU requesting hospice care.  That was two days ago.  I feel like I have been hit in the solar plexus. 

Years ago, I read Necessary Losses by Judith Viorst, in which she encouraged the acceptance of losses as inevitable because this allows us to engage with all of life more fully.  I did not realize how much she had written since then, much of it about the process of aging and eventual death.  Her poem “The Pleasures of an Ordinary Life” resonates with me about now. The final verse reads:

“Young fantasies of magic and of mystery
Are over. But they really can’t compete
With all we’ve built together: A long history.
Connections that help render us complete.
Ties that hold and heal us. And the sweet,
Sweet pleasures of an ordinary life.”

  My friend had been the most physically active person I’ve ever known.  Yet even as her body began to fail her badly she maintained such a peaceful countenance about it all. Though I am comforted by the memory of the attitude with which she approached life, I think what will sustain me is “the ties that hold and heal us, ” the connections “that help render us complete.”  I am so grateful to be part of the network of friends that loved her over the years and surrounded and supported her in the final months.   

May we be bearers of hope, the “wait staff” of Hope’s Café for each other and all those we encounter.  Shalom, Kate 

Hope’s Café Bonus:  And a verse from her poem “Happiness (Reconsidered)”:

 And on Saturday nights
  When my husband and I have rented
  Something with Fred Astaire for the VCR,
  And we’re sitting around in our robes discussing,
  The state of the world, back exercises, our Keoghs,
  And whether to fix the transmission or buy a new car,
  And we’re eating a pint of rum-raisin ice cream
       on the grounds that
  Tomorrow we’re starting a diet of fish, fruit and grain,
  And my dad’s in Miami dating a very nice widow,
  And no one we love is in serious trouble or pain,
  And our bringing-up-baby days are far behind us,
  But our senior-citizen days have not begun,
  It’s not what I called happiness
  When I was twenty-one,
  But it’s turning out to be
  What happiness is.

Sitting in the dentist’s chair as the hygienist worked her magic on my teeth, I noticed a poster on the wall: “Flowers are like sunshine fallen from the sky.”  That resonated with me.  Although my luck with flowers is minimal, I once planted a very small flower garden which consisted of zinnias and sunflowers.  When my daughter was four, as those plants were just blooming, she called urgently to me to come to the patio.  I thought it was a distress call.  Instead, she was expressing excitement.  “Look, mommy, look at the beautiful flowers!” 

However, I came across another quote from Jon Kabat-Zinn that caused me to consider all that goes into those gifts of nature and, by extension, all of life.

              “What seems to be happening at the moment is never the full story of what is really going on.  For the honeybee, it is the honey that is important.  But the bee is at the same time nature’s vehicle for carrying out cross-pollination for the flowers.  Interconnectedness is a fundamental principle of nature.  Nothing is isolated.  Each event connects with others.  Things are constantly unfolding on different levels.  It’s for us to perceive the warp and woof of the Oneness of All as best we can and learn to follow our own threads through the tapestry of life with authenticity and resolve.” 

Kabat-Zinn’s point is well taken.  That fundamental principle of nature, of which he speaks, is critical to a functioning society, a cooperative world.  When we lose touch with that sense of interconnectedness, we flounder. We undermine everyone’s best interests.  We become disconnected and that disconnect easily devolves into destructive attitudes and behaviors.  Henri Nouwen wrote that “Much violence in our society is based on the illusion…that life is a property to be defended and not a gift to be shared.” We certainly see the evidence of that.  We are capable of doing so much better.

May we be bearers of hope, the “wait staff” of Hope’s Café for each other and all those we encounter.  Shalom, Kate 

Hope’s Café Bonus:  We could all use some “sunshine fallen from the sky,” about now.  Poet Thelma J. Parker describes flowers as “dazzling little poems from the universe.”  In the midst of a bruised and suffering world, they are purveyors of hope, little messengers “from the universe.”

When we moved to Montana, I never considered that we might get to see northern lights, yet we have had several opportunities to observe them.  We have friends who are longtime Montana residents who remind us to watch for them.  Even those who have always lived here are as captivated as we are.

Fascination with all things celestial qualifies one as an “astrophile.”  I consider myself in those ranks.  From the time I was small, my parents both embedded in me a love for the night sky.  Even now I can see my father and me sitting on the back porch steps looking at the moon.  My older brother was away at scout camp and we sang “ I see the moon and the moon sees me.  The moon sees somebody I don’t see. God bless the moon and God bless me.  And God bless the somebody I don’t see.”  I can still hear my mother quoting the Psalms: “When I behold the heavens, the work of thy fingers, the moon and the stars which thou hast ordained, what is man that thou art mindful of him, or the son of man that thou visitest him?” 

Once after a rather stressful day of taking care of our grandsons, I heard Terry out on the balcony with them talking about the stars and the planets and in that moment I was totally at peace.  Their bedroom wall had pictures of the planets and even the little one, not even two at that time, could name them.

“The stars remind us that we are part of a larger universe,” wrote Dr. Richard Tresch Fienberg, who received MA and PhD degrees in astronomy from Harvard University.  “Half your world is overhead, so why not look up and get to know it better?  Our world is increasingly stressful.  Looking up at the night sky in quiet and contemplation is a wonderful way to find inner calm.”

Whole-hearted agreement, Dr. Fienberg!

May we be bearers of hope, the “wait staff” of Hope’s Café for each other and all those we encounter.  Shalom, Kate 

Hope’s Café Bonus: 

“Every time I gaze at stars above, I feel small, big, infinite and connected all at the same time, and tonight on the Amazon is no different.”
― Michael Sanders, Ayahuasca: An Executive’s Enlightenment

Opening my Insight Timer for meditation, I was caught by the beginning quote “You are both a masterpiece and a work in progress.”  I can readily identify with being a “work in progress.”  A masterpiece?  Not so much.  Yet I have pondered those words.

I suspect I am not alone in resisting being characterized in such a way.   What would it mean to consider ourselves masterpieces?  Historically, a “masterpiece” was a work of a very high standard produced to obtain membership of a guild or academy in various areas of the visual arts and crafts. In modern use, a masterpiece is a creation in any area of the arts that has been given much critical praise, especially one that is considered the greatest work of a person’s career or to a work of outstanding creativity, skill, profundity, or workmanship.

Maybe we need a new definition for this concept. “We carry within us the wonders we seek,” wrote Sir Thomas BRowne. “We are all a part of the divine spark. All have a purpose in creation and that purpose is called Love. That love, however, shouldn’t be concentrated in just one person, it should be scattered throughout the world, waiting to be discovered. Wake up that love,” wrote Paul Coelho. The sense that a divine spark within me that connects to the divine sparks in others seems like a tapestry which constitutes an ongoing masterpiece. Perhaps the quote on Insight Timer was an attempt to convey that very idea.

May we be bearers of hope, the “wait staff” of Hope’s Cafe for each other and all those we encounter. Shalom, Kate

Hope’s Café Bonus:  Paul Coelho, Brazilian author, with history as a theater director, actor, lyricist and journalist, further wrote: ““When we love, we always strive to become better than we are. When we strive to become better than we are, everything around us becomes better too.”—from Coelho’s best selling book The Alchemist.

Consider this:  in India, a dog was seen being chased by a pack of wild dogs.  The dog jumped in the river right into a pile of crocodiles.  Amazingly, three crocodiles (crocodiles!) put their snouts together and nudged the dog gently to the safety of the other shore.  Researchers speculated that they were not hungry at the time but also that there is some not-well-understood aspect of empathy that can be activated within animals for other animals in distress.  There are many stories that demonstrate this but the one of the crocodiles is astounding. 

Empathy and sympathy are both ways we respond to the suffering of people around us. But there’s a crucial difference: Sympathy is acknowledging someone else’s pain, but empathy is choosing to feel the pain with them. Sympathy says, “I care about you,” and empathy says, “I’m hurting with you.” 

Perhaps you saw the story on the news of the two boys who struggled on together after the death of their grandmother who had been raising them.  The older one whose plan had been to enter college, was managing their life as best he could when a storm severely damaged the house left to them by their grandmother.  A contractor agreed to repair it but took their money and then skipped out on them, leaving them in an uninhabitable house and penniless.  They became homeless until some volunteers learned of their plight and restored a home for them.  Then a fund was established for them and the grandson who had had to forego college in order to earn a living for them, was offered a scholarship and has started his college education.

How did a contractor take all the money from two bereaved children, ultimately leaving them homeless?  How did a group of volunteers feel compelled to see that these two young people had a home and a means for a future?  How do we cultivate empathy within ourselves and within our culture so that more people reach out and fewer people see others as simply objects to manipulate?

These suggestions come from lightenthedark.com:

1. Practice active listening. Give your full attention to the person speaking, maintain eye contact, and show genuine interest in what they’re saying. This helps create a safe space for them to express themselves¹.
2. Put yourself in their shoes. Try to understand the other person’s perspective and imagine how they might be feeling. This can help you empathize with their experiences and respond with kindness¹.
3. Practice random acts of kindness. Small gestures like holding the door open for someone, offering a compliment, or helping someone in need can make a big difference in someone’s day¹.
4. Be patient and non-judgmental. Everyone has their own struggles and challenges. Instead of judging or criticizing others, try to be patient and understanding¹.
5. Express gratitude. Show appreciation for the people in your life and let them know you value them. A simple “thank you” or a heartfelt note can go a long way in making someone feel seen and appreciated¹.
6. Volunteer your time. Find opportunities to give back to your community or support causes that are important to you. Volunteering can help you connect with others and make a positive impact¹.

If even crocodiles have it within them to occasionally help a dog in distress, surely even the worst of us, or the best of us on our worst days, can behave with compassion and empathy towards our fellow humans.

May we be bearers of hope, the “wait staff” of Hope’s Café for each other and all those we encounter.  Shalom, Kate 

Hope’s Café Bonus: “Empathy is about finding echoes of another person in yourself.” Mohsin Hamid

Think of a rainbow….perhaps the sound of a gentle rain as you go to sleep….a beautiful sunrise or sunset…a good cup of tea or coffee….your dog’s joyous greeting on your return….kittens playing…..a loved one’s smile…..

  A glimmer is a kind of clue, whether internal or external, that brings one back to a sense of joy or safety.  The opposite of a trigger, which can bring on anxiety, glimmers provide calm.  The concept was first introduced in 1995 by Stephen Porges as part of Polyvagal theory.  This theory describes how our autonomic system is searching for and reading cues to determine if they are dangerous.  However, the term came into use more recently, first by Deb Dana, a Licensed Clinical Social Worker, in her book* in 2018 and later by a viral TikTok video.*

Even just recalling those moments of glimmers brings me joy.  When our grandson Sebastian was on the verge or learning to walk, Terry and I were helping with childcare while his parents worked.  If we weren’t quick enough on getting to his morning walk, he would maneuver himself over to the stroller till we would take the hint.  Then, strapped into the stroller, he would vigorously kick his legs with joy.  I have a little video of that which brings a glimmer, but even thinking about it makes me smile.

On one of those strolls, a dog knocked me down unconscious on the asphalt, resulting in my being overnight in the hospital with eight stitches in my head.  I had terrible vertigo and an infection in my leg where the dog’s leash had ripped off some of my skin.  I, who had always loved dogs, was then triggered by the site of a dog or by driving by the park where the incident occurred.  I had to actively work to overcome those fearful sensations.  My experience has been that something that was a glimmer can become a trigger, but also a trigger can be managed or overcome.  I now can see dogs without fear being triggered and in fact can experience “dog glimmers”!

Look for the glimmers….life offers us so many opportunities not only to see them but to reap the rewards physically and emotionally.

May we be bearers of hope, the “wait staff” of Hope’s Café for each other and all those we encounter.  Shalom, Kate 

*Hope’s Café Bonus:  Deb Dana’s book is The Polyvagal Theory in Therapy:  Engaging the Rhythm of Regulation.  The TikTok video was posted in February 2022 by psychologist Dr. Justine Grosso.