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“The Peaceful Side” of Christmas

Two Cups of Tea at Hope’s Cafe

We live not far from Smoky Mountain National Park, the most visited national park in the United States .Nestled midst the thriving tourist sites of Gatlinburg and Dollywood is the village of Townsend, TN, billed as “The Peaceful Side of the Smokies,” for its much smaller area, quieter tempo and peaceful atmosphere. Its corollary in this holiday season would be “The Peaceful Side” of Christmas, otherwise known as Christmastide, the Twelve Days of Christmas beginning December 25 through January 5.

The weeks leading up to Christmas day are often characterized by hurrying and scurrying to prepare for Christmas celebrations. Christmastide is something of a “second chance,” an opportunity to reclaim the meaning of the season, to behave in accordance with that meaning.

Long intrigued with Boxing Day, December 26, also known as St Stephen’s Day, I thought it was a day for visiting friends and neighbors with baked goods or other gifts. Apparently it indeed has evolved where Boxing Day is another aspect of the festivities. However, Boxing Day in Britain began as an act of offering a “Christmas box,” presents or gratuities, to tradespeople and employees. An earlier tradition in Britain involved the wealthy allowing their servants off work to visit their families on the day after Christmas.

The concept of Boxing Day would seem to have originated from late Roman and early Christian eras when alms boxes were placed in the narthex of churches to collect offerings tied to the Feast of St. Stephen. The later European tradition of giving money or gifts to those in need dates to the Middle Ages.

Perhaps at our core we recognize our responsibility to one another. Admittedly, we too readily return to the busy routines of our daily lives. But if we can think of Christmastide, these twelve days, as a time to unwind from all the hubbub, maybe we can take some moments to breathe deeply, take stock and reorder our priorities. Maybe we can begin to incorporate Charles Dickens’ intention into our awareness and our behavior: “I will honour Christmas in my heart and try to keep it all the year.”

The invitation is open to share two cups of tea anytime at Hope’s Café or anywhere you share companionship and conversation.

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

Home Is Where the Heart Is

Two Cups of Tea at Hope’s Cafe

“You will never be completely at home again, because part of your heart will always be elsewhere. That is the price you pay for the richness of loving and knowing people in more than one place.” This quote showed up in my memories on Facebook this week. That thought strikes me in the solar plexus. When I am in Chattanooga, I am happy to be near our daughter and son-in-law here and our longtime friends….and I am aware that I am not with our daughter and son-in-law and grandchildren in Maryland…I am aware I am not in Montana with our more recent friends and community there. And this is indeed the price I pay “for the richness of loving and knowing people in more than one place.”

Early in our marriage, we put our house on the market. We were startled that it sold immediately. Needing housing quickly, we moved in with my mother-in-law while we built another home. One day while my husband and I were walking around the property which would eventually provide us years of comfort and pleasure, he said, “I could live in a tent with you” which translates to “Home doesn’t depend on building a new house. Home is with you.”

Thinking over our years together, I imagine our relationship as a tree, nurtured and rooted during our life. All those people and places I miss when I am not there are the branches that have grown from this trunk, all part of a whole. These are not disparate pieces of my life. I have many “homes.” They all belong to our story. And for that I am grateful.

“Good friends (I would alter this to say ‘The significant people in your life’) are like stars. You don’t always see them, but you always know they are there.”

The invitation is open to share two cups of tea anytime at Hope’s Café or anywhere you share companionship and conversation.

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

Sparks in the Dark

Two Cups of Tea at Hope’s Café

In a previous blog several weeks ago, I made reference to a book I had discovered and intended to order called Hope in the Dark. Since receiving it, I have been steadily working my way through it, not so much seeking answers as seeking anchors, something solid in this current murky morass.

Published in 2004, the time frame in which author Rebecca Solnit wrote was in the early days of the war in Iraq and Afghanistan. The Thanksgiving before President Bush led us into that quagmire, my brother, who was visiting us at the time, said he thought all the rhetoric was “just a lot of saber rattling.” But before it was over one of his sons would do multiple tours there and now suffers from PTSD. Unforeseen consequences? Apparently so, as 82% of the country supported the invasion, at least initially. Eighteen percent of us bore the mantle laid on us of “unpatriotic.”

Yet Solnit sifts though the circumstances like a beachcomber finding the ocean’s treasures left behind amid the litter. The litter is most certainly there but we are remiss if that is all to which we give our attention. In her opening, Solnit refers to Virginia Woolf’s statement that: “The future is dark, which is on the whole, the best thing the future can be” which the author interprets to be dark as inscrutable rather than terrible. She notes that we often mistake the one for the other and elaborates: “Or we transform the future’s unknowability into something certain, the fulfillment of our dread, the place beyond which there is no way forward. But again and again, far stranger things happen than the end of the world.”

The context eludes me now, but I came across the term “sparks in the dark” this week and latched onto it. “Sparks” conveys energy, an energy that is the fuel of hope. Hope inspires action, whether quiet or bold, even when that action may be simply putting one foot in front of the other. Despair is hope that has run out of fuel. The antidote is movement. I think of the fellow in the Bible described as lying by the pool of Bethesda, “hoping for a miracle” that the waters reputed for healing powers would stir and he could be cured and mobile again. But as the story unfolds, Jesus says, “Arise, take up thy bed and walk!”

I offer some encouragement for the journey:

“Hope is the small light that insists the path ahead is still possible.” – Grace Ellison “When you plant hope, you harvest courage to face tomorrow.” – Marcus Reed “Hope whispers that the worst moment is only a chapter, not the whole story.” – Amelia Brown

Insist on Hope read the church marquis this week. Let us insist. Let us persist.

The invitation is open to share two cups of tea anytime at Hope’s Café or anywhere you share companionship and conversation.

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

Cheers!

Two Cups of Tea at Hope’s Café

Fresh off a week of celebrations with friends and family, first Thanksgiving, followed two days later by my husband Terry’s 80^th birthday party, I am deeply aware of the role we play in loving, supporting and cheering each other on through life. However, with three grandchildren I witnessed another aspect of our human behavior that mirrors society’s troublesome characteristic: the struggle for power, for dominance.

For five years, our grandson Gabriel was the “baby” of the family, the younger of two boys. Then our daughter and son-in-law pursued the adoption of “Mercy,” who was just shy of three when she came to live with them in 2024. She was adopted from an orphanage in Africa where the family was living at the time. Culture shock engulfed everyone concerned! Jockeying for position became a major occupation for these three children. And it isn’t a pretty sight!

Mercy is a recognized leader at preschool. She pays attention to those absent on any given day. She is like a sheepherding dog, rounding people up, directing play time with her classmates. At home she is the youngest and is resented by her brothers when she tries to dominate. Gabriel is quite distressed to be misplaced in the family dynamic. Sebastian sometimes takes on a leadership role, getting the three of them to play in some way he designs and they follow. Other times he is just part of the fray.

Yet in the midst of this, Mercy demonstrated something else. She asked me to play a board game with her. At four, she seemed to me perhaps not quite prepared to understand the game or to play by its rules. But she did. She was pleased with herself when she won the first game. When I won the second one I expected some objection. Instead, she enthusiastically clapped for me.

What a different world this would be if we clapped for each other, cheered each other on, truly recognized we are all “just walking each other home.” At this time of year when we focus on charitable acts, we have the opportunity to accept the challenge to recommit every day to being charitable people in a fractious world. As Winston Churchill said, “We make a living by what we get. But we make a life by what we give.”

The invitation is open to share two cups of tea anytime at Hope’s Café or anywhere you share companionship and conversation.

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

The Pioneer

Two Cups of Tea at Hope’s Cafe

Having grown up in northern Oklahoma, known for the Cherokee Strip Land Run September 16, 1893, and home to the Pioneer Woman statue located in Ponca City, I had a rather romantic notion about pioneering. Pioneers were rugged, resourceful, adventurous people. I thought I would have loved to have been a pioneer. Eventually I came to realize that they endured some unimaginable hardships that I wouldn’t have wanted to experience.

I could easily get sidetracked here both because of the history of the Oklahoma land runs on the territory given to the Cherokee and other tribes removed from their homelands (Trail of Tears come to mind?) and because of the back story of the Pioneer Woman statue. But that is not the point of this blog.

In the fourth grade we had a shelf of books in our room to include a number of biographies. I read the one about Jane Addams, the first “social worker,” first called “friendly visitors.” I decided immediately that is what I wanted to do. Mostly I single-mindedly pursued that goal. Twenty-five post graduate years later, working as a Licensed Clinical Social Worker, I felt a tug in another direction. The direction was quite indistinct. My inclination was to find a mentor, which I did. The mentor urged me to take Clinical Pastoral Education, which I did. I then had an opportunity to do a three year lay ministry course. One thing kept leading to another and I eventually was ordained and accepted a call to a church in Montana. (I must have some pioneer spirit!)

During those years as a pastor, my duties, though varied, provided a solid structure to my life. And then I retired. Any routine is elusive. Many people thrive on the freedom of retirement. I certainly aspired to it. But I find myself feeling like a pioneer trying to negotiate the landscape of my life. I thought I had the perfect plan: spend a large portion of time with our grandchildren several states away; join the choir at church; do occasional supply pastoring. But I find my life choppy, not coherent, certainly not with the ever-evolving path that I experienced on the road to ministry. And I have encountered obstacles I hadn’t anticipated that make the journey more challenging.

The site VeryWellMind addresses this. “Retirement brings a new sense of freedom, but it also comes with challenges and difficult emotions. It’s a change in identity, finances, relationships, and how you spend your time—no wonder it can be difficult to adjust.

“You’ve likely thought a lot about how you’ll enjoy your golden years. But there’s a good chance you never thought much about the psychological effect retirement might have on you. Retirement often means a loss of identity. Whether you identified as a banker, cook, or teacher, retirement can cause you to question who you are now that you’re no longer working.”

That same article suggests “experimenting” with your life, which, curiously, is a technique we used as therapists. “Experimenting” gives one room to explore without feeling so much anxiety about the results. Afterall, it’s an experiment!

Ralph Waldo Emerson would applaud this. He said “All life is an experiment. The more experiments you make the better!”

To those who may also be feeling like “pioneers” trying to master a new stage or circumstance, I encourage you to join me in “experimenting!”

The invitation is open to share two cups of tea anytime at Hope’s Café or anywhere you share companionship and conversation.

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

FYI

Didn’t get it together this week! See you next time. Blessings to you! Kate

Healing

Two Cups of Tea at Hope’s Cafe

In a moment of despair, fearing that the recent fall I took might have done some real damage to my back. I turned to a sure-fire remedy: poetry. Actually, I went to my email to search for a favorite site “inward/outward.” There I found a post on healing which included a link to another site where I discovered a beautiful poem by the talented Jan Richardson:

The Healing That Comes A Blessing

I know how long

you have been waiting

for your story to take

a different turn,

how far

you have gone in search

of what will mend you

and make you whole.

I bear no remedy,

no cure,

no miracle

for the easing

of your pain

But I know

the medicine

that lives in a story

that has been

broken open.

I know

the healing that comes

in ceasing

to hide ourselves away

with fingers clutched

around the fragments

we think are

none but ours.

See how they fit together,

these shards

we have been carrying—

how in their meeting

they make a way

we could not

find alone.

The post I had first read that led me to the poem also had a comforting thought that I have held onto:

“…there is no assurance of physical healing, only the awareness that I am held in a great web of love. No matter what happens to my body, my spirit can be whole and at peace.”

So many times I have experienced that “great web of love.” I am reminded I continue to be surrounded by that web and can be whole and at peace, regardless of my personal state. For that I am most grateful. If you are in great pain or dire circumstances, do listen to your body, pay attention to that web of love which holds so much comfort, support and guidance.

The invitation is open to share two cups of tea anytime at Hope’s Café or anywhere you share companionship and conversation.

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

Chain of Gratitude

(Please note: Somehow the quote last week about setbacks did not actually come through when published. It was: “Giving up on a goal is like slashing your other three tires because you got a flat.”

And the blog previous to that included a quote attributed to Albert Camus. I discovered the only sentence that he actually wrote was: “In the depth of winter I finally learned that there lay within me an invincible summer.” Whie the rest was quite lovely, some anonymous person elaborated. My apologies for both lapses in my postings.)

Two Cups of Tea at Hope’s Café

A dear friend sent me a piece from the New York Times by Melissa Kirsch describing Kirsch’s gratitude practice. Looking to find a fresh approach to the acknowledgement of gratitude, she developed what she calls a “chain of gratitude.” In this gratitude practice, I might give thanks for the fresh cup of coffee I am holding and think of all that went into the making of that coffee, the process that got it to the grocery store, the fact that I had the money to purchase it, the opportunities I’ve had to share a cup with my spouse, with friends. The cup itself reminds me that it was the gift from a friend. I think of all the ways she has been a kind companion through life’s journey.

Tracing a gratitude back to its origin and then forward, I could give thanks for the gift of writing, I could recall how I was encouraged from a young age. I began to show an interest in writing in the fourth grade when some poetry was introduced to us in school. My parents affirmed my early efforts. My father, a printer on the newspaper, brought home end rolls of printer paper on which I began to write stories. My sixth grade teacher would allow me to read my stories to the class. She encouraged the class when we expressed a desire to start a school newspaper and helped us through that process. She became a mentor throughout my life.

In high school I became editor of the school newspaper and throughout college I worked for public relations departments and school newspapers. Along the way I had honorable mention in a story contest and a poem published. At a church where I was a member I offered to write a column for the newsletter. One friend there suggested I should write a book of devotionals. I lived with that thought for years and eventually wrote one. But I knew nothing about publishing. As I was sitting next to a friend at a dinner for chaplains, I suddenly recalled she wrote for a magazine. I asked her if she might have any suggestions for where I might send my book for consideration. Yes, she did! The group she wrote for was just starting to publish books. I went home, sent my proposal to them and heard back the next day!

Along the way I have had writer friends who have encouraged me. This chain of gratitude seems endless and includes the very people who are reading this. I often feel I should give this blog up because I don’t feel it lives up to my standard for my best effort. You deserve better from me, more of my time devoted to writing it well. But when I “make noises” like I might quit, someone will offer some response that keeps me going. Thank you so much for the time you take to read my posts! I am grateful for you!

The invitation is open to share two cups of tea anytime at Hope’s Café or anywhere you share companionship and conversation.

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

Setbacks

Two Cups of Tea at Hope’s Cafe

While visiting our grandchildren in Maryland, just at the 6 month post-surgery milestone and was doing very well, our 6 y.o., in a burst of exuberance, ran towards me to hug me just as I came inside after a walk. I wasn’t expecting it, wasn’t prepared, wasn’t “planted.” Down I went! I expect it will be at least a month to recover lost ground.

How have I responded? I have grieved. I was so happy with my improvement. I have struggled with acceptance that I don’t bounce back as quickly as I did when I was younger. I honor my grief and my struggle. Yet setbacks come in many ways in the course of a lifetime. We give ourselves a great gift when we are able to move on from the grief and struggle to a path forward, to the actions and attitudes that support recovery.

In setbacks we have a clear choice: to despair or to accept the challenge to overcome the setback. I think of all the things I have survived, from my earliest recovery from rheumatic fever to the experience Terry and I had when we were defrauded by our longtime business manager. I won’t be defeated by this setback! Consider this:

“Giving up on a goal is like slashing your other three tires because you got a flat.” — Setback Quotes.QuotesGram

The invitation is open to share two cups of tea anytime at Hope’s Café or anywhere you share companionship and conversation.

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

Reset

As I seek to make my way through the present state of affairs here and abroad, I periodically have to do a “reset.” Today I found some things I thought worth sharing for others who might need a reminder that we can seek light. We even have opportunities to be light to others.

From Albert Camus, this timeless classic:

Or consider this thought:

Sometimes even my own thoughts serve to remind me to “reset.”

12 October 2018 ·

I am amazed sometimes at how in the midst of upheaval and the anxiety that can accompany it, that a sense of peace can envelop me. I am always sustained even when my awareness is clouded.

As evening begins to wrap its arms around my corner of the world, I hear the murmur of birds and crickets and tree frogs. I surrender to the moment.

The invitation is open to share two cups of tea anytime at Hope’s Café or anywhere you share companionship and conversation

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