A Mighty Fortress

I’m working through my second Lenten season after resolving to become a better pray-er last year.  Please see my post http://www.terrilabonte.com/2020/05/i-say-a-little-prayer-for-you/  for additional background.  Of course, I just published this piece, even though I wrote it almost a year ago.  I get really nervous if I don’t have several weeks’ worth of blog posts in reserve.  Perish the thought that I might have nothing ready to go some Wednesday morning!  I would have to write something on the fly without proper planning and scheduling.  The very possibility makes me nauseous.  Sometimes my pre-recorded pieces get a little stale sitting on the shelf waiting for their moment, but I don’t think prayer ever gets stale.  I don’t think there is anything wrong with two helpings of prayer in short succession.  In fact, in these uncertain times, maybe two helpings of prayer are exactly what we need to keep us off the ledge. 

I wanted to give you all an update on how my efforts to improve my prayer life were going.  Last Lent, I began a Bible In One Year app project, which guided me towards dedicated Bible study and prayer each evening.  After that experience, I served as the chaplain for our parish Episcopal Church Women group.  My sole job in that capacity is to pray and lead other members toward prayer.  I love it.  I actually feel my soul expanding as I help channel our group’s powerhouse of prayer and search for creative, experiential, thoughtful ways to spur closer intimacy with God.  I’ve been leading a small group in our Alpha program.  This leads me to even deeper levels and stronger intensity of prayer.  This past Lent, I chose a short passage of Scripture to capture and copy into my prayer journal each day. This helped me feel more confident and more grounded in my prayer. 

 I’ve learned a number of lessons about prayer and the results of dedicating time to improved communication with God.

Sometimes, external things happen when I pray.

There have been several instances when my prayer seems to have resulted in at least a small shift in circumstances.  Maybe I have not witnessed anything super dramatic yet (although I believe something extremely dramatic HAS happened and we just don’t know it yet.) Still, I see mini-miracles tied to my prayer all the time.  In the challenges presented by the COVID-19 physical distancing protocols, I see wonderful things happening.  In one example, my small Episcopal Church has not missed a single Sunday service.  After the CDC recommended that no one gather in groups of 10 or more, we didn’t gather together in the church building.  However, the very first week without physical community services, our rector and a team of wonderful, talented, Spirit-filled people figured out a way to organize, produce, and market a Sunday service on YouTube.  This might not seem like a big deal to a lot of people.  Our community, however, is not exactly modern.  It is not on the cutting edge of technology.  It was like going from 0 to 100 in electronic communication/distance learning in just a few days.  I am sure that was only achievable by hard working faith-filled, prayerful people.  Another example is the way neighbors and community members are looking out for each other.  I know there is hoarding and the grocery store shelves are pretty pitiful.  At the same time, though, people are calling each other to check in on people who might be feeling isolated, running errands for those who are more at risk, being creative in constructing a way to help the world feel “normal,” and finding ways to ease the economic cataclysm that the lockdowns will cause for the most vulnerable among us.

I know there are many secular organizations and many non-Christians who are also working to do these things.  I do think there is a difference with prayer, though. While we are all temporarily stopped from the busy-ness of our lives, some of us are spending more time in prayer and remembering our faith.  In some ways, I see us coming closer together rather than further apart, as we deliberately and mindfully find ways to protect our relationships and spiritual journeys from isolation.  Normally, when people are “stuck” inside their homes for a few days because of something like an oncoming hurricane, there is an overall atmosphere of resentment and dread.  This time, there is almost a feeling of empowerment and joy within my circle of praying friends.  It feels good for us to mobilize to deal with this challenge.  It feels good to support efforts to remain connected.  It feels good for us to remember who God calls us to be. 

Sometimes, the changes I see are less tangible.  I pray frequently for the guests in our church’s Alpha group.  I have seen that prayer lighten their hearts, as God has brought them closer to His love.  Of course, God could do that without my help. Jesus is the one that draws these folks to Him, not me.  I think it is awesome and exciting that God gives me the opportunity to participate in the process, through prayer and agape. 

Sometimes, prayer doesn’t change anything… except me.

During the past year, I’ve changed so much.  My service, confidence, thoughtfulness, creativity, emotional and intellectual intelligence, relationship-building skills, and love have increased exponentially.  My natural talents and strengths are expanding.  I am forgiving myself more readily for my weaknesses and failures, secure that God has already done so.  I often pray in thanksgiving for the paths where God chooses to lead me and the lessons he is teaching me.  I am absolutely convinced that the point of life is to grow into the person God wants each of us to be.  I feel like that is happening to me more now than at any time in my life.  It may seem strange that this is happening as I enter my golden years rather than in my youth or middle age, but I guess everyone has his or her own script. 

I think the reason I have been able to blossom, especially in the last year, is directly related to the increase in quantity and quality of my prayer life.  I feel like my prayer life is a mighty fortress that God and I have built together.  It protects me and allows me to live as genuinely and authentically as I can.  Within the walls of this fortress, I can grow the garden of my life and build my serving ministry without fear.  It is a godly kind of fortress.  It doesn’t keep anyone out; it just protects what is inside it.  The walls are permeable to anyone of good intent. 

All in all, the most important thing I have learned is just this:  Prayer works.  It may not work the way you think it will, but it works!

Has your spiritual life changed during the COVID-19 pandemic?  In what way?  Please share your perspective by leaving a comment.  In the alternative, you can email me at terriretirement@gmail.com.

Have a prayerful day!

Terri/Dorry 😊

Normal

Normal is a tricky concept these days.  Now that states are starting to reopen after the coronavirus quarantine, it is hard to know how to view life.  Reopening commerce is not a free-for-all for freedom.  Wisely, reopening processes are gradual and tentative.  As the process plays out, it does so on a social canvas that is chippy and uneven.  Some people are declaring victory over the virus and bustling to be the first one in line to regain “real life.”  Others are certain that everything is happening too quickly, with public health being thrown to the wind in the name of economic health.  Everyone is sure that their position is the reasonable one.  Many people are also trying to validate that their perspective is the reasonable one by advocating for their position on social media.  It can feel a little judgy and a little self-righteous.  It is hard to know what to do.  I struggle with the questions of legality, safety, and risk/benefit.  I also struggle with the question of what is socially acceptable. 

It is particularly difficult because one of my great fears about this whole quarantine thing is happening.  I have lost my grip on social interaction and how to do it.  As I explained in my post Social Distancing  ( http://www.terrilabonte.com/2020/03/social-distancing/ ), I had a tenuous hold on that skill at the best of times.  Now, I just feel weird. The energy required to maintain social connection in new and different ways during the quarantine has been a bit draining.  I have worked hard to mold my social interaction needs and skills to fit a virtual world, but it has felt awkward like learning to write with your non-preferred hand. Now, I just want to return to writing with my dominant hand, but it feels rusty from disuse.  It does feel good to go out and about a little bit.  It is not that eating in the dining room of a restaurant or looking at clothes in person inside a store is that big a deal. The giddy feeling of normalcy is a big deal, however.  On the other hand, that normalcy is clearly just pretending.

“Normal” has not started in today’s world.  “Normal” is sputtering.  As with an old car in need of a tune-up, I am never quite sure what will happen when I turn the key of “normal.” I may be delighted and pleasantly surprised to see that Outback Steakhouse is open.  I may be jumping out of my skin at the chance to go to Disney Springs.  I felt like a real thrill seeker visiting a fancy home décor specialty shop in a cute little local downtown area.  Truthfully, though, the experiences are still far from normal.  The “normal” car started, but I still have that nagging sensation that there are things going on under the hood that may portend disaster.

There are the big, visible abnormal differences. We wear our masks, sucking in trapped humidity with every breath.  We avoid hugging and shaking hands. We project our voices when we speak to friends across a six-foot barrier.  Fitting rooms, jewelry counters, and other more “hands on” experiences in stores are still unavailable.  Starbucks, along with some other big chain dining and retail establishments, are still closed to walk-in business.  Church services are still coming to us via the Internet instead of face-to-face fellowship. There is still a wistful stillness and vacancy in places that are open.

There are also the less concrete barriers to normalcy. I have said from the beginning that I was not too worried for my physical health or safety.  It is not that I think the virus is not dangerous or that we should just go about our everyday routines without employing safety precautions.  I just had a feeling that I, personally, would be okay no matter what happened throughout the COVID-19 pandemic.  Given that perspective, it makes sense that I have a little less trepidation about returning to normal life than some other people do.  Just as I have been careful to adhere to the public health guidelines and limitations in place out of respect and compassion to other people, I want to be respectful and compassionate to other people as we climb over the other side of the quarantine curve.

Reading people’s posts on social media, it is hard to get a good take on what the socially acceptable level of comfort is. I’m okay starting to patronize the physical world again now, but I suspect many other people are not.  I do not want to be insensitive to other people’s feelings. I also do not want to be thought reckless and irresponsible. I do not want to endanger other people’s physical or emotional health.  I also want to spend time having fun and improving mental health with friends who are also comfortable venturing into the great unknown of public dining rooms, stores, and theme parks.  I have been enjoying small gatherings of friends at outdoor picnics for the past couple of months, sitting more than six feet from each other.  When is it okay to move those gatherings into enclosed spaces without risking the health of those I love or freaking anybody out?  A couple of friends and I have an overnight girls’ trip planned in a couple of weeks.  Are we all comfortable riding together in the same car for three hours?  What precautions should we employ to be respectful and polite? 

I guess the answer to all of these dilemmas is communication- communication about comfort levels that has nothing to do with judgment, trying to convince other people of how they “should” feel, or vilifying people who feel differently.  The goal of communication is to preserve relationships and stay close, not erect dividing walls based on “comfort” level. 

How “normal” do you feel at this point?  How are you transitioning back to real life?  Please share your perspective by leaving a comment.  In the alternative, you can email me at terriretirement@gmail.com

Have a better-than-normal day!

Terri/Dorry 😊

Of Course

Of course, I see…

That your skin color is different from mine

That you are of a different ethnicity than I am

That your hair is a different texture from mine

That your facial features are not the same as mine.

Of course, I hear….

That your speech patterns and inflections and tones are different from mine

That you express yourself differently than I do

That you pray differently than I do

That the story you tell of your life is not the story that I have lived.

Of course, I feel…

That some of your culture and traditions are different from mine

That the broken places in your heart are different from the broken places in mine

That there is segregation between our lives, be it intentional or not

That it is painful to find sturdy common ground on which to live in justice and peace together.

Of course, I know…

That we are both hurt

That we are both angry

That we are both scared

That we are both much-loved children of our mighty God.

Of course, I love you. 

I have been dwelling in sadness, anger, and fear over the past few weeks since the killing of George Floyd and the aftermath of that event.  It is not this one event that has brought me to this place of contemplation.  It is more that this one event is a microcosm of race relations in our country. That is the concept that provokes sadness, anger, and fear in me.  The atmosphere in so many aspects of our lives is so “us or them” that I do not know if it can be overcome.  We are seeing the “us or them” attitude concerning race relations unfold in such an ugly way during this time.

It makes me feel good to see so many protests that have stayed peaceful and productive.  People can be righteously angry and peaceful at the same time. These peaceful protestors have something vital to say and people ARE listening.  It is especially heartening to see protests in which people from all races, ethnic backgrounds, and professions (including police and government leaders) participate.  On the other hand, the fact that there is such evil in our society that caused Mr. Floyd’s killing to begin with generates a certain amount of despair.  That same evil also spurs additional darkness when angry and opportunistic people commit violence in the aftermath of the murder. 

Today, I listened to a discussion between my pastor, Fr. Tom Trees, and a young African American pastor from another local church, Reverend Ryan Armstrong. Reverend Armstrong shared an idea that I believe and pray is the best way forward.  He said that distance breeds suspicion, but proximity breeds empathy.

I think the best thing to do is to pray that God will grant us courage and grace. I pray that He helps us to find the proximity we need to create enough empathy so that the “of course” in “of course, I love you” rings true for everyone. 

What are your thoughts on this delicate issue?  Please share your perspective by leaving a comment.  In the alternative, you can email me at terriretirement@gmail.com.

Locked In

I have seen news stories about all the wildlife boldly going where no undomesticated animal has gone before since the coronavirus quarantine drove people into their dens.  While we have been locked down, nature sees us as “locked in.”  Wild animals are using the opportunity to run amok. I think it is the natural world equivalent to calling all your friends and having a party when your parents are away for the weekend… or for many extended weeks in the case of coronavirus quarantine.

I am seeing it in my own neighborhood.  Our friendly neighborhood rabbit, Honey Bunny, has made several appearances in my backyard in the last couple of weeks.  We often see squirrels scattering around in the trees back there. Seeing Honey Bunny is a rarer phenomenon.  Up until a few weeks ago, we had not seen hide nor hare for over a year.  Then there was Ghastly Gussie the Gator.  I’ve lived in Florida for over five years and, before the quarantine, saw no alligators sunning themselves in the proximity of my sun porch.  After seeing a very live Ghastly Gussie in the backyard, I have seen two halves of alligators on opposite sides of the main highway outside my subdivision.  They might not have been so ghastly as Gussie, but certainly grislier and more gruesome. 

A week or so ago, a friend and I both saw some sort of mystery critter within a few days of each other. It was skedaddling into the brush around our community “meditation glen” wooded area.  We both saw it in about the same location, so I think it is probably the same animal.  Neither one of us have a clue as to the identity of this animal, even after extensive googling.  To me, it looked like a brown, furry, ambulatory ottoman roughly the size of an overfed lhasa apso.  Someone suggested it might be a wild hog, but it seemed too fluffy to be a hog.  It moved like an extremely large skunk, but it seemed to be devoid of any skunk striping or coloring.  I wondered if it might be a mink or otter, but it seemed too large and stocky to be a mink or otter.  It also would have had to have been a mink or otter having a really bad hair day because this creature certainly lacked the sleek elegance of minks and otters. It might have been a raccoon, but there was no banding on the dark brown bushy tale.  I really thought it looked most like a fisher cat or wolverine, but fisher cats and wolverines do not live in Florida. Whatever it was, I am sure I have never seen anything like it before the quarantine.

The other day, as I sat at the table eating breakfast, I noticed some action outside my screened-in lanai.  I caught some movement out of the corner of my eye.  I looked outside and saw Robert(a) the Bobcat sidling past my lanai.  If I had been out on the lanai and the bobcat had stayed where he/she was, I could have touched him/her through the screen.  That is how close the cat was.  Robert(a) was not in any particular hurry.  He/she walked purposefully but was clearly not in any “fight or flight” mode.  Max and I watched while Robert(a) made his/her way past all the houses on my street until he/she disappeared around a curve in the conservation belt behind the houses.  

Not to be outdone by the bobcat, Rocky (short for Rockette; I am guessing she was a female braving the daylight to forage food for a nest of babies) the Raccoon tramped by the lanai yesterday.  When I posted a photo on Facebook, my neighbors responded with dire warnings that Rocky was probably the Rabid Raccoon because she was out during the day.  Further research indicated that, although raccoons are primarily nocturnal, they are often seen during the day, especially in the spring when mommy raccoons leave the babies in the nest while they wander in search of calories.  Either for the babies or for themselves.  Apparently, nursing baby raccoons is hard work.  Google indicated that, if rabid, a raccoon will likely be disoriented, clumsy, and lethargic.  Rocky was none of those things.  In fact, she traversed the backyards along my street with a certain pep in her step and lightness of foot.  She seemed to travel most gracefully with a rhythm of movement.  That is why I named her Rockette.  I half expected to see her doing eye high kicks.

I think I am beginning to understand how animals in the zoo feel.  I’m locked in and the regular inhabitants of my world are coming out to look at me!

Rockette the Raccoon high-stepping outside my lanai

FRIENDLY REMINDER: Today, my second book, Random (A)Musings, launched on Amazon. You can order paperback and kindle editions. You can thank me later!

Me, showing off my new book before yesterday’s virtual launch party
I couldn’t wait to read it!