Nesting

At the furniture store.
Adalheid and the king
Are shopping for
Dining room chairs.
As I walk around
Looking at the couches, tables and chairs,
I am struck with sudden homesickness
For my third-floor walk-up, Brooklyn apartment.

I am unsettled, Lord God...
Unsettled and nettled
By a sensation of not belonging.
It is not external;
It is within me,
As I wrestle with that part of my nature
That longs to nest,
And the other voice within
Telling me not to nest
In Adalheid's home.

It was so easy in Brooklyn.
I lived ten houses away
From my best friend.
I could invade her house at will,
But still retreat to my apart space,
And not feel like
An interloper or burden.

It is different here,
Large, sprawling spaces,
And the closest apartments
Are three-quarters of a mile away.

Three quarters of a mile
Compared to ten houses!...
My point of view
Needs to expand
In accordance
With this state's geography...

Father,
Remove this unsettled feeling from me.
Remind me that,
At the end of the day,
It matters not
Where I lay my head,
So long as I abide
In fellowship and communion
With You...

Choir Practice

Some people crash
Weddings and parties.
Me?
I crash Wednesday night choir practice.

Singing is the second most-frequent command
In the Bible,
Superseded only by prayer.

Like a fly drawn to honey
I wander into the Music Room,
And sit in the back,
And listen.

In my head,
The lyrics conjure images...
They're singing about
The Crucifixion.

You did that for us...
What can I do
But praise You?

Did You
Bring me here tonight?

Lord...
Direct my steps, my words...
I don't know what I'm going to say
To the music director
After practice...

Emptied

Lord,
A little over a week ago,
I arrived here,
In Arizona.

I emptied my
Pantries of food...
My closets of clothes...
My apartment of
Furniture, housewares and toys...

I deposited my Pugs
On the doorstep of a friend's friends...

I packed up my workspace,
Sorted and finalized files,
And tried to make a comfortable space
For the woman You brought
To fill my position
At the newspaper.
Right now,
She and I are engaged
In a transference of power,
As I attempt to pour
The accumulated worth of six years' knowledge
Into her open and eager mind.

I have left
Family and friends,
Job and church,
All that is familiar and comfortable,
To come here.

I have never been
So bone-weary, soul-weary tired.

I keep thinking about
What Terry said
The night of the Ash Wednesday service:
"Don't be afraid to pour yourself out."

You know all about that.
You emptied Yourself
For us...

What,
O my Lord God,
Will You now fill me with?...

Morning Mist

86th Street and 18th Avenue.
The fog was so heavy this morning that,
Even now at 9 AM,
It hasn't burnt off the land.
The intersection is bathed in
An otherworldly, golden glow.
Part of me is wondering
If the 99 cent store is open
So I can buy a final roll of packing tape,
But that is suddenly eclipsed
By musings about the Heavenly City.

Does the New Jerusalem
Have that kind of Light about it?

I stop and stare at the elevated train track,
Imagining,
Willing myself to see Beyond...

Thank You, Lord,
For wandering thoughts
That draw me closer
To You...

Stuffed Animals

When I was younger,
There was a small, insistent part of me
That believed my stuffed animals,
At night,
Came to life.

With the vividness and intensity of youth
I would envision
All the named teddy bears, bunnies, and
Other assorted creatures
Awakening, arising
As soon as I fell asleep.

In my dreams,
I saw their lives before they had come to me,
Cavorting in magical castles and forests...
Dueling dragons and shoving off to sea...
Conducting tea parties and grand balls.

I would awaken,
And they'd be just where I'd left them,
But I knew better.

My father performed many sewing feats,
Or tricks with glue,
As he mimicked eye, nose, ear, and limb surgery.
He'd return the patient to me,
And then I was off and running,
Granting very little recovery time
To my fuzzy friend.

Two nights ago,
I sat in the laundromat listening to
Plastic eyes pling against the dryer's glass.
I was donating eight 13-gallon garbage bags
To the church
For their semi-annual thrift sale.

The beginning of a new adventure
For you guys! I thought.

Strange...
A year ago,
I would've taken them all to Arizona.

Now, instead of jealously clinging
To the memories these toys elicit,
I think instead about that child
Who will adopt these toys,
And play with them until they're threadbare.

Father,
Accept this small gift
From my hands,
A letting go of my childhood
So that others can have some.
Grant happy homes to these toys,
And let them bring many smiles
And hours of play
To many faces.

As for you,
Teddy bears, bunnies, and other assorted creatures,
I wish you all good, safe homes,
And children who will love you,
And parents who will fix you when you need fixing.
Make the kids happy.
That is your mission.
Perform it well.
God speed you on the next phase of your journey!

Childhood...

5:07 AM.
I am sitting in the Vegas Diner,
Alone,
Yet not alone.

Accompanying me,
Sitting across from me this morning,
Is my childhood self.

I have been avoiding my dining room
Since I moved in
Because when I moved in,
My dining room
Became the repository
Of my past.
All the items I hadn't been able
To part with -
Toys, games, puzzles, stuffed animals,
Knick-knacks, tchotchkes,
The treasures and trash of my youth -
Have been sitting in there,
Untouched,
These two and a half years.

I woke up at 2 AM,
And couldn't go back to sleep.
Just before 3,
I began cleaning.

Holidays were big in our family.
Christmas and birthdays were occasions
For many, many presents.
I relive these holidays
As I pack up
A crystal-growing kit,
A magic set,
A paper-making kit,
A Mickey Mouse gumball machine,
And countless other odds and ends.
There are many items
Kids will enjoy,
As I enjoyed them,
And I keep thinking about that
As I wipe dust off the boxes.

I was that kid who,
Because I was a pariah,
Spent alot of time at home,
Tinkering.
Microscopes and telescopes,
Magnets and erector sets,
Lego,
And more Lego...
I built,
And explored my world
From the confines of my home.
Mommie and Daddy worked hard
To fuel my brain and imagination.
They helped me retain
Remnants of my childhood
Well into my twenties,
And I am grateful for that.

My childhood self is sitting
Across from me,
Watching me eat
Scrambled eggs, hash browns,
Toast and coffee.
"You're doing the right thing,"
She reassures me.
"They gave to you in love.
Pass it along to others."

I nod, smiling.

Stuff now is merely stuff to me;
I need no further reminders
Of my parents' love,
But what about those parents
Who can't give things to their kids
Because they can't afford to?
And what about those kids
Who are have grown up too fast,
And who know better
Than to ask their parents for anything?

Lord,
Find good homes
For the toys of my youth.
Let them bring joy
To kids who urgently need it!

What is it I've been so afraid of
All this time?...
What is it I've been so possessive of?
It all seems blurry
As I think about the kids
Who will possess
Glow-in-the-dark unicorn decals,
Coloring books,
Marbles,
And teddy bears...

Birdsong

Beneath the 18th Avenue
D train station,
You can stand at dawn
And listen to
The morning songs
Of dozens and dozens of birds.

Before sunrise,
The streets are empty of
Heavy traffic and people.
It's at that point,
When night is yielding to day,
That the sparrows and pigeons and starlings
Burst into song.
It sounds the way
I imagine a tropical rain forest would,
A cacophony of language,
A symphony of avian sound!
Countless bird voices,
Sing their good mornings
To each other
And to God.

What are they saying, I wonder?
My imagination concocts
What I would sing to God
If I was a wild bird...

"O great and wonderful Creator,
Thank You for another day
To fly free in the great blue,
To eat of Your bounty
With my fellow birds,
And to nest in warm, safe places
That You provide for me!
Grant that my bird soul
Beholds Your Beauty
In the World to Come!"

I stand,
And listen,
And think about
Lillies...
And sparrows...

Brooklyn

On the 18th Avenue D train stop,
There is a spot on the platform
On the Bronx-bound side
Where you can stand
And see
The Brooklyn Bridge to the northwest,
And the Verrazano Bridge to the west.

For the past few months,
I have stood at this spot,
And contemplated this place called Brooklyn
That I have called home
These past thirty-five years.

Almost my entire life
Has been enacted here.
Homes. Apartments.
Schools. Churches. Jobs.
Family and friends.
I was brought here
When I was two months old,
And know only this borough
Like the back of my hand.

I have learned alot from living here.
I have experienced the joys of bialys.
I can understand English
Spoken in over twenty distinct accents and dialects.
I can swear in at least three languages.
I know how to melt into the background
And be inconspicuous
From riding the MTA.
I also am fearless when reading
Bus and subway maps.
I was exposed to diversity,
And the customs and cultures from myriad countries.
I hung out in the fifth-largest library system
In the Unites States.
I made special memories at
St. Joseph's College,
The Brooklyn Botanic Garden,
The Waldbaum's on Flatbush and Avenue T,
The Backweeds,
And New Utrecht Reformed Church.

My favorite neighborhoods -
The ones where I spent the most time,
And that are loaded with memories for me,
Include...
Gerritsen Beach,
Marine Park,
Mill Basin,
Bergen Beach,
Sheepshead Bay,
Gravesend,
Downtown Brooklyn,
And Bensonhurst.

Lord,
You sought me here.
Dennis spoke one night
When I was sixteen,
And I felt Your Presence
Palpable to me.
I knew You were calling me then.

Is my move now
Part of answering that call?

I tried running from You,
But you kept pursuing me.
I heard You speak
Through countless friends,
Odd coincidences,
And strange encounters.

Angels walk abroad in Brooklyn,
Masquerading as that woman
Who stopped me
From crossing Flatbush Avenue,
And being hit by a bus...
Or that insistent voice
Telling me to go to Waldbaum's
On my night off,
Only to find Yakov there,
Needing someone to help him escape
From his abusive boyfriend.

Father,
Be with me
As I reorient myself
To a new life led in Arizona.
Continue to bless
My home borough,
And all those people and places
I am separating from.
Be gracious to this place, Father,
This little corner of the world
That is so diverse,
So full of the crossroads of humanity,
And (generally) so down-to-earth.

Be near, dear Lord,
To my family and friends
As I embark on a journey
To a strange land...
But such is the stuff from which
Pilgrimages are made...

The Eternal Now

Father,
This weekend,
My Pugs Romeo and Juliette
Meet their temporary foster family.

I ache over this separation.

My sister brought the Pugs
Into the family.
They came with bowls and a crate.
No toys, no leashes...
Romeo is head-shy,
Which makes me think
He was cuffed around a bit.
One time Juliette ran away from me
When I shook a box of rice too close to her.
I don't know anything
About their early life,
But I would like to think
They are happier now.

No one anticipated
Not living in our house,
And needing to find a home
For all our pets,
But You took care of me.
You found an apartment for me
Where they were okay
With all my animals.

Please, Lord,
Let me be able
To reunite with the Pugs
In six months or less!

In the meantime,
Watch over the Pugs
In their temporary home!
Guide them so that they
Don't do bad things.
Let them be happy and safe,
Protected and loved,
Healthy and whole,
Until I send for them.

Grant that I may find a job,
Find a permanent home,
And greet them in the sunshine!
Until then, let them live
In the eternal now...

I don't know how animals
Experience the passage of time.
I don't think that it's the same as we do.
Let them measure our separation
In time spent in a backyard,
Or naps taken on warm laps,
In meals and treats
And walks on a warm, spring night.
Let them abide in the eternal now,
Where You are,
And where I strive to be with You...

Red Sun

Lord,
In the Superman comics,
Kal-el, better known as Clark Kent,
Derives his superhuman powers
From Earth's yellow sun.
It is known
That if he were to live
On a planet orbiting a red sun
(Like his native Krypton),
He would become
A mere, vulnerable mortal.

I feel like Clark Kent,
Being hurled into the closest red sun.

I feel exposed and vulnerable,
Exhausted, out of sorts,
With still too much to do
And not enough time to do it in.
I am emotional, and cranky,
And the unknown factors
Looming in my near future
Are chipping away at my confidence and control.

Reorient my orbit!
Be the focal point of my revolution,
My life-long journey!
Be the yellow sun
That I orbit around,
And derive strength and hope from!

I'm running out of steam,
And I need help!
Energize me...

Bounty

The goodbyes have begun.
People I am in constant contact with...
People I have not seen in years...
Are reaching out,
Asking to have final meals,
Final drinks,
Final times together
Before I leave for Arizona.

I keep saying
That I will be back,
That I will visit,
But truthfully who other than God
Knows when or how that may be?

Eli,
My Savior and Creator,
My life is as a blink of the eye
Before Your Eternal Throne!
I am little more than dust,
And yet,
You have dealt bountifully
And graciously,
And mercifully
With me!

I was orphaned at birth;
You gave me a family.
Trials and tribulations
Have stalked my family;
You have preserved my life.
Health problems have assaulted me;
You have healed me.
Severe depression tried crushing me;
You snatched my life from certain death.
You have given me
Gifts of music and writing...
The curiosity to constantly learn
And the ability to teach...
Jobs and homes,
Family and friends,
And the peace that comes from knowing
That You are All in All,
That You are Good,
That I am Yours,
And that all Good Things
Will ultimately be restored...

I am achingly aware of
My innate flawed-ness,
And Your goodness toward me.
You have blessed me, Father,
And I thank You for those blessings
That You have poured
And continue to pour
Into my life.

Help me
Pour myself out.
As Terry said
On Ash Wednesday,
"Don't be afraid
To pour yourself out."
Use me
To freely gift Your Bounty
Upon all the creation that I encounter,
Just as You
Have done unto me...

Uncluttering...

Final stages
Of packing up
And cleaning out
The apartment.

This place -
My refuge since November 2009 -
I wish I had spent more time here,
And done more to make it homey,
But perhaps I would've become too attached.
Perhaps even that has its purpose.

I am folding and packaging -
Dismantling and discarding -
Donating and selling -
A lifetime's worth of objects.
My prayer is simple,
And oft repeated
As I break down furniture,
Or carry it downstairs in one piece...
As I bring bags of clothing to the church,
Or guard cups in bubble wrap...

Lord,
Let these things go
To people who need them,
And can use them.
There is so much need in the world!
People are doing without
So many simple things!
A life can be transformed
In a moment's disaster -
Fire and flood and twister
Can wipe out a lifetime's possessions
In the blink of an eye.

I remember life
After the fire.
I remember that feeling
Of being homeless, dispossessed,
Wondering what the next day would bring.
I remember people bringing us
The items and accoutrements of daily life:
Sheets and linens,
Clothes and shoes,
Cups and plates.
Our friend the UPS driver
Even brought us a mattress.

Those possessions brought us hope.
We realized that we could rebuild again.

And so,
I am praying as I pack.
Lord,
Work in that way that You do,
And provide for those who need
From the gifts and possessions
You have given me
Which I now return to You...

Through A Glass Darkly

"For now we see through a glass, darkly; but then face to face: now I know in part; but then shall I know even as also I am known. (1 Corinthians 13:12 KJV)

Lord,
I have often seen
My relationship with You
Reflected in
My relationship with my boss,
The Aussie.

I used to interrupt her
With irritating frequency.
I felt the need
To explain
Every word or action
Escaping me.
I would offer excuses
And justifications
For every project unfinished,
Every mistake surfaced,
And every task left undone.
I would brood and dwell
On my own lack of understanding.
I chafed beneath the
Level of expectation,
And more than once contemplated
Walking away.
We both know
I treated You in like manner.

When I would go home
And cry out of sheer frustration,
Against my will
I would recall a conversation
I'd had with her.
I don't remember the context,
But she said this one line -
"But I'm just a little girl! -"
And even though she was joking,
It was like You were there
Standing next to me, saying,
"I brought her here
Just as I brought you here.
She began this part
Of her journey alone.
Help her.
Serve her
As you would Me."
My heart lurched violently
Beneath the weight
Of what Your Spirit spoke to me.
I did not wish to feel as I did,
But You put it there.

I have wrestled
With Your command
Ever since.

I can tell You
That the lessons
I have learned from her,
Albeit business in nature,
Are manifestations
Of spiritual barriers
That I needed to cross.
I have learned
To stop asking
So many questions
And take it on faith
That someone else
Is more competent than I.
I have learned
That there is a larger picture
Beyond what I see,
And that the one who sees that
Can be trusted to do the right thing
For all parties concerned.
I have learned
That wounded pride
Is a sign of self-pity,
And needs to be purged
Out of one's self fast!
I have learned
That honesty is the best policy,
That time is too precious a commodity
To be wasted on nonsense,
That knowing when to take a break
Is just as valuable a skill
As knowing when to push
A project through to completion.
I have learned the importance
Of communication,
And accountability,
And co-operation,
And open-mindedness.

I've learned more professionally
These past three years
Than in the preceding fourteen,
And I am grateful for the tutelage.

Lord,
The Aussie tells me
To trust the Universe.
I know that You are the Universe...
That You are everywhere,
Sustaining my life and being.

Even though I perceive You
In glimpses and flashes -
Even though now I am encumbered
By flesh and bone and sinew -
I trust, and know
That a time is coming
When You will not use others
To reach me.
Until that day, Lord,
Speak with me as You will.
Help me see You
On the other side
Of the darkened glass...

Sent from my iPhone

Pete's Perilous Journey

Pete
Was picked up
At One MetroTech Center North
A little before 4 PM
On Tuesday afternoon.

I had packaged him
With styrofoam and newspaper,
And poured him and his water
Into a double-layered fish-carrying plastic bag.
A heat pack went with him,
In an attempt to keep him warm.

Pete became a celebrity,
As people inquired why
I had brought a goldfish to work,
And did I really intend to
Overnight him to Arizona?
He was prayed for
By many people that day.
No one knew
How a goldfish would travel
In the belly of a plane!

He was at JFK at 11 PM.
His next checkpoint was Rockford, IL at around 3 AM.
He landed in Phoenix, and was loaded onto the truck, at about 5:25 AM.
At 7:15, he was left on the porch
Of Adalheid's home.

I was on the phone with her
As she opened the package,
And found Pete, very much alive,
(And rather hungry!)
Swimming around in his travel arrangement.
I jumped up in my chair at the office
And gave a thumbs up to several people
Who had already asked me how he was.

To place this all in context,
The box that Pete was supposed to travel in
Got damaged along the way.
"The corals are dead," Adalheid told me.
The king was devastated
Over the loss of his beautiful coral...
And surely, Pete would have suffered
A similar fate had he accompanied them
As had been originally planned.

I wonder what Pete saw and heard
As he traveled.
I would like to think
That he was aware of the Divine Presence
Comforting him, keeping him safe
As he flew across the United States.
In my mind's eye I see...
Jesus, in the cargo hold,
Peering at Pete through the cardboard box,
And smiling to himself
Over that silly girl Blanca
Who was so nervous about his trip.

I couldn't wipe the smile from my face
All day yesterday.
I will gladly - joyously! -
Serve the Lord
Who was kind enough to preserve
The life of one left-behind, forgotten goldfish!