I tried a poetry blog once. I found the exposure too much. But, times have changed and we all talk about ourselves on facebook. I now read other blogs and really appreciate what folks have to say. So, I am going to try it again. This blog will contain essays and poetry that I write. Most all of it is self-referential.
If anyone reads it, cool. If not, it is an electronic version of the journals I used to keep by the bed.
By way of introduction, I am a mother of two humans and multiple pets. I teach part-time at a local University, English, and occasionally at a bigger University (Go Longhorns!). In my dark and distant past I was a United Methodist minister. I still have a call but believe it now to be in teaching more than in preaching. I am married to my childhood sweetheart, who is the best thing God ever game me. He is a software developer and has a PhD in German linguistics. (I know...:) I have been blessed abundantly in this life but still struggle to live the walk and not just talk it. Here is me:
Today I read a witness posted written by my deceased uncle, Russell Kelfer. Reading his work, which has long survived him, made me realize that words are the things that speak down through time. They nourish and flourish with a life of their own. They really are immortal. Perhaps that is what I am seeking. I realize on this day in 2011 that I am middle aged: Forty five and now both parents are deceased. I have been rushing through life, caring for children, teaching and surviving. But now, today, I think there needs to be more.
My health has been precarious and not a little scary of late. I have an autoimmune disorder that is treated each month with an IVIG infusion and now have found I have Celiac's disease and God knows what else.
I am dis-eased. I need a spiritual cure as well as a medical one and I know it. Today I consciously re-gave my heart to my Lord. I am a liberal, progressive type Christian and frankly, doubt is easier than belief.
I am praying to be open to His will and power in my life. I know it is there. I have always known. I had just forgotten and grown angry and distant from Him.
The connecting thread in all this is my uncle. He suffered a great deal physically throughout his relatively short life and yet he did the Work he was sent to do. He was dogged about it. I like the image he used in the piece I read: God uses the broken to show others the way to healing. (That is not exactly what Uncle Rusty said but what I got.) I'm broken. I'm tired and scared.
My sweet daddy, Harold, and my sweet mommy, Kathy, both died from cancer. Both were my theological mentors. I was fortunate to have them: very fortunate. Uncle Rusty was a known factor in my life but not close. Family politics and world-view kept us all apart. And yet, he spoke to me today. I feel like he sent me a message from my family: being broken is okay. "Fear not, then said the angel..." and today I heard.
And the angel told me to speak. And so I have, "The Word is made flesh and dwelt among us, glory to God in the highest."
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