Past Thanksgiving Revisited

I wrote the following essay close to forty years ago... I'm trying (hard) to recapture the innocence of the way I felt when I was writing it, and I'm hoping that I do: I want the reason I feel differently now to be because I've changed and not because the world is different... That way there is the chance that I can continue to change and find again some of the idealism I felt then. Maybe by Thanksgiving 2012, I will have lost my jadedness and be willing to see the pure grace in the simple things mentioned here. I'm going to work towards that goal, anyway! 

            When there is a fire burning slowly in the fireplace and the kitchen smells have sifted throughout the house, I give thanks for the simple things: a baby’s bright smile, a chrysanthemum in full bloom, or just the rustle of leaves blowing in the November gusts.

            When there is a crackle of excitement because company is coming soon, I give thanks for the home that is always warm on the inside when it is cold on the outside. This is the warmth of people: the warmth of laughter and good times, the warmth of optimism and peace, and the warmth of love.

            As I sit drinking a cup of hot spiced cider, I praise the Lord for my family: a family in which togetherness is important, good times are shared by all, and Christ is the head of the household. Ours is a family where individualism is accepted and goals are achieved through the help of all the members.

            As we join hands for grace, we give thanks for the good food, good friends, and good health. We offer a prayer of thanks for the feeling of comfort and belonging that we share, and we hope that our family will continue to serve not only food on Thanksgiving Day, but also warmth and joy.

            We give thanks for our country, a country with the four essential freedoms: freedom of religion, freedom of speech, freedom from want, and freedom from fear. America is a country of hard workers and talented artists, of high mountains and grand canyons, of old philosophers and excited children. The United States is a happy country – for this we are thankful.

            As the day lingers to an end, I am thankful for the enthusiasm of each person as we enjoyed this time together, and I am optimistic that our joy will remain with us. I offer a prayer for more days like this: more days filled with only pleasure. And as I pray, I feel that the Lord, too, is pleased with this Thanksgiving Day.

Michael Moore: Here Comes Trouble

I’ve been a fan of Michael Moore for a long time. I’ve waited impatiently for his documentaries to finally make it to theaters in Alabama after their release, then dragged family members or friends to see the shows when they finally hit the local cinema. These people were always glad I had afterwards, but getting them there was sometimes a chore. Why go see a documentary when you can see a real movie? My daughter gifted me a set of his films several years ago, so I’ve had the chance to share some of his older ones with people at work and with those I volunteer with in social justice endeavors. So, yes, I admire his creative talents and his passion for exposing the truth in his filmmaking. His works have helped change the notion of documentaries and documentarians, and he has stirred up trouble for any and all rascals on the wrong side of his pointed and poignant targeted issues. Needless to say, his politics and mine mesh well, and I appreciate him keeping our stance in the forefront of social and political commentary.

I like him even more, I think, in his current role of recording secretary, unabashed cheerleader, and faithful supporter of the Occupy Wall Street movement in New York and its expanding cities. He’s everywhere right now! Regular guest appearances on several news programs, continuous tweets, and his own blog reports keep me and many others abreast of all that’s happening as he visits and participates in the demonstrations in whatever city he happens to be. He started his own ruckus against Wall Street a couple of years ago with the release of his film “Capitalism: A Love Story”, so I’m sure he is wallowing in the fact that others now get the point he was trying to make… not just getting it, but actually lending their voices and their bodies to draw attention to the issue of the wealthy and money-powerful having it all. I applaud those who are willing to keep their voices in the fray, and I applaud Michael Moore for keeping attention riveted to their words and emotions on display.

And all of this beginning and going on in the midst of a new book launch and tour! Although his appearances on television because of Occupy Wall Street might aid the advertisement and sell of his new book, his already-scheduled appearances to promote the book surely solidified and supported his efforts for Occupy Wall Street. The book, “Here Comes Trouble: Stories from my Life”, certainly solidifies my belief that there is no better spokesperson than Michael Moore for any issue for which he has the passion to defend. The book is simply a compilation of life stories that illustrate the becoming of  this man and some of the thought processing that contributed to that growth.

Even before the chapters began, I was empathizing with the writer: His dedication to his mother for teaching him to read at four and for wanting to commit his stories to paper “while paper (and bookstores and libraries) still existed” hit home as the same discussion that my generation has entertained for the last few years. And then, early into the book, I realized that this would be a journey through my own childhood in a way, just seen through the stories of someone else… and what stories are told in these pages! I’ve always countered Maya Angelou’s acknowledgement that “There is no greater agony than to bear an untold story” with my own lament of, “No, it’s even worse to have no stories to tell”. Once again, while reading “Here Comes Trouble”, I feel keenly the unwritten pages of my own life’s storybook, and am humbled by the courage and conviction shown in many of the stories… and really jealous of what, in some circumstances, can be deemed simply as sheer luck experienced by the author!

Born in the same year, into much the same lifestyle, Michael Moore’s life and mine followed many of the same paths. Although we felt much the same on many of the issues discussed, I think he was sooner to see what was going on… I felt the same fears, senses of injustice, and intense passions falling on both the pro and con sides of what was happening in our lives… I just wasn’t as quick to grasp the stark reality of a lot of it. Whereas he was quick to throw caution to the wind and act on his beliefs, I was way too guilty of being swayed by caution. And the people he’s met and gotten to know, working with and joining in communion through thought and spirit… it could make anyone envious!

I highly recommend this book for everyone to read, especially if you’re turning fifty-seven this year, like I am tomorrow. What happened to Michael Moore in the Flint, Michigan area, happened to me in Huntsville, Alabama, and later on in the Ft. Worth-Dallas area of Texas. I’m sure the same things were happening all over the country. But this read is more than a walk down memory lane, it’s a revisiting of what made him, and me, and many of our generation who we are. It’s sometimes humbling, sometimes embarrassing, sometimes down-right sad. But it is us, and this years-long snapshot shows a true picture of the good, the bad, and yes, the very ugly, that formed us as individuals and as a society.

I’ve enjoyed my “Michael Moore immersion experience” for the last month, or so. After reading his stories (and listening to them, too); constantly seeing his face on television; and traveling with him via tweets and twitters, I not only like him more, I also respect him. He is a man deeply convicted by his faith, accepting the directive of the real Jesus that tells us to look into the eyes of those in poverty, pain, and the shackles of injustice, and in return, to welcome these same people into our hearts. He doesn’t stop there, though: He tries to do something about the conditions in which he finds these people. He isn’t just a rebel for rebellion’s sake: He loves the United States and wants it to be the ideal that we espouse it to be. He thinks paying taxes is patriotic. He also uses his celebrity to open doors for his creative work and for the good of his chosen missions. He celebrates diversity of race, religion, gender, and experiences and condemns the inequity and inequality of racism, of under-education, and in the disparity of classism. He feels, as I do, that when we say “Let all God’s children say ‘Amen!’, we mean all God’s children, indeed. I really like Michael Moore.

Just a note…

Michael Moore has been successful in teaching his messages of the rights of hard-working Americans, gun control, political sins, insurance company and medical injustices, and the harm of corporate and political greed. We have seen him in New York, Oakland, Washington, D.C., and Portland in the last few weeks supporting the Occupy Wall Street movement. He courageously speaks his mind and makes his point in a world of fast-talking, business-minded, political-contesting, and media-bombarded society that garners him fans, of course, but enemies as well. I hope he brings his passion and grit, along with his book tour, further South before too long: It might do him good to get a slight change in pace, even if it might feel like a snail-crawl pace that is taking him too fast back in time. I’ve already extended him an invitation for his “Home Book Tour” to stop here in North Alabama. I hope he comes. He might bring trouble with him, as it seems he often does, but his visit would be like a deep breath of clean air or a long, cool drink of clear water for me… and as we enter into the cold winter months and even colder political new year, I can’t imagine anything better than a clear head, cleansed palette, and the for-sure inspiration a visit from Michael Moore would bring. 

NaNoWriMo: National Novel Writing Month

            It’s November, so that means that once again we all get to set the goal to write a novel … or at least 50,000 words… this month. Who else is up for the challenge?

            The project is sponsored by the Office of Letters and Light: Besides NaNoWriMo, OLL also sponsors Script Frenzy, the Young Writer’s Project, and Camp NaNoWriMo. You can find out more about each of these at the websites listed below. I personally have been a part of NaNoWriMo several times, winning once; Script Frenzy once, when I won; and I registered for Camp NaNoWriMo both sessions this past summer, but had to “go home early” both times without winning. And although I haven’t won the challenges more than I have won, each time I participated I actually put some words on paper during the allotted time… so, I think I was successful each time I tried!

            The whole idea behind these programs is to get people to write. As a lover of books and a former reading teacher, I think it’s a great idea! And not only does the NaNoWriMo staff challenge you to write, but they cajole you and caress you and captivate you with light humor and bright ideas that make you want to write: In other words, they make the process fun!

            Community is a big concept in these programs. Not only is every participant welcomed into the NaNoWriMo family, there’s also the chance to buddy up with someone you know, or someone you meet through this new family of writers. There are Municipal Liaisons for nearly every region in the world it seems. These folks provide geographically-close support by offering gatherings and communal writing sessions. Local libraries and bookstores participate by opening their doors for writing sessions throughout the month.

            I’m a part of USA: Alabama: North region. Although I’ve gotten emails from the MLs in years past, this is the first year I will be participating in any of their planned activities. I’ve already attended the pre-kickoff lunch a couple of weeks ago, where I met a few people, ate good Mexican food, and received a bag of goodies from the MLs that was chocked full of thought starters, fun playthings, and creative sparks. Thanks, Amy and Bryan: I look forward to getting to know both of you during the course of this month’s writing. I know these volunteer positions take great energy and attention… just know your efforts are appreciated!

            The programs offered by the Office of Letters and Light are supported by individual contributions. I am personally going to try fundraising for the effort… when one does not have any money herself, but believes in an idea and wants to support that idea, then one must do what she has to do. I’ll post my fundraising address soon: Please visit! And if you have a little bit to offer, please do: I don’t profit from these funds, just the programs listed above.

            So, it’s now officially Day 1 of NaNoWriMo! There’s plenty of time for anyone to go to the website and sign up to participate. I’d love to be your buddy, especially if that might help you try harder to meet your goal: I’m sure it would help me stay on course, too. I personally am going to continue work on the Chick Lit story I barely started during one of the camp sessions this summer. Who knows? Maybe I’ll have a novel-length manuscript by the end of November… but if not, I will at least be further along than I would have been if I didn’t try. C’mon! Be a part of the writing and see just how many words you have by the final word count at the end of the month!

www.lettersandlight.org

www.nanowrimo.org

www.ywp.nanwrimo.org

www.scriptfrenzy.org

GLOBAL WOMEN: Global Women Summit, Huntsville, Alabama

I attended the Global Women’s Summit this past weekend to get a feel for what the organization was and who the women were that made up the organization. I should be ashamed, I know, but I just didn’t know what to expect from a women’s organization based in Alabama. I can say this because I was born and raised an Alabamian, and live here, by choice. So mine was an internal wondering, not one from someone on the outside looking in… but from one who wants us, Alabama, to be and become all it can be.

Of course, Global Women is made up of women (and men) from throughout the United States and the world. I was inspired by each and every one of the bright, open-minded, open-hearted women I spoke to throughout the conference, whether she was a presenter or participant during the sessions or a table partner during one of the meals we shared together. These women believe in and represent their Christian faith through their actions and in bringing relationships to the center of their service. A strong grassroots effort to build community seems to be the key to the success in growing the organization: The efforts during the planning, organizing, and production of the yearly summit is a strong tool that serves as invitation for membership. When each gathering ends, a core of newly energized volunteers and board members remain to grow and carry on the seeds begun during the summit weekend.

It took only the opening session for me to have hope that this was, indeed, both a conference that I could enjoy as a learning experience, and an organization of which I could be proud. The opening was well planned and was the beginning of beautiful prayers and litany meant to touch the very soul of womanhood that were a part of the entire weekend. The well-written and well-performed story of Ruth and Naomi continued as a theme from beginning to end: As one of my all-time favorites, it felt fresh and new as we watched the relationship grow from mother to daughter to daughter to mother to sister to sister. And who knew Al Garrett could sing? Not me… but he does, and he does well!

The summit offerings of whole-group gatherings, investigative sessions, fun and informational mealtimes, a fair trade gift fair, hands-on participation in missions projects, film festival, and guided prayer experience filled the weekend with more than enough from which each attendee could choose. I was impressed with the excellence of presentation and variety of choice from a professional standpoint and excited with anticipation from that of a participant. It was hard to decide just how to fill each segment of the schedule.

It was hard except for the first segment. Several years ago, after I hit my fifties, I decided it was facetious to continue to say, “When I grow up, I’m going to…”, so I’ve changed it to “When I grow old (and get to retire), I’m going to…”. I want to become an itinerant midwife/doula, going wherever there is a need I can help fill, so, of course, my first Global Opportunity choice was to attend the investigative session “The Friendship of Maternal Health”. The passion and knowledge exhibited by the presenter, Suzanah Raffield, solidified not only commitment to my goal, but also commitment to serving the world’s poor. Her grasp of who she is as a person and her role as a child of God humbled me: I may have possibly been as adamant as she at her age, but I certainly do not know even now how to convey my convictions as she does.

“Community Without Borders” was led by Diana Bridges and was also an inspiring hour of suggestions and ideas for welcoming and forming relationships with international residents within our communities. One woman asked just how someone could get involved with internationals within her own community, especially as an introvert. The answer of calling any ESL program and volunteering to be conversation partners with students was one that I hadn’t thought of, but one that even I could easily do, with the promise of being a good experience for both my conversation partner and myself. Diana, too, was well-spoken, passionate, and sincere in her presentation and I was impressed with her commitment of friendship to those she has chosen to serve.

I met Neerja Rajeev Prasad at lunch on the first day, so I committed to attend her presentation on “Gender Justice” first thing Saturday morning. I’m so glad I did! She is a Presbyterian Peacemaking Committee Guest at the tail end of her time in the US. She will be returning to her home of Jabalpu, India, at the end of the month to continue her work there with the Women’s Fellowship for Christian Service. Her session dealt with how simply being female affects the lives of women in India, touching on the subjects of domestic abuse, arranged marriages, and human trafficking. She was eloquent in her words and manner, passionate in her care for the women she serves, and kind in her friendship. I hope to stay in contact with Neerja and follow her continued successes.

I knew Global Women was a serious organization whose purpose is serving the real needs of women when I learned their three main areas of effort were women’s and maternal health, economic empowerment, and human trafficking. After spending the weekend with the women that make up the organization, I believe it will continue to grow and be successful because of these organizational attitudes:

• Global Women partners with existing organizations, utilizing the time, talents, and energies already in place to help administer, supplement and enhance chosen projects.
• Global Women asks those women they serve what they need and how might they be successful in meeting those needs.
• Global Women looks into the eyes of the women they serve, learning who they are and calling them by name… the organization’s relationships are with the women participants, not with the projects themselves. Although each person involved and the organization itself is led by their Christian faith and commitment to serve those in poverty and need, their testimony and witness comes from their acts of care and service to the individual women they form relationships with and the community they grow among the women they serve.

These thoughts are my own: I have yet to even read the Global Women Mission Statement: This is what I discerned after one long day and half of another spent in prayer, service, learning, and fellowship with the group of women meeting at my church. Their website is listed below. I encourage you to research the organization and determine your own thoughts and feelings, and whether or not you can meet their passion in serving women in need.

I’d like to thank Cindy Dawson, Global Women Executive Director, and her staff and Board that allowed me to participate in the summit. I come away having rekindled a couple of old friendships: One woman I worked closely with through Huntsville Housing Authority who feels, like me, that we have a personal mission to accomplish in service to global women, and one who stood with me and other Women in Black to protest impending wars in Iraq and Afghanistan, whose words “Let’s hope we will be more successful in other endeavors”, reminded me that we just have to keep trying. I met two women I didn’t know from my own congregation and many that live away with whom I hope to stay connected. The stories of women being served through Global Women touched my heart, the participating women’s passion buoyed my soul, and the liturgy and litanies for and about women made my spirit sing. As a woman and as an Alabamian, I’m proud to call each of you sister…. and let ALL God’s children say “Amen”!

 http://www.globalwomengo.org   

Happy Birthday! Grace: Saint Francis of Assisi

Lord, make me an instrument of your peace. Where there is hatred, let me sow love; where there is injury, pardon; where there is doubt, faith; where there is despair, hope; where there is darkness, light; where there is sadness, joy. O Divine Master, grant that I may not so much seek to be consoled as to console; to be understood as to understand; to be loved, as to love… For it is in giving that we receive, it is in pardoning that we are pardoned, and it is in dying that we are born to eternal life.

                                                                                  ~Saint Francis of Assisi

            I’ve learned many lessons from Saint Francis over the years since my high school days. I can’t say those were the best days of my life, but I can honestly admit to a little wistfulness as I remember finally being allowed to wear jeans to school, pairing those jeans with a flannel shirt, and listening to John Denver sing the words of Michael Murphy as he told the simple story of “The Boy from the Country”.  Growing up at the tail-end of the Civil Rights Movement, I now have many heroes and sheroes from that era, but at that time I didn’t appreciate them as I do now. Since then, I’ve learned to embrace Gandhi and his teachings; the real-life lessons taught by the fictional characters of “To Kill a Mockingird” have helped me form my own moral character; and although I have never met her, I count Maya Angelou as the mentor of my soul because of what her writings have said to me through the countless reading and re-reading of them. But it was Saint Francis that first introduced me to personal passion and individual responsibility to become that person one was meant to be. In a way, Saint Francis was my first crush: He garnered and encouraged my own passion in both what he had said and in the way he lived his life. I had never known anyone like him, real or fictional, dead or alive… and I marveled at how simply he lived his life and how happy he was in doing so.

            My younger brother used to kid me about “Francis, the Sissy”, and I took offense at his poking fun at him. I now understand that if waging peace and loving people is seen as weak, then so be it: I’m sure Saint Francis had a redneck badge of honor gained from not only grit, but grace as well. He certainly was no coward: One has to be strong in conviction and faith to turn his back on his family and turn towards God’s promises as Francis Bernadone did. His complete acceptance of Jesus and his teaching of faith found in Matthew 6:25-34 is a lesson in complete trust with which I continue to struggle: But I have an example that it can be done through the story of the poor little monk of Assisi. His story is important not just because of what he said or even for what he did. It is important because of how he lived.

            Both biographers and songwriters stress that Saint Francis chose to not see the forest for the trees: He chose to see the individual and to live in compassion with those that were in poverty, in pain, and in need. Rereading Jim Wallis’ article in “Cloud of Witnesses” as we start another year of JustFaith fellowshipping, I am reminded that Saint Francis listened intently... with his ears, with his eyes, and with his heart. The people he served knew that they were important to the man small in stature yet great in love, simply because he listened to them, looked at them, and knew them for who they were.

            We need to take this lesson from Saint Francis and make it our own. Yes, the social injustices and blatant inequities of the world can be overwhelming, if we look at only the big picture. So much poverty, so much pain, and so much ugliness can make our eyes glaze over. But if we remember to look into the eyes of those we wish to serve, and open our ears and our hearts to them as individuals, then we can see each person for who they are and not simply as a part of mass devastation. This, I think, is the lesson of compassion and solidarity Saint Francis taught us.

            Back in those high school years long ago, I wrote a little verse that applies somewhat to the birthday wishes for today:

                                    Friendship is like

                                                an old flannel shirt:

                                    warm,

                                                soft,

                                                            and comfortable.

I want to be warm and comfortable in living the lessons learned from Saint Francis, but I know to live those lessons I must be ready and willing to roll up my sleeves, wear my old jeans, and walk through the forests of needs… making eye contact with individuals and listening with my heart to know who each of them are. So, Happy Birthday, Saint Francis! And may we all have many more shared with you as we look for our own area of service in Jesus’ name.

Wintering in Mexico

I’ve always wanted a fairy godmother…

I’ve longed for someone that, with the wave of her magic wand or just a gentle touch of her loving hand, could make my life better… that could make me a better person.

Instead, I’m visited by the violent and emotional Kali, a Mother Goddess from Hindu tradition. Kali is the Goddess of inward searching that requires change and whose change, or refusal to change, evokes chaos. Championing both creation and destruction, Kali is most often felt during dark soul-searching and demon-probing.

It seems I have gotten to know Kali well over the years.

When I think about myself, I know that I am a capable, intelligent, responsible person who accomplishes many things.

When I feel about myself, it is something altogether different…

I feel that I am capable of being that woman described above, but I’ve never gotten anywhere near being her.

I want to be that woman.

In many ways, I feel this wanting to become is just a waste of time: I am who I am and nothing will change that. So, enter my personal demons, the ones that encourage me to ignore my needs and to wallow in apathy and self-destructive habits.

Kali manifests herself in these demons, demanding that I accept the fight to change, or suffer the misery of not changing and the guilt associated with that defeat…

Change.

That word… that concept.

The Monarch butterfly is a symbol of change.

Butterflies must die to being a caterpillar before they can reemerge as a beautiful butterfly, spending time in darkness that allows them to change completely.

Maybe I need to die to being the person I am and look forward to becoming the new, beautiful me, just like the majestic black and orange Monarchs…

Because…

Even if I can’t be a butterfly, I know I can enjoy wintering each year in Mexico!!!

PHinisheD!

Thanks to all of you listed below: I'm finally PHinisheD!

Dissertation:
ENCOURAGING WOMEN'S CREATIVE CONFIDENCE: A CASE STUDY OF WOMEN'S INSIGHTS INTO THEIR OWN CREATIVE

Dedication

            This is dedicated to the Triple Goddess in every woman, but especially to my own Triple Goddess reality: My daughter, Allie, as Maiden, and my mother, Mildred, as Crone, for their support during this learning experience. Their love has allowed me to realize my emerging transition from Mother into Grace, and continues to encourage me to share my insights with other women in their personal growth.

Acknowledgements

            Many wonderful women and a few great men have been instrumental in empowering me to complete this study. My committee chair, Elizabeth Bruch, has become both my mentor and friend: Thanks, Liz! My other committee members, Jo Kijas and Richard Schrek, have been invaluable through their professional expertise and personal contributions. My thanks to them, and to Donna Connolly, who in sharing her knowledge and candor, made my entire Capella experience richer. I appreciate my creative experts: Marylyn Coffee, Heather Pleasants, and Karen Thompson. Thanks to Sarah Hale and Ricky Power for their financial willingness. Thanks also to Don Howard for his insight on creativity’s theories and its processes. And to all of the Graces who participated in this study, who shared their thoughts and feelings about the past and their hopes and dreams for the future, I say thank you to: Ann, Bama Girl, Ebonee, Ernestine, JoAnne, Kate, Louise, Mary, Mel, Molly, Pearl, Rosie, and Sunshine.

                                                          

Blackberry Dreams

As a bright, open-minded, open-hearted woman of the Deep South, I've long accepted that mine may always prove to be blackberry dreams: Those wonderful plans, rising from the pits of personal chaos, that create multitudes of dainty, faintly fragrant blooms tempered by that final bitter-cold cold-snap that turns on a dime into the unrelenting months of blistering heat, which may, in fact, provide a bumper crop of the biggest, plumpest fruit, but more often as not, no matter how black the berry or sweet the juice, leave those damn seeds between my teeth for days that make me wonder more than once, "Was it really worth it?"

"Will it really be worth it?" I wonder as I interview one more woman concerning her thoughts on creativity, her own creativity, and the level of creative confidence she has, or wants to have... or merely wishes she has, as some of the women seem to want more creativity and the confidence that comes with that creativity, but that somehow just don't understand that they may have to make a move toward their own creation of self and who they want to become.  

Too many times in the course of the dissertation process, I have understood all too clearly that this is simply a trial of perseverance, albeit that at one time I thought that society, and the individual people that make up society, had put academics and scholars in their ivory towers out of respect, and from maybe just a tad bit of intimidation, but it didn't take me too long into the process to understand I was wrong: It's the scholars and the academics that have placed themselves in those towers, and too many, once there, try so very hard to dissuade all those that want to join them on their self-erected pedestals.

And then I, realizing the truth, must look at why I want to join them. Whereas, at one time, I thought it would be proving to myself, and to others, that I was smart enough to get my PhD, I think that now it is more a point of not letting people down: Not people, you understand, who have supported me and encouraged me in my endeavor, because quite frankly there's very, very few of them, but people - these women I was talking about - that need to see that someone like me, and someone like them, can do something that simply requires making up ones mind to do it.

So, I too, need to jump down quick from whatever tower in which I thought I might reside (although I most definitely would have built mine of both ebony and ivory, being that bright, open-minded, open-hearted woman from the Deep South that I am) and realize that instead of finishing my PhD for my sake, that the actual doing of my research and the completing of this degree may very well be worth it if it encourages and inspires any of these women - women just like me - who don't know that they are capable of becoming more of who they want  to be, but who may learn that if we allow a woman to grow in the confidence of her own creativity she is encouraged to become the one she is meant to be… and, even better, that if we nurture that woman to explore and expand her creativity, she becomes a masterpiece.

Grace Be Gone: Dorothy Ford

I was greatly humbled at Dorothy’s funeral.

Not because of the dignitaries that spoke, although I know that would have pleased Dorothy. Not because of the number in attendance, although the church sanctuary was full to capacity. Not because of the eloquence of the many preachers presiding, although their words rang true. Not even because of the rows of pews filled with her family members, each grieving in the sadness of their loss.

I was humbled because each of the people there were in attendance because of their relationships with Dorothy: relationships grown out of mutual respect and love. There was never anything one-sided about Dorothy: She would do anything for you, unless, of course, Church, Family, Boy Scout Troop 400, or the Huntsville Housing Authority had already scheduled her during the time you needed her. She chose her commitments well, and honored those commitments even better.

I recently described Dorothy as mother, grandmother, great-grandmother and full-time volunteer. Although it seemed her time wasn’t her own, she always found the time to stop, sit, and talk for a while. And she listened. The stopping and talking and the sitting and listening was the secret to her successful relationships. She didn’t just work with those dignitaries that spoke that Saturday, she counseled with them. There were more than several of her graduating high school class in attendance at her funeral: Those were friendships that had been nurtured for years. Many of my former co-workers were in attendance; some of their relationships with Dorothy I knew, some I didn’t. There were those in attendance like me, that may have started out in the role of encourager, who later became the encouraged. The clergy that were at her funeral good-naturedly kidded about wooing her from one pastor to another, but it was clear each of them would have been proud to have Dorothy in their flock. And although I had always known that Dorothy was matriarch to a large family, I never realized just how large until the day of her Homegoing. It humbled me greatly to realize that each of these people, and many more, had enjoyed a relationship with Dorothy, time spent with her in stopping and talking and sitting and listening. And we were all there to witness Jesus calling her softly to come Home to Him, ready to continue their long talks and let their relationship grow even stronger.

Grace be gone, Dorothy; but Grace is not forgotten.

Real Words

Maya Angelou states that, “There is no agony like bearing an untold story inside of you.”  

That’s easy for someone to say when she has story after story after story to tell, as Dr. Angelou certainly does.  

But for me, my very soul reacts when I read those words with whispers and shouts, “It’s even worse having no story to tell at all!” 

I have always loved to write… 

And I have a hunger to say something to the world that will touch people in a way that other people’s stories have touched me. 

The very real fictional characters of To Kill a Mockingbird have helped form much of my social beliefs. 

The sentiments that ALL are responsible for peace and everyone should be anti-war expressed in Cold Mountain helped me explain my own feelings in the last few years about our present political situations. 

Exodus introduced me to passion, although as I grew older and realized that there are always at least two sides to every story, my views of the content have metamorphed. 

I misunderstood my teachings from Christy, believing I was to be a teacher: Instead, I think I was to take away from it the sense of adventure one can experience in doing her life’s calling. 

Maya Angelou’s series of autobiographical writings and her viewpoints on life’s lessons have inspired me as I have grown older. I count her very much as the mentor of my soul… and I know her only through the words she has written and spoken to the masses. 

Oh, to say and write words that can touch another so deeply! 

And, oh, to have lived a life full of stories that can teach and inspire others! 

To write! 

To share! 

To live life to its fullest!

Starts and Finishes

Time comes when decisions have to be made to move forward with one’s life, forging towards the new and unknown and letting go of the hurtful and burdensome…

That time has come for me, and hopefully, this will be the beginning of my time.

Too much of life is out of my control right now, and that is an unsettling feeling; but in that feeling brings an opportune time for change. Several big challenges have the prospects of being finished in the coming days, which is a presage of new beginnings. I choose to embrace this presage, not as a foretelling of gloom, but simply as significance in regard to my future. In fact, embracing the experience in the way the word looks, I prefer to think of this time as my preparation in becoming one who is regarded as knowledgeable, wise, and experienced: a sage, or better yet, a Crone.

So, this is a time, my time, for new, and fresh, starts. This blog is one way I am trying something new, reaching out to others to hear their thoughts on issues and feelings and events that are important to them, and that are important to me. Who knows where it will lead? But I have always been told that the journey is much more important than any destination; so I’m ready to start traveling, wherever that may lead.

Anyone, and everyone, is welcome along for the journey, and I invite each one of you, individually, to walk beside me whenever you can. I welcome your company and look forward to our conversations. As creator of this blog, I will manage it as Woman of Amber; as participant in discussions, I will contribute under my own name.