Grace Notes

"I do not want the peace which passeth understanding, I want the understanding which bringeth peace." - Helen Keller

Fantasy Bust of a Veiled Woman (Margeurite Bellanger?)
Albert-Ernest Carrier-Belleuse, c. 1865-1870, terracotta
Chester Dale Collection, National Gallery of Art, Washington D.C.

The last two weeks have been extraordinary, profound, and healing.

Just days after my mother's passing, I traveled to Maine to meet a dear friend and see my daughter perform in a ballet there, and then with only one full day in between trips (barely enough to unpack and pack again), I traveled east again, this time to spend a few days with two friends in D.C.

I struggled mightily with the decision to continue with my plans for these two trips. I had just suffered a significant loss. I was in pain. I wanted to curl up and hide under the covers. I was wrapped in grief.

In fact, when I saw the bust pictured above at the National Gallery a few days ago, I was covered with chills and thought to myself, "That's just how it feels." Veiled. Swathed in yards of heavy sadness. Grief, thy name is Margeurite.

Two weeks ago, I thought these two trips might be inappropriate or ill-adivised. I wasn't sure I could physically go. Could I even find the energy to pack one suitcase? Two seemed impossible. I wondered if I could make it emotionally. Tears come at unexpected times when we're grieving. Would I completely embarrass myself? What if I burst into tears in the middle of the airport? Or worse, in the midst of happy friends?

What I understand now is that there are no accidents. These trips that were planned well in advance of my mother's death had been scheduled at the perfect time with the perfect people in the perfect settings for the purpose of healing. I am in awe, and I am so very grateful for having decided to make these two trips. 

They were grace notes in grief's symphony.

[Grace notes are extra notes 'suggested' by the composer (they are indicated in classical works by printing a note that is much smaller than a regular note, sometimes with a slash through the note stem) for extra embellishment, but not necessary for the harmony or melody of a composition.]

They aren't necessary...just rather special and really appreciated.

As I progressed through the last two weeks, the layers of weighty sadness fell away slowly and gently, removed tenderly by family and friends who care for me.  The heavy veil was lovingly replaced by a weightless armor of understanding and peace.

If you offered a word of comfort, a hug, an act of kindness, or a smile to me in the last few weeks, know that I heard and saw and felt it. Each act is a grace-filled note in the poignant symphony of grief.

It isn't exactly necessary to the process, but very special and deeply appreciated.

I will share more about these trips, but for today, I want to leave it here...in grace.

May you have added grace notes to your symphony today.

Music today is Mischa Maisky playing the Prelude to Bach's Cello Suite No. 1. Enjoy.

Angels Among Us


I'm feeling much better about the world today. Well, I really could have used one more snow day with my grandchildren, but we can't have everything, right?  While everyone else seems to be complaining about the inefficient snow removal in their municipalities, I find myself extremely disappointed at the ridiculously effective snow removal here in Weldon Spring. Really? Six inches of snow, and all we get is one lousy snow day? Something's got to be done about this.

But back to the subject at hand. The encouraging sighting of angels all around us during this dark time. As Martin Luther King, Jr. reminded us, darkness can only be overcome by light, and the light shining from these angels is brilliant, indeed.

I'm referring today to earthly angels...like the community activist in Tuscon who has gathered a small army of angels to protect a grieving family from an army of hate-mongers intent on disrupting the burial of their precious little girl. These angel/people, nearly 300 as of last night, will dress in white and line the streets and entrances to the cemetery. About thirty of them will be equipped with 'wings,' poles of draped white fabric meant to shield the immediate family from the "protesters" from Westboro Baptist "Church." These angel/people will not wave banners, hurl insults, or make threats. They will not get in anyone's face to thrust their opinions upon them. They won't get loud, angry, or malicious.

They will not inflict hate upon the hate-mongers, for hate only begets hate.

They will simply, peacefully, beautifully, stand in loving solidarity with the family, forcing the darkness out with the light. 

The message is this; "Do what you will. Darkness will always be overcome by Light. Hate will always be overcome by Love."

I hope this message reaches extremists everywhere who are intent on spreading fear and hate.I'm counting on lots of angels to deliver it.



These thoughts sent me on a quest to find how angels are portrayed by great artists...here's some of what I found. (Angels in art can be found in all cultures throughout history.  These three examples just appealed to me today.)




St. Francis and the Angel – Orazio Gentileschi, 1613


Early 1600's we see the portrayal of angels as guardians of the saints and martyrs of early Christianity. Note the use of contrasting light and dark (chiaroscuro) on the angel.



I love the angels in the painting below by French painter Bouguereau. Who wouldn't love to be serenaded by a trio this heavenly?


Song of the Angels - William-Adoph Bouguereau, 1881

 

Finally, we have the noble archangel Michael. Michael is often depicted armed with a sword, though I don't think he needs it. I guess it's more of a "walk softly but carry a big stick" metaphor. Michael is also depicted with a face of great peace and beauty, confident in the knowledge that love will always conquer evil. Note one more common theme...Satan under his foot.

St. Michael the Archangel, Scipione Tadolini, 1865

 
Wishing you a day filled with hope for the future.

The Passage Through the Darkness and the Mist

The American flags are lowered to half staff today. President Obama has decreed a moment of silence to be observed at 10:00 a.m. CST in honor of the victims. Along with the rest of the country, I'm at a loss to understand.

I was both appalled and saddened all day yesterday by the tragedy that occured in Arizona on Saturday. Twenty people shot at a grocery store? Six people dead? How is this possible? A nine year old child was one of the victims. For heaven’s sake, what is wrong with us?

I avoided the television altogether. I’m afraid I’ve had my fill of the ‘news’ networks, who really don’t give us much in the way of news, but continue to rehash and repackage old news all day long. Every network seems to place an emphasis on “getting the scoop” on other networks while ignoring the accuracy or ethics of the stories they offer up.

Anyway, nothing I attempted to do to assuage the grief worked for long. I meditated. Rather, I tried to meditate.I took a good long soak in a very hot tub, filled with every elixir I owned, from soothing lavender essential oil, to luxurious bath foam, to my precious gold oil. I baked cookies with my grandchildren…lots of cookies, ginger snaps and chocolate chip, to be precise. I played with them and read to them. I wanted nothing more than to look at their angelic faces all day. My heart was heavy. Still is heavy.

I’m concerned about the ethos of our country as a whole, and what it will take to turn the tide of anger we see being played out again and again…anger which gnaws away at our country’s character with each attack. As I told a friend, I believe that every individual is now called upon to turn the tide in our own hearts away from hate and toward love, and thereby collectively heal the spirit of America, which suffers so greatly today.

The problems we face in these turbulent times are not new to our democracy. Abigail Adams wrote these words to her husband, John Adams, in the late 1700’s;

“These are the times in which a genius would wish to live. It is not in the still calm of life, or the repose of a pacific station, that great characters are formed. The habits of a vigorous mind are formed in contending with difficulties. Great necessities call out great virtues. When a mind is raised, and animated by scenes that engage the heart, then those qualities which would otherwise lay dormant, wake into life and form the character of the hero and the statesman."


Where are our heroes and statesmen? Where are the great characters of this era? I hope they step forward soon and take their places alongside the other great heroes of American history. Please hurry...I’m not sure we can wait much longer.

Yesterday afternoon, as often happens when I’m preoccupied, a song began to play in my head, the words repeating over and over; “a place in which our children can grow free and strong.” James Taylor. “Oh, yeah,” I thought, “Shed a Little Light.” I know it’s still a few days early for Martin Luther King Day, but this poem in song, meant as a tribute to him, could not be more appropriate today. The lyrics, in part, read,

”We are bound together,
In our desire to see the world become,
A place in which our children
Can grow free and strong.

We are bound together,
By the task that stands before us,
And the road that lies ahead,
We are bound and we are bound…”


As Abigail pointed out, great necessities call out great virtues. We are bound together. It’s time to call out the great virtues within us so that the light can overcome this darkness.

Wishing you a light-filled day.

The Artist's Reply

‎"This will be our reply to violence: to make music more intensely, more beautifully, more devotedly than ever before.” - Leonard Bernstein


From the tragedy of the African slave trade, to the heartache of the Trail of Tears...from Auschwitz to Northern Ireland to Normandy, Tripoli, and Tibet...from every corner of the world, music and art have arisen from the depths of despair to comfort and redeem the human race.

Thanks to my friend, opera soprano Christine Brewer, for this poignant quote. Thanks, also, for the great contributions she and other artists have made to our collective soul.

Today I take comfort in the music of Jules Massenet's opera, Thais. This particular portion is called "Meditation," and is played by the incomparable Israeli/American violinist, Itzhak Perlman.

I wish you Peace.

Back to the Future...again.

Chez Lucas

from Jo Floyd Lucas

Our American culture is complex and sometimes contradictory. We like to imagine that we are one family, but we certainly can be dysfunctional at times. We talk about the ‘melting pot,’ the ‘salad bowl,’ and other metaphors for diverse people coming together, but we’ve proven time and again how very difficult that can be to really accomplish.

Except in times of trial. When the going gets tough in America, America gets going. We learn to work together as a team, no matter how hard it may be.

It’s natural at this time of year to think of the Pilgrims. Despite how we have wrongly romanticized this group, one thing is certain…these intrepid souls staked everything on a very risky venture to settle in a wilderness far from anything familiar to them. They learned early on that cooperation with each other was imperative for their very survival.

Likewise, the pioneers, a competitive, tenacious group of individuals, learned to travel in communal groups and ‘circle the wagons’ as an effective way to protect the larger group.

Through the years, my mother has recounted stories of ‘The Great Depression’ to us. Stories of her family of fourteen struggling together to survive…her older brother leaving school to work on a river boat, children eating mustard sandwiches, everyone pooling their resources to make ends meet.

Later, during World War II, when most of the men had enlisted and were overseas, times were just as hard, if not harder. A system of rationing by the government was in place, which meant justifying your need for everything from milk to nylon to gasoline. Mom recounts to us how all the daughters in the family (seven—and one with her baby girl) eventually moved back home to be with their parents, and stayed until their men returned. Many worked in armories, aviation plants, and the like for long hours every day for very little pay. Difficult times, indeed.

But with the gift of a long life comes a larger perspective. With all the worry, with all the financial hardship, with all the difficulties of day-to-day living, Mom insists that she often considers that time period to hold the most precious and fun memories of her life.

With that lovely perspective, my family has launched itself right back to that era. After seeing our hard working son and his equally hard working wife struggle in this period of “economic downturn” to surmount medical bills, establish a new business, and care for their two beautiful children, my husband and I began to think about combining households. After much discussion and careful consideration, we offered the invitation to move in. After a period of much discussion and equally careful consideration, they accepted.

The move is taking place this weekend. My husband and I look forward to this grand adventure, this ‘circling the wagons’ for our own little group of pioneers. When I’ve mentioned our plan to friends and family, I’ve been surprised to find that not one has criticized it. On the contrary, I’ve heard several people express envy at the plan, and others who expressed their own secret desire to do the same! I think we will hear of many more families combining resources and residences in the near future. Just as our freedom loving individualistic ancestors experienced, I know we will have days when we’ll chafe at the close quarters, but I also know that this move will benefit all of us. Most importantly, I anticipate with sweet desire the many happy memories that will override any irritations.

We are living in tough times. Despite the best efforts of many people at all levels of government, many of us are struggling to stay afloat. Maybe this era is just another reminder of how connected we all really are. Maybe it serves to illustrate how important it is to work together to progress through the tough times. Whatever it is, it is definitely a blast from the past! As a friend of mine is fond of saying, “Onward and upward!”

And for those who have been our guests for visits through the years, rest assured that Chez Lucas will still make room for you!

Stand up and dance with me on this one:

Hope to Heal.....

by Nancy Kotsifakis
I was inspired by Linda's Promise post to share a bit of my journey and also the stereo whispers are getting louder from Dubby and Jo. This is such an encouraging group of writers that we meet in a message thread (or two...) and some of our exchanges actually make it out to the open air of this blog.

Hope

Healing is always around when you know someone cares....even distant 'someones'. I remember my mom waiting with all of my family for my dad (on his 3rd heart bypass operation). He had gone in weak, and we were so afraid for him...we held hands in a circle in the waiting room and just said silent prayers to ourselves - nothing vocal. We were so 'internalized' - then, a lady walked alone into the room. I was the only one that noticed her as she looked straight at the back wall and headed for an isolated spot - EXTREMELY upset, sobbing and crying as quietly as a heaving kind of sob can be. I was stunned between feeling lucky that I had my family with me, yet feeling so much for this lady all by herself - she was probably in her 50's. I elbowed my mom, and I swear the instant my mom saw her she simultaneously stood straight up and hurriedly walked to catch up with her. I was still - as if on Phaser Stun mode, and a thought crept in - 'what is my mom going to SAY to this lady?'. I saw them speak for a bit, then my mom returned with a gentle smile. She had merely given this lady hope....that is all. Hope...after hearing that the ladies husband was in a serious operation my mom had merely said, 'well, he hasn't died yet has he?' the relief in that ladies whole essence started to unfold...she could cope with the help of hope. It was a simple, quick conversation that healed....someone cared...someone gave hope....we each have in us that gift we can give each other.

Faith forever...

I did NOTHING to earn it, did not even seek it and spent most of my childhood running away from anything that couldn't be proven in front of my eyes today - visible at this moment. I grew up in a family that went to church every Sunday - and I noticed that I could skip much of this by joining the choir. I started out memorizing all of the things I needed to progress in church, such as the books of the bible, and would pray for things I felt other people wanted - a better car, a better job, etc. However, I never felt the connection between the rituals and the meaning. For instance I knew that the wafer of bread and wine were representations of the bible events - but ritual was just that - a thing to do every year. I can't say that I even tried to place a meaning on them - and I will spare you all the arguments I used that I thought were logical.
Fast forward to about 6 or 7 years ago - I found a coworker, Teresa to car pool with on the 55 minute drive to work. The very first thing she said when she got in the car was, 'I HAVE to listen to my favorite reverend!'. I gulped thinking...I am NOT going to like this (imagining Garner Ted and rantings), but I can do this... her program is in the morning, and I said 'I HAVE to listen to Dr. Laura in the afternoon!' and we struck a deal. Now, the ride to work was very early - we had to be at work by 6am. She turned the radio on Walk In the Word, and I started to shrink in my seat as I heard the compassion of James MacDonald's booming voice....I was almost embarrassed for him at first....but then I listened. He started making sense...he brought in background period information, he never talked DOWN to people and he constantly gave reference verses...faster than I could keep up while driving - believe me I would check them out. I found myself understanding....UNDERSTANDING. Teresa told me to start in the New Testament - that basically the Old Testament was history (later she told me that reading the Old Testament really gave her a feel for God's heart). The New Testament is the one that gives us Jesus, and I knew that but hadn't grasped the meaning of the difference. I had previously gotten lost in the begat, begat, begat part of the Old Testament without really understanding that it was leading up to the lineage of Jesus.
Between the 'Rev in the Morning' and Dr. Laura we struck up a wonderful friendship and I went out to buy my first bible. I was overwhelmed by the rows and rows of options, but remembered that the NIV was one of a handful that James MacDonald mentioned. I chose a study bible version of the NIV because half of each page is chock-full of archeological findings, history notes, and when the verse is not well understood the study bible version gives you the top 3 or so interpretations adding the background to each. I would like to say that I have read everything in the bible - but no - I listened to people I trusted, and then looked up the passages and interpretations in my study bible. Why is it when God writes a book (as MacDonald uses for a title), and I can't seem to find the time in my little life to READ it??! It's only been around - how many thousands of years, and pretty much unchanged (7 words mostly in spelling have changed in that entire time from the book of Isiah - they checked today's version with the Dead Sea scroll version).

It didn't come instantly, but I sure felt the difference between one day questioning (as we are encouraged to do) and eventually - I had to be honest with myself - knowing that I had the gift of faith in Jesus and the bible. Conviction is probably a better word than 'had'...it is as if I always knew this, like knowing what the color green looks like. I would like to say that I have since learned not to sin - only now I am aware of how easy it is to sin - such as the hurt careless words can cause, and I am also aware that God knows we are incapable of being sinless....'no not one'. That is why we need Jesus to truck us over to the other side....we are all in one boat headed for the other shore, dancing and enjoying life - making good and bad choices, hurting and healing each other - but this boat is going to dock on the other side and our bodies will die no matter what we do.

Listen - he will probably embarrass you too at first, but if you make it to the end tell me if it touched you in a positive way.
Here is a Walk In the Word Podcast.