Author: gracesmuggler

Image Description: A large number of geese take off in flight over a marshy field.

That moment when you awaken to the sound of geese flying over, and you think peacefully, ah, yes, Mary Oliver… That’s right… You don’t have to be good…

Then three minutes later, you hear giggidy jillion more fly over, and it sounds like an utter symphony of clown horns.

And you lose it with laughter.

Good morning, everyone.
YOU DON’T HAVE TO BE GOOD 🤣

–Renee Roederer

I am referencing Mary Oliver’s poem, “Wild Geese.” It’s a great one.

A post about receiving.

This is Pushy.

Pushy is my lovely little handpush lawnmower pictured above. I’ve been using Pushy in the late fall and then again in the early spring. I really enjoy mowing the lawn with Pushy. But… summer is upon us, and… Pushy is no longer getting the job done.

I have a gas mower too (not named) but it’s not working because the pull cord gets stuck. It’s not so easy to take it to get it fixed right now, so after struggling with Pushy this morning, I wrote a social media post asking people for recommendations of who I might pay to mow the lawn with their own equipment.

But nope. At least not this time. My friends called me and said, “We’re gonna do it tonight.”

They did, and the yard looks amazing.

Receiving.

Then… a few hours after posting about Pushy, my doorbell rang. I’m very close to my former students from my years in Texas. Three of them have been each other’s best friends for more than a decade, and the four of us always have a group text going. They recently gave me a gift certificate for food delivery from this incredible meal prep place in Ann Arbor. They just wanted to show me kindness. When that doorbell rang, there were all my meals for a week. What a gift!

Receiving.

Then… a few hours later, a very beloved, recent graduate from the University of Michigan came over because she personally baked me a loaf of sourdough bread. It’s so soft and delicious, and it meant a lot to me. It’s fluffy and tasty!

Receiving.

Then… a few hours later, I was starting a work call. Thankfully, I had my phone on mute while the group was talking because my doorbell rang. Who could that be? I wondered. There was an Amazon Prime delivery on my doorstep. I knew I didn’t order it. What’s in that package? It was UNICORN SLIPPERS. The note said, “Thought you needed these to properly quarantine. From Guess Who.”

Receiving.

That is a day full of receiving. Big receiving. Absurdly abundant receiving.

And it’s not like this every single day. I have lots of days feeling more alone or discouraged than I want to feel. But goodness, this is all lovely.

And it’s a reminder that we all have big and small thoughtful things to provide for each other. We can offer our resources and time (like bringing over a mower), or we can send a text to someone who keeps popping into our mind. We can help people know we’re thinking of them and caring for them.

I spent four hours on the phone today, adding support to individuals and groups. I know everyone doesn’t have that energy for this. I do. I can provide that and allow people to receive from it.

And I keep receiving. Like dang, so much.

–Renee Roederer

Now that it’s warmer, this Michigander so thoroughly enjoys keeping her windows open all day. It’s lovely to work outside or at my table in the sunroom because I can watch nature too. As I type this, a squirrel is pulling up grass in the yard, assembling it into a ball, and carrying it in her mouth up to the trees to make a nest.

And yesterday, this very little, fuzzy worm traversed on my MacBook Air for a while:

I hope there are moments when we can get outside, open a window, or just thoroughly enjoy a sunbeam shining into our quarantined living spaces.

Terry Tempest Williams, author and conservationist writes, “To be whole. To be complete. Wildness reminds us what it means to be human, what we are connected to rather than what we are separate from.”

Maybe we need that especially right now.

–Renee Roederer

 

Image Description: The top says, “What we think healing will look like,” and the bottom has a pie graph with various responses to “What healing actually looks like.” This image is by @heidipriebe. Text in full below.

Healing is… not always easy. But it’s deeper and fuller than coasting or living in a conflicted way. Maybe there are rifts we need mend in our relationships. Maybe we need to stand up for ourselves. Maybe we need to be kinder to ourselves. Maybe we need to apologize.

Healing often requires risk and vulnerability.

So I like this image from @heidipriebe.

The top says,

“What we think healing looks like”

There’s a solid, light blue circle filled in full with the response,

— Meditating peacefully

Then below, there’s a pie graph with a deeper and fuller list.

“What healing actually looks like”

— Unpacking Trauma
— Having Difficult Conversations
— Taking Radical Responsibility for Your Actions
— Implementing Healthy Routines
— Setting & Enforcing Boundaries

What does this evoke in each of us?

Yesterday, during a Zoom worship service, someone mentioned one of Jesus’ teachings from the Sermon on the Mount that I haven’t thought about in a while — the portion about the speck in your brother’s eye and the log in your own? I think that probably landed in a really humorous way in its original context because it’s so preposterous. I once heard a translation (can’t find it now, sadly!) that said, “How can you get the sawdust out of your brother’s eye when you have a telephone pole in your own? First take the telephone pole out of your own eye, and then you will see clearly to take the sawdust out of your brother’s eye.”

It made me laugh. I just imagine someone knocking others over with their telephone pole while they try to analyze and pick at others. Ouch, but also very cartoon-y. It’s a silly image about a very true experience.

We all have our work to do. Let’s choose the deeper healing.

–Renee Roederer

 

–

Here are some lovely images from my neighborhood walk this weekend — flowers, mushrooms, and a fairy door! Fun discoveries.

–Renee Roederer

Image Description: The Pulpit Fiction Podcast logo in red and yellow lettering. There is a microphone, a cross, and a rainbow surrounding the title of the podcast.

This week, I was featured as part of the Voice in the Wilderness segment for the Pulpit Fiction Podcast. That segment starts at 6:20. Feel free to check it out if you’d like!

 

 

Image Description: A gray dumbo octopus.

I mean, look how cute they are. And most of them are so smalllll. And look at their little, silly ears.

 

It’s pretty rare for a Facebook post to have more shares than likes, but that’s what the stats currently tell me about a post I made. There were 63 likes, but there are 113 shares.

I follow the MisterRogersQuotes handle on Twitter, so my screens receive daily quotes from Fred Rogers. I’m glad for that. Occasionally, I’ll screenshot one on my phone and then share it to Facebook also. That’s what I did last week.

He says,

“Some days, doing ‘the best we can’ may still fall short of what we would like to be able to do, but life isn’t perfect — on any front — and doing what we can with what we have is the most we should expect of ourselves or anyone else.”

In an screenshotted image, this simple but very helpful quote spread fast on Facebook. And I realized, people are really longing for this kind of grace, hoping to stand in the presence of people who convey, “‘the best you can do’ is truly enough.” And, of course, we need to hear that we’re worth loving and are ourselves ‘enough’ even when ‘the best we can do’ falls short as well. This is true when circumstances inhibit us or when we fail. Our worth and acceptance need not be conditioned on ‘the best we can do.’ Worth and acceptance can be unconditional. This is grace.

It seems that a large and quick number of shares reveal that we need to hear this message again.

So I wonder, which ongoing stories in our lives need this posture from us?

–Renee Roederer

Image Description: An open magazine, a laptop, and a smart phone on a wooden table.

I know there are deeper discoveries we might have have during this time. Eureka moments about life or epiphanies about our inner workings as people. But I’ll just say…

Even though I deeply miss human contact — I really do — I’ve learned that I really enjoy working from home.

I’m in an ideal work rhythm now, and I find myself getting into flow. This is good.

-I’m also fortunate to still be working.
-I’m also fortunate to work for organizations that are supportive of staying put and working remotely.

Not everyone has those options before them.

I don’t take it for granted.

I’m just learning that I like it very much.

–Renee Roederer

Image Description: A white question mark, written in chalk, on a blackboard.

These days, I find myself thinking about this often:

Concern and worry are not quite the same. They’re different experiences, I think.

When we’re concerned about something, we take it seriously. And this feels proactive: We think ahead. We consider consequences. We galvanize our strength, our inner resources, and our community resources.

But…

When we’re worried about something, we just spin around our own anxiety. It can feel like a whirlwind.

It’s not easy, and sometimes, not possible to just snap our fingers and exit worry. Anxiety is very physical, and when it takes hold, we’re really in it. This deserves compassion and never shame or criticism.

I wonder, if we can practice moving our worry energy into concern energy, might we inhabit a different stance? Then we can be in a different relationship with what we face or fear.

–Renee Roederer