Smuggling Grace

In my role with the Epilepsy Foundation of Michigan, I help facilitate five support groups. Last year, in one of them, a group member chose a song for every other group member. She selected a song with meaning that seems to convey who each person is and/or what they can count on from each other. It was so touching..

“This is your song,” she would say.

And for many months, people have circled back and made reference to their songs.

This morning, I turned my Spotify on shuffle, and there was mine.

“This is your song,” I heard her say. I smiled big.

–Renee Roederer

I was standing near the bus stop in the morning shade under a tree. I saw someone approaching with a white box. “She has donuts,” I thought. “A donut sounds so good.”

She sat on the bench, as I continued to stand under the tree. She opened the box, and curious, I looked over to see if they were, indeed, donuts — though I was careful not to stare. I was behind her, so she never saw me looking anyway.

But that’s when she turned to me and asked, “Would you like a donut?” With no way to know my curiosity, she was simply generous and neighborly. I smiled big.

“That’s so nice! How about half of one?”

“Which one would you like?”

“Ooh, how about this one!”

I savored it.

I introduced myself, and she told me her name too. She also shared that she works for the city. She told me a bit about her family as well. I know that none of our conversation solved gun violence, or climate disaster, or what’s happening in Ukraine. This person in city government didn’t suddenly solve what happens so regularly in Washington.

But this neighborliness matters too. It brightened my day. It led to connection. It bolstered us socially and physically — friendship and sugar in the hot sun.

Yes, this neighborliness matters too.

–Renee Roederer

— If you were to shake off the stressors for a bit and just be playful, what would you do?

— How can you make some space for that today?

–Renee Roederer

— As you think over the last month or so, what moment, thought, feeling, activity, memory, or possibility gave you the greatest sense of wonder?

— How can you bring that to mind and heart again, feeling gratitude for it once more?

–Renee Roederer

— Who and what makes you feel at home?

— How can you rest in the presence of these?

If some people or some key comforts are not able to be accessed physically or immediately, it can still be helpful to imagine them. We can bring home to us.

–Renee Roederer

— Who loves you?

One of my friends has a nightly ritual with both of her daughters. They are six and four, both completely precious. Every night, after reading to them, my friend says these final words before they go to sleep:

“Who loves you?”

Then both girls go through this litany of naming who loves them — parents, grandparents, teachers, and friends. Sometimes the stuffed animals get named too.

I wonder who might be in your list.

— How can you build a rhythm to remind yourself intentionally of this love?

–Renee Roederer

— As you think over the last month or so, what moment, thought, feeling, activity, memory, or possibility gave you the most joy?

— How can you prioritize more of that?

–Renee Roederer

“Ancient Teeth.” I’m definitely aware that that’s an odd title for a blog post.

But I’m also laughing about it this morning.

These days, I’m doing something I haven’t done in many years: I’m reading the Bible from cover to cover. As I’ve done so, I’ve encountered passages that have moved me deeply, and I’ve found some that puzzle me too. But I also need to share this: The Bible is also funny. I have found some snarky, one-liners from characters that have made me guffaw aloud. Or at times, the narrator of one of the books will make an aside about a situation, and that also makes me chuckle. I love the humor.

There’s a section that wasn’t intended to be funny, but it’s made me giggle too. When I got to the Song of Solomon, I encountered King Solomon and his great love passing on an array of compliments that sound so strange to us millennia later.

“Your hair is like a flock of goats!”

“Your brow is like a slice of pomegranate!”

And there’s this one. It actually shows up several times throughout the poetic book:

“Your teeth are like a flock of newly shorn sheep coming up from washing, each one having a twin and not one missing.”

Gurrrl, you look so good! You have all your teeth!

This complement shows up multiple times. Not one of your teeth is missing!

But then, I started thinking about it, and this was a thought I have never had in my life: Without dentists or even toothbrushes, ancient people were likely missing teeth. Throughout most of human history, people were frequently missing teeth. I’ve never thought of this before.

So I guess it is high praise after all:

Not one of your teeth is missing! Not a single one of your newly shorn sheep teeth! You look gooooood!

–Renee Roederer

When I visited some chosen family members this winter, one of them blurted out that I should feel energized because, “after all, don’t you drink like five cups of coffee a day?” I laughed and said that while staying with them, I had never had more than two. He came to his five-cups-per-day belief because I reheat my coffee in the microwave a lot. I guess I’m a slow coffee drinker.

When I was 7 and 8 years old, I would sometimes spend summer days with my Papaw Jim. He would take me to McDonalds, and I would order a Happy Meal while he would order a coffee. Sure enough, I would finish my meal way before he was finished with his coffee, and I would feel so bored.

“I’ve got just a little left,” he would say, with the cup half full.

“Just a little left.”

“Just a little left.”

This was such a marker of my summer. There was hardly ever just a little left.

I guess the apple doesn’t fall far from the tree.

–Renee Roederer

Photos of flowers, trees, and plants by Renee Roederer.