I thoroughly enjoyed this podcast episode:
Vox’s Unexplainable: Do we live inside an enormous black hole?
An interesting question and thought experiment!
Let Evening Come by Jane Kenyon
Let the light of late afternoon
shine through chinks in the barn, moving
up the bales as the sun moves down.
Let the cricket take up chafing
as a woman takes up her needles
and her yarn. Let evening come.
Let dew collect on the hoe abandoned
in long grass. Let the stars appear
and the moon disclose her silver horn.
Let the fox go back to its sandy den.
Let the wind die down. Let the shed
go black inside. Let evening come.
To the bottle in the ditch, to the scoop
in the oats, to air in the lung
let evening come.
Let it come, as it will, and don’t
be afraid. God does not leave us
comfortless, so let evening come.
A friend of mine is in a band, and I had the pleasure to attend a house concert that he and his bandmates put on for their friends. They don’t play gigs or concerts so often, but they’ve been playing together once a week for many years. Basically, they do it just for their own enjoyment.
But they could probably perform for gigs and concerts if they wanted to do that. They were great.
They are largely a cover band, and they play many styles of music from a variety of decades. But they did perform an original song, too, written by my friend. This song seemed to sum up what they were doing, in fact. It was about creating just to create, just for the pure enjoyment of it.
“I did it just to do it, and now it’s done,” the lyrics said.
And it made me think about the power of doing things just to take pleasure in them, rather than having a particular result in mind.
You know what I’m going to start doing in earnest today?
Writing a book.
— Renee Roederer
If you’ve read the stories, it’s easy to envision lepers, sex workers, tax collectors, and Samaritans sitting at table with Jesus. He lifted up every one of them and included them in his community.
The Opening Ceremonies of the Olympics in Paris created an artistic tableau of Bacchus and additional Greek gods, portrayed by trans people and people in drag. Many assumed this was a representation of the Last Supper, and they expressed all kinds of outrage. How can these people play the roles at the table? some seemed to ask, and, Why are they mocking us?
If you’ve read the stories, it’s easy to envision trans people, those who are unemployed, Drag Queens, and Palestinians sitting at table with Jesus. Would he not lift up every one of them and include them in his community?
Where is the outrage for how members of these communities are treated?
— Renee Roederer
Over the weekend, I had an occasion to have an exhibitor table for the Epilepsy Foundation of Michigan, and our table was positioned next to a man representing an organization that promotes and celebrates organ donation. As I got to know him, he shared a few powerful stories with me.
He is the recipient of a heart transplant, and he met his wife, who is also an organ recipient, through their shared community. He told me that his wife had a chance to meet the family of her donor, and while there is certainly grief in the loss of a father and husband, there is also a strong bond and relationship between this family and his wife, who received one of this man’s organs. And this really moved me:
She was able to walk the daughter of this donor down the aisle at her wedding.
What an incredibly powerful connection, and in the midst of deep loss, there was a living connection in relationship. The life of this organ recipient was present at a wedding to share love with a beloved daughter.
And this has me thinking about how life continues to find us sometimes, even if we’ve endured loss or great change. There is no silver lining in this, of course. But there is an accompanied goodness. Memories emerge and fill us. Relationships find us anew. Possibilities continue to unfold.
And this is always a surprise. It never negates the loss. Never. But it accompanies it. It walks us down the aisle, so to speak. And when these moments emerge, there is gratitude.
— Renee Roederer
From time to time, we may need a reminder like this. As this image shares,
Your feelings with fluctuate
Your well being will fluctuate
Your performance will fluctuate
Your worth will not
This is true. There is nothing that any external forces, internal beliefs, relational conflicts, complex emotions, personal expectations, or failures can do — nothing — to diminish the worth of ourselves or our fellow human beings. So if that’s true, how will we view ourselves today? And how will we view those around us?
— Renee Roederer
Making a Fist by Naomi Shihab
For the first time, on the road north of Tampico,
I felt the life sliding out of me,
a drum in the desert, harder and harder to hear.
I was seven, I lay in the car
watching palm trees swirl a sickening pattern past the glass.
My stomach was a melon split wide inside my skin.
“How do you know if you are going to die?”
I begged my mother.
We had been traveling for days.
With strange confidence she answered,
“When you can no longer make a fist.”
Years later I smile to think of that journey,
the borders we must cross separately,
stamped with our unanswerable woes.
I who did not die, who am still living,
still lying in the backseat behind all my questions,
clenching and opening one small hand
I was interviewing an educational leader about ways to advocate for children in the classroom. While chatting about best practices for communication with teachers and administrators, she said,
“I always tell people, ‘Clear is kind. Unclear is unkind.'”
I immediately thought, “Oh, I’m keeping that!” Only a few days after that interview, I’ve already had two different occasions to share that phrase and give her credit.
Has someone said something helpful that you’ve brought into your vocabulary?
— Renee Roederer
Smuggling Grace 