Feast of Epiphany

A Scene from The Nativity Story

The festivities of the Christmas season are winding down.  Chayo and Roberto returned to school today.   

As I drove Chayo down to the village in the morning darkness to catch the bus we were captivated by a bright star over the ocean.  Maybe it was the morning star. 

I thought of yesterday’s celebration of the magi and how they ventured out on an epic journey because of an extraordinary congruence of planets –  a pretty crazy idea. 

I watch for the star as I weave under the trees and cross the river into the village.  What star am I following?  What kind of crazy hope is my goal? 

Then I have an epiphany, and that is what the feast of the magi is called, Epiphany!  It means an appearance or manifestation.   What crazy kind of synchronization is this?

My epiphany is that I am on a journey and Christ, who is also called the Morning Star, is my Star; and the camel I’m riding is a radical, looney faith that is supposed to traverse this desert journey through a world gone mad.

I heard a song on the radio the other day and the refrain, “a heart full of hope”, resonated in me.  I thought, Hey, it feels good to have gotten this old and to still feel this way. 

It turns out that the lyrics are “a heart full of holes".  That could have been my song too but my heart is pretty well patched.

As I opened the gate to return to the house I had another epiphany. It came on slow like the dawn's light coming over the mountain.  It feels right to have Chayo in our lives.  It’s crazy too.  We had different ideas for slow-living but I find myself softened to what is happening, open to something-someone we hadn’t even thought to ask for.   

The image of following a star is how I enter the New Year. We all have eyes on the horizon of the morning sky to see what light rises to illuminate the way ahead. I am feeling tremendously grateful for a sense of joy and anticipation over what is coming this year.

May a star rise above you to guide you through this year too.  May you have a feast of epiphanies, new ways of seeing the things that are already true and on their way to you. 

This has been our Advent...

Chayo, after baptism yesterday

Beuatiful Roberto and friend of the family, Katya

The last post was the beginning of the Advent season.  The recent weeks since then have been full and rich.  It has been a time of preparation and also of waiting and that is what is meant by Advent. 

Specifically, we have been preparing for Chayo and Roberto's baptism.  This is a process that began back in February and propelled us into a new career, that of being spiritual parents.  Wally and I were earnest in assuming this for Leah, our 2 year old goddaughter, but then there were her older brother and sister who were floundering in the aftermath of their mother's death.  The answer at the time seemed to be the church, the center of life in their village.  The church could become the family and structure that they were lacking.  That's where we began this journey.  Chayo and Robert wanted to be baptized but they had not been to catechism which begins when children are 6.  They were too old to join the classes but the priest said that if they were to be tutored and tested monthly, that if they came to mass weekly, that he would baptize them.  So I said I would do it.  Had I given it a lot of consideration I would have had plenty of reasons to find someone better suited.  I hate to drive, I hate to leave my home, I don't speak Spanish well enough for exegesis and I already have a full-time occupation on the farm, but everything in me said "YES".  So we began meeting each week for study and again for mass and at the end of each month we met with the priest.  In these months of preparation we have been knit together.  We have grown famil-y-ar.  We are family now.

Earlier this week in preparation for their baptism they made their confession.  As I sat in the back of the church looking at the backs of their heads, the way they leaned forward to listen and speak to the priest, how beauty rested gently on them, I saw them through their mother's eyes.   I felt the fullness of hope and expectation.   I felt peace.

The baptism was a concentrated gathering:  the priest, Chayo, Roberto, their father and grandfather and us, the god-parents.   It was a perfect coming together that tied the yarn off of what had become accomplished. It was good.

Each week in Advent a candle is lit to represent an aspect of preparation for the coming of the Messiah.  Last Sunday the pink candle of joy was lit.  Before that the candles of hope and love, and this Sunday, the final week, peace.  As a whole, these candles represent the coming of light into the world. 

This has been our Advent experience.

Advent - a meditation on hope

The Annunciation by Henry O. Tanner

This painting moves me.  I have a book of paintings of the Annunciation.  I am drawn to the renderings of something so powerful and mysterious as an encounter with a call to purpose.  There is no inkling of the cost.  It is the beginning of great and terrible expectations, a swelling of spirit.  I particularly love this painting because it shows Mary of Nazareth as a teenager, just awakened from sleep and on the brink of saying "yes" to God.  How far and deep that "yes" would resonate began in one awe-full moment. 

How can anyone know what is ahead.  This is how I am feeling these days.  I am waking up to a compressed longing  for things to be better in the world and in particular for a few loved ones.  Perhaps the answer is in timing, like pregnancy.  Things are ready when there is ripening.  So much has to happen and be coordinated and that is where the waiting and expectation come into play.  First there has to be hope and then there is preparation with the expectation that it will come to pass.  

I am having a baby shower for something birthing in my soul...I don't know what the baby is yet, but I feel this stirring anticipation.  I want to be ready, I want it to be good so there's preparation: cleaning, beautifying, refining, joy to cultivate into booties for my hope when it comes.

Yesterday I heard of a woman giving birth 4 weeks early.  The baby was taken by caesarean because of fetal distress.  The mother hadn't been eating and she and the baby were dehydrated.  The baby was long but very low in weight and having to start its fragile life in an incubator.

Is this what happens when we don't care for our hope, does it slow the time of ripening, could it shrivel to death?  Doesn't hope, like a fetus, depend on daily nurturing?

And this makes me wonder:    is this what is lacking and why the world is not getting better?   s the second Advent on hold for more hope-ers so that the world's hope can ripen? 

Wait, hope and see. 

Thanksgiving

Another Thanksgiving - how comforting to make another cycle around another year and we are still here, still thankful.  I hope this is how you are feeling too.  It is the simple daily blessings that nurture us and keep our hearts topped off with gratitude.  God's ways are so perfect:  with the overflow of thanks we become givers ourselves and grace overflows onto others making more thanksgiving.  I imagine that this is what is meant by Glory, that God's goodness is perpetual.

This has been a good year with the farm growing in ways that we can see and enjoy.  The trees are maturing and making flowers and fruit.  Wally made an addition to our guest house and made it so much nicer.  We made changes to our house too, making our living room into an art studio for me and a bedroom for our god daughter, Chayo - yes, our family has grown too.  A new source of water coming from the mountains and crossing our land has been another great blessing.  In fact, this has been a year of expansion.  We are feeling a kind of happy anticipation but we don't know what could be ahead, only that now is full and we are thankful.

New art studio

Studio and Chayo's room - a shared space

Wally has become the go-to-guy for everything that doesn't work in the gringo community.  That keeps him on a learning curve with man's high- tech toys.  If he isn't familiar with it he figures it out by studying it on the internet and now he often knows more than the experts because his experience is much broader and hands-on.  I am exceedingly proud of him because I see him behind the scenes teaching himself how to repair and rebuild things better.  From computers and satellite antennas to converting his fuel-injected Porsche to a basic carburetor - he always sees how things could be better.  But then he is a special genius.

My week has a more predictable routine.  I pick up Chayo for the weekend on Friday.  Saturday we prepare for selling at the farmer's market which is every Sunday morning and attend church.  I am teaching Chayo about finances through a hair bow business.  She works long hours making beautiful bows while I bake and she sells them along side my cakes at the farmer's market.   On Monday I take her to the school bus and then later in the afternoon I teach catechism to 10 lively kids between the ages of 12 and 14. 

December will be a busy month.  Christmas is celebrated in a big way throughout Advent and also Chayo and her brother,Robert will be baptized on the 19th.  There are extra church and school activities too and our tradition of gifts for the children on our road. 

 

Today we had a new young veterinarian come from San Blas to treat all 10 dogs and surgically care for a large hematoma on the ear of Sparky.  It is not the first time or the last that my dining table has doubled for surgery.  Dr. Marcos volunteered as a surgeon for a couple of our monthly clinics so I had assisted him before.  It would be maddening to take 10 dogs for a visit to a vet.  This is a great new development and I feel the prospects of a lasting friendship growing.

And so we are looking to a new year with hope and expectation.  Which is what we wish for you.  Savor this season.   I end with a poem:

  

Thanksgiving

 
I have been trying to read
the script cut in these hills—
a language carved in the shimmer of stubble
and the solid lines of soil, spoken
in the thud of apples falling
and the rasp of corn stalks finally bare.

The pheasants shout it with a rusty creak
as they gather in the fallen grain,
the blackbirds sing it over their shoulders in parting,
and gold leaf illuminates the manuscript
where it is written in the trees.

Transcribed onto my human tongue
I believe it might sound like a lullaby,
or the simplest grace at table.
across the gathering stillness
simply this: “For all that we have received,
dear God, make us truly grateful.”. 

---Lynn Ungar,  Bread and Other Miracles
 

Joining the saints...

I have been experiencing life very intensely lately.  It is a combination of the loss of close companions and relatives in juxtaposition with the lively, lovable, presence of Chayo, our 13 year old goddaughter and Leah, her 2 year old sister.  I am simultaneously letting go and embracing something new.  The letting go is not the easy part.  I don't want to rush forward.  I want to take time, contemplate and sit and savor what these precious ones gave to me and I want to find new ways to live with them so that they live on in my life, inspiring me to live beauti-fully and in that way be a living memorial.  Henri J. M. Nouwen wrote in Bread for the Journey:

"As we grow older we have more and more people to remember, people who have died before us. It is very important to remember those who have loved us and those we have loved. Remembering them means letting their spirits inspire us in our daily lives. They can become part of our spiritual communities and gently help us as we make decisions on our journeys. Parents, spouses, children, and friends can become true spiritual companions after they have died. Sometimes they can become even more intimate to us after death than when they were with us in life. Remembering the dead is choosing their ongoing companionship."
 
This week we celebrated the Day of the Dead, or All Saints Day, an important solemnity in the Catholic church and in the culture of Mexico.  It was a good opportunity to reach out to Chayo in regard to the death of her mother.  A couple weeks earlier I had made a memorial in our home to honor my uncle Toshi who passed on October 20th. So the week before November 2, I added photos of Chayo's mother's along with photos of my father, my beloved old dogs, and my friend Jeanne.  I had gathered a few other meaningful things to add to the altar.  I wanted to show Chayo how we can use symbols for what is intangible as ways of honoring and staying present to the real.  It is also satisfying and comforting to express ourselves with these meaningful tablescapes.  In my house, they change and move like seasons, they speak life and lessons to me.

My family in Japan is closing the residence of my grandmother and this is another "letting go".  It is an exercise similar to painting from memory.  I train my eyes to take in as much information as I can hold and then commit it to a multi sensational impression in my cells - light, color, shape, composition, mood, feeling, taste, sound.  This is something that moth and mold cannot destroy and can always be revisited to savor over and over again...much better than a photo. 


This is what I hope to pass on to Chayo:  the awareness that we are shaped by others -  good and bad.  We know the bad is there, but we can be deliberate in concentrating the good and develop, celebrate and honor that.  

We are a complex brew of tea.  We are deepened and enriched as we steep in the qualities and characteristics of the ones who loved us.  We are tea to be savored, giving back in our way what others have added to our lives.  When we do we become fully ourselves.  We move into our own sainthood.

I like how Christine Valters Paintner expresses it:   "To become a Saint doesn't mean to be some contrived image of holiness, practicing your faith in ways that imitate others, but to find your own unique expression in the world. You are a revelation of the sacred, and there is only one revelation just like you."

Word for the day: BUBULUBU

Chayo and Leah, our god-daughters

Chayo turned 13 this week.  She is one of our god-daughters.  We had a family celebration at her Aunt Rosa's with roasted turkey, fried rice and a giant Bubulubu birthday cake (it's more fun to say "bubulubu" than to read it).  In Mexico, a Bubulubu is kind of junk-food cake like a Twinkie but it has either strawberries or pineapples covered in chocolate. 

All week, Chayo has been anticipating her birthday.  During mass, prior to her party, she was so antsy, her eyes shining and twinkling, her patience strained.  A couple of times she said "Amen" a little too loud before a prayer was over.  I took it all in, this shimmering, happy anticipation.  It was infectious.

Children have this ability to experience joy in anticipation.  As adults we often forget how to do that, but if you can remember waiting for Christmas or a birthday and claim that back with a child's joy this makes the fulfillment of wishes all the better. Let us anticipate with excitement all things lying ahead of us!

Chayo and cousin, Izak

A few thoughts about Penny...

We lost Penny on Friday to old age.  She was my dog from Virginia.  Her passing was as gentle and quiet as she was in life.  Her friendship has been a constant for the past 12 years.  I savor what she has taught me.

When I first rescued Penny, she was a pup with a broken leg.  I was impressed at how stoic she was.  The boy who owned her had no means to pay for her surgery or give her the care for her recovery, so I told him that I would pay if he would let me have her. 

God gives us what we need even when we are oblivious to what that is.  Those were dark and difficult days for me, I moved through life like a robot,  but after Penny's surgery I cared for her as a good and responsible nurse.  One night after carrying her outside to do her business, I happened to notice that she sniffed the air with pleasure.  So, I sniffed the air to check it out.  It was cool and crisp and green-smelling of life.  She looked around, so I looked around and because it was a big sky, I looked up.  The stars were bright and twinkled.  Penny caused me to look up and out of myself...It was an awakening. I began to see the world through the eyes of a pent-up puppy anxious for mending, and over the next 3 months Penny shared her ways with me and we both got better.

One night, during her recuperation we lay in the hammock together bundled in a sleeping bag to watch a meteorite shower.

Penny had a special bed in my bedroom where I hung a little painting at her eye level to make her space like mine - art-full.

Penny and I were two black-haired, brown-eyed, Eastern Shore girls and we thought each other beautiful.

I entered her in a costume show for dogs as a benefit for cancer.  She was a pit bull/chow mix and her costume:  a pink faerie dress with gossamer wings that flapped!  I just knew she would win - how adorable is a pit bull faerie pup!  For me to enroll in a doggy pageant was a small feat of courage, but she inspired me to a new boldness.  She lost to a boy scout terrier, but in this case, we were winners too.

Time and time again, God used Penny to get a message through to me.

I've come to understand that choosing to care for her was an exercise in caring for myself and more than that, it puts one in the habit of not turning away from what is wrong in the world. 

Penny was my first dog-love.  She was a gift every day of her life. Twelve years times 7 is a long life of friendship in dog years.  I am embracing what I've learned from her:  Love and live. It helps make things better for yourself and for the world.   And you can practice on a dog.