In a candelabrum are resplendent gleams

... have led us to the point

of entering into ourselves,

that is, into our minds in which the divine image shines.

Now in the third place, as we enter into ourselves,

as if leaving the vestibule and coming into the sanctum, that is, the outer part of the tabernacle,

we should strive to see God through a mirror.

In this mirror the light of truth is shining before our minds

as in a candelabrum,

for in it gleams the resplendent image

of the most blessed Trinity.

St. Bonaventure

So we went into our ourselves and shared

memories of times with friends

and imaginined how hard it is for others,

who have witnessed horror to overcome their memories.

And that was Monday with three friends at Holy Trinity.

I throw something out and catch gleams as

they emerge from the memories of my friends.

23 reasons why I garden...

All Creatures of Our God and King

maybe, just maybe... I was given this time to ponder a Franciscan, many birds, and a friend's death.

sometimes when you rise to sing a hymn at a memorial service, everything comes together...

and as our eyes are filled with the sunlight streaming through stained glass and tears, we sing praises.

It was one of John Touchberry's favorites.

Did you hear us? Were you perched on the bell tower?

of Birds and Bonaventure

Vestiges, Bonaventure says we are surrounded by vestiges. Open your eyes to creation and you will see living signs that God has been there. Contemplate the nature of the creature and you will start your journey to God.

I dig birds, so when I read chapter two of Bonaventure three weeks ago just before I went to church my mind went to...

leaping for joy when I first saw a Pileated Woodpecker... I was in NC with a great bunch of friends, who went to the mountains for spring break.

a flock of Bobolinks that said, "hey look at us, " after not one had shown their face to me since the first spring of birdwatching when I was 13... I was alone at Valley Forge on my 33rd birthday.

a yellow-bellied woodpecker that said. "hey, would you rather enjoy my beauty or have your job cause your head to explode,"... I chose beauty.

The Gold Finches who perch on spires of anise hyssop and say, "thanks, for not having a grass lawn"

and the memories kept coming and coming and coming. And I wanted to share them with my group of friends at Holy Trinity, but we canceled that Monday and we never got to Bonaventure the next Monday, but three days ago... I told some of my stories...

and now in three days I have more

the catbird that made a trip to the garbage cans more interesting.

the friend who I gave a description of a bird as we pulled into her driveway, and 20 seconds later I turned the pages to show her a Rose-Breasted Grossbeak in my bird book.

another friend that said "what" as we stood outside at work then directed his eyes to the words I said, so that he could see a White-breasted Nuthatch on a Silver Maple.

and the robins that attacked a squirrel in the front yard across the street this morning as I walked to my car.

15 years ago I set out to see a hundred birds by the last day of the school year. The day I reached my goal, I got to work for a message to call Mosaic Woman. She told me that my grandmother had died. As I flew home to Pennsylvania, I read that Emily Dickinson once wrote that the dead visit us through birds.

Today I walked through Lansdale with Mosaic Woman, who now after walking through half her life with me, shows me birds. and my eyes are directed to a hawk perched on a church tower above the door where I returned to a journey with God.

change of heart... pancakes and church camps can do that

The organizer of Summerfest at Men-O-Lan queried us about having our craft at the event. For the past few years we have not ventured into outdoor shows. Payout money and then have to worry about the weather seemed to be the main reason I would give for why we did not do them.

Mosaic Woman was checking out the show and she said it was in support of a youth camp run by local Mennonites and that we would get a free pancake breakfast. So here we are with a tent, a list of shows we hope to do this summer, and lots of hope for good weather.

I ate plenty of mom made pancakes as a child, but I never went to church camp until I became an adult. Mensch Mill fills up with youth from local UCC churches every summer, but in October the adults come out to the Walking With God retreats. I have missed a few during the past 13 years, but have made it to most. Over the years I have heard memories from others on retreat about being at Mensch as children. Seeds are planted at these camps. Never can be sure what will happen in the future, but planting the seeds comes first.

So come early for the pancakes, check out the crafts, and support camp Men-O-Lan on May 22nd where I will be selling my new crosses...

HAIR!

It has been 11 years since I said to Mosaic Woman that I would not cut my hair till the end of summer... it has been cut twice since then.

A few months ago I announced on Facebook that I planned to get my haircut and buy new socks over winter break... I guess that sometimes I need to write my plans down....

October, 2008:

Saturday night we were celebrating the 50th anniversary of my aunt and uncle, whose house I vacationed at each summer. I remember playing amazing whiffle ball games with my cousin and eating waffles and sausage for dinner one of the nights. His younger sister, grew up to run a beauty salon.

After the meal, she asked me if I ever donated my hair to locks of love... before the calendar page flips to June, I will make my third donation. The appointment has been made.

... who knows, maybe I will buy some socks soon.

the first part... thinking about land and a friend

Reflecting back on Saturday....

I am sitting in a retreat center with several members of my church. I am pondering if I will be a sweaty mess for the celebration I am attending later in the evening, and if I will survive a retreat which is so heavy on group time. But the retreat is a time for us to build relationships, so I relax into the group and hope to stay cool.


I am pondering who has been important in my spiritual journey. I pick up the stone to show the group I am prepared to speak and say... "John Touchberry." A few members ignore the fact that I am holding the stone and say, "His obituary was in the paper today." Now there are bigger things taking over my thoughts. I think of a trip to Bartram's Garden, and a year of weekly conversations, and how on a Christmas morning he began the cleansing of thoughts keeping me from a life with Christ, and about a friend who broke through years of silence to say hello just the other week on facebook, and of a trip to visit him on a mountain top, and I think about his wife, and I think about what an amazing blessing it was to know him....


Given free time I walk down a hill and I am standing beside the Monocacy Creek. My feet and spirit are at home. If I walked a mile south I would be in a highly favored birdwatching spot of my younger days. Turn north and go upstream, the creek becomes two... the east and west branches. There is a hill that divides those branches and that is where my family moved when I was five. In early spring I would race down that 2-3 mile hill on my bike, ride 10-20 miles and suffer my way back up it. By the fall, I would be exloring 60-80 miles on a weekend day. I can only hope that I will ever know a place so well.

John Touchberry loved that mountain in NC and because of that many folk were sad when he retired and left Pennsylvania.

At 2:20 my friends left the retreat center. I sat on a bench and waited for Mosaic Woman. In silence and in the shade, I had time to think some more.

Seven hours later I knew a haircut was going to happen (it has been years since the last)... but that is another story for another day.

...