A Long Day's Journey

Last week, I spent several days with my sister, her husband, and my niece in Minnesota. We do not see each other often, as they live in southeast England and we live in east central Iowa.

My 11-year-old niece has traveled back and forth from England to America numerous times in her life so far.

I wonder what our great-grandparents would think of the ease of international travel these days. In their time, crossing the Atlantic was often a once-in-a-lifetime trip. Thinking of our immigrant family members who said final goodbyes to their families in Sweden because the cost of the passage was so great.

Today, it is a long day's flight, depending on which direction we are traveling. The greatest inconvenience is going through security or customs. It is not the difficult trip by air as it was by ship back in the day. The world is much smaller than it was just 100 years ago and the ease of international travel allows for cousins to spend precious time together growing up.

Forty years

My dad tells me that he got me out of bed on July 20, 1969, to watch the live shot from the moon. I was just ten days from turning five. Today, 40 years later, it occurs to me that I'm one of those who witnessed it. However, I don't remember it.

I do remember seeing news coverage of Robert Kennedy's assassination the summer before. I do remember the nightly news starting with the words, "Today in Saigon..." I do remember seeing The Beatles sing "Hey, Jude" on The Ed Sullivan Show. Those are some of my earliest memories. Those, and Pastor Greunke's white rabbit fur tie he wore on special occasions, like my sister's baptism.

The photos of Apollo 11 still amaze me and when we know now that my son's hand-held video game had more oomph than the entire lunar module, it really is an unbelievable accomplishment that they made it there, and back, and lived to tell about it.

What's the next amazing thing we will accomplish?

Knit one, purl two, and breathe...

Breathe... there's a lot of power in this word and the reminder brought to us recently from Leo Babauta on his blog, Zen Habits, is one that I could benefit from reading daily.

My trusted advisor, Liturgy Geek, reminds me of the benefits of knitting during times that require our focused attention. I sat through a particularly interesting General Synod committee meeting last month with two other women, as we knit in the back of the room.

"I usually tell the speaker that I really am listening so they don't think I am ignoring them," said one of the Iowa women sitting with me.

"It allows my mind to focus on the subject if I can keep my hands busy," said the other knitter.

I developed an interest in knitting after spending Iowa Conference board meetings with a knitter-extraordinaire...she used skewers that looked a little larger than toothpicks to knit the cuff of a sleeve. Wow. Could I ever be that good?

After the knitter extraordinaire left the board, I picked up the knitter's place at the table. We were facing difficult times and meetings were very stressful. During a break at one of the board meetings, a older member of the board told me how it helped calm him during meetings. "My mother used to knit and it is very relaxing to me to watch you work the yarn and to listen to the click of the needles."

At General Synod, I think I ripped out the double-eyelet scarf pattern about nine times at until I realized that a more simple double moss stitch would actually work better than a more involved pattern... A more simple pattern allowed a rhythm to develop that was more satisfying and allowed me to breathe better. I'm a new follower to a blog, Holy Knit! who relates a similar story about knitting at General Synod meetings.

Knitting is often yoga for my hands...helping me to breathe into new places in many new ways.

My Country Tis of Thee

Watching the PBS, "A Capitol Fourth" tonight, the Divine Miss Em quietly began singing, "My Country, Tis of Thee" along with the band on the television.

In her pink pjs, with a fudgesicle in hand, and said fudge around her mouth, the sweetest voice sang along. I guess I didn't realize she knew the song and it was lovely to hear.

Here she is at Yankee Doodle Pops on Thursday night in Des Moines. "Grandpa Scott" Stouffer sitting in front of her...

We're a bi-coastal family tonight. On this Independence Day, John, Dad, my mother and stepfather, are in England with Catherine and to celebrate Julie and Jim's wedding today. July 4 isn't the same in the UK as it is in the US, of course. It will be interesting to hear what John thought about a different kind of celebration today. No burgers, potato salad, watermelon, or sparklers.

But I'm sure there are fireworks of some kind - congratulations to Julia and Jim Elgar.

30 Years On...

I'm noting an interesting anniversary this week.

June 1979 - I was 14 years old and found myself on a trip to General Synod of the United Church of Christ in Indianapolis. 1979 was the summer I "grew up." Just a few weeks before I left for Indianapolis for the General Synod, my parents announced their divorce and I was wondering how our family would move forward from that point. That trip was the first time I was any distance from my family for a week and that's a good and necessary experience for teenagers to have.

What I didn't realize is how much that trip would impact my life.

Growing up in rural Iowa in the late 70's, there were few, if any, persons of color in my hometown. I know there were gays and lesbians, but they certainly weren't out. At 14, I was introduced to the "heady and exasperating mix" known as the United Church of Christ at the national level. Even though the titles came later, we strive to be a multi-racial, multi-cultural, open and affirming, just-peace church. We believe that God is still speaking and that another world is possible. It was a wonderful way for this small-town girl to be introduced to the wider world beyond media stereotypes.

And now, 30 years later, I'm enjoying my eighth General Synod. This time as an associate delegate because of my role as the chair of the board of directors for the Iowa Conference. This church is a very large part of my life. So many of my most foundational relationships have come from my belonging to this church. these relationships qualify as "chosen" family.

God is good, all the time.....all the time, God is good.

Wow, You are my age.

I met Rev. Geoffrey Black tonight, the candidate for the President and General Minister of the United Church of Christ tonight. Maybe it's because I'm older. My boss is my age. My physician is younger than me. The First Lady, Michelle Obama, is my age. President Obama is only a few years older than me. And now, the next President and General Minister of the UCC, my church, is a contemporary.

I can relate to that. Very cool.

And the hate goes on...

About ten years ago, I had a pastor who shared the theory that humans were at the end of their "teenage" years. Makes sense when you think about the vast history of human evolution. The teen years are visceral, passionate, filled with hormonal emotion. Teens tend to be impulsive, to believe they are immortal and indestructable. They act first and then think. They say incredible things without any filter.

For thousands of years, the human race has been solving conflicts through war, hate-filled words, segregation (the cool kids sit at their own table at lunch) and the condemnation of anyone who doesn't fit in.

As adults we cringe when we hear how mean teenagers can be to each other. But, the examples we are setting are more serious and harmful. Here's a situation my close friend Arlene is dealing with. Anti-gay messages full of hate, targeted at others. The assassination of Dr. George Tiller. The 88 year old neo-Nazi who walked into the National Holocaust Museum and killed a guard at point-blank range. There is nothing noble in this. There is nothing that advances the human race through these hate-filled actions.

My hope is that this is the end. That enough people have evolved into young adulthood who begin to hold the rebellious, hell-raising teens accountable for their hate. My fear is that they will not "go quietly into that good night." The teens realize they are quickly being outnumbered and they are very, very afraid. My fear is that things are going to get much worse before they get better. It's up to us to hold the line and not let these domestic terrorists continue to push their hate-filled agenda and actions on anyone else.

It's up to us to bring our children into a new world, populated with young adults who are more idealistic in our world view. As the saying goes, "another world is possible."