Short Hours

Today I manage to wander back to work, but only for reduced hours - just to cover my desk shift. This stent is so uncomfortable. I feel like I am being poked constantly. Ow. I am still not passing water like I think I ought to be. Perhaps my body is so twisted from all the cancer stuff that it just takes forever to overcome something like stone removal. Or I am getting old. Or both.

My colleagues eye me with sympathy. They can see that I am not up to par. They offer to cover my upcoming night shift, and after finishing my reference desk shift today, I gratefully accept their offer. I cannot imagine being out of work for such an extended period over something that has been removed! I should be good to go. Sigh.

I hang on to the thought that once the stent is gone, I should be better. Of course, I am stewing about having to remove the darn thing and cannot even find the string they instruct you to pull! I will deal with that later. Right now I am going home and collapse.

Still No Work

I don't miss Sunday commitments without darn good reason. I have been known to go chemo defunct felling horrible and just do a lot of sitting rather than conduct standing. But yesterday I copuld not go. I could not get that far from a bathroom and the pain levels were still up there. I was beside myself at the thought of abandoning my choir. I know they did fine, but I chafe under the restrictions.

Today I still cannot not make it to work. Lord, please fix this so I can get back to my responsibilities! I do not want to sit still or be quiet or relax or behave. I have stuff to take care of. Really. really. well, Ok I am not indispensable. And you are in charge of my life. And apparently I need some time. I will do my best to accept this limitation and wait on you for your timing. Deep breath. I am determined to take it easy, drink lots of water, relax and try to enjoy the break. And the extra time with Drew who decides to stay home with me. We will have a family day. I am blessed.

No Work!

Ugh. I thought once that stone was gone I would be dancing the light fantastic. No such thing. The stent pokes me and makes it difficult to walk. The antibiotic gives me diarrhea and I think I am developing a yeast infection. I am still on pain meds and still bleeding. I was supposed to be at a retreat yesterday and at church today. Really, I thought I would be up to it. But there is absolutely no way I could consider going out today. For any reason! I am stuck home, confined to the recliner and begging the boys to walk the dog. Pout, pout, pout.

DJ's B-Day

Can you believe my first son is 35 today? I find that hard to swallow. It seems like just yesterday he was graduating from college and heading off on his own to North Carolina and a new job. He was so forlorn when I left him there. I wondered how he would ever find his way. My heart kind of hurt thinking about him being in such a strange place by himself.

For the first months, he called me every night and talked for an hour or so. His phone bill must have been astronomical. But gradually, he made friends, found a church, met some people, got to know his co-workers and settled in. His apartment was lovely, and he got himself a dog. The phone calls petered out. I was glad he was finding his place. I wanted nothing more than that he be happy and have a full and satisfying life.

Now here he is, still in North Carolina. Although he now works for a different company, he has a wife and two beautiful daughters, not to mention a host of animals. I always thought he should have been a vet. Four horses, four goats, a bazillion ducks, chickens, turkeys, guinea hens and other fowl, a few indoor birds, four dogs. Good Lord. That boy will never be lonely again. Exhausted, perhaps. But not lonely!

De-Stoned

Today I will have my kidney stone removed. Yeah! I am to report to the hospital at 11 am. Suddenly the urologist's office calls. The doctor is working ahead of schedule. Can I come right now? OK. I hurriedly call Andrea (bless her) and dress. We get there in record time. I am surprised that I am not more nervous. I guess I will just be relieved to be done with this pain.

I am distressed that the anaesthesia department prefers not to use my port. I have such a hard time with IV sticks. The nurse prepping me tells me that if she does not get in on the first stick, she will simply tell them she could not get a vein. I am content with that. She checks my arms. Seems my veins are coming back since the port has given them 4 years to recover. She has no trouble finding a good spot and has the needle taped in place almost before I realize it. Phew!

One of the pastors from Community of the Savior comes to be with me for a bit and pray with me. I am calmed by her presence. She is sweet and concerned. I am thankful for her prayers and for her touch. She cannot go with me to the pre-op area, and departs with promises to continue praying. Andrea and I are now in the staging area. Tons of people check in and ask questions.

The doctor comes, looks at the scan I had just an hour ago. Yes, the stone is still there. He takes a purple felt pen and makes a X on my left arm, just to mark which side the stone is on. Then he tosses the pen to Andrea with a grin. The anaesthesiologist comes to chat. His name is Andrew. He tells me how happy he is that the IV was possible. It is easier for them to control things if they have the larger access tubing available. I tell him I don't do well lying flat. He assures me they can keep me sitting up a bit. No problem.

Then they are wheeling me down the hall, tucking a net around my hair, strapping me to the operating table, putting an mask over my face. Just oxygen at first, then the odor changes and I start to feel floaty. Andrew peers down at me. Wanna hear a joke? OK. What do anaesthesiologists do all day? I don't know. They sit on soft stools and pass gas. What? Andrew is saying something else. Sorry for the burn. My arm and face suddenly feel like they are on fire.

I am trying to wake up. I can hear people talking. I think I am being moved. Someone says something about throwing up. I clear my throat. I can't quite get fully with it and I feel awful. They are sitting me up. I feel like I am being asked to do things I am not ready to do. OK, it will be fine. Just breathe. I see Andrea. I don't remember the IV being taken out. Now they are asking me to go to the bathroom and try to pee. Whoa - that burns like crazy. And the blood. E-gad. I ask the nurse if that is normal. Yes.

They offer a drink of ginger ale and a couple of crackers, but I am nauseous. They tell me to get dressed and Andrea goes to get the car. Wait! I don't think I am ready to be shoved out the door just yet. Don't I get a few minutes to collect myself? Apparently not. OK. Here we go. I sit in the wheelchair and find myself pushed down back hallways and around unused corners to a back door that I have never even seen before. This is weird. Am I still under the influence?

No. There is Andrea. Thank God for Andrea. I climb into the car and sink down. Let's go home. I am glad that's over, but I feel blicky. Last time I had a stone removed, they kept me over night. But that was in 2005. Things change. Andrea picks her way through the traffic and gets us safely home. I just want to sleep for awhile. Let's not do this again any time soon.

Choir Reading Session

Our new Easter cantata has arrived! I am excited to introduce it to the choir, I decide that we should just read through the entire work, not thinking about singing it so much as just getting familiar with the layout and find out which hymns we know and which are new. I selected this particular cantata because there are lots of old favorite hymns in it, yet it still presents the story with a fresh take.

Our accompanist is so competent that she ably plays it on first read. We enjoy working through it together, and the choir agrees that the songs are good ones. People like it as much as I do and I am glad we found a good match. We are free to go home with a song in our hearts tonight and a good cantata to look forward to. Yeah!

Spring?

What a strange winter this has been. More like early spring than anything. There are days when the sky is so blue I am fooled into thinking I am not in Rochester where the winter gloom and gray can be overpowering. Blue skies and sunshine in January? No snow on the ground? One one or two snowfalls, and minimal amounts? What is going on here?

We normally get around 80 inches in a season. So far this year, we have had maybe 4 inches. Ski resorts are in a quandary. Even the animals don't know what to make of it. Birds are hanging around singing. Ducks and geese pepper the lawns that are still green. Squirrels rampage and chatter mercilessly. Today I noticed that the crocus stalks are rising dark and green through the unfrozen dirt.

This is the weirdest January thaw I have ever experienced. How can you have a thaw when you haven't had a freeze? What on earth will the maple trees do? Syrup is bound to be sappy this year, and maybe in short supply. We shall see. There are still a good ten weeks for winter to get its act together and do something predictable.

Teaching

This week I am privileged to be working with some additional classes to show the students how to find books, journal articles, and other resources here in our library and from other local resources. I appreciate the opportunity to branch out a bit and meet students from programs I have not yet been involved with.

The professor sends me their paper topics and I take a look to make sure I understand the questions, to see what terms might be problematic, how many resources are available, whether the question is something that researchers have studied. I always find student's topics interesting. I would like to be able to read the research for some of them, and have sometimes asked to come to class when people are presenting their findings. Professors are always willing to let librarians sit in. Great way to learn current concerns and findings.

Sometimes I find I am less the teacher and more the student. Part of that lifelong learner thing.

Caring for your Parents

Roberts is offering a bring-your-lunch workshop on caring for your aging parents. While I am not a primary care provider, I am deeply affected by what is happening to Mom. I am frustrated and distressed and wish there were something I could do to contribute to her care even though I have neither the stamina nor the funds to do much of anything.

The women who are presenting the workshop have been working hard to improve care for the elderly. They provide concrete information about all different aspects of parent care, including what you can do if you live states away. This is helpful. Mom is being moved from Tennessee to California to live with another sister and her family now. I can barely imagine Mom being able to make such a trip.

She has never flown. She doesn't do much moving around, and just getting to the plane will tax her strength, not to mention her anxiety levels will be through the roof. The flight is long, and then the trip to my sister's from the airport will add even more time to an already long day. Everything at my sisters will be strange and new. Being part of a family again will add noise and confusion to what have been quiet empty days.

There will be both good and challenging parts to this change for her, but I feel Mom's concerns. I have begun praying often and long for a smooth and easy transition. Sometimes I wake in the middle of the night with Mom's name on my lips. How different her life has become. How overwhelmed she must often feel. Nothing is what she has been used to.

It frightens my brothers and sisters. We see what is happening to Mom and know that we could well have a much more difficult time of it as we age. I continue to hold onto the truth that in all my desperate situations, of which there have been many, God has always been there with me and provided for all my needs. He will not change just because I am getting old and won't have the kind of resources you are supposed to have.

I determine to call my sister and express my concerns. Communication has not been terrific and maybe it would help if I established an open line of conversation so I can better pray for Mom's situation. Yes, I think we can put something in place that will be helpful all around.

Vespers Sermon

Stay With Us, Lord Jesus

Luke 24:13-36

Did you ever meet someone who fascinated you? Someone who was gracious and wise and kind and knowledgeable? Someone you wanted to spend lots of time with? Someone whose words brought life – someone you could listen to all day long?

I met someone like that once. I was taking a week long music workshop one summer at Westminster Choir College. One of the women in my class told me she was married to a man who had been part of Einstein’s think tank inner circle. She said he was coming to get her on the last day, and would arrange for us to meet him at the final lunch in the dining hall. I was intrigued. I wondered what this brilliant man would be like. Would I be able to understand anything he said? Would he even notice a nobody like me?

The last day came and my closing class ran long. It had been demanding and I was exhausted. As I gathered up my things to leave, I didn’t see the woman. I thought I might have missed the whole lunch and I almost didn’t go at all. More out of curiosity than anything, on the off chance that this man was still there, I scurried to the dining room, up the stairs, grabbed a tray of food and looked around the dining tables. There were other students from my class sitting at a table way over by the windows. I headed in their direction, disappointed that the woman and her husband were not among them.

As almost the last arrival, I sat at the end of the table near an unkempt old man with rheumy eyes. How nice, I thought. The college is providing a free meal to a homeless person. My classmates were busy chatting amongst themselves, and I decided to stay out of their conversation.

The gentleman opposite me, with bare feet and long uncombed gray hair and long beard, wearing a flannel shirt in summer, set down his piece of bread and asked me a question. I humored him with an answer, and his response got my undivided attention. This was no mere homeless man. This was an intelligent and caring individual who engaged me in such a wonderful conversation that I forgot to eat. My classmates grew quiet as they too were drawn into the conversation.

I was thoroughly enjoying myself when the woman appeared. “I see you have met my husband,” she said. What? This is your husband? Of course! My classmates dropped their silverware in shock. Now it all made sense. No wonder our conversation had been so rich and informative. Unfortunately, they had to go. I wanted to spend much more time with this fascinating yet humble man, but it was not to be. To think I had almost missed him! If I could have followed him home I would have.

I think that might be something like what these two men on the road to Emmaus experienced. I imagine there could be much more to this story than just the bare bones recorded here. Perhaps it went something like this:

Cleopas and his friend had just been through the worst week of their entire lives. Here they were hanging around with a man who was obviously gifted and powerful. Jesus was constantly doing marvelous miracles – sick people were healed, hungry people were fed, lame people walked, blind people saw – the dead even came back to life! He seemed to have access to a ready supply of resources. It was amazing. Cleopas loved it. Crowds followed them everywhere.

Best of all, everybody agreed that this Jesus had the power to deliver them from the terrible bondage of the Romans. Those nasty Romans who took their crops and forced them to live in poverty, who made them pay unfair taxes and took their daughters and destroyed their way of life.

Any day they expected Jesus to walk into the Roman prefect’s office and take over, forcing the Roman officers to give back everything and let them live like they had in the good old days. The only Jews who seemed to dislike Jesus were the priests, though for the life of him, Cleopas could not figure out why.

It all happened so fast. One minute they were riding into Jerusalem like kings. The next Jesus was arrested, tried and killed. Worse than killed. Tortured. Beaten. Humiliated. Crucified. Cleopas had stood nearby and watched Jesus breathe his last breath. How could they treat him that way? Jesus had never hurt anyone.

Now he was dead and Cleopas ran for his life, terrified he would suffer the same fate. He and the rest of the men who had followed Jesus hid out in a dark stuffy room, reeling from the sickening events. Nothing made sense. Why didn’t Jesus just wave his hand and speak deliverance for himself? Why didn’t he kill those Romans? Or at least the priests who arrested him?

Cleopas’ insides crawled with anxiety. His head pounded. He couldn’t eat. He couldn’t sleep. He couldn’t think. He was filled with fear. What would he do? How could he go on? He had to get away. Had to go somewhere safe. As soon as things calmed down, he would make a run for it – go see his relatives in Emmaus. Yes, that’s what he would do. Wait until it was safe, then get out of Jerusalem.

Suddenly, Mary burst into the room, that crazy prostitute Jesus had rescued. She was blathering on and on about Jesus’ body not being in the tomb. Something about seeing angels and Jesus still being alive. What a bunch of nonsense. Peter and John, more to shut her up than anything, cautiously slipped out of the room to check it out. It was too much. Cleopas couldn’t take it anymore. He grabbed his friend. “Let’s get out of here.” The man nodded and the two of them backed into the shadows and out the door before anyone noticed.

They slunk along the back alleys and through abandoned yards until they were safely outside the city gates. They shuddered past the hill where Jesus died. Cleopas could not look at the cross still standing there. He felt like he was going to vomit. They stumbled along in silence until they were a good several miles from Jerusalem before either one said anything.

Then it was like a dam had burst. They went over and over the details of what had just happened, trying to figure out what went wrong. What should they have done to save Jesus? If only they had snatched him out of that garden before the soldiers arrived. If only they had known what was coming. If only . . .

They were so caught up in their conversation they didn’t even see the stranger until it was too late. He didn’t seem to be Roman. He didn’t even know about Jesus’ crucifixion. They found themselves telling him the whole sordid story, even the part about crazy Mary and the empty tomb.

Then, the strangest thing. He seemed to understand. He began to tell them about the sayings of the prophets and the ancient writings. Things began to make sense. Cleopas’ pulse slowed down. His stomach settled. His legs stopped shaking. Yes. Yes, what this man was saying made sense. Why hadn’t he seen it before?

He could have listened to this man talk forever. It was so comforting. He had stopped hurting, started wanting to live again. They had arrived at Cleopas’ destination. The man was taking his leave of them. “No – no,” Cleopas pleaded. “Don’t go. Stay with us awhile longer.”
Cleopas was frantic. How could he convince this man to stay? “Look, it’s getting dark and night is falling. Come in and have dinner. Spend the night here with us.”

To his delight, the man agreed. Cleopas rushed about getting things ready. At last, they sat down together. The man’s very presence evoked peace and confidence. As guest, they asked him to start the meal. The man agreed, picked up the loaf of bread, blessed it, broke it and handed him a piece.

Suddenly, Cleopas stared. He had seen this man break bread before. Could it be? No. It’s not possible. But it is. Yes! Yes! It was Jesus! He IS alive. He really is alive. Cleopas looked at his friend, grinning like a crazy person. He leapt up but Jesus was gone. Gone! Where did he go? Back to Jerusalem. Of course. They had to get back there. He grabbed his coat and dashed out the door with his friend.

I knew it Cleopas thought as he rushed along. I was so full of peace and joy when he was talking to us. It all makes sense now. I just knew it was him. Hurry up. I don’t want to miss him. I want to spend the rest of my life with him.

I find it intriguing that in both of these stories – the one about Einstein’s brilliant companion and the one about Jesus – the person wasn’t recognized for who they were until the breaking of the bread. Until we sat down with the person to enjoy fellowship with them, until we ate together, until we took the time to look into the person’s eyes, we did not understand.

Isn’t that the way it so often is? We long to see God, long to feel his presence, especially when we are having one of the worst weeks of our lives, especially when we are suffering or anxious or fearful, especially when things don’t make sense.

Sometimes it feels like – even though, like Cleopas and his friend, we have spent time with Jesus on a regular basis – suddenly God has deserted us. When someone we love has died, when someone we care about is suffering, when we have lost our job, when our health is at risk, when we have to do things we do not want to do, we wonder where God is. We are hurt and don’t understand. We look everywhere trying to find Jesus, but he is gone. Have you ever felt like that?

I take comfort in this story of Cleopas and his friend, bereft because of the death of someone they cared about. I take comfort because it gives me hope to know that Jesus will come to me in the midst of my sorrow, in the middle of my journey bringing his comfort and peace when I most need it.

Like Cleopas, I want Jesus to stay with me because in my life evening is often falling and night sometimes seems to be near. Like Cleopas, I want to hear Jesus explain what is going on, to feel his words burning in my heart, to know that everything is going to be alright.

I take joy in knowing that God has promised never to leave us or forsake us. I look for his comfort and presence in the breaking of the bread. For me, Jesus is the bread of life, broken for me, broken for you, broken for the world. And in that brokenness, he brings healing and wholeness.

I close tonight with a song of those words, Stay With Us, Lord Jesus, Stay With Us. Evening is coming and night is falling. It is often the prayer of my heart, even when things are not going wrong. I hope, if it is not the prayer of your heart that it will become as dear and precious to you as it is to me.

Dinner With the Kids

First time I have dinner at Kiel's house. I am delighted to be invited. I had to turn down the Christmas invite. Drew and I pull up after church and climb the steps to their one bedroom apartment. Everything looks cozy and comfortable. The table is set with their wedding china and looks lovely. Kiel and Andrea have the kitchen dance down to a science. Their closet kitchen is difficult for one person to function in, let alone two, but they do it beautifully.

Soon we are gathered around a table laden with chicken and potatoes and salad and rolls. Andrea is a good cook. The conversation is cheerful and the food delicious. Its nice to sit together at a table. Drew and I have such different schedules that we rarely eat together, even on weekends lately. I will be glad when Robotics is over and Drew is around a bit more. I am happy that he is enjoying the challenge and learning so much about mechanics. Still, I miss him.

I guess I need to get used to being the one alone now that I am nearly devoid of children living home. I have to let Drew go as I have done with the other boys, and learn to connect with him on a different level. Now it will be phone calls and emails and the occasional visit. Yes, that is what is normal as they go off and find their own way.

But for today, I will be thankful for a living room filled with children I love, chatting and enjoying each other's company. I am tiring, but reticent to give in. I am getting old. Now I am the grandma who dozes on the couch while the young are full of vinegar. Ah, well. Might as well squeeze all I can from the grapefruit while the squeezing is good.

What the Urologist Decided

How long have you been working on passing this stone? Almost two months now. That is long enough. Today's scans show that the stone is near the entrance to the bladder. I don't want to wait any longer for it to pass on its own. (I could have told you that weeks ago). Let's schedule a surgery to have it lasered so you can pass it. OK.

At least classes will be over with, but I hate to miss more time at work. He assures me it is a quick effective procedure and I will be on my feet in no time. He has an excellent success rate with this and does hundreds of them. I am sold. Schedule it. I have had stones removed by stone basket and shock waves. Why not try the laser. Sounds to me like once it is pulverized, it should just wash out easily.

But what I am most interested in is his statement that once the stone is gone, we will work on prevention through more than just diet. I would be very pleased to never have any more kidneystones!

Skinny Choir Rehearsal

How have we come to this? Yes, it is snowing a bit, but its nothing overwhelming. Yes, there is a lot of colds and flu going around. Yes, people have told me they have other commitments. But there are only 4 people at choir rehearsal tonight! Yikes!

The accompanist wants to call it quits and go home now before the roads get bad. I insist that we look at Sunday's music first, but promise to make it short and not look at upcoming weeks. We race through the lineup of hymns, responses, and the anthem, and in less than a half hour, we are on our way.

It has stopped snowing already. The roads are not even covered. But, ah well, what are you going to do? Some days have a mind of their own.

Long Day

My day begins at 5:30. Class begins at 8. We are involved all day long with intense focus and discussions. Lunch flies by. We dismiss at 5, and I hurry to work because I am on the reference desk tonight. The library is busy. Lots of papers are due. There is a flurry of activity to find citations, last minute resources, figure out APA requirements, etc. I field phone calls, emails, IM's, text messages, and in-person questions. Wow. This is unusual for a Wednesday night. There are two classes in the instruction labs, and students from there hit the desk as well as they attempt to connect with necessary resources.

Time flies by. Before I realize it, I am down to the last half hour. Suddenly the Circulation Supervisor asks me if I got the message from the Evening Supervisor. She will not be in. Is it OK to leave 2 students to close? Arrgghhhh! NO. The realization that I will have to stay until midnight after going strong all day hits me like a tsunami. The Circ Supervisor sees my distress. She has just seen one of the staff assistants in the cafe. Maybe he would be willing to work. She seeks him out.

I am drawn into another request for help while she asks around. Between the two of us, we manage to find a reasonable solution. There will be 3 students, none of whom have ever closed, but they have the instructions and a hurried lesson. It is far from desirable. I never got the message from the Evening Supervisor, and I am thankful the Circ Supervisor happened to mention it. Otherwise I would have been called back at closing.

What a disaster that would have been. As it is, the need for reference continues until well after 9, and by the time I drag myself home, I am exhausted. I am not as young as I used to be. Chemo has taken a toll, and I lecture myself about finding a way to get back in shape. Killer days are no longer a snap.

Preaching Class

I have heard our professor preach on a few occasions. I always find his messages insightful, challenging, thought provoking, engaging and interesting. He is an excellent preacher. At the beginning of each class session, he shares with us some ideas about different aspects of preaching.

How to create a good introduction. How to end well. How to communicate well. What to do when you realize your sermon is not working. Whether to use notes. How to improve your delivery. How to use illustrations and stories. How to plan the preaching year. Finding the balance between relevance and Scriptural integrity.

I had no idea there was so much to think about - until I read the basics books, and now I am hearing fresh perspective from a veteran preacher. He willingly shares his experiences and tells us stories of his flops as well as his successes. What a fascinating class! Here we are safe to ask all the hard question and learn what to avoid without making a mess of things. I absorb like crazy. I just hope I can retain it all.

Morning Off

I should pay more attention to the on-campus schedule. I am so locked into the 8 to 5 workday that I just assumed our time for the D Min program was lockstep with the normal workweek. Fortunately, it has built in breathing spaces. I am sure it is because, unlike me, most of the students live some ways away and need time to drive back after going home for the weekend.

I am grateful for the time to check in at work and make sure everything is going well there, catch up with stuff that needs my attention, and just make sure everyone is OK. Classwork this week will consist mostly of watching my classmates preach, then discussing how it worked, what might help, what was unclear. For me, this will be quite helpful since I don't preach on a regular basis.

I have never had anyone teach me how to preach to begin with. There is this idea that if you are a minister of music, you are also a preacher. I have been asked to fill in for pastors who will be away a few times, but all I knew of preaching was what I have observed over the last 50+ years of watching others, particularly my Father. No one ever told me how to pick a topic, how to study, what to be mindful of, etc. Now, having read many books on the subject, I feel as if I have some good guidelines about how to do it.

I find I really enjoy wrestling with a passage of Scripture and seeing what insight pops out. The books warned me that it would be hard to discard insights that have nothing to do with the focus of the message, and they were right. Once I discovered a new idea or thought, I really wanted to share it even when it had nothing to do with what I was talking about.

I am really looking forward to hearing my fellow students preach. They share such excellent comments on the discussion boards. I wish I had their depth of understanding of the Word. I do see clearly how my pastoral care bent does differ from the heart of a pastor who must consider all aspects of his congregation's spiritual life. Most interesting.

Howling Winds

Poor Sugar. She paces at the foot of my bed, shaking and whimpering. The wind outside is howling like a banshee. When Sugar first woke me up, I thought I was hearing a freight train. Sometimes when the air is humid I can hear the trains from my bedroom. But generally train sounds grow louder, then fades away and stops. This sound was just loud and there was no fading. Maybe it was one of those Air Force heavy transport helicopters?

In the grayness of predawn, I pulled aside the curtain and gazed out. The trees were dancing with St. Vitus, branches bounding and tossing. I could glimpse odds and ends of paper and stuff tumbling down the drive, flopping about wildly. This is a March wind at it best, but in mid January! How does that happen?

I pull Sugar close and stroke her trembling side. She settles down, but keeps glancing nervously around as if she were expecting the roof to collapse. Drew slept right through the whole thing. I fell back into a fitful sleep, dreaming of flying kites on the ocean beach and trying to run into the wind only to be dragged back. Somehow the Wizard of Oz and news scenes of hurricanes got mixed into the surreality of it all.

What a crazy night! What a crazy winter!

Drinking Like Crazy

Water, that is. I have to strategize in order to make all this swallowing seem reasonable. Normally I have a cup of tea in the morning along with a glass of water - well, half a glass. Then around ten I have more water, then something with lunch at noon (not usually water), something around 3 pm, water with dinner, and a drink before I go to bed. That makes 5 or 6 glasses of liquid a day. But then, I am not working at draining every drop or measuring the amounts or avoiding other drinks.

I have friends who swear that beer is the best kidneystone chaser they know. The doctor did not suggest that, but his six 12 ounce glasses a day is plenty to keep me busy. I try using all sorts and shapes of cups and glasses just to keep it interesting. A shot glass is an ounce, so its kind of fun to down 6 at a time. Then there are the Austrian crystal short beverage glasses, the champagne flutes, the small juice glasses, the blue mugs, the Christmas ivy and holly tall glasses, the root beer float glasses with the sturdy handles, the delicate tea cups that have been collected over the years. Can you tell that I love glasses? Of course, some of my collecting is self defense as the boys broke parts of sets.

If I am going to drink a ton of water, I can at least serve it creatively and keep the boredom to a minimum. In the morning, I line up all the different containers and put them in the particular order that appeals for that particular day. Sometimes it is by height, shortest to tallest or vice versa. Sometimes it is by color gradation, light to dark or the reverse. Sometimes it is from thickness of the glass, from thin to stout. Whatever I can do to mix it up.

One way or another, I will meet the prescribed amount of drinking and pray that the flush will work. Meanwhile, maybe I can find some fancy crackers with salt to help me be thirsty!

Home Early

I didn't realize it, but our classes end at noon today. The afternoon is set aside to meet with your dissertation advisor. Wow! I actually have some time since I am not yet meeting with my advisor. I decide to go home and rest. Maybe I can coax that stone into moving down more. Besides, my poor little brain is blowing up with all this thinking and grappling with issues stuff. I need a break!

Ah, but when I get home, I realize that between the medical stuff and the school stuff, I have alas neglected the house stuff. Hard to keep it all going sometimes. So I am grateful for some time to catch up with the dishes, the laundry, the cleaning (especially the bathroom!) and the restocking of the empty shelves and fridge. Thank God for the little blessings and breaks. Sometimes Friday the 13ths are actually good for you.

Cool Scan

I meet with the urologist today. The first thing he does is show me the scan they took while I was in the ER. He scrolls with the mouse, and its like seeing a camera zoom down the insides of my body. You can see each layer clearly, where the bones are, where the organs are, all of it!

He stops to point out a small blob of light. That is the stone in the tube. There is a smaller dot of light in the kidney itself. What an amazing scan! These digital images look nothing like the old x-rays where you could barely make out the skeleton. The next step is to go get another scan to see if the stone has moved. He sends me down to the lab, and in minutes - literally minutes - they take 3 shots and tell me to go back to the doctor. He will have the images before I get up the stairs. This is not like it was last time I had a kidneystone!

The doctor and I peer at the new images. Yes, the stone has moved. It is close to the bladder. He is hoping that in a few more days it will drop into the bladder. I also hope it does, but I admit that I am skeptical. And a bit fearful. With only one tube obstructed, I can still pass water. If this darn thing gets stuck in the tube from the bladder out, nothing will be moving. Yikes! What a rotten time to have to deal with this mess.

He tells me to come back in a week for another look. And drink water. Six 12 ounce glasses every day. Don't overdo it. OK. I head back to class wishing I could wave some magic wand and draw that darn stone out without so much as an ouch. No matter. Right now I have to regroup and get my head back into the classroom. Still, that amazing scan keeps me smiling.

Foundations Class

Today I am in class catching up. So sorry to have missed the first session. I gather up the handouts and catch up on notes. The conversations are deeply philosophical, very intricate interconnections of eras and cultures and movements and such. It is work to keep it all straight and in perspective. I buckle down, trying to set aside all thoughts of kidney stones and ER drama. There is much to focus on.

I appreciate getting the chance to sort through the layers of rhetoric and discover the foundations upon which our faith is built. This is so important as we increasingly interact with other cultures. How do you keep the truth while allowing its flavor to be expressed by different people? It has been done for centuries. Those are the strains we examine. Those are the documents we come to understand and appreciate - things like the creeds and the writings of the early church fathers.

Can we apply what they discovered to our situation today? Yes, if we can just grasp the truth, if we can just see the heart of the Father. I listen to my learned colleagues. They are in the struggle on a regular basis, much more so than I. Our discussion reminds me of that hymn - On Christ the solid Rock I stand - all other ground is sinking sand. I have so much to learn.

Night in the ER

I have been struggling with kidney stone stuff since Christmas. Most of the time I can manage when the pain begins. I have learned to layer Tylenol and Advil and hug a hot water bottle. I drink extra water and after a bit it all calms down. Then I get a span of time pain free before the whole thing begins again. Sometimes I know before the pain hits because of the blood in the urine. Then I can initiate a preemptive strike.

Somehow yesterday amongst all the joy I must have forgotten to drink enough because I barely got home when the overwhelming pain dropped me to my knees. I took the pain meds, but I knew right away I had lost control. I was going to have to go to the ER. Rats and phooey. That is one place I prefer not to be. But there is no help for it. I climb in the car and head out despite protests from Drew and Kiel. But there is no way I am dragging anyone else into what promises to be an all night mess.

As soon as I arrive, I put on a mask to try and prevent picking up any germs. I explain that I have a compromised immune system and that I am in pain from a kidneystone. They take me seriously once they look at my record and put me in a room right away. The doctor sends me for a ct scan, and once the stone is confirmed (although there is already a confirmation from previous scans - 2 stones, the largest one 7 mm) she immediately gives me a shot. I lie back and let the warmth consume me, relaxing slowly as the medicine takes effect.

But the pain is persistent. It dies down but does not go away. I end up getting a second shot and now I am nauseous. I have to take something for that. Once the pain is gone, they release me, but I am too woozy to drive myself home. The nurse understands and does not rush me, letting me sleep a bit longer until I can manage. Yup - I have been there all night. And yes, I do have an appointment with the urologist in two days. And yes, they are sending me home with stronger pain med prescriptions than just Tylenol. Sigh.

I have never been able to pass a stone on my own. And this one is only half way down the tube from the kidney to the bladder. They usually make me wait until it is close to the bladder or in it before they intervene. We shall see. Meanwhile, I will miss my first morning of class. Rats. Stone, stone, go away, don't come back and make me pay.

Spiritual Formation

Our D Min on-campus sessions begin today. I look forward to seeing everyone face to face again instead of written postings on our online discussion boards. The first scheduled event is a time of renewal and refreshing at the St. Bernard's Seminary in Pittsford - the same space where Community of the Savior meets weekly. For me, a familiar environment. For others, another new place to locate and get comfortable with.

I walk through the doors and immediately see familiar faces. Hugs and handshakes and catching up chatter fill the space along with the aroma of coffee. We will observe the hours (as in the divine office hours) as we work through our day, reminding ourselves of why we are pursuing this degree, what God has called us to do, setting aside the hurried pace of life to be still and reflect and reconnect.

Our spiritual guide for the day is wonderful at helping us establish a reasonable balance between worship and reflection, providing us questions to help us hear from God, to sense the presence of the divine among us. Our day is divide between time together and time alone. We can walk outdoors (it is a bit chilly but a beautiful sunny day with bright blue skies filled with the promise of spring), curl up in a cozy chair, or walk about indoors as we reflect on our assigned topics.

For me, this is the equivalent of a banquet for the soul. Well paced, filled with good things, satisfying, surrounded by welcome guests, not overly crowded and hectic. The day progresses smoothly from breakfast through lunch and into the dinner hour. The soup and rolls are warm and filling, the conversation engaging. What a wonderful day this has been. I am so glad the on-campus sessions begin thus. It sets the pace for the rest of our time together, a time that I know will be full and demanding.

Reconnection

Our new Circulation Supervisor decided that our students need a time at the beginning of the spring semester to catch up with all the changes and to straighten out any confusion about procedures. Good idea. We do this kind of event at the beginning of the fall semester to remind everyone about details that get fuzzy over the summer. Since we have been at loose ends this fall, it makes sense for her to get everyone on the same page.

She plans for a Sunday afternoon right before the library opens. The turnout is reasonable. We get the opportunity to meet the new hires and learn something about them. I suspect my presence is a bit off-putting, but I don't mean to be. I just know that our new supervisor may not know all the answers just yet. Soon I am sure she will be up to speed, but I don't want to abandon her too soon.

We have a good time of interaction and cover a lot of territory about little pieces that happen at the desk, the ones which tend to go astray and drive us all crazy. I hear a lot of "ohh's' and 'ah-ha's' and I am hopeful that perhaps some of the frustrating little glitches will clear up soon. Finally we break for pizza just in time for the Staff Assistants to begin the opening process. Good meeting. And now, I head home, happy to be done for the day. Sugar awaits.

Mom

Jan went to visit Mom over the holidays. This year, Mom did not experience such a low spirit of depression as last year. It is true that over time, while the ache of missing a husband of nearly 60 years will never go away, the distress tends to be less severe. Every year brings with it some small measure of healing - else we would all end up in a terrible soup!

Unfortunately, my caregiving sister's situation is changing. She is having to seek employment in another state. Her need to move and be in limbo for a certain amount of time, her selling of her beautiful house and needing time to reconnect in a new area will not be something she can do easily if she is still fully in charge of Mom. The commitment of time is too great. My younger sister steps up. Her family lives in California. They spent weeks of time with Mom last year and feel that a change of scenery and care givers might be just the thing to help Mom begin to feel more like her own self.

The plans are discussed. How to get Mom to California in one piece, how to get her car out there so my brother, who has been with her for some long time and who will stay with her in California, will have a way to get Mom to doctor appointments etc. He will drive out, pulling a trailer behind the QE II (Mom's nickname for her Lincoln that is as big as a boat) so that her special bed and equipment can go with her. Deb will fly out with Mom, first class non-stop after Jim gets there to meet them at the airport.

Will it work? No one knows. It is a BIG step. It seems crazy to me. I have already begun praying even though this will not take place until the end of the month. Even after Mom gets out there and settles in a bit, will she take to family life again, kids with their noise and clutter, a dog? Will the wonderful weather and sunshine offset the strangeness of this new land for her? I pray it will be a tonic for her shattered world.

I would appreciate your prayers for Mom too. I love her dearly and it pains me not to be in a position to be of help to her. I am thankful for the fact that there are 8 of us kids and many in a position to help. Care for the aging parent is a community proposition, no doubt about it. God help us all.

Retreat

Time for our first of the year retreat, the one where we all head for the Meridian Center and get our heads out of the daily routines to see if we are still heading in the right direction. An important activity. This year we have new people to bring on board, people who have not been through the opening and settling of a new building and a new work flow. People who have only been with us for part of a year and will not know all of the upcoming impacts that are a normal part of academia.

Where once we had a fairly well oiled team, one where we knew what to expect and who fit where, we now are in the process of reconfiguration and redefining our strengths and needs. We plan to revisit our Mission and Vision statements and see how we are fulfilling them, where we need to do better, where we need to change strategies. For me, this is an invigorating process. It reminds me of the eagle who beats his beak against the stone to keep it sharp and functional so that it can still eat. For others, this is sheer torture filled with pain and distress.

Even though there is not uniform buy-in, even though some grit their teeth and tolerate the silliness of team building activities, people come away with a better understanding of why we do what we do, and why we keep working at making it better. I hear the reinvestment in the conversations. I hear the "so that's why" surprise in their vocal inflection.

Those involved in planning the retreat are never sure we are hitting the mark until all is said and done. Grace of God, today as in the past, we feel that important conversations took place and good ideas were generated. We are closer, more tightly knit as a family despite our individual foibles and follies. And, I hope, people realize that here in this workplace, we do care - about each other, about our students, about our work, about our world.

Pinecone Cobs

Beneath every pine tree, Sugar and I discover empty pine cone cobs. It is obvious that the squirrels have been busy eating themselves happy. Like gnawed corn cobs, the tiny pine cone ribs lie scattered about on the still green grass, their white skeletons beginning to dry and wither. I resist the temptation to gather them up and create wreaths from their straw-like forms.

Sugar barks at the cheeky nibblers who barely raise a whisker in our direction. They simply crawl around to the other side of the pine tree trunk and flick their tails in disdain at our intrusion of their lunch. I wonder if squirrels consider the nuts in pine cones to be delicacies? Do they realize that by consuming the dangling pine tree fruit they are depleting what could be their only reachable source of food should snow actually appear this winter?

I have my hands full making sure Drew is fed and Sugar has her treats. I would love to put out seeds for the many feathered friends still hanging around, but that is not to be this year. Perhaps next year I will put something in the tree by my living room window, to entertain Sugar and keep the birds happy. Not that they seem to be wanting, mind you. Just that they would dine where I could enjoy their beauty.

Techno-lutions

There is a new move afoot called Universal Design. The idea is that what helps someone with some kind of disability actually benefits everyone. Rather than making accommodations for someone with special needs, you plan for the broadest possible access without making anyone have to ask for help. The example given is that although curbs were altered to allow for wheelchair access, the lowered curbs also helped many others including moms with baby strollers, people with walkers, skateboarders, bicycles, etc. An interesting concept with no small amount of merit.

For our reserve system, that means we have to provide access to the thousands of articles that professors put online for course readings in numerous formats. No small feat for sure. I call on our technology department to help us with a conversion plan. To my amazement and delight, they are already working on a special drive where you can drag a pdf into a folder and it is automatically converted into a word doc (and vice versa). Somehow I should not be surprised at this magic answer to what might have been a daunting process.

They promise to make it ready for us soon. Meanwhile, they will take care of the immediate needs until it is up and running. Answers before you even know there will be questions. Too bad more of life isn't like that. Or is it?

ReOpening

Today, even though our students are not yet back, we open the library. Turns out there are a number of non-traditional students and graduate students happy to come. We talked with the registrar a few years ago and were distressed to learn that there is no time of the calendar year that we do not have classes in session.

We have tried to keep our facility open during undergraduate breaks, because we do not want to ignore our adult population. This year, facilities closed the building to resurface the pitted stone flooring and refinish the cork floors in the 24 hour area. I did try to come to my office during break to work on a paper, but the smell of their chemicals was too strong and obnoxious. I left. I see why they had to close.

Besides, the last time we stayed open, it snowed a ton and there was no one to clear the walk ways into the building. Last year our newspaper person complained about this, even when facilities is here. We ended up placing a mail tube by the parking lot so the paper could be left without coming on the property at all.

There is an initial flux of incoming students. They look worried, overwhelmed, serious. I am glad we are open for them even though they are few in number. Gives me time to clean out my bloated email boxes and sort through files to get more organized.

At least the weather is decent (sorry Drew).

Snow!

At long last winter has arrived in Rochester! Drew is beside himself with joy. Big splatty flakes plaster the ground, the trees, the car - everywhere is pristine white! Not enough to cancel school which starts up tomorrow for Drew. But we still have today to play and be happy with a taste of winter.

Perhaps we love snow so much right now because we have been expecting it for such a long time. Perhaps because it is still novel and not impeding us from our required duties or forcing us to be indoor prisoners. I know this winter will be like all winters and eventually we will moan about the darn cold and sloppy roads and pesky bothersomeness of snow. We will sigh for spring and warmth and greenness. But not today.

Today we watch Sugar bounce around with abandon, hopping from one snowy spot to another to another, sticking out her tongue like a child and licking the brilliant coldness, then snuffling along, sneezing clouds of white into the air. We rejoice that the deadness of autumn is hidden away beneath cozy blankets of protection, awaiting renewal.

Yeah, snow! Yeah winter! Hurrah!

Happy New Year 2012

Today I am privileged to be allowed to give the sermon at Community of the Savior! What a great way to start a new year. Here is the gist of what I contemplated:

20/20 Vision

[take glasses off]
When I was in the 7th grade, I began to notice that I was having difficulty seeing the blackboard in class. I used to squint my eyes to see what the teacher was writing. I sat near the blackboard. I waited until the bell rang to copy the next day’s assignment which the teacher always wrote on the blackboard. I was pretty functional. I understood what was going on in class, I could do my homework. It wasn’t so bad.

[put glasses on]
Eventually my parents caught on and took me to the eye doctor and I got my first pair of glasses. I was amazed at what I had been missing! I could see every leaf on the trees around me. I could recognize friends waving at me from the other end of the hall. It was wonderful to be able to see clearly. I am thankful for glasses.

[take glasses off]
Sometimes I wish I had glasses that would let me see clearly into the spiritual realm. There’s some pretty crazy stuff going on out there. Awhile back, people were falling on the floor laughing in the name of the Holy Spirit. Then there’s that whole ‘name it and claim it’ movement, and the healing crusades where some people get healed and others don’t.

What about the several hundred different Christian denominations out there, not to mention the differences between congregations of the same denomination – mega, seeker, contemporary, traditional, liturgical, casual. Who is right? Where is God in all of that?

Wouldn’t it be wonderful if you could put your spiritual glasses on and look at Pittsford and see God’s salvation at work. [put glasses on] Oh, look! That’s of God. You could look at downtown Rochester – and see where God’s saving grace is at work – and it may not even be all that church connected.

More than just seeing where God is at work, we would know how we can be part of the work of the kingdom and not get ‘taken in.’ I don’t know about you, but I want to be in sync with God’s work. I want to see clearly what God’s intentions are for this area and for my life and ministry.

My desire is to be involved with work that has significant and eternal value, not just 9 to 5 time clock punching. I want to know that when I stand before God, he will say “Well done, good and faithful servant,” and that I won’t be embarrassed because I kept missing the boat. I don’t want to miss God. I want to cooperate with God at work in my world. But how do I know I am on course?

The good news is, God does want us to see his salvation at work in the world. He does want us to guide us in our work for the kingdom. God has given us lots of avenues of guidance. One of the most important is his Word. We can pray for guidance. We can talk with godly men and women we know. We have the church to teach us God’s truths.

But sometimes, even with all of that, it feels like we just can’t quite see the writing on the blackboard. Sometimes it feels like the trees are big green blobs and we can’t see the leaves clearly. How do I know when I am in sync with God’s plans?

Today, in our gospel story, we meet 2 people who clearly saw God at work in their world. They didn’t miss God. In fact, they actually saw God. Ask yourself, “If I had lived in Jerusalem when Christ was born, would I have known?” How did Simeon and Anna know where to go and what to look for? How did they come to be in sync with God’s plan of salvation? What special inside track did they have? What were their spiritual glasses made of?

First, let’s look at Anna. Anna was a ‘get up close to the blackboard’ kind of person. She spent all her time in the Temple worshiping God, praying, fasting, hearing the scriptures read – doing all those spiritually formative activities that we learn about today. Richard Foster would have been proud of Anna!

That’s the first key. We must want to see God at work in the world. We must want to know what is written on the blackboard. We must be willing to do what it takes to get close to the blackboard.

In the 1980s I lived in the Saratoga Springs area and attended a small church that taught about divine healing. There was an older woman and her adult daughter who attended faithfully. The daughter had been blind from birth. Yet she never went forward to pray for sight. One day I had an opportunity to ask her about it. She told me that she did not want to see! Imagine that! I was flabbergasted. Why on earth would anyone choose to remain blind when they might be able to see?

She explained that she would have to completely relearn how to think, how to navigate, how to live. I still didn’t understand what she meant, so she gave a few examples. I attend this church because for me it’s closer to my house. In reality, there is a closer church, but I would have to walk there. It would take me 25 minutes to navigate the 3 blocks. But in a car, I can get to this church in less than ten minutes. For me, this church is near and that church is far.

Near and far would take on completely different meanings! As would colors and faces – the reality would not match my imagined truths. I wouldn’t know who anyone is anymore. I would have to get a job – my whole life would be altered. I’m just not interested.

How does a sighted person convince a blind person that seeing is better than being blind?

That’s the second key: We must be willing to change based on what we see, even if it’s challenging.

There is much to be said for centering our lives around the things of God and getting close to God’s blackboard. Anna was willing to it. Because Anna spent time immersed in the things of God, she didn’t have to imagine what the salvation of the world would look like. She found herself at the right place at the right time and she recognized what was happening.

When Anna woke up that morning, did she feel a stirring inside? Did she know that the salvation of God would come into the Temple? Did she know she was looking for a baby and not a grown man?

I can imagine her finding a perfect vantage point, eagerly searching the faces of the crowds who came and went, people about their everyday business? With all the noise of vendors hawking their wares and animals bawling and dust flying and kids shouting and parents scolding, how did she recognize Jesus when she saw him? How did she know?

Anna was a prophetess. That meant that before the Holy Ghost had been given to the world, before Jesus was glorified, before Pentecost, before God sent the Comforter, the Teacher, the

Helper, her life intersected with the Holy Ghost. Prophets were people who were given special insight into the work of God by the Holy Spirit. I believe that the Holy Ghost guided her, helped her to see God at work in her world.

But maybe Anna is an aberration. After all, not many of us can spend every moment in the Temple! Our Scripture this morning tells us that the Holy Spirit rested on Simeon, who was not a prophet. He did not spend every waking moment in the Temple. He was a righteous and upright man. He was devout. He was immersed in spiritually formative behavior.

Verse 27 tells us that Simeon, guided by the Holy Spirit, came into the temple when the parents brought in the child Jesus for dedication.

That’s the third key: we must be willing to do what the Holy spirit tells us to do, even if it doesn’t make sense.

What would have happened if Simeon had questioned what the Holy Spirit was telling him to do? What if he had reasoned it through? He could have said, “Look, the Christ is supposed to come from Bethlehem. I should pack my things and go there, right? How does it make sense for me to go to the Temple? I have been there a hundred times and didn’t see the salvation of God.”

It reminds me of when I first got my GPS. I bought it for a cross country trip I needed to make, but I wanted to try it out around town first to see how it worked. So I plugged it in and programmed it for home when I was at the mall. I knew perfectly well how to get home. I knew a number of ways in fact. I had driven it hundreds of times. So when TomTom told me to take an exit I had never taken, I refused to believe him. I thought he was crazy or broken.

I argued with him and went my own way. Patiently, Tomtom told me to turn around at the first opportunity and go back. When it became apparent that I was not going back, he just rerouted and gave me new directions that were also not familiar to me.

I tried this on several occasions, always with the same results. Tomtom was just plain wrong. Finally, I decided to try things Tom’s way. What could it hurt? I could always find my own way home. After all, I knew the territory. Imagine my surprise when I discovered a shorter route with less traffic! Turns out Tom knew what he was talking about after all!

Simeon trusted the guidance of the Holy Ghost. He responded to that still small voice whispering to his heart. He got up, went to the Temple, searched until he found what the Spirit had told him about. He was at the right place at the right time to see God’s salvation.

Think about it. I am sure Jesus was not the only baby in Jerusalem being circumcised that day. When my first son was born, we lived in a small village with a small hospital. On the day he was to be circumcised, I wandered down to the nursery to check it out. There sat the doctor all gowned and masked, the nurses assisting. Just behind the station where he was working stood a lineup of baby beds filled with boys waiting their turn. There must have been several dozen.

Imagine what it must have been like in a big city the size of Jerusalem! There must have been many babies coming that day. How did Simeon know who to look for?

Was there a halo of light over Jesus head? Did his parents send out baby dedication announcements so Simeon and Anna would know the right day and exact time? I don’t think so. The Holy Ghost guided them. That’s how they knew. They had Holy Ghost glasses that helped them see clearly beyond the common activity of the everyday into the realm of the eternal.

Simeon held Jesus in his arms and proclaimed “Lord, I can die happy because I have seen your salvation.” He was in sync with God at work in his world. He had obeyed the Holy Spirit, and he knew he would hear “Well done, good and faithful servant.” He had not missed God.

Simeon and Anna were in sync with God’s plan because they were centered on the things of God and because they were guided by the Holy Spirit.

They wanted to see God. They were willing to change according to what they saw. They were willing to do what God asked of them. They looked at life through the lenses of daily spiritual formation and the guidance of the Holy Ghost. It was 20-20 vision.

We too can be centered on the things of God. We who have the Holy Spirit dwelling within us ought to be even more able to clearly see what God is doing in our world and to know what He is calling us to do.

The Chinese have declared 2012 the year of the dragon. I think we should declare 2012 the year of Clear Vision for God’s people.

This year, every time you put your glasses on, remind yourself to stay centered on the things of God and pray for Holy Ghost guidance.

Every time you see someone else wearing glasses, remind yourself to stay centered on the things of God and pray for Holy Ghost guidance.

Every time you take your glasses off, remind yourself to stay centered on the things of God and pray for Holy Ghost guidance.

Together let us make this a year of clear vision and great progress for the kingdom of God. Like Anna and Simeon, may we find ourselves in the right place at the right time to see the salvation of God at work in our lives, in our church, in Pittsford, in Rochester, in New York, in the United States, in the world.

Amen.