Saturday, September 26, 2015

Tea with God

A tremendous gift sabbatical has provided is quality time with quality people. There has been no shortage of friendship-building during the last two months. I am especially grateful for this since I live alone and just four years ago moved across the continent to a state in which I had no family and just two friends. Those two people, by the way, happen to be married and both Lutheran pastors - one of whom is serving as the sabbatical pastor at my church as I write this. Thanks, Kathleen!

I was inspired by the quality people I met in the Iona community this past week - other guests in the program along with the staff and volunteers. Program participants came from around the world - mostly Europe with a few from Australia and North America - for the sake of personal and church renewal. The group consisted of pastors, musicians, and committed Christians who delight in singing and praying, particularly in the Celtic Christian tradition. Through sharing in a day-long pilgrimage around the island, preparing daily meals, participating in workshops and worship together, and of course enjoying daily tea-breaks, we bonded and kept surprisingly busy.

On Tuesday's seven hour, seven mile pilgrimage to sacred sites around Iona, including where St. Columba first landed.

Worshipers leaving Iona Abbey after morning prayer.

There has been less quiet and solitude than I would have expected on this holy island - simply because the experience of Iona is so much about the community itself. Sleeping on the top bunk in a small room with four (brilliant!) women and sharing bathroom(s) with dozens of others provides an experience other than solitude.  But that which it provides instead - community and new friends, good conversation, warmth and hospitality - is wonderful and I lapped all of it up.

I was placed on the "Otter" team of helpers which meant I served breakfast (consisting of porridge, toast and cereal), cleaned up afterward, and chopped vegetables after worship. Here are a few other otters hard at work.


After wavimg goodbye to my new friends yesterday as they returned to their respective homelands, I felt sad, knowing I am not likely to see most of them again and aware how precious our time together was. I also was alone for the first time in awhile which helped me to be more aware of my feelings.

The next guests arrive shortly on the same ferry and I expect to have the same kind of affection for them as we enter together in this week's program: "Greeting your life with Gospels."

Today I am alone, but certainly not lonely.  It has perhaps never been more clear to me that God is right here with me. I have worked with some intention and diligence to make friends back in Connecticut while maintaining friendships from other places and seasons in life.

It occurs to me in this alone time how diligently God has worked (and continues to work) to develop a friendship with me. The signs of this reaching out are innumerable.

When I came to the cafe at St. Columba hotel where I now sit, the hostess asked if I'd like a table for one. I said yes, but that's not entirely true. Today, God is my lunch-date. And I hope for the rest of my days on this earth, God remains my most cherished friend.

Monday, September 21, 2015

Arrival

I made it, at last, to Iona - the pinnacle of my sabbatical -  and I am very glad to be here.
In the two days (less than 48 hours!) since I arrived to this beautiful, windy, mystical isle...
I heard a powerful sermon by John Bell lamenting and challenging the UK to let in more Syrian refugees, especially as this country contributed to the bombing of their homes and villages (text was Matthew 2 - Mary, Joseph, and Jesus taking refuge in Egypt when Herod threatened infanticide);
I have worshipped multiple times at the stately and historic Iona Abbey (which offers morning and evening prayer each day of the week);
I participated in a village drumming circle;
I ate a couple bowls of porridge and sipped many more cups of tea;
I met people from all over the world including my four roommates who are from Wales, England, Sweden, and Holland;
I have prayed - giving thanks to God for where I am and for my community who sent me here.

Deep peace of the running waves to you, dear ones!
I hope to share much more of my experience in days to come - as my soul catches up to my body.

Until then, I offer a couple glimpses of Iona...

View outside the Abbey during a brief respite from rain.

Pictured with roommates outside the Macloud Centre: Jan from Goucester, England; Anya from Holland; Charlotte from Sweden; and Jacqui from Wales.

Sunday, September 20, 2015

Crianlarich Rail Station

There are worse places to be stuck than the Crianlarich rail station, even if the toilet in the bronze-award winning bathroom is clogged and the other one is locked. The award, by the way, was for tidiness.

Murphy's law has governed the last couple days of travel: everything that could go wrong, has. But of course that is an exaggeration. After all, I am here, writing this blog: here both in the sense that I am alive and not dead and that I am here in this spot, sipping tea at the Crianlarich rail station. 

Crianlarich is part of the Trossachs National Park and this green, luscious region is easy on the eyes. Advertisements for Scotrail read in big, block letters: "BEAUTY, HISTORY, WILDLIFE for free with your rail ticket," referring to the views out the window. Mostly I see beauty and history unless sheep count as wildlife. Two out of three is not bad.

Yesterday, my 6-hour driving plan to go from Skye to Edinburgh was rerouted due to construction which put us back an hour and made it no longer plausible to check in at our hotel before returning the car. There were a few other mishaps such as being unable to find the check-in counter for my mom's airline (because it didn't exist, as it turns out) and being unable to find our hotel room because room 284 was actually on the first floor. In the big scheme, these are tiny matters and only impacted us due to weariness of travel.

But the good news is: I am here! And for both senses of that word, I am grateful. And my mom is successfully over the pond right now, making her way from London to Chicago, hopefully sleeping.  I am on my way to spend two weeks learning about worship and then the Gospels at Iona Abbey. 

I was content to spend the rest of the afternoon sipping tea at the station even if travelers around me grumbled about the delay and missed connections. A group of passengers were required to deboard the train midway from Glasgow to Oban due to the train being over-crowded. A rail service bus is expected any minute.

I thought I was perfectly content. But when someone came running into the tea room of the station, announcing, "the bus is here!" I heard my previously silent self respond with a loud: "Woohoo!"

And now my "here" is somewhere else... Near beautiful Ovan and closer to my destination of Iona, home of the 1450 year old Abbey founded by St. Columba.

Wherever your here [gentle reader] is in the moment, I hope you have reason to be glad for it. But when it's time to move on, I hope you, too, will let out a proper exclamation.


Tuesday, September 15, 2015

Sheep May Safely Graze

A favorite piece by JS Bach is Cantata No. 208: "Sheep May Safely Graze." The piece is pastoral and soothing, much like my current surroundings. After a bustling few days in colorful and lively Edinburgh, my mom and I are keen to find rest in a cozy thatched roof cottage in the quiet village of Elgol on the isle of Skye.

And, to add to help enforce the slowness of island life, we are surrounded by many wooly neighbors: sheep. More than a few "Hylen Coos" (Highland cows) are also safely grazing and resting this night. The Isle of Skye with its single lane road(s) and slowly roaming, mostly lying-down farm animals is an especially good place to learn to appreciate and practice down-time. I think my mom and I are excelling in it.
While out walking tonight, I noticed how adept some of these farm creatures are at climbing the steep hillside. One sheep in particular found an extra high perch in the corner of her pasture. I thought maybe she wanted a better view of the Cuillin mountains during her dinner. Or maybe she just wanted to stretch her legs and get a different perspective? 
I recognized that is one of the great gifts sabbatical is providing for me: a chance to roam in a slightly different field, stretch my legs, and gain a heightened perspective and awareness as to what God is up to in the world and in my life. 

All with the hope than when I return to my regular spot in the thick of the flock in the middle of field,  I will be more fully present to those in my care and those for whom and with whom I follow the Good Shepherd.

My neighbors in Elgol: On the top right, you can find one sheep roaming the furthest corner of her field.

It is a blessing and joy to share this part of my journey with my "mum" as they say. A highlight for us was cheering for the Chicago Bears in their season opener against the Packers while eating dinner at a pub in the small village of Callander (Scotland). I will save that funny story which involved the Bears playing on not one, but FOUR, giant flat screens for a future post.

Signs of God's promises reach across the pond! God's love is steadfast and His mercies are new each morning. This rainbow was spotted in Portree during our drive around the island today. 



Tuesday, September 8, 2015

The Blessed In Between

I have never been good at down time. Maybe this is because I skipped kindergarten and thus missed out on mandatory afternoon naps to recharge between activities.  Though God knows I wouldn't mind someone telling me to take a nap now.  As expressed during the iconography class last month, I am accustomed to quick transitions between happenings.  But with age comes insight.  Over time, I have learned to appreciate the wisdom of life being about the journey, not the destination.

The last ten days have provided a wonderful pause, a sabbatical in the midst of sabbatical.  There was a bit of down time between two big travel events: (1) the trip to Alaska + renewal in the Pacific Northwest and, coming up, (2) travel to Scotland with my mom + study at Iona Abbey.

I might have extended either trip except that I have family in Connecticut, and it was important to me to check in.  My CT family involves four-legged creatures - a cat and a dog -- who of course had no clue as to why or where I was off gallivanting to find renewal and pursue far-flung dreams

Besides getting to bond with my fur-babies, the in between allowed me to take care of practical matters like doing laundry, cleaning my house, paying bills, getting appropriate luggage for the next trip.  It also involved its own set of adventures with the canine.

Jack and I explored two different kinds of wilderness: hiking the Green Mountains of Vermont, followed by joining friends in New York to wander through Central Park and cheer for competitors in the U.S. Open.  True wilderness, followed by human wilderness!  And both were splendid.

The joy of the in between further attests to that which the onset of sabbatical hinted: one need not travel far from home to experience God in extraordinary ways through beauty and adventure.  Such experiences often lie waiting for us in our own backyard. It just takes an attitude adjustment and an adventurous spirit.  A canine companion helps, too.

That said, I am very excited for my trip to Scotland which begins tomorrow.  It has been ten years since I traveled overseas, and that is too long for this wanderlust.  My bags are packed, my bills are paid and this sojourner is ready to go, with thanks to God and the in between that helped me prepare for what lay ahead.



Jack was an enthusiastic and vigilant hiking buddy in peaceful Vermont. We stayed at Emerald Bay State Park and enjoyed day hikes near the park in Dorset, VT.


A few days later, we found ourselves in the wilderness of NYC where we stayed with friends Janet and Tom who live on the Upper East Side, on the corner of 3rd Ave and E. 63rd St.  We made a trip to Central Park every morning and sometimes more than once.