Giving Thanks--Or Not

I'm going to admit it...

I was both over the moon excited about Thanksgiving and terrified about how it would go. In some ways I just wanted the whole thing to be over. The unknown...ugh!

It's been a really long time since we were all together, and a lot has changed. One of the things I have learned, and relearned, and relearned (it takes awhile) is when change happens--any change good or bad--relationships shift. Not only that, the speed at which they shift or don't shift differs between people. AND, where we each are within the change not only differs between people but can differ within ourselves on a daily or even hourly basis.

It's a lot like grief. We grieve in different ways and are at different places within our grief at different times. I guess, in some ways, change, even good change, is a type of grief. We get comfortable in our relationships even in the bad stuff. I mean, at least we know what to expect. But when we change--well you get the picture.

So I was stressed, and I don't handle stress well. I become quiet, withdrawn, extremely sensitive, completely in my head, and all in all panicked. And it's really fun for my husband when I try to pretend I'm not---like on the drive to Virginia two days ago.

As I was trying to talk myself off the proverbial ledge, my thoughts went to all the hard stuff from this year. And there was a TON. I'll be honest, I'm not over a lot of it. "I know God is present in all of the really hard and painful shit that happened this year to me and to others," I thought, "But knowing it and feeling it, and growing from it, and finding anything about it to give thanks about, is a LOOOOOONG time coming." I thought about 1 Thessalonians 5:16-18 (mainly because I had just written about it and not because I can just pull scripture from my head citing chapter and verse). “Rejoice always, pray without ceasing, give thanks in all circumstances; for this is the will of God in Christ Jesus for you.” I'm not there. I want to be, but I'm not. Oh in my head, I can list the ways I've grown, but to give thanks for it? No thank you. 

And then my thoughts went to others--to those I know and love, and to those I only know about. I thought about how social media will be full of posts with #grateful, #blessings, #thankful. I thought about how people will ask each other, "What are you thankful for this year?" And I suspected there would be many tables where people ask to go around and say what they're thankful for (and yes ours was one of those). My mind and heart went to those who will have a blank stare because I get it. 

Because it was a 4 1/2 hour drive I got to keep thinking....

I thought about those who are dreading going over the river and through the woods (do people still sing that) because of strained family relationships and I thought about those who could not longer go or had nowhere to go. 

As we rounded a curve and crossed the state line it occurred to me, it's all okay. It's okay to be thankful and it's okay to not be thankful. It's okay to be able to acknowledge how the hard times of life have given me and others the opportunity for growth and new relationships. And it's okay to not be there. 

Before Jesus ascended he promised the disciples "And remember, I am with you always, to the end of the age." (Matthew 28:20) I can't be thankful for everything that has happened this year. I'm not ready to find "the good" or "what I've learned" in some of it. I also don't know if I ever will be. But I know with all my heart God is present in and through it all. I can give thanks for that. 

We, I, Learned from the Best

Today we celebrate the life of Mrs. Hardwick who tried over the years to get me to call her Laurie, but I can't. But we also celebrate the resurrection because we know because Christ came and died and rose again death has been defeated and that there is nothing that can separate us from the love of God.

But I think the most powerful verse in the Bible is “Jesus wept” because I think that reminds us that because God came in the flesh, God understands every emotion that we have. He stood at the grave of his friend.  He stood with Lazarus's sisters in their anguish and their grief. He felt their agony and their pain, and he was angry, and he hurt.  As you begin this new normal, I believe God is telling us that all these emotions we are feeling are OK.

As I was thinking about speaking today, I remember being in Mrs. Hardwick’s kitchen in the eighth grade and something had happened. A trip was cancelled, and I had been made to feel a little guilty for being upset.  Mrs. Hardwick said, “Katherine, there is nothing wrong with being disappointed and sad. There is no shame at all in how you feel.”  

And so today is a celebration of the resurrection but I really because it’s Mrs. Hardwick, it's as much about the incarnation, Christ coming in the flesh and asking us all to be his hands and feet as we lead our lives of discipleship.

When we read or pray the Lord's prayer and say, “Thy kingdom come, thy will be done, on earth as it is in heaven” I think Mrs. Hardwick lived that—every day.  It wasn’t about waiting for what would happen in heaven after death and for eternity. It was about bringing that here and now to all of us that she touched. She was loving and kind. I’m an Episcopal priest, and some of y’all may know there’s a famous Episcopal priest who preached at a famous wedding.  He talks about God all the time, he’s a much better preacher than I am, and he talks about God and God is love and God loves everybody no exceptions.  God is forgiving and merciful and kind and doesn't seek to denigrate or to shame. And that’s how Mrs. Hardwick was. And my heaven was in her kitchen, growing up.

 I remember one day a neighbor came in and as you walked in the back door there's a little half bath. And Mrs. Hardwick took this young lady, who was our age, into the half bath and they had a conversation and they came out and they joined us at the counter.  Later, because I’m kind of nosey, I asked, “Mrs. Hardwick, what did you tell her?” She said, “That’s between us; it doesn't matter. All is forgiven.z’

She was there with kindness and words leaning against the counter as we droned on  endlessly about whatever it was.

Now just in case you’re beginning to think she might be God, I think there were times that she got really irritated and bored. And I think she really liked when that phone rang and one of the rental properties needed to be looked at. And she would say, “Girls why don't you go with your father. He’ll stop at Dairy Queen on the way home.” If it were the 21st-century I would swear she had texted the tenants to say, “Please call them.”

 I have four of my own children who are young adults. Tthey asked me quite frequently, in fact just a couple days ago I was FaceTiming with my youngest whose in college, and some boys came behind her and started talking to me. She said again, as they often say, “I just understand why people like you.” They’ve said, “We don't understand why people want to come to our house. It’s soooo boring.” So that's just an invitation to any young adults. If you really want to come somewhere and be really bored, you're welcome to come to our house. But two days ago when Caroline said that to me with the boys in the background waving. I said, “Because I learned from Mrs. Hardwick.”

You're beginning a journey and it's not an easy one. Thank you for sharing your wife and your mother with us. I know there were times you wanted her for yourself. I know there were times it was inconvenient. But my life has been changed. Thank you. But as you being this time, let us love you, support you, welcome you, even when it’s inconvenient, because it never will be because we learned from the best.

Snug Hollow--Always What I Need

"You meet the people you need to meet when you visit Snug Hollow." That's what I always tell people....

2019 has not been the best year--knee replacement, multiple deaths of far too young people, family issues, pastoral needs of which I feel ill equipped to handle, and then this past few weeks 5 deaths in 7 days--my grief was beginning to overtake me. I knew I needed to get away and process, and I knew where I needed to go.

Snug Hollow

I started going to Snug Hollow in the late summer of 2016 and knew almost instantaneously I had found a spiritual home. Important Background Information This background information is important but not totally honest. I was in a much darker place that first time...

When I first went to Snug Hollow in August of 2016 I had no idea what was going to happen to me, to my marriage or to our family. I was priest in charge of a wonderful parish--a call I never believed I would take or that I was capable of taking. I was helping to keep the Diocesan Youth program together--a call I never believed I would take and almost 100% sure it was a call I shouldn't take. I didn't believe I had anything to offer the youth of our Diocese or anywhere. I could feel cracks beginning in our family unit--some normal and appropriate for the children's ages and some brought on by pain. Chris and I weren't fighting, but we also weren't connecting. I had no idea what the future held or even what I wanted it to hold.

I left those few days feeling better about our marriage than I had in a long time---and boy knowing now what I didn't know then--that is a really good thing. (As I said, the people you need to show up show up at Snug Hollow--that amazing couple.)

The truth is, despite how difficult these past few months have been, I felt stronger or at least more confident in what I needed to do to feel stronger, so off to Snug Hollow we went.

Monday we decided to go hiking. I should have known this wasn't going to be a Sunday stroll when Barbara, the owner of Snug Hollow, wrote on the map "The Pinnacles." We entered the woods and within 20 yards the climb began.

It was not a gentle uphill but rather periods of steep, needing to hold onto a branch (should have taken one of those walking sticks they offered at the beginning) uphill that was then followed by very brief (think feet not yards) of flat and then more uphill. But all along the way, when we stopped for a breath and looked around, there was so much beauty. The path was steep and rocky and seemingly never ending. We had never been on this path before so really had no idea when we would reach the top. I thought about the last 3 1/2 years and this hike pretty much summed it up.

There have been times of difficult and steep, hold onto each other, our faith and our community periods, with a few short lived times of coasting. Yet in the midst of the journey there have been beautiful breath taking times. Times we wouldn't trade for all the pain and sorrow and grief. Yes we have lost some friends, but we have gained a treasure trove of authentic, life giving, friends.  We have had times we didn't know if we could go on only to be surrounded by the beauty of the world--beauty found in our vocations, in our families and friends, and in each other.

We reached the top, and after marveling at the beauty and basking in our success, we began the descent down. It was harder than the up.

First, sometimes we would start going so fast we would slip, or one of us started going faster than the other and we were separated. It reminded me that in the good times it's easy to get careless, to forget to take your time, enjoy the journey, and stay connected. It taught me that sometimes what we think are the hardest parts of life are not.

As we were trying to find a new hike down, I saw what I thought was the path. It was straight down and rocky. My adrenaline started flowing. I scampered down saying, "Let's do this!" Chris responded, "I really don't think this is the path. And getting back up if it's not is not going to be easy." "It is! It is!" I excitedly said already starting down.

I had gone a 10 or so yards when I began to wonder if he was right. "Wait there," I said, "I'll look around this bend, but this is totally awesome!" (I was pretending I was way more sure of myself than I was.) Chris waited, ready to follow me or to rescue me. I looked around the bend, and sure enough there was no path only a dead end into the rocks. I sheepishly turned around and said, "You were right." and begin the ascent.

As I climbed up, really hoping I could do it, I thought about August 2016 and how I worried about our marriage. "Well butter my butt and call me a biscuit" I thought, "Why did I ever worry? This--this right here. This is us." I am headstrong and impulsive; I get overly excited and don't always think things through. I take off expecting Chris to follow without his agreement. And Chris, Chris lets me be who I am even as he shakes his head and laughs--and sometimes doesn't follow but rather waits for me to understand it on my own. He is daring, adventurous and bold, but he is also methodical and solid and steady. He believes in me. And I believe in him. We are a team. As I neared the top I said, "You didn't think I could do it." "I knew you could do it." he replied, believing in me just like he always does.

I left Snug Hollow today trusting that whether we are still on the uphill climb or whether we are on the plateau or even heading down, we are solid and we are together. I left giving thanks to God for teaching me, guiding me, and reminding me. And I left giving thanks for Barbara and Snug Hollow because it truly is a place where you find what you're looking for even if you don't know what that is.

I left feeling lighter and more grounded and ready for whatever came next.

I Always Listen To My Sister

Hey y'all; I'm Katherine, and I'm a chronic social media post-er. Not only that, sometimes I post things that others consider over-the-top, too much, or even inappropriate. 

But I'm not going to stop. And I'm not going to apologize for it.

Several months ago I had an all too infrequent, but definitely life giving and soul satisfying visit with my sister. As we always do, we talked, we laughed, we shared--for 48 hours we were not only daughters, wives, mothers, a priest, and a guidance counselor. We were those things, but also for those 48 hours we were once again "the Kanto Girls".

Now you've got to know--I am the younger sister (it might only be 18 months, but don't ruin a good story with irrelevant details) and as the younger sister I ALWAYS listen to my sister.

We were actually having a serious conversation about social media and the negative impact it can have on people particularly youth. We both have a heart for youth. We were talking about how inauthentic and fake it can be and how it can make people feel they are not enough. Meredith looked over at me and said with her wicked grin, "But not you. You just put it out there. I can't believe some of the pictures of yourself you post or the things you say. But I love it, and others do too. You give us permission to be real."  (For the record, her husband loves to make fun of me about my postings, and I'm mostly okay with that.)

I know for some people it can be too much. I know there are people who laugh at me and make fun of me to others. I know there are people it possibly offends, for that I am sorry. I also know there are people who have been encouraged, have been uplifted, have been given "permission" to be authentic, have been given "permission" to not be perfect, and have reached out to me for sometimes difficult and authentic and real conversations. And I firmly believe, for better or worse, it is a part of my call to ministry.

Several days ago I was having a conversation with another person whose opinion and wisdom I highly value and whose advice I try to follow. It was a slightly different conversation which I may or may not at some point share, but it boiled down to this. I have to make a choice not about who I am, but about how I present to the world. I am goofy and loud, over the top and self deprecating, but I am also (and you won't hear/read me say this often) intelligent and intuitive, and dare I say it, wise. I feel deeply--both my own feelings and the feelings of others. I don't take myself too seriously, but I take others and their lives and their vulnerabilities they share with me very seriously. And for some ridiculous reason, often the world doesn't seem to think those qualities can all be a part of the same person. And sometimes that is really hard for me, and it hurts when people overlook those parts of me. I'll just say it (because my sister told me to always be authentic and I always listen to my sister), typically those are the more "serious" parts.

But here's the thing--I have spent a lot of years, a lot of prayer, a lot of journaling, and a lot of therapy getting to a point where I'm okay with who I am and with whom God created me to be. It's not 100% of the time, but it's more than 75. Part of getting okay with who I am is embracing who God is calling me to be, and I believe that is to be open and honest and vulnerable and accessible to others.

I guess I could hold back; I could become more reserved and more serious which would probably have others take me more seriously. But I'm not going to.

I'm not going to because if my being out there, over the top, and wide open allows one person to feel okay, then I am answering God's call. If my being silly and vulnerable opens even one conversation that allows someone to feel God's unconditional love and acceptance, to feel they are enough just as they are, then I am answering God's call.

I choose to answer God's call, which my sister reminded me to do, and I always listen to my sister.