This morning, breakfast table conversation focused on our reaction to the people and things and events that surround us. Our reactions are too often focused on what we see on the surface and we will learn only a limited amount from what we see there. It takes a willingness to give an action, an event, or a person the time to grow into who or what is really being represented. Are the low number of people at an event perhaps just the right number of people after all. Would we have had the conversations we had or noticed the things we noticed if there had been more people? Would we get to know the real beauty of the gifts a person has to offer if we hadn't taken the time to be open to them? God asks us to be patient. He encourages us to not have the answers right away. He asks us to take time to let the stories unfold. Each layer is important and God will show us in His own time. These are lessons truly worth learning.
One of the experiences of living in community is the sharing of cooking responsibilities. This is, generally, not anything difficult for a woman to slide into. For a man like Don, however, who does not cook, certain challenges must be hurdled.
There is meal planning to be considered, creating a shopping list, shopping, working out timing on following a recipe, and fitting all of these activities into a potentially crowded day. Add to that that he is preparing food for three, not one, and you have one of the biggest challenges Don has ever undertaken.
I'm very proud of him. His first meal was quite ambitious. He made fried chicken (all skin carefully removed), mashed yams, corn and spinach. Below are a series of pictures of Don at work. And it bears repeating - I am very, very proud of him. And the meal was very tasty
Measuring out some salt
Staging area
The first batch is finished
Shake it up, baby.
In goes the second batch
Chef Don with his meal
His table
Everything plated up. Isn't it pretty?
Ready to eat.
And guess what. He's starting tonight's dinner now. Hamburger Helper and veggies. Warm and cozy for this very cold night.
This past week has been a lesson in patience. Don gets impatient with people. I, on the other hand, get impatient with situations. There is nothing like wrong directions, unanswered phone calls, and waiting in unnecessary lines to get my blood up.
Granted, wrongs directions and getting lost isn't really a great biggie anymore what with GPS and Navigators on our cell phones. However, these annoyances are still alive and well in my world when business names are wrong or the address fails to include the directional side of a street (you know - E. or W. 1st, for example) and you are sent off in the wrong direction. And don't even get me started about having a meet up time and the party on the other end of the meet-up isn't answering their phone and their mailbox is FULL. Yeah. Really. Just ask my friend, Marie.
Of course, there are also situations with lines. LIKE. School is getting out and you aren't there picking up a child and find yourself the second place of two lines of cars and you can't GET OUT. Now that is a situation. God give me patience. The whole week has been like that in fits and starts - situations demanding patience and flexibility.
This was the week when we would be working three 4-hour shifts at Mother's House but delays ensued as the snow and ice took over our lives. We still made progress and finished up all the work at home that would have otherwise been done at Mother's House and considering the coldness, no one would be outside with their children unless it was sheer necessity.
We have high hopes of going this week but with this new snow, I'm learning that parking lot ice may get layered on again. Or . . . the weather may warm up just enough to start the messy melting phase of snow and ice and promote the appearance of slush.
Of course, today being Saturday and all the work caught up, Don and I had plans to visit a couple of snow-covered cemeteries. Now, this may or may not happen. There was also visiting on the agenda. In small towns, I've discovered, visiting is still a fine art and we had arranged a visit with one of Don's childhood friends. Now it is a maybe or maybe not. We'll see.
So patience, and particularly situational, patience, has been my companion this week. The snow and ice will pass; the line of cars will move; the visiting and exploring will happen - just not in this moment. In this moment, I need to breathe and find the calm stillness. That is when God's whisper reaches me. He tells me to slow down; it's His time, not my time.
So - I leave you with these lines on patience and a reminder that if, you like me, need to slow down in anyway, just remember that patience does not come overnight to those who find it difficult to wait. Resting in God's will and perfect timing takes work but it's worth the effort. Peace descends and situations you think are designed to disrupt your flow are actually there to slow you down and take a moment.
Snow is pretty. Ice is not. Snow is fun. Ice is not. Snow makes you want to play. Ice makes you want to be very, very careful. So - that is exactly what Don and I were doing today when we drove over (carefully) to The Roundhouse for lunch. The Roundhouse is a popular eatery that has been in Caruthersville forever. I've been there five times, in 1980, 1985, 1993 (or 94), and twice since we arrived for our mission. It is one of those places where I feel very much at home. I feel like I really belong there; like I really know the place. For you Turlock readers, it's sort of like going to Latif's but Latif's on steroids. Anyway . . . We are carefully negotiating our way over the ice from the parking lot to the side walk. Don is holding on to me (because I am notorious for tripping). Ice is not friendly to anyone, let alone a klutz like me. So, we are being very careful. Don steadies me. Don turns around and . . . Don runs smack into the corner of a low hanging wooden awning (see extreme right of picture above). He knocked himself silly right on the bone over his eye and gave himself a nice little puncture. Man those little nicks can bleed a lot. I won't burden you with the bloody eye. In fact, good wife that I am, I was more concerned about getting him settled with a napkin and some ice rather than recording the moment. Yeah, I had my priorities right. Help. Aid. Fix. The waitress came to the rescue with a towel wrapped in ice as Don pressed a napkin against the wound. She followed that up with a tiny band-aid. God bless her. Below is the drama, step by step.
Click on me to make be bigger
So, while I've learned that snow and ice are to be respected at all times, it is always the unexpected moments that will get you. We were prepared for slipping but not for running into awnings. Moral of the story: While you are trying to be sure-footed, always keep an eye on what is going on around you.
We are two weeks into our mission in Caruthersville,
MO. Our first week was very much about
orientation to prayer life, living in community, and familiarizing ourselves
with the area. This was not difficult
for Don, but for me, it was a first in many ways. It’s one thing to “feel sympathy” for the
poor. It is quite another thing to
actually enter into the home of the poor.
I’ve met generous and hospitable people who welcome
you in and share what they have. I’ve
driven past hard times that you just won’t find in Turlock or Hughson, no
matter how hard you look. Everywhere we drove, there were tiny
community, perhaps just a few miles apart.
Each had a church, the community gathered around. A Baptist church here and a Methodist church
there, was not uncommon. Join this with
Presbyterian and Church of God and you pretty much have the big picture. These are hardworking people united by the
land, faith, and hospitality.
In Pemiscot County, Caruthersville is the county
seat. There is exactly ONE Catholic
Church in the county and it is, of course, in C’ville. Twenty-five miles down the road, in
Blytheville, Arkansas, is Immaculate Conception Church. North of us about 35 miles, and in another
county, is St. Eutachius Church in Portageville, MO. We also have the option of a noon Mass once a
week at Holy Angels Church in Dyersburg, TN.
These parishes are all no more than 30-40 minutes
away from us, so we have the blessing of being about to attend Mass multiple
times during the week. On Friday
evening, we drive to Arkansas for Mass and Adoration. Tuesday mornings and Thursday evenings may
find us in Portageville. Weekends and
Wednesday evenings are here in town.
We share a priest with Immaculate Conception Church
(yes, another IC) in New Madrid, MO.
Different county but same diocese.
The Immaculate Conception in Arkansas is a different diocese. Father
Jaroslaw Skrzypek (affectionately known as Fr. Yorick) is from
Poland. He offers Saturday evening and Sunday
morning Mass as well as returning here for Wednesday evening Mass. He is a hardworking priest who, in addition
to managing two parishes, also has a school to oversee in New Madrid. He is a much loved priest here and the
community is very grateful for his presence.
The temperatures here have ranged
from the (feel like) -3° - to a warm and balmy 43°.
We’ve had snow flurries but no snow (much to Don’s disappointment) and
it rained today (which was actually more like driving through a really dense
cloud). So,
of course, this week was also the week that we spent three days working and
serving at Mother’s House. Brrrr. All of your generous donations have been
sorted and hung or set aside for warmer weather. Don is working on house repairs at Mother’s
House, patching up entry ways to the various rooms and putting in weather
stripping around the doors. It’s a cute
little house but not at all snug.
Hopefully, by the time we leave, it will be safer and less drafty.
And so ends our first two weeks on
mission. Please pray for us and pray for
the many people here we are serving.
Not surprisingly, both Don and I have been doing a lot more reading and a lot more talking and a lot less of working on our own separate projects or watching TV. This quality use of our time has led us in a variety of individual and well as shared directions.
Lately, I've been thinking about friendship and the mistakes we make. I've also been thinking about right, wrong, and differences. This second one is what I will be writing about here, today.
Reading the story of Zacchaeus, the tax collector, made me think about compassion and sympathy. His story made me think about our differences and how we are judged and/or are challenged because of those differences. We are easily fearful of the things that make us different and unnecessarily so. As a consequence, it takes courage to walk through the other side of an unknown door and face what is there.
Because Zacchaeus was a tax collector, he was perceived as wrong and separate from the town's people. He was judged for what he did as his work but not on the things that he did in his life. He was neither right nor wrong. He was simply different. I hold my beliefs but rather than perceive others as wrong, if they don't share them, I simply accept that they are different. This acceptance will also influence how I choose to interact with them in my life.
I see this most pointedly in my own life from a political stand point. I'm a conservative, Christian Catholic woman and have also been a Tea Party Activist. I see more division than unity between people and I am reminded that following a political philosophy singlemindedly separates us as much from people as it does from Gad and what He wants for us.
This awareness reminds me of why I haven't joined in the prevailing right/wrong philosophy of some of the TP members I've met. I feel they may be using God rather than being used by God and I'm left feeling uncomfortable and wary. I've also seen this play out on the other side of the political spectrum too. Here it plays out as a detachment from God. The guiding force has more to do with man directed humanism than it does with Christ's message of mercy, love, and serving the individual in a way that benefits all most fully.
Serving takes courage. The courage comes in because we are called to make decisions or take actions based on what God wants of us, not what we will for ourselves. That is always a tricky line to stay on the right side of.
This morning, breakfast table conversation focused on our reaction to the people and things and events that surround us. Our reactions are too often focused on what we see on the surface and we will learn only a limited amount from what we see there. 
