Reclaiming Spring

“For each age is a dream that is dying, or one that is coming to birth.”

Of all the seasons we are so fortunate to observe, autumn has always been and still is my favorite. As the waning days of summer close, autumn marks a change of pace as I acquiesce to the sometimes graceful and sometimes sudden passage of time. Brilliant displays of color paint the landscape and sky, disguising the encroaching darkness that will soon redefine my way and way of being. As in life…Especially the last several years that brought so much change to my perspective on life. Where there was more dying than living. A life that was (and is) both full and fleeting, beautiful and painful.

There is a quiet, if not hidden, beauty in the dying that takes place – in this season and in life. Author, Parker Palmer, eloquently describes the grace of this truth: “The hopeful notion that new life is hidden in dying is surely reinforced by the visual glories of autumn. (Indeed,) what artist would paint a deathbed scene with the vibrant and vital palette nature uses?”

We often associate the radiance of springtime with the beginning of life. We celebrate the emergence of tender shoots and sprigs of green from the cold, barren, snow-covered earth; beginning a cycle that winds slowly down to the rustle of dying leaves that have fallen back to earth. But something first had to die – come to an end – so that a newer life, fed and strengthened by whatever has been lost, could come alive in its place. It is in the radiant dying of autumn and the barren sleep of winter, that the seeds for the new life born in spring and lived in summer, are first imagined.

Resurrection can only come through death. Fr. Richard Rohr describes this passageway to new life: “Jesus willingly died—and Christ arose—yes, still Jesus, but now including and revealing everything else in its full purpose and glory.” It is in the dyings of life when our full humanity comes to life.

Life is born through death. We experience these dyings more often than we – at least on the surface – realize. Ideas, plans, and philosophies die back to engender new ones. When we graduate high school and college that season of life dies as we enter the next stage of life in adulthood. When relationships begin and end, when we marry, when we have children, when we leave a job or a neighborhood, when we begin a new endeavor or pursue a different direction, a part of us dies. Must die. Must end. You can choose to view the dyings and painful endings in life as passages to anger, blame, hatred, depression, and resentment, or you can choose to let them be passages to something new, something wider, something deeper. With each of these dyings, we are given the opportunity for new life; they allow us to let go and lead us to discover new directions, new purposes. With every ending, we are given a passageway to something more – seeds for new life

But new life has to be claimed and nurtured. Without water – the spring green grass withers and goes to weed, the budding trees fail to thrive. Without encouragement and tending – gardens won’t yield a crop. Without nurture, calves and fawns, ducklings and goslings die.

After a far too lengthy season of winter, I am reclaiming spring for my life. A new hip does wonders!  Free of chronic pain that at times made me wish for death and clouded every aspect of my spirit – I am once again anticipating opportunities for growth and waking up each day with hope. But freedom from pain also means I must let go of my painful way of being. When pain was my constant companion anyway, I let the painful parts of life – deaths, breakups, failures, uncertainty – make a home in me where anger, blame, depression, and resentment flourished.

With renewed strength and hope – I’ve been clearing my inner landscape of the wintry darkness that claimed so much of me. It is hard work – humbling work. But as I breathe in the dewy fragrance of the spring morning and let the sun shine in, the more I realize that life is not diminished by darkness or death. It is made more organic, more wholehearted, more resilient and resplendent.

If you think about it, everything alive in the world and in us is made up of things that have passed before us, gone about the business of dying and living.  That’s much more hopeful than the idea that life, the moment it appears, begins winding its way inescapably toward death.

The endless interplay of darkness and light, the dying and rising, the endings and beginnings, the autumns and springs of life remind me that everything is forever being made new. And new life is a wonderful season to embrace.

Oh God of Life and Creation, You give life and breath to all things. As Spring takes hold in our spirits, as the snow melts, bulbs bloom, trees blossom, and the rivers run high and fast – it’s as if we have come alive once again to sing praises to you. During this season of transition, we recognize that some things must pass away, step aside, move on, let go – to make way for new life. As the school year comes to an end, as chapters close in our lives, as we grow older each day, as we learn to let go – guide us through these times of transition with Your sustaining love and Spirit of peace. Amen

Let your light so shine!

On this Easter Night

Easter is by far my favorite day of the year. Jesus Christ is Risen today – how could it not be? It is the one day I don’t hit the snooze button at least once – but rather bound out of bed anticipating the SON rise! But after the rush to church (and I do mean rush as sometimes I get carried away with my “son-gazing” ) festal worship services, rejoicing and congregating with friends and family in the light of the Resurrection – I’m finding the quiet of this Easter night every bit as meaningful. For now, in this quiet at the end of the day, it’s just me – and my Lord- sorting out what all this means.

Will I live my life any differently tomorrow knowing that eternal life is for me now, that freedom is mine right now, that incomparable love is mine now, that belonging is mine now, that forgiveness is mine now – just as I am – AND that I can share all this with anyone and everyone I encounter – in my current capacity – just as I am?

Or will I fall back into the ways of this hard and weary world?

It’s a question which continuously begs to be answered – one I am faced with every morning. I wish that I could say I live every day in a manner that exudes confidence that I know My Redeemer lives – and that I for certain know what that means. But I don’t.

No, again and again I see the Light and still choose darkness, I know the Truth and still choose mine, I know the Way – but still wander aimlessly in circles.

Despite all this, tonight, I am at peace, I can rest, knowing that nothing can separate me from the love of God – not even me.

May it be so with you too.

May you carry Easter’s truth and light with you in all your ways and all your days.

Christ is Risen indeed!!

The Gift of Sadness

“Were it possible for us to see further than our knowledge reaches, and yet a little way beyond the outworks of our divining, perhaps we would endure our sadnesses with greater confidence than our joys. For they are the moments when something new has entered into us, something unknown; our feelings grow mute in shy perplexity, everything in us withdraws, a stillness comes, and the new, which no one knows, stands in the midst of it and is silent.”

– Rainer Maria Rilke

I have certainly endured my share of sadness in the last 6 years – but – as Rilke so exquisitely writes – in those same moments – something new was taking form within me. Who I am now was watered by my tears. On my journey, I became strong. I have grown into life with a greater certainty of my God and who I am. And oh what joy this brings.

Let your light so shine!

Accepting God’s Blessings

“Exercise is a CELEBRATION of what your body can do, not a PUNISHMENT for what you ate.”


It has been a life-long journey for me to arrive at this life-saving epiphany. And yes, I do mean life-saving. You CAN exercise yourself to death – I am living proof of that – by a sheer miracle and the grace of a God whose purpose for me had yet to be realized.

But even nearly dying couldn’t shake this mindset from me. It is a hard habit to break. It took 25 years after “death” came knocking the first time for me to truly embrace this concept.

As someone whose sense of self was, for the longest time, based on the approval of others, I never felt worthy enough or deserving enough – even at one point – for food. Proving myself through exercise – the one thing I knew I excelled at – became my measure. Miles ran, calories burned, sit-ups slammed, squats burned out – I counted everything – because in my eyes – I didn’t count.

Living like this is not living. Living like this is akin to dying to life – every single day. It left me with a broken body and an empty core.

I continue to see my hip replacement much like Jacob’s wrestling with God during his longest night. Jacob’s life was one of never-ending struggles, fears and anxiety that led him away from God. When he came to a point where he could struggle no-longer he met his greatest challenge yet – God’s blessing.

In all my “faithfulness” – I have struggled – endlessly – to be who God wants me to be – to earn the ultimate approval. But here’s the thing – we can never earn God’s approval – we can only accept it as a true gift.

And it is a true gift – what my body can do today – and who I am as a child of God. How much fuller life is when I celebrate who I am and what I have accomplished with Him than when I wrestle over who I am not and what I have failed to do without Him – always looking for approval from a world that most likely sees me very differently than I see myself.

Accepting God’s blessing is the hardest most freeing thing I have done. It has changed my life, how I live it, and how I share life with others.

Let your light so shine!

Oh, What a Year – 2022

“People cannot discover new lands until they have the courage to lose sight of the shore.” – Andre’ Gide

In the waning hours of 2021, I could not have fathomed what awaited me in the year to come. I was so caught up in myself and giving my life over to pain that I could not see much past tomorrow. I could not imagine that the words of a stranger but fellow sufferer would bolster me on a journey that would change my life and change my way of being in the world.

“Right now, your pain has no purpose and will only get worse.

After surgery, your pain will have purpose and you’ll only get better.” 

Those words were shared with me in a Facebook support group by a fellow runner and now fellow hippie-sis just a few days before I became bionic and was having second thoughts and way too much fear for the seeming unknown.

While her words were meant to encourage me as I faced down total hip replacement surgery – they rang true for the place in life I had been residing since my annulment and the back-to-back deaths of my parents. For 6 years I had been living in physical pain – popping enough Advil to earn me a blood transfusion but it was my mental anguish that kept me running – running through life and running away from life. I was lost; I was heartbroken; and I had failed in life – in a spectacular way. I couldn’t face myself because I didn’t know who I was anymore -beyond the pain and beyond my failures.

As 2022 dawned I was resigned to more of the same until one day in February I could not walk. My right hip had had enough of me pushing through. I went to my physical therapist who worked me over and got me walking again but something inside me knew this was a turning point. When I finally got in to see an orthopedist and heard the words “never run again and hip replacement” and left with a prescription for Oxycodone (which I never filled) I felt like the earth had stopped but I was still spinning away.

I spent a few weeks on the DeNile River in the Land of Woe but it got me nowhere. My pain – physical and mental- served no purpose and the longer I let it control my life it would only get worse.

It was then that I started to catch glimpses of my former self – the one who could do hard things – who had lived through hard things before – even faced down death. The fighter who smiled and laughed and knew joy and had purpose. Where had she gone?

I decided to find her and embarked on what would be a significant year-long transformation.

With a surgery date on the calendar – I began a training regimen with my physical therapist. I was determined to go into the surgery strong so I would come out strong. This gave me purpose. I am a determined woman. Occasionally my determination is mis-guided – but not this time. I succeeded!

As my strength came back, I was determined to find – not my former self again – but who she became and can still be.

It was hell.

Thank goodness part of my recovery plan was walking because I took a lot of long soul-searching walks and spent time doing some serious internal excavation – digging up long rooted and now rotted ideas of myself and replacing them with good soil in which healthier ideas and ways of being can grow.

We don’t always end up where we intended in life. Long before reaching our final destination, life happens, and we are forced to change course. My naive college vision board at 18 and the “seasoned” 26-year-old me’s long-range plans seem foreign to me now. I’ve always admired those who had a dream at a young age, made it happen and then kept realizing it and living it. In truth, that happens to only a very lucky few.

A BBC article discussing the topic of identity says that some people “struggle to imagine their future self as a continuation of the person they are today… It’s almost as if they see their future self as a separate person that has little connection to their present identity.”

While I struggle with seeing my future life as a continuation of today or seeing it at all for that matter –given how this year unfolded – I don’t see that as a negative thing and I certainly don’t envision myself being a stranger to who I am today. On the contrary, it is because my future seems – at least right now – “unrevealed” – that gives me hope and something to look forward to discovering!

But creating a vision for the second half of life is not as easy as it would seem.

The questions of “Who am I” “What do I want to be when I grow up?”, and “How am I going to get there?”  have leveled up a critical notch to Who have I become?” and “What have I done with my life?’ and “What do I do now?”

When the future was a long way away, the answers seemed so easy. Heck, we could be anything we wanted anywhere we wanted (for the most part.) Dream away! But when we have less of a future ahead of us than we have behind us, there is far more at stake – or so we tell ourselves. Having lost a dear friend to cancer this year – who had so much life ahead of her and had lived her life so fully – really made me stop and think about those questions again.

“Who have I become?” “What have I done with my life?’ “What do I do now?”

But here’s the thing that brings me so much joy on the cusp of a new year. I am actually excited by these questions again!!

That I have been given the opportunity to make a course correction and say yes to life is positively thrilling and a bit daunting.

As I close this annual tradition of reflection and evaluation of where life has brought me and who and how I want to be, I am grateful for those purposeful words of encouragement that helped me accept the challenge before me, make the most of.it and emerge better for it!

I am grateful for the doctors who made my walking, hiking and yes even running again possible. I am grateful for my family and dear friends who walked with me in every sense of the word.

As this “unfathomable year” draws to a close I can honestly say I am so much better because of it! I feel wonderful, healthy, and strong. I feel like Erika again!

I am at peace with life – my life. That is so freeing!

I am finding awe in the present and joy in sharing life with others, in place of pain, regret, and darkness – my old friends. .

Having said that, I am so thankful for the journey that has brought me here today – to who I am! In the journey, I became strong.

There is much to look forward to. What that is – who knows? But I am ready to meet tomorrow with open arms, a smile, a skip in my step, and a warm embrace.

“People cannot discover new lands until they have the courage to lose sight of the shore.” – Andre’ Gide

Happy New Year!!!

Let your light so shine!!!

The Worst That Can Happen…

This past weekend was one I could not have dreamed up had I earnestly put the effort into doing so. Far from the three days of Indian Summer bliss I had intended, it was one that my wisdom-dishing father would have quipped “built character” instead.

For the record, I learned never to utter the words, “What’s the worst that can happen” again!! Should I ever start to spew those fateful words again – please wash my mouth out with bitter lye soap!

Let’s start at the beginning.

On Friday afternoon, I received my much-anticipated bright shiny new camera that also calls people (!!) (whose delivery in itself, was a hostage situation worthy of a write up – but I digress…) I was thrilled it arrived in time for my hike on Saturday – quite possibly that last of the non-snow season. There is nothing like a fancy new camera for those fantastic fall photos – eh? I was up quite late Friday night rushing through the phone transfer and activation process. I admit to getting a bit flustered at times as I am not tech-savvy but it appeared to be a success and I went to bed confident I was ready to go for my 4 a.m. wake-up call.  Aside from user error multiple times, the phone/camera worked great on the trail – or so I thought.

Upon returning home Saturday night from my frolic in the mountains, I had received an email from the carrier saying I needed to complete my phone activation – which seemed odd since I had already called and texted with it – but I went ahead and followed the steps…. BIG MISTAKE!!  My cell connectivity shut down immediately – and of course I had already factory reset and shut down my old phone. Relying on the carrier’s online chat until 10:45 pm, I attempted to resolve the matter. Unfortunately, the rep – who desperately wanted to secure a sale of a whole-home tech warranty – after my fourth politely typed and appropriately emoji-ed refusal – finally said he couldn’t help me and I would have to speak with a higher tier support team.

I protested! ” I have no phone – which is why I have been chatting with you for the last 90 minutes!!” ” Oh well, then you will have to go to a dealer to assist you…”

Defeated and exhausted after an 18-hour day, I went to bed saying, okay what’s the worst that can happen? I’ll go to the dealer tomorrow and get it fixed. (Remember – I am soloing it in this great big world – it’s just me and Ember with no one to come to our aid if something happens)

Now the rest of the story… AKA -The Worst That Can Happen!

Ember and I headed out bright and early for our walk Sunday morning and all was right in our unconnected world.  We took our usual route through the neighborhood and down by the river – hoping to catch the sun as it peaked over the mountain.

Our neighborhood is “blessed” to have a drug/dump house. This one takes the prize in my book -years ago a giant tree fell and partially collapsed the roof, the front yard serves as the trash bin- food refuse covers the entire lawn, and 4 dilapidated vehicles spew garbage as well. Walking by, one can almost get high just from inhaling the pot-laced air.  When I first moved to the area, I naively felt compassion for the poor souls that inhabited the place – 5 years on – not so much.

It was at this exact spot that Ember snatched something off the ground and swallowed before I could pry his mouth open.  He is amazingly quick when he smells something interesting. Even faster when it is something to eat!  Naively, I gave him a good scolding and we continued on our way. It was a beautiful morning after all!

When we got home, I gave him his good boy treat and he happily went out to chase leaves as they fell, flush a few birds, and generally frolic in the back yard.  This was about an hour since the street-snatching. 10 minutes later he was at the door but instead of being right at the door as usual, he was standing off the steps on the patio- swaying. He tried to walk up the steps and his back legs went out from under him. He was able to recenter and tried to walk again but tripped over his front legs. I got him to his bed and he laid down right away putting his head in my lap. I petted him for a while and then got up – he tried to follow me but stumbled and swayed again. I reached out for him and he flinched away – his eyes were glassy and he looked perplexed and worse – frightened.

That was it, I went to call the emergency vet… no phone…

I quickly put on my shoes and as I was doing so Ember started to get frantically wild – jumping off and on the footstool before collapsing on the floor.

I carried Ember out to my Santa Fe and drove the 20 minutes to the Emergency Vet I had taken him to before only to find it was closed.  I kept driving thinking I had seen another emergency vet closer to Kalispell the next town over – I found it, pulled in and lifted a listless Ember out of my car.  As I carried him to the door, I was met by a vet tech who told me they only took patients whose owner had called ahead!!!!

Exasperated – I told her I couldn’t call ahead – I had no phone!!! She looked puzzled for a moment then went inside and came back out – took Ember from my arms and said they would see him.

After filling out paperwork authorizing tests and answering the questions about CPR /DNR and did I want treatment for Ember at any cost – of course!! – she left me to sob in the patient room.

I reflected that when I recently established by Living Will, I declined heroic lifesaving efforts! It’s a very different thought pattern when the lifesaving event is happening… and it’s my dog instead of me.

An hour later a very kind veterinarian came in – he asked me if Ember might have gotten into something – I told him Ember was always into things! He replied, “I ask because he tested positive for THC poisoning. WEED!!!!”

Ember – of all dogs!!!

Ember would need to be treated with IV fluids and activated charcoal and monitored overnight.

I could not go back and see him so I reluctantly left and headed to the cellphone dealer to get help with my phone. They close at 4 pm. It was 2:45 pm and the store’s floor manager greeted me by asking if I had an appointment as there were already 5 people ahead of me. Responding with a no, she said I could wait but I would likely have to return the next day.

Exasperated again I told her, while indicating my wretched no-coffee-or-breakfast-or-shower-appearance, that my dog was at the Emergency Vet and I had to have a way for them to contact me and my brand-new phone was not working!!  She looked at me far longer than I felt necessary then replied “I think we can cut you in.”

Thankfully, it was a fairly easy fix- at least for them.  The friendly down-to-business rep discovered my SIM card was corrupted and he was able to fix it before the next appointment showed up.

I went home and waited for my phone to ring with news on Ember.

After having breakfast for dinner, exhausted and feeling blessedly broke (Emergency Vet – $950.00) and blessed in my brokenness by those who sensed my distress, had compassion, bent the rules and let me in not once but twice in one day – I called it a night.

Monday morning, the same kind vet called and reported that Ember had a remarkable improvement overnight and I could bring him home.

The drive to the clinic seemed every bit as long as it was when I was in emergency mode. It sounded so downright wonderful to hear Ember’s frantic and happy paws scampering down the hall of the Flathead Pet Emergency Clinic compared to the limp and listless boy I carried in on Sunday.

Now as I write, Ember has fully recovered and is loving life again.

Happy endings are the best, and this one – while building character – also magnifies the love I have for my sweet boy, Ember and the gratitude I have for the angels I met along the way.

Keep letting your light so shine, Ember!!!

The Vast Eternity of Now’s Uncertainty

I lift up my eyes to the hills- from where will my help come?

So begins the Song of Ascents, Psalm 121, and a question that may be familiar to you – or not. Surely, you have looked to the horizon in search of answers at some point in your life.

I have been asked to include this Psalm in funeral services I have presided over and people of the Jewish and Christian faith often read it at the beginning of a variety of journeys – as a form of assurance in the face of uncertainty, grief, longing, and anxiety that come on the road of life. It is often found framed in the delivery rooms of Jewish hospitals where newborns begin the daunting journey of life. In times of economic and political instability when we all want to make a run for the hills – perhaps it would suit us better to take a deep breath and dwell on these words.

From my dining room window, I can lift my eyes upon Columbia Mountain and gaze for hours and ask that very question- ‘From where will my help come?”

Just four short months ago I was doing just that – along with the questions: Just how long is it going to be; what is going to happen to me; what if this isn’t the right choice? What if things don’t go as planned? What if something goes wrong? What if I am not as strong as I need to be? What if I am not who I think I am? What if You, God, are not who I believe you are? Yes, even THAT question!

At the time, I was preparing for a significant “life-event” you might call it. Total Hip Replacement. Just saying the words seemed so unreal. I was too young for that sort of thing! I didn’t have room in my life for that kind of disruption! While I was thankful I could prepare for the surgery rather than have it suddenly forced upon me, the whole process raised significant questions, unsettledness, and apprehension within me. For someone who boldly professed her conviction in the things unseen and her hope for things to come – the state of unknowingness I found myself in had me completely untethered.  My life felt suspended and I wondered if I would ever feel grounded again. Uncertainty reigned within me – me, the consummate control freak.

What if the things to come are not what I intended? (As if we have any control over that!) What if my choice was wrong? What if this changed me – what if I changed – CHANGED (gasp!!) forever?

Such questions are natural — whether one is contemplating a geographic journey through dangerous territory, a journey through the many ups and downs of a lifetime, or a spiritual journey seeking one’s true self and/or a reunion with God.

It’s dangerous out there – outside of our well protected selves. It can be dangerous within our overly protected selves too!  Disease, injury, accidents, war, or illness threaten our bodies. Natural disasters, recessions, depressions, unemployment, outsourcing, downsizing, insolvency, debt, and theft rock our foundations. Doubt, sin, evil, corruption, fundamentalism, extremism, and outright untruths vie for our allegiance.

The big what ifs that accompany so much of life – what do we do with questions like that? What do we do amid the vast eternity of now’s uncertainty???

The rest of the Psalm provides the answer – if we are so inclined not to just listen but also hear.

I lift up my eyes to the hills— from where will my help come?

My help comes from the Lord, who made heaven and earth.

Not from escaping to the mountains and hiking away my troubles and anxieties as I so frequently do. In the weeks following my surgery – weeks that seemed like eons – I could only dream of hiking in the hills, forests and mountains again – but I rested in the arms of their Creator and help did come. The metaphoric mountains of life by their very existence bear witness to the hand of our Creator. It is often in the steepest of climbs and darkest of valleys – our most challenging times – that we grasp for a higher power and His existence is revealed.

He will not let your foot be moved; he who keeps you will not slumber.

He who keeps Israel will neither slumber nor sleep.

The Lord is your keeper; the Lord is your shade at your right hand.

As I slowly gained my freedom I was met with new anxieties – what if I fall, will my strength ever come back, will I ever sleep again? I stumbled and I fell – figuratively and literally. As my life began to return to “normal,” I found myself repeating old habits that I had eschewed in light of my diagnosis and prescribed remedy. But I was able to overcome them and step forward in new directions. Revealing again that God is a keeper. God protects, shields, watches over, guards, and keeps like a Watchman keeping guard over a city or a bird shielding its young in the shelter of Her wings.

God kept watch over me when I wasn’t watching out for myself. I remember one evening midway through my recovery when I realized I had pushed my limits too far and walked much further than I should have. I was starting to panic as my legs got weak and I was 2.5 miles from home. Of course, I would not call for help – but as if on cue to my prayers of consternation – a friend pulled up beside me on the road and said “Hey there – you look a little tired. Want a ride?“

The sun shall not strike you by day, nor the moon by night.

The Lord will keep you from all evil; he will keep your life.

The Lord will keep your going out and your coming in from this time on and forevermore.

These words of promise by no means imply that those who walk in the shelter of God will not face harm or that nothing ill will come their way. On the contrary, the writer knows all too well the nature of this world we live in is not for the faint of heart – that we will meet with opposition and evil – not at every turn – but enough for us to grow weary and wary.

If my faith were as certain as my hindsight – I would have no trouble in life. But I’ve lived enough and long enough to know that the very essence of this life is why I/we need this psalm – these words of promise – to get us through the vast eternity of now’s uncertainty.

Since my surgery four “short” months ago, I have returned to the mountains with a passion and with a new appreciation for the mountains of life. Not only have I successfully and blissfully crossed physical boundary lines, but I have let go of a few mental ones too.

  • My fear of falling and failing that has held me back since my surgery and, quite honestly, throughout my life, has started to diminish and been replaced by a sense of freedom and confidence even amid the uncertainty of life.
  • I am who I am – not just who I think I am.
  • I am strong – by a standard much different than my idea of strength.
  • And, I am assured, not by what God promises to do but what God does. What God does for those who rely on Him when life turns upside down and your light is turned to dark, when the journey ahead is not the one you mapped out, when nothing makes sense in the moment, when uncertainty reigns within you. 

God guards you as you go on your journey of life and as you return home. As you go out and come in. As you face the vast eternity of now’s uncertainty forevermore.

Let your light so shine!!

When Light Leads

Leave it to Erika Morck to turn a 13.5-mile hike into a spectacular 20+ mile adventure!! But when the scenery just keeps getting better and better, honestly, who stops?

To think that just 4 months ago almost to the day, my dearest friend and faithful trusting hiking companion, Wendy, began her daily visits to walk around and around the block with me and my sexy walker – it still blows my mind!! I cannot believe how wonderful life is when pain is not my constant companion. That my hip is now as strong as my will is a miracle of engineering!

We two young ladies and Ember went west and were dolefully rewarded with treasure for the eyes and spirit we could not have imagined. Our target was Dome Mountain, but we kept going and going! We almost made it to Sugarloaf Mountain in the Cabinet Wilderness. Since we started our “day” in near darkness we knew we didn’t want to end it that way. Sadly, this time of year the light of day is not on our side, so with Sugarloaf in our sights but still at least a half hour more ahead on uncertain trail (meaning another hour total to our hike) we made the hard decision to turn around and revisit all the wonder we had traveled through in a new light. Besides, hiking uphill, sometimes straight up hill, for 6 hours was getting a bit much!! Going downhill, sometimes straight down, in the dark would be – well – dumb.

Ember, oh Ember, he saw everything four times over and kept coming back for more. I’ve never seen such a tired, dirty dog at the end of the day – but he loved every single second of sniffing and pointing and flying through the brush like the flying squirrels he was after.

When we weren’t on a mountain top or by a lake, we had the rushing and tumbling Cedar Creek next to us to keep us company. To say this was one of the finest days I have ever had in the mountains is an understatement. The company, the grandeur, the quiet and complete solitude (we were the absolute only ones on the trail) could only have been designed to perfection by our God and Creator.

20.5 miles 4700+ft elevation gain.

The whole earth is filled with awe at your wonders; where morning dawns, where evening fades, you call forth songs of joy. ~ Psalm 65:8

Crossing Boundaries on Mt. Hefty & Thoma Lookout

Mount Hefty on the Montana/Canadian border.

45 years ago, I gleefully & boldly – as every five-year-old does – illegally crossed the border at my grandpa’s border patrol site in Eastern Montana. On a recent Saturday, still without a passport, I did it again at the opposite corner of the state – with some very fine friends – new and old!

Ember really pushed the limits of border security and went for bird – in fact the whole hike for him was one big grouse fest!! I held back a few feet across the border – straight and narrow as I am, you know – somewhat daunted by the vast wilderness before us. Nothing but mountains filled with bears, big cats, wolves and other wild things as far as the eye can see.

Not only did I cross physical boundary lines, but I also let go of a few mental ones too. The sense of freedom from letting go of my literal fears of falling and failing that have held me back since my hip replacement surgery and the confidence I gained in holding my own with some of the best mountaineers out there is huge. We covered 13.5 miles and climbed 2 mountains with 9400 feet of elevation gain – much of it off trail in under 6 hours!!! I just might have my mountain goat groove back!

I also realized – ironically while in that wandering place of mind you happen upon in the wilds – that I feel “at home” again – after years of feeling placeless- unsure of where home was – despite my stuckness. I’m not sure what this means beyond this moment in time – but it feels good.

Thank you, God – for moments of wonderful wonder and reflection in your grand creation!!! This stanza from In Christ Alone sums it up perfectly:

“In Christ alone my hope is found
He is my light, my strength, my song
This cornerstone, this solid ground
Firm through the fiercest drought and storm
What heights of love, what depths of peace
When fears are stilled, when strivings cease
My comforter, my all in all
Here in the love of Christ I stand.”

Yes, right here, in the love of Christ – I most surely stand. He is my home, my solid ground – no matter where I wander.

Let your light so shine!!

The Times, they are a Changing!

Are we finally seeing the light?

That I may never pass this way again and see things as I saw them then…

There has been a lot written, tweeted, and talked about the Great Resignation and Quiet Quitting of late. And if you, like me, find yourself on hold for unacceptable lengths of time when service in “the before times” used to be “quick” and exemplary, or waiting to be helped or served anywhere from the grocery store to the local diner, and even the doctor’s office if you can get in – then you may be more than ready to grumpily jump on the frustration band-wagon. “Where have all the workers gone? “ We shout along with the headlines. Even politicians are using the phenomenon to bolster their economic positions – on both sides of the debate.

While labor productivity has declined since the pandemic surge – the reason is not a sudden outbreak of generational laziness. It is that record-high rates of job switching have created an inexperience bubble in the service sector and many new workers aren’t fully trained. I’ve experienced this myself dealing with the service end of an institutional financial brokerage house.

Furthermore- the phenomenon seems to me to be more hype than reality reveals. Most people have not suddenly quit working – as unbelievable as that may seem from trending stories and our own experiences. According to Gallup (who also used their numbers to make headlines) the decline in worker engagement is only 2% in a year but it has grown 6% since 2000. See the graph below:

I’ll stop there with the economic data and my amateur analysis of our workforce. There are plenty of highly professional financial analysts out there who will gladly discuss those details with you!

But I do want to delve further into this quiet or great quitting phenomenon. It is something that seems anathema to me as one who entered the workforce when jobs were scarce and you were grateful for any offer that slightly resembled a job in your field of study. The idea of doing anything but over-impressing and gladly working overtime wasn’t even a consideration.

That is not the case in this post-pandemic time. As Derek Thompson explains in his “Progress” column for the Atlantic: “A lot of workers are seeking an efficient way to describe the colliding pressures of wanting to be financially secure, but not wanting to let work take over their life, but also having major status anxiety, but also experiencing guilt about that status anxiety, and sometimes feeling like gunning for that promotion, and sometimes feeling like quitting, and sometimes feeling like crawling into a sensory deprivation tank to make all those other anxieties shut up for a moment.”

A lot of words to describe the very real emotions and psyche exercises experienced by individuals wading through the complexities of the economy of life.

What is going on in our hearts and minds right now? What do we do with that status anxiety, guilt, pressure to achieve, pressure to attain, and the desire to flee and give it all away that comes with work?

I think most of us struggle to make sense of our economic lives. We struggle to find that perfect balance between not enough and too much work, not enough and too much money. Wait – can anyone have too much money??? We all think so except for ourselves!

Continuing on… We all struggle at times with not enough and too much time and we struggle to make good decisions and strive to make good use of our resources of all types. That’s the key to flourishing – but there is only so much of each of us and external factors limit what we can control – the last 14 years have certainly proven that.

During the final crisis of 2008 and the roller coaster highs and lows since, people’s lives were taken for a ride right along with their bank and retirement accounts.  During the pandemic many people saw the frenetic pace of their lives shut-down and, as life gets back to normal, we are reassessing what is important to us.

Whether those same people know it or not – they are carrying out the teachings of Jesus. Could quiet quitting and the Great Resignation actually be biblical?

Our relationship to wealth and the acquisition and management of it is complex. And, while the bible is full of guidelines for living well and proper stewardship of our resources – it won’t offer you a quick sound bite-worthy financial maxim. However, I’ll lift up a few of Jesus’ words on the economy of life.

  • “Where your heart is there your treasure will be also.” (Matthew 6:21, Luke 12:34,).
  •  “The master commended the dishonest manager because he had acted shrewdly. For the people of this world are shrewder in dealing with their own kind than are the people of the light.  I tell you, use worldly wealth to gain friends for yourselves, so that when it is gone, you will be welcomed into eternal dwellings. (Luke 16: 8-9) 
  • “No one can serve two masters. Either you will hate the one and love the other, or you will be devoted to the one and despise the other. You cannot serve both God and money.” (Luke 16:13)

From this – we can glean a few key concepts:

  • Wealth is both a blessing and a responsibility.
  • Wealth – along with status, power, and privilege – is fleeting.
  • We are placed on this earth to love and care for each other, not to separate ourselves from each other with wealth, status, or privilege.

We all like to think we have mastered the first – we are blessed to be a blessing to others – and many even consult financial advisors in order to be responsible stewards. However, we have also learned the hard way that wealth is often, if not repeatedly fleeting, and we haven’t done a very good job of not separating ourselves. The pandemic along with the politics it bred have magnified this glaring truth.

The truth is, we live in a world that is profoundly interconnected — and profoundly compromised.  Even the tiniest financial decisions we make — where to shop, how to invest our money, what to eat or wear have far-reaching consequences. Again and again, Jesus reminds us to hold this complicated reality close to our hearts and our consciences all the time. The great thinker St. Augustine asserted that God gave us people to love and things to use, but we all too often have a penchant to confuse those two, loving things and using people. That is a costly way of living in more ways than just monetarily.

We’ve been told – even by some in the church – that we can have it all – both God and money – relationships and money – love and money. The thing is – money and its acquisition can be as much of a drug as alcohol. Both must be managed responsibly or they can ruin an otherwise very fortunate life.  We do need money; we do need to participate in the economy of life – we just can’t let ourselves fall prey to it.

And so, perhaps we are finally awakening to the Gospel truth – that there is more to life than our status, our careers, our wealth. The fact that this awakening is causing such system wide disruption speaks to the pervasive presence money and its acquisition have on all of our lives. I can’t think of a better disrupter than the calling to live as children of light in a world that sorely needs grace, forgiveness, and freedom – spiritually, socially, and economically. May we enter that calling with our whole hearts and minds with creativity, urgency, shrewdness and compassion.

Thank you, Lord, for the challenges of life and for the changes that make one appreciate all that was, all they have, and give hope for what yet will be.

Let your light so shine!