Fall has brought with it a flurry of activity here in the neighborhood.  There are jackhammers, saws, bulldozers, mowers and trimmers all abuzz from morning until night.  It seems Fall is the time to put things back in shape, renew them, revitalize, renovate, and restore them to some previous picture of quality.

With so much activity all of the sudden, I can’t help but think what I need to be working on.  What should we be doing with these Fall days to make ourselves renewed, restored, and back in shape?

I know there are any number of things I should be doing – like continuing to exercise, getting adequate sleep, reading and praying, and all the regular suggestions.  But, what might we need to renovate on a deeper level?  What might we need to reconstruct so that we might be able to be the picture of quality that God intends for us to be?

Is it a renewed sense of forgiveness with the actions to accompany it?  Or, perhaps, is it a restored relationship that we have let languish with the passage of time?  Could it be revitalized communication with co-workers or neighbors?  Or, perhaps, is it a deeper commitment to life in the Spirit and a discipleship that lives and acts on what it believes?

Perhaps this Fall would be a great time to take up the grace of renovation and ask ourselves what needs to be renewed and reshaped in our own lives.  The jackhammers, saws and bulldozers will provide the background music for our efforts.

My walk this morning has been preempted by the rain – three solid hours of it.  And, I’m not talking about the misty, delicate, light rain of the Northwest.  This is real rain with a beat, a rhythm, a cadence, and real volume running down the streets and sidewalks.

The temps are still very mild and I have all the windows open so the sound of the rain is overwhelming.  I’m reminded of a story a friend told me years ago.  She said when she was a little girl she had a teacher (a religious Sister) who had once stopped the class in the middle of the lesson because it had begun to rain.  Sister asked the students to put their books away and lay their heads down on the desk and just listen to the rain.

What a beautiful grace-filled lesson!  And my friend never forgot it.  Years after I learned of that story, I met this Sister and she became my Spiritual Director for a time.  She was filled with great spiritual wisdom and deep and beautiful suggestions for how to recognize, see, listen and talk to God.  And, I have never forgotten her.  I think of her often, but especially whenever the rains pour down so steadily that I can think of little else.

Who are the people who have taught you to recognize, see, listen and talk to God?  Say a prayer of thanks for the grace of their presence in your life.  And let the rain continue to dance and sing.

There is grace in anticipation and it can be an incredible gift.  We are expecting our son and his girlfriend to arrive a week from tomorrow and I find myself filled with anticipation – the good kind.  It’s a feeling of excitement and of not being able to wait until they get here.

There are so many things we want to share with them about our life here and so many things to talk about and to catch up on . . . like how their life has been and the new things they are doing and accomplishing.   And I am filled with anticipation for the four days we will have together.

What do you anticipate?  There is grace in anticipation and it can be an incredible gift.

Still getting accustomed to the weather patterns here, the thunderstorm last night surprised me, and I must admit, scared me a little.  As I laid in bed trying to sleep, the lightning flashed and the thunder crashed    . . .loudly and very close!

Trying to find some calm in the midst of the storm, I settled myself into prayer while the booming and cracking continued.  And in my prayer I was reminded of another time when there was thunder in my life.

I was tired and confused and teetering on new decisions and new directions.  As I drove home one evening I cried in exasperation “Oh, Lord, if only I had a sign that I’m doing the right thing!”  Just as the thought had become a cry in my mind, there was a huge thunderclap!  Just one thunderclap, mind you.  And you must understand, this was in the Pacific Northwest where thunder and lightning are rare to non-existent!

Remembering that event last night in the midst of this long and active thunderstorm, I roused myself to a new level of wakefulness.  I opened the ears of my heart and listened intently.  “Speak, Lord, your servant is listening,” I prayed with some intensity.

When did you last hear the grace of God speaking?  When did you last listen?

Fall is coming to DC, but oh so gradually!  I can’t help noticing how gracefully the trees are turning this year.  First I notice a little tip of yellow or red, then with the passage of days it deepens and moves toward all the edges.  Each morning I notice that gradually the color has seeped toward the center, while the brilliance of the greens still dominate each leaf.

I can’t help but think that there is a message for us in this gradual grace of changing colors.  When we are faced with difficulties or decisions or new avenues in life, we shouldn’t think that we must make some change all at once!  Not even Nature requires that the landscape change in an instant.

So, if we want change in our lives, if we want to make a decision to do something differently, we must be kind to ourselves and allow the change to take place gradually.  Love, forgiveness, compassion, altruism, new job, retirement – or any change we may want to make in our lives –  does not happen in an instant.  It gradually grows.  Perhaps we must be like the fall leaves and let the graceful change of colors and attitudes, decisions and life’s choices paint their beauty gradually on the palette of our souls.

The best learning from history allows us to make decisions and live more positively in the present because we can see the outcome of whatever the issue was in the past.  And, with reflection, hindsight is always 20/20.  I was thinking about this after reading an article in this month’s Smithsonian Magazine titled Unmasking Thomas Jefferson by Henry Wiencek.  Wiencek states that while we credit Jefferson with the noble ideals that founded our country – such as “all men are created equal,” Jefferson himself did not live his life true to that belief.  There has been much documentation of Jefferson’s slave holdings.  Now there is new evidence that was buried during research in the 1950’s that documents Jefferson’s harsh treatment of his slaves.  Jefferson himself didn’t do the punishing but certainly allowed, if not encouraged it, to take place through hired overseers who kept production lucrative at Monticello with slave labor.

Quoted in the article is the statement of a Virginia abolitionist, Moncure Conway, who said “Never did a man achieve more fame for what he did not do.”

Not to discredit the great contributions of Thomas Jefferson, as he lived in an era I can hardly imagine, but the words that stay with me are  “. . . what he did not do.”  Obviously, others in his time believed in equality enough to actually make changes in their lives and workplaces to see that their actions were consistent with what they believed.  Take for instance George Washington.  He made provisions in his will to free all his slaves, where Jefferson did nothing of the kind.  I’m sure Jefferson’s beliefs were strong – they have been the building blocks of this great nation.  But, how could he have lived his personal life inconsistent with such noble beliefs?

As I reflect on this my mind wanders to our time and the issues we face today in the Church.  How can so many believe in equality of genders while so few are willing to make whatever changes they can to see that actually come to fruition?  Obviously, we still have a very difficult time learning from history.  For any progress to occur many things need to change, and we need to do much more than merely talk or write about those changes.  We might actually need to accept the gift of grace and make our actions consistent with our beliefs.  Or else history may look upon us in our time as having achieved some kind of fame for what we did not do.

The old adage, “Actions speak louder than words,” is pertinent here.  Jesus was not afraid to act on what he believed.  As his disciples, why are we?

One of my secret joys during these days of my retreat – along with reading, praying and walking – is catching occasional episodes of TV shows from the 80’s and 90’s that I never saw when they were first aired.  I didn’t watch much TV during those two decades because I was working full time and going to school and keeping the children and the house in order; being wife and mother.

So, yesterday I caught a scene from a show that touched me deeply.  Just to give the context:  the wife had gone to meet an old friend without her husband’s knowledge.  On her return home she is mugged and ends up in the hospital.  The husband is at her bedside and stroking her hair asking “Why didn’t you ask me to take you there?”  She responds: “This has nothing to do with you.”  To which the husband replies: “Every breath you take in your entire life has something to do with me.”

When my husband returned from his day of work I recounted the scene and told him how much it touched me.  He responded within a heartbeat:  “That’s what I would say!  That would be my line.  I wish I’d thought of that.”

How wonderful to be so loved and cherished.  It is a grace I do not take lightly.

And now, all I can think about is that line.  “Every breath you take in your entire life has something to do with me.”

Just image God saying that to each of us.  What grace!!!  Every breath we take is of concern to God.  Every breath is graced.  And with each breath we take we are loved and cherished beyond what we can even imagine.

Ever since enjoying the weekend at my brother’s farm in Pennsylvania, I can’t get this little poem out of my head.  I learned it somewhere, sometime in my youth, and for some reason, have never forgotten it.

In youth because I could not be a singer, I did not even try to write a song. I planted no small trees along the roadside because I knew their growth would take too long.  But now, with wisdom that the years have taught me, I’ve found that it may be a blessed thing, to plant a tree for someone else to water; to write a song for someone else to sing.

This all comes to mind because my brother has spent the last few years planting small nut trees along the perimeter of his property.  He guided us along a walk that included a little history and the names he has given to each tree.  No tree was more than three or four feet high and each one was many years (sometimes 8 to 10) away from seeing the fullness of fruit production.

So, why put so much effort into something he may never see to fruition, or may see come to life only partially?  Because it may be a blessed thing.  Someone else, in some future time will be there to enjoy what he has labored to plant and make beautiful on this already lovely property.  Someone else will be there to water it and enjoy it, even if we are not.  Everything we do cannot be just for ourselves alone.  In fact, most things we do will have some lasting effect – for good or for bad – on future generations.

Take inspiration from my brother and start something good you may not see to completion.  It may be a graced and blessed thing!

Yesterday, amid my normal quiet retreat I received three phone calls!  That is the mother lode of phone calls for me in one day.  Each call brought a grace and a lovely connection with friends and family that I didn’t know I needed.

At noon I received a surprise call from a long-time friend whom I had known when our babies were being born.  Our kids grew up together and we have stayed in touch all this time despite the fact that they moved to Portland in the early ’90’s.  She had so many wonderful things to tell me, not the least of which was news of her first grand-baby!  What a joy it was to talk with her, to reconnect, and to share her excitement.

Not long after I received a call from my dear friend who had grown up in this area, but whom I met while in Seattle.  She and I went to school together while working on our doctorates and we have enjoyed a deep and rewarding relationship.  It was such a joy to receive her call and to be able to talk and laugh about the little and inconsequential things of life!  She also keeps me up to date on other mutual friends in the Seattle area and I always feel renewed and cherished after spending time on the phone with her.

As I was preparing for dinner a third call came through.  It was our oldest son who just wanted to talk!  What a joy to know that our children still want to be connected to us and don’t mind calling to talk and tell of their lives and their concerns.  He is always reaching out to his wandering parents and it is with a deep love that I appreciate his calls and his efforts to stay connected.

Interspersed throughout the day were also three calls from my husband, hard at work at his office.  I look forward to these calls with great joy because they keep us connected with a feeling of closeness through the ups and downs of the day.

Each call was a joy; each call a grace.  And each call allowed me to see how God showers me with so much love and concern through my friends and family!

Each time we answer that ring tone, know that there is grace not far behind!  Or, make your cell phone an instrument of grace and give someone you know a call.

I can’t help it, but I can’t stop thinking about our weekend in Pennsylvania.  This morning on my walk to the grocery store I kept thinking about being out in the mountains in Pennsylvania and how in the 1800’s if you didn’t have the onion, potato, beef, bread – or whatever – you simply didn’t have it.  The people who settled our country had to work for their food; had to work to make whatever they needed; had to work to clothe and feed themselves.  It was another time.

In many cases, we have forgotten so much of our pioneer roots.  Just the simple work of canning a pot of tomatoes over the weekend brought all this back to me.  My sister-in-law had never canned before and didn’t have all the particular implements to do the job . . . so, she took a trip to the neighbor’s and borrowed what we needed.  As I walk the urban streets to the grocery, I realize that in many ways we have forgotten what it means to be a neighbor.  We have forgotten how to rely on the land and how to interact with each other – how to borrow and lend, or how to share our wisdom and our bounty.

There is something to be learned from remembering and honoring the work and hardships our ancestors had to endure to make a place where we could live without such difficulties.  They offered us grace.  Perhaps we need to remember more often and offer grace to others in our own age in the form of buying seasonally and locally.  Perhaps we need to think about supporting family farms, doing the work of our own canning and preserving, and appreciating what our local produce has to offer us during this harvest season.  Doing so might be an exercise in grace.