Filling the spaces

I find, suddenly, that I have a lot to say. Those of you who know my husband, Paul, may not be surprised by this, but it is surprising to me. For the next 6 weeks, I am working in Albany, NY, (not Albany, TX, although several of you have asked), and I thought, being a hip mom of teens, I would join the blogging community. Undoubtedly they will shudder, saying, “Mom, you’re killing it,” –and that is yet another perk.

Now there are many things that come up when one is working far away from home. Today I choose to write about “Filling the Spaces.” Quiet is something a mother of three boys doesn’t experience often, and I am finding that it takes considerable practice to get used to it. Some people never get used to it….these are the ones with the TV turned on loud, day after day, not really listening, but finding some sort of comfort in the noise. As for me, I have another goal—to learn to live in the quiet spaces. So yesterday, after waking, showering, and eating breakfast, I got on the internet to look for hiking trails near Albany. After perusing several, I chose The Christman Sanctuary. The website promised easy trails near a meandering creek that leads to a 30-foot waterfall, only 15 miles from town. Undaunted by the cool, drizzly rain, I got into my car with my coat (the one that makes me look like a pink Michelin man), scarf, and gloves, hoping to catch some of the fall color before it completely disappeared. While there are still some brilliant trees in the city, I found as I drove west on highway 20, the color gave way to a wet grayness. The website gave good directions, and I was at the Sanctuary in about 30 minutes. My silver Toyota Corolla was the only car in the small lot by the trailhead. Hmmm….I wondered how many axe-murders watch for women hiking alone in deserted spots. I hoped that the rain would keep them away. The ground was wet with mud and soggy leaves under my feet as I entered the trail. I could hear some birds in the distance, and after going about 500 feet, I could hear running water. Despite the rain, it was a beautiful hike. As I began to climb into the hills, I thought to call my husband and let him know where I was, lest I should slip and fall, breaking my leg, or hitting my head. I was violating the “buddy rule,” and it was somewhat disconcerting that not a soul (except God) knew where I was. Thankfully, I still had cell coverage as I left a message on the machine at home in Austin. Then onward I marched, toward the waterfall. There were other reassurances in the forest. Someone had carefully marked the trail with blue and green signs, so indeed, it was easy to follow. The sound of falling water got progressively louder, encouraging me to continue on. As I approached the edge of the small cliff near the waterfall, I again became fearful….thinking how very convenient it would be for someone to push me over the edge and into the swirling water. And I thought it was a shame that these irrational thoughts were interfering with the perfect communion with God that this beautiful piece of nature had to offer. I wandered some more through the trees, snapping pictures with my camera, wishing to preserve the beauty of this place for my loved ones to share; and enjoying the sound of the water, the smell of the pine needles on the wet ground, and the feel of the breeze on my face. As the trail meandered away from the stream, I ran into a family, complete with dog and children running to see what was ahead, and a feeling of safety returned….but with the return of safety, that special feeling of being alone in nature left. I got back in my car and returned to my hotel. For the rest of the afternoon, I experienced a restlessness I could not explain. While I had promised myself to work hard on paperwork in the afternoon, and to practice my medical Spanish, I could never force myself to turn off the television. I watched made-for-TV-movie after made-for-TV-movie, telling myself, “Just say no…turn it off…you can do it!” Although I didn’t do it until my telephone rang. It was my sister in Minnesota. We had a nice visit, remembering our time together this summer, and fantasizing about how nice it would be for us kids to bring our Dad to New York for a family trip.

Today I have another chance to practice being alone in a quiet space. I decided to attend worship at Emmaus United Methodist Church, a church I chose for its proximity to my hotel, as well as for the multicultural experience promised on its website. I left my hotel 40 minutes early for a 10 minute ride, so I decided to visit a nearby park before church started. The day was sunnier than yesterday, and in this city park, there were still many trees wearing their fall finest. I marveled at the colors, again snapping pictures, and thanking God for creation. When I arrived at the church a little bit later, I heard the sound of an African choir, not unlike the choirs I have heard many times during trips in Haiti. I felt homesick for my friends there, even as I enjoyed the simple, beautiful music. The air was filled with clear, strong voices, blended in perfect harmony. Next, we were greeted by a soft-spoken Asian woman named Genelin who introduced Pastor Denise, a kindly and reverent woman who reminded me of a Catholic Nun. We sang songs of faith that I recognized, and then Genelin led us in the Lord’s Prayer—significantly prayed by each of us in our native languages. I was reminded that when we pray in community in Haiti, the prayers are never translated. Because God speaks all languages, and prayer is spoken directly to God, there is no need for translation.

The scripture reading was in Swahili, the Gospel in Urdu. Pastor Denise reminded us that God requires us to worship God alone, and to give up the gods of this great land—gods such as capitalism and affluence. And those that come here as refugees to find the promise of liberty— bestowed by God alone—they must be careful not to adopt these new gods of prosperity.

The sermon was given by a remarkable young man from Houston, Wayne Kerr, whom I had never heard of, but have since learned is a fairly well-known Christian singer/songwriter. Wayne reminded us that God is looking to find all God’s lost sheep, and Wayne challenged us to give our offering— to give of our very selves to help in God’s quest. I was privileged to experience one of his original songs. (And I plan to be sharing some of his CDs this Christmas).

As I left the service, feeling very blessed to be in this vibrant Church community (I am speaking now of the greater Church), I wondered, what will I offer today. Perhaps it is to sit with God for a while in this quiet space and to reflect upon the many blessings I have received; to remember, pray for, and love those who are far away from me; to work on grants that will support our health ministry for the poor, and to practice Spanish so that I can better communicate and serve my neighbors. The TV is off….I plan to keep it off all day. I plan to practice being alone with God. I hope to get better at it. Thanks be to God.