Dog stories: Sucking the juices out

So...I share my home with one human roommate, three dogs and a minimum of five cats.  They're constantly teaching me things, as some of you already know.  This lesson has to do with my dog, Willow, and her eating habits.

All three dogs get fed at the same time and they get fed the same diet: dry dog food (the brand name of which shall remain anonymous for now) with a sort of sauce or gravy of water and a tablespoon or two of canned dog food.  "The Boys" - Bradley and Radar - like lots of gravy and, since water is a good filler, I give them plenty of water to help them feel full on the rations suggested by the manufacturer of the dry food.  Willow, however, likes the canned food, but not so much the water, so she gets the recommended amount of dry food and just enough of the "gravy" to make is tastier.

Here's the thing -  Willow will stand over her bowl and lap up the "gravy" until all the liquid is gone.  Then she systematically goes through the rest of her meal picking up mouthfuls of kibble and licking off the remaining canned food.  She lets the no-longer-dry food fall back into her bowl and keeps going, literally sucking the juices off of and out of her meal before eating the rest.  It takes her twice as long as the boys to eat her meals, but she persists in this behavior.  I don't know if she likes the "gravy" best and so wants to get every bit of it that she can before consuming the less tasty part, or if it's the other way around.  I sometimes wonder if she struggles to figure out why I ruin her perfectly good dog chow with this gooey stuff - or wonders why I won't just give her the whole can of wet food and forget about the boring, dry nuggets.  I guess I prefer to think she likes the gravy best.

When I was a child, my Grandmother Stout used to tell a story about a birthday dinner when she was a girl.  Her mother had made a cake and the icing was better than usual.  After a bite or two, my Grandmother carefully scraped the icing off and piled it on the edge of her plate to save for last because it was her favorite part of that cake.  As she got down to the last bite or two of cake, her father reached over with his fork and said, "Well, if you're not going to eat it, I will!"  Before she could object or explain what she had intended, he scooped up her icing and popped it in his mouth.  She would aways follow that story with the advice to just dig in to what you like - suck the juices off, as Willow might say - and not delay the joy, because you never know what's going to happen.

It seems to me that there's a common theme here, and a message that seems to be worth repeating:  Life is short, so don't waste a minute of it.  Eat dessert first once in a while.  Savor your blessings.  And no matter how many times the same blessing makes its way to you, stay grateful!

Lessons from an Amaryllis

Once again, I've had a chance to eat some humble pie, have a big chip knocked off my shoulder, and receive a blessing all at once.  Whew...it's a good thing I have a hard head!  Or is it??? 

A couple of weeks ago, I had a chance to get together with my Mom to finally have Christmas with her.  My brother Andy, his wife, Lee Anne, their son, Tim and my Mom met me for lunch near Mansfield, at the designated half way point between their home and mine.  Mom and I hadn't had a chance to exchange Christmas gifts yet - and Andy also brought with him a gift from my other brother, David.  David's gift was an Amaryllis bulb.  Andy said he'd left it in his car and it had done through one of our cold snaps and, if it didn't sprout, he'd buy me another one.  I thanked him for the delivery and said it'd probably be fine - after all, Amaryllis bulbs are pretty hardy.

On the way home, though, I kept thinking, "An Amaryllis?  Really?  He got me an Amaryllis?  You get an Amaryllis for the piano teacher, or the guy in the next cubicle at the office...not your sister.  I can't believe he got me an Amaryllis!"  And when I went to plant it, I saw that it had started to sprout and been withered by the frosty temperatures in Andy's car and started grousing some more.  "Fine...a wilted, moldy Amaryllis.  Perfect.  Merry Christmas to me!"

And then I got an email from my brother, David.  It said in part:  "I hope Andy brought our gift to you yesterday, namely the Amaryllis. That is more than just a flower we thought you might like. It stands as a kind of visual prayer, in my mind. The substrate is dry and dormant, the bulb is dry and dormant, and the whole thing looks like it has little potential-----when we first get it. But add a little water and some light, and TRANSFORMATION happens. We have one, and we can almost watch the greenery growing, at this point. There is a bulb of promise at the top of one of the shoots, and we expect to see beauty spring forth any day now. We are praying the same for your constrained circumstances-----that the Lord will add some living water, and that there will be a new burst of thriving life springing upward, soon to be crowned with a new bloom of multidimensional beauty in your life experience."    

My hard heart melted at once, and I realized what a putz I had been.  I need to write to David and let him know that not only has the dormant bulb begun to show signs of vibrant green life, but it did so after being stopped dead in its tracks on the first attempt to sprout.  Having been damaged, then pruned by me to get the dead and moldering parts off, it has managed to find the strength to try again.  Amazing - truly amazing.

I hope I can let its continued growth be a visual reminder to me of the power of prayer, and the power of the resurrection to meet me on the other side of every big or small, literal or symbolic, mental, emotional, physical or spiritual death.  If you are going through "constrained circumstances" maybe you'd like to see if there are any Amaryllis plants left at the local garden store.  A visual prayer can be a wonderful reminder in tough times of the subtle, quiet ways our God works.

Freedom to Marry

On February 12, 2012, I had the opportunity to join a veritable who's who of GLBT rights supporters on the dais at Freedom to Love/Freedom to Marry - an event organized by First UU Church.  With the possible exception of some ad-libbing I may have done, the following are my remarks.

"I began my work as a pastor as a tender young thing in 1990, and since then have officiated at many, many, many Holy Unions, commitment ceremonies, "gay weddings" - call them what you will.  I've also officiated a handful of legal Holy Matrimonies" for straight couples.  I've done two commitment ceremonies for straight couples who chose not to legally marry for various reasons, but wanted to have a public celebration of their commitment to one another.  I've also officiated one legal "gay wedding" - and I had to go to CA to do it! 

The daughter of my 22 year partnership with Stephanie Miller (not the liberal radio talk show host) lives in Oakland with her partner of 12 years.  In 2008, as they realized that Prop 8 might just pass at the polls after all, they called and asked if I could buy a web cam and do their wedding by Skype before election day the next week.  Once I determined that it was actually legal for me to marry them under CA law, I told them to forget the web cam, I was buying a plane ticket!

One of the favorite passages that people choose to include in the ceremonies is an offering from an old Episcopal Wedding Rite that says: "the union of two people in heart, body and mind, is intended by God for their mutual joy, for the help and comfort given in prosperity and adversity, and, sometimes, for the raising up of children in the knowledge of love."

A marriage license from any of our great 50 states does not ensure such a union - just ask Kim Kardashian.  And when a union like this is formed between two people, no license issued by the state is necessary.

In reality, people get married for all sorts of reasons, many of them less meaningful to my way of thinking that what I believe God intends.  Whatever the reasons for joining together, and regardless of whether any couple wants to affirm a spiritual significance in their relationship, the Declaration of Independence of this great nation says very clearly (though is sexist and a bit archaic language):  "We hold these truths to be self evident, that all men are created equal, that they are endowed by their Creator with certain unalienable Rights, that among these are Life, Liberty and the pursuit of Happiness,  -That to secure these rights, Governments are instituted among Men, deriving their just powers from the consent of the governed,   - That whenever any Form of Government becomes destructive of these ends, it is the Right of the People to alter or to abolish it, and to institute new Government, laying its foundation on such principles and organizing its powers in such form, as to them shall seem most likely to effect their Safety and Happiness."

The laws of this nation that keep couples above the age of consent from experiencing the mutual joy of committed relationship and the help and comfort given in times of prosperity and adversity may be changed in order to secure the unalienable rights of life, liberty and the pursuit of happiness.  Those of us who believe in marriage equality don't want to do away with the institution of marriage - we just want to open it up to all Americans, who are supposed to be considered equal in the eyes of the law anyway.

I pray that before my career as a pastor is over, I will be able to say that I have performed many, many commitment ceremonies and many, many legal marriage for straight, gay, lesbian and transgender couples and that I'll be able to officiate them all right here in Ohio."

During the reception after the event, I was told that for a minute there, people thought I was going to try to incite a revolution.  I don't think we need a revolution, except maybe a revolution in the hearts and minds of enough Americans - both lawmakers and their constituents - to alter the laws in each state to ensure marriage equality.  The attempts to repeal DOMA in our nation's captial give me hope that just such an interpersonal revolution is being stirred up!

“A journey of a thousand miles starts with a single step.” I came across that familiar old phrase again today in the devotional I read this morning. It was followed up by “We have to begin somewhere.” I remember thinking, “Yes, and we begin over and over again.”


My next thought was along the lines of “it’s sort of like relapsing – and starting again.” And then I realized I was wandering dangerously close to seriously scary, conservative territory where “good Christians” call the backsliding, degenerate, and fallen back to the straight and narrow path. Once I shuddered a bit and shook off that image, I got back to my train of thought – in a journey of a thousand miles, there are many first steps.

There is, of course, the very first step. Then there’s the first step of each day. We all have to take a rest somewhere along the line or pause to get our bearings. We stop to eat, to pray, to sleep, to talk to other travelers, to ask directions. We stop for all sorts of reasons, not all of them (or even most of them) unfaithful, errant or inappropriate. And when our rest is done, we take another first step and embark on the next segment of our journey. None of us can keep moving 24/7, so what am I to make of this image of relapse in terms of a life of discipleship?

For an addict, a relapse is an incident in which the addictive substance is “used” after a period of abstinence. The goal is abstinence and after a relapse that person can begin again. For people of faith, the goal is to embrace God in some way – to be consciously aware of their connection to God and to actively love God and neighbor and self on a daily basis. A relapse in that case would be a period of disinterest in, or inattention to, the presence of Spirit or a failure to be intentionally conscious of the connection – to ignore God, neighbor and/or self on a serious spiritual level.

I suspect that for most of us, our spiritual relapses are more a habit of inattention rather than intentional disregard. Oh, for some of us, “religion” seems like it would squelch our fun and make us boring and our lives tedious. The only models some of us had were people who said “No” to every joyful, sensual, thing in life as if those things were bad in and of themselves and anti-spirit by their very nature. If given the choice between an attitude that denigrates everything earthly and bodily enjoyable, and one that embraces everything earthly and bodily enjoyable, some will choose to shun spirit and go for the gusto. So, yes, I realize that some folks intentionally ignore the spiritual side of life because they were offered a false choice. True wholeness involves integrating spirituality into our lives so that we love God, neighbor and self. When we can make love, eat strawberries dipped in chocolate and honestly thank God for each sweet moment of both, then we’re on our way to something important! But, I digress…

Rest, or relapse – which describes the periods when you’re not moving forward? Does either one describe where you are in your journey right now? Whichever it might be, remember that you can always take another step – another first step – and it just might end up being a great leap of faith.

Cat Stories - The Purr

I have a bunch of cats.  Six live in the house and three more live outside on the porch or in the barn.  Of the six in the house, one is an old fellow who used to live outside.  George has been around since the mid 1990's - along with his sister, Bennie - and he's always had a fantastic purr.  Well, until recently, anyway. 

George accidentally got locked in the storage shed on my property and spent the better part of a week in there with no food or water, no light, no litter box.  When my friend finally suggested looking to see if he was in there, he was curled up on the seat of a riding mower and clearly wasn't doing well.  He next took up residence in the bathroom where my roommate and I nursed him back to health.  He regained his appetite, stopped coughing and wheezing, got steady on his feet - but his purr has been forever changed. 

Instead of the robust purr he used to have, he now has a purr that sort of creaks, or grates, or protests as it comes out.  I suppose the delicate membranes in his throat or chest that make the purring sound were damaged by either the extended lack of water or maybe by cries to be let out of the shed that I didn't hear.  Whatever happened, I can hardly stand to listen to it - but he still purrs all the time.  And I do mean all the time.  Unless he's sound asleep, he's purring - loudly, raspingly, irritatingly.  When he's drifting off to sleep, it gets quieter and quieter, but if he's awake, it's up and running full throttle.  I don't know if he's telling the world he's happy to be alive, or if he's trying to make me feel guilty with this constant reminder of his traumatic week!  All I know is that it rubs my very last nerve the wrong way.

So why don't I put him back outside?  I did - he came right back in through the dog door.  Having been locked in the shed, he now refuses to be locked out of the house.  He's not the only cat who knows how to use the dog door, though.  The newest cat in the menagerie is Ruby, who came to the porch emaciated, having recently had and nursed kittens and hardly bigger than a kitten herself.  Again, she went into the bathroom (also known as a feline long term care facility) and by the time she was well enough to go back outside, she followed the dogs right back in.

Ruby, unlike George, never purrs.  I've never heard her make a sound - not a hiss, a purr, or a chirp.  But I've felt it.  Ruby likes to cuddle and one night I realized that I could feel her throat vibrating.  Her soundless purr was surprisingly comforting as she lay in my lap with her chin across my arm.  She has no voice, but she purrs anyway.  It is her personal expression of contentment and it is enough.

I learn a lot of things from the animals I keep company with.  I'm still trying to decide what to make of the cat who purrs all the time with such an ugly, irritating purr I want to throttle him and the one who keeps her purr to herself.  Maybe they're living proof of the notion from Ecclesiastes that there's a time for everything - for purring no matter how it sounds, and for keeping silent.  Maybe George is a living example of the notion that it's good to make a "joyful noise" even if it really does sound like noise (and not music) to anyone else.  And maybe Ruby is a living example of not praying in public, but lifting her voice to God in private.  Maybe they illustrate that it's not always the loudest voice that's most sincere or that still waters can run deep.  Maybe they both teach us that no matter how traumatic life has been, you have to find your own voice and your own healing and your own way to make peace with what's happened.  And maybe they're just cats who purr because that's what cats do - what do you think?