Space for God by Don Postema

There are a few books which are so significant and so full of depth, books which, for me, have been life-changing and transformational, books that are sometimes difficult to explain, describe, or discuss with a friend who hasn’t read them, other than to say, “You need to read this book!”

Are there any books like that for you? (Hey, this might make a good Facebook list.)

Anyway, by way of example, here are four very different books which have been transformational for me, books of significance, books I will read again sometime soon:

Death of a Salesman by Arthur Miller
Bread for the Journey by Henri Nouwen
Teaching a Stone to Talk by Annie Dillard
The Glass Castle by Jeanette Walls

And then there is Space for God by Don Postema. I am so glad our church has a Saturday morning small group walking through the book together. They will be changed. I cannot review this book adequately, at least not today. The best I can do is to let Don Postema speak for himself by sharing a brief quotation from each of the first four chapters:

Making Space

If we are to live with any authenticity, we must join those “saints and poets” who grasp life at depth. To live so deeply is a special challenge, for it is so easy to be superficial. We are so busy….

Perhaps we need to flop into a chair more often—before we are exhausted. We need more leisure time to touch those inner dimensions of our lives, to ask some fundamental questions, or just to be.

I Belong

Most of us know that feeling of being alone, isolated. It’s not the same as choosing to be alone once in a while, or being independent at times. It’s the feeling that no one is near, that no one remembers….

Even when events and people say, “You don’t belong,” God’s gentle voices reassures us: “You do belong—to me.” Knowing that [we belong to God] does not solve all our problems, but it can give us a perspective on loneliness. It can help us understand that we do not have to be greedy for attention as a solution to loneliness, we do not have to cling to people for our identity. We get our identity from God.

Gratitude Takes Nothing For Granted

Greed grabs. Gratitude receives….

Gratitude takes nothing for granted. When you are truly grateful, you recognize not only the dinner someone prepared as a gift, but also become aware of the person who prepared it. You are cognizant of the concern it took for someone to call, to send a card, to give a compliment. You are aware of the love involved in a routine offer to do the dishes, fix a leaky faucet, take out the garbage. You may get a glimpse at the wonder of friends and family….

Gratitude is the appropriate response to belonging.

Gestures of Gratitude

Gratitude recognizes that a gift has been given, a favor has been done by someone. There is a gift and a giver. But there is more. Gratitude also calls for a response to that gift. We thank the giver with an expression of appreciation—a handshake, a hug, a note. A gesture of gratitude completes the exchange, closes the circle, lets the love flow back to the giver…..

Actually, the exchange is more like a spiral than a circle—a spiral in which the giver gets thanked and so becomes the receiver, and the joy of giving and receiving rises higher and higher.

Your life is a sacred journey

Reading this was a blessing to me...
It was one of those things you sometimes come across, that, almost immediately, rings true.

Blessings to you and all those who love you.

Peace Love & Coffee,
Randy

Your life is a sacred journey
And it is about change, growth, discovery, movement, transformation, continuously expanding your vision of what is possible, stretching your soul, learning to see clearly & deeply, listening to your intuition, taking courageous risks, embracing challenges at every step along the way.
You are on the path
exactly where you need to be right now...
And from here, you can only go forward, shaping your life story into a magnificent tale of triumph, of healing, of courage, beauty, wisdom, power, dignity & love.

-Caroline Joy Adams

Dancing with Joy

I will begin what I know will feel like a "short" three-day retreat tomorrow morning after driving the kids to school and dragging the garbage and recycling out the curb. If you know me at all, you probably can understand how it is often a temptation for me to take along more than I could ever read, to take along a dozen books when it would be more profitable to focus on one. Or to focus just on a page or two. So this time I've been striving to be minimalistic in my planning. And I'm taking along just one book, a compilation of 99 poems edited by Roger Housden, Dancing with Joy. Just one, thin book. Quite something for me.

Along with the book, just these supplies: a journal with plenty of blank pages, two fountain pens, a one-page printout of John 3:14-21 in two versions, and a photocopy of one of my favorite, joyful poems (which isn't in the book)--Naomi Shihab Nye's poem "So Much Happiness."

So Much Happiness
for Michael

It is difficult to know what to do with so much happiness.
With sadness there is something to rub against,
a wound to tend with lotion and cloth.
When the world falls in around you, you have pieces to pick up,
something to hold in your hands, like ticket stubs or change.

But happiness floats.
It doesn't need you to hold it down.
It doesn't need anything.
Happiness lands on the roof of the next house, singing,
and disappears when it wants to.
Even the fact that you once lived in a peaceful tree house
and now live over a quarry of noise and dust
cannot make you unhappy.
Everything has a life of its own,
it too could wake up filled with possibilities
of coffee cake and ripe peaches,
and love even the floor which needs to be swept,
the soiled linens and scratched records...

Since there is no place large enough
to contain so much happiness,
you shrug, you raise your hands, and it flows out of you
into everything you touch. You are not responsible.
You take no credit, as the night sky takes no credit
for the moon, but continues to hold it, and share it,
and in that way, be known.

From Words Under the Words: Selected Poems. Naomi Shihab Nye. Far Corner Books, 1995.

Maybe I'll just leave the book at home and take the poem and the scripture and the blank notebook, and see what might flow out of my pen. Or maybe I'll just spend three days thinking about the night sky and the moon, and about being truly known... and loved.

Peace Love & Coffee,
Randy

New in Town

Well, thanks to Tom for passing this trailer along to me. I've been sharing it with family and friends and laughing every time I watch it. I think it's gonna be a great movie. Of course, I loved FARGO and AMERICAN BEAUTY, too, so some of you might not trust my judgment. :) Anyway, check out this trailer for a good laugh. And if you're from around our neck of the woods, watch for the "Welcome to New Ulm" sign.

Live like you were dyin'

Only recently a really, really good friend -- who, like me, has eclectic tastes in music, art, food, exercise, and life in general -- reminded me that Tim McGraw is the son of former Phillies baseball pitcher Tug McGraw, and introduced me to some music that I've really fallen in love with. True confession time... I've always told folks I like all good music... but in my mind I've always made an exception for rap and country. Please don't take offense NASCAR fans, but I'd rather read a book. Same goes for watching golf on TV, if that makes a difference. :)

Anyway, I may still prefer Minnesota Public Radio to the "new country station," but I will now accept any Tim McGraw CD for Christmas! If you're so inclined.

Peace, love, and coffee,
Pax, agape, and java,
Randy

Undercover Angel at the Lockspot

During July we were blessed with the trip of a lifetime: an Alaska cruise with Carolyn’s family. On the Monday after the cruise (during our five days in Seattle), we spent the better part of the morning and early afternoon at the Woodlawn Park Zoo. Snacks at the zoo were too pricey for our liking, so we spent the last 90 minutes “running on empty.” Our good friend Sue Meyer had previously pointed out the Lockspot Café at the entrance to the park which leads to the locks dividing Lake Union from Puget Sound. A big sign outside highlighted their specialty, Fish ‘n Chips. Perfect late lunch fare for a hungry family after a day at the zoo!

The Lockspot Café was everything we’d hoped for and more. Luke had Fish ‘n Chips, Carolyn ordered Clam Strips ‘n Chips, and I opted for Halibut ‘n Chips. Elyse, who is the only seafood-averse person in our family, went with the Bacon Cheeseburger. But even Elyse tried the fish and the clam strips and had to admit they were fabulous. I tried to trade a bite of mine for a bit of Luke’s but no dice. No leftovers for Luke either. It was good food, reasonably priced, with good service. Only later would we fully realize how good the service really was.
It was the morning of our flight back to MSP when we finally realized where Luke’s Alaska cap had been left. Yes, you’re way ahead of me. Yes, it had been left at the Lockspot three days earlier.

Gotta tell you about Luke’s cap.

Carolyn and I had given the kids an allowance for souvenirs. Totally discretionary spending for them. We’d done the same thing last summer, passing two envelopes (each filled with $35) back to Elyse and Luke in the back of the van to brighten up the long, flat, and sometimes (often?) boring trip across the middle of South Dakota on our way to the Black Hills. It was a hoot to see the contrast between Luke and Elyse. Elyse had spent almost everything after the first two or three days. But Luke—oh, my word, has the world ever seen such a careful, frugal spender?! He would agonize over every potential purchase, usually deciding, “No, not yet, not this, not now….” And on the Alaska Cruise, even with bigger allowances, Luke was just as careful this year. He looked at hundreds of tee-shirts and caps, always choosing to wait for a better deal or for something he liked better. We took a train ride along the “Trail of ’98” from Skagway to the Yukon border. Luke thought a long time about getting the cap they were offering on the train. But no, “not for fifteen bucks, Dad.” And then, back in town, he struck gold! This one wasn’t on sale for $12 or $10—not even for $5. Luke had found the perfect Alaska cap for two bucks!

So it was all the worse to discover the two-dollar cap had been left at the Lockspot Café. It was hopeless anyway, so I waited to make the obligatory phone call until after getting back home. It’s Friday or Saturday morning—nearly a full week after leaving this fairly unremarkable (but invaluable) Alaska cap at the Lockspot. A busy employee answered, listened to a briefer version of the story, and said, “Oh, I think I remember where we put that.” And then assured me she would send the cap and that I need not worry about sending her postage. I don’t remember her exact words, but it was something along these lines.

For eight-year-old boys from halfway across the country, we send lost Alaska caps back for free. Especially when it was the perfect Alaska cap. For only two bucks.

As the silent leaven works its secret way,
Or as grows the seed grain through the night and day;
Lord, so be the increase peaceable but sure,
Of thy word within us, and thy kingdom’s power.

(Norman Elliott, 1951)

The growth of the kingdom of heaven—the reign of God’s peace—is most often hidden from our view. Grace comes into our lives from the most unexpected places. Grace happens when, through a miracle, ordinary folk “…offer all that faith can do… while love is making all things new” (B. Wren).

Strangers are sometimes angels. And angels are sometimes waitressing at our favorite place for Fish ‘n Chips in Seattle.

Isn't life wonderful?

Carolyn and the kids left for Pella earlier this week, leaving me to "hold down the fort" and spend some quality time with Cannon. Dog days? We're officially in the dog days of summer (I think) but the weather hasn't felt like dog days at all. It has been absolutely gorgeous lately. Today was warm, but hardly humid, and this evening it is positively and perfectly pleasant. As Luke said to me a few days ago, it feels like Seattle. Seattle, by the way, is not at all dreary and rainy during July. At least that's the secret we were told not to share with everyone. The days we spent in Seattle were all sunny and 70s.

Holding down the fort and trying to use up a little more of my vacation, I spent more than half the afternoon cleaning house. Honestly, I don't do this enough. I tend to take the dog for a walk or -- more often -- visit a coffee shop with a book and/or crossword and/or a journal. And those things are therapeutic for me. But so was cleaning the house. I need to do it more often. Not that Carolyn needs my help in this department. Don't let me even imply such a thing! (And certainly not on the eve of our 15th wedding anniversary!)

Most men would rather fix something. I'm not good at that. I can write stuff, but I can't "right" stuff. (Play on words there.) Kathleen Norris wrote a book about the healing power of the ordinary stuff, like doing laundry and picking up the basement and dusting furniture.

Anyway, I could usually write something cohesive. Tonight I feel like I'm just going on and on without any destination in sight. At least as far as this post is concerned.

But in life, I feel a strong sense of purpose. The Westminster Confession says our highest purpose is simply to know God and enjoy -- yes, ENJOY -- God forever. I sense that one of my highest callings is to simply live in an attitude of gratitude, to say thank you more often, and to encourage others to discover the incredible joy of living both "on a journey" and, at the same time, "at home" in God. Henri Nouwen says we can be "at home on the journey" -- or something to that effect. Don Postema, author of Space for God," says this simply means affirming -- every day, every hour, every moment -- that "I belong to God." Or, as I learned in catechism classes, that "I belong... body and soul... in life and in death... to my faithful Savior Jesus Christ..." who loves me to the uttermost.

How did I get so theological all of a sudden? Sorry if that caught you by surprise. I think what really prompted it was thinking about all the things I am thankful for! Making that list is an easy exercise on the eve of August 7, the date -- 15 years ago -- when I married the beautiful woman who makes me happier than I could ever deserve.