In His Presence

Still in Tumwater, we attend church with Nancy and Craig. As we walk through the doors of Evergreen Community Church, it’s immediately apparent that a lot is going on. A number of tables are set up around the perimeter with displays for sign-ups for various activities. From the ceiling hang signs directing people to nursery care, children’s rooms, and other places. There are several monitors in the corners showing what’s going on in the worship center, a huge auditorium with stage and musicians. The monitors also have an inset of what is on the large video screens. I notice the drums and guitars and fear that Tom will have trouble at this service. Loud, repetitive praise music is not his kind of worship.

As we walk through the doors into the worship center, the sound is as loud as I expected. We don’t know the first songs, and with only lyrics on the large screens, we can’t sing along. I think to all of the unfamiliar psalm settings we sing at the monastery, but with the musical notes printed we can follow confidently. As I sense Tom’s tension mounting, I reflect on what I have been reading. I remind myself that if I am finding God in myself in the quiet times, I am also trying to stay connected with Him in the busy times. With the volume and activity on stage, this is definitely a busy time. This is a time to remember that God is in these people and He is in this place.

I close my eyes and pray, “Lord, help me to be still in this place. Help me to be present to You. Unfold my resistance and let it slip away, so that I am fully present to you. Let me be present with the people here who seek to worship You.” Then I wait. I ignore the lyrics. I repeat, “Be still and know that I am God” and let the prayer diminish until I am focused on stillness. Then it happens, another brief moment out of time. I am fully present before God, and I weep. I cannot describe the feeling, but it is utter peace, utter fullness, utter rightness.

As I sense the rhythm of what is going on around me change, I open my eyes. We are singing a song I recognize, and I lift my voice in joyous communion with God’s people. I have experienced an important lesson: I can find God in an unfamiliar place.

Silver Falls

After the oiling of the icon, we leave for Silver Falls. It’s only a short hike down to the viewpoint for South Falls. We watch people walking the trail behind the falls and soon follow them. I even take a video clip of the rainbows created by the splashing water. The colors are so bright that it appears the falls are on fire.

We continue to North Falls, but there is no place to park so we turn back to Silverton. We have another delicious lunch at Thai Dish, where we ask Lisa to order for us. All wonderful new taste experiences for us.

Oiling the Icon

Today we are invited into Agatha Hall, otherwise known as “the studio,” to be part of the oiling of an icon as the opening exercise of the Intermediate/Advanced group of the Iconographic Institute. The icon is of “The Protecting Veil of the Mother of God,” three years in the making by the instructors, Mary and Kathy. It is a large piece, some 6 feet by 4 feet in dimension, laid flat on a table.

Mary explains that the “olifa,” or oiling, is the final stage in the writing of an icon, as she reminds us that icons are written, not painted. The oil is a mixture of linseed oil and stand oil. The warm liquid fills the room with its pungent aroma. A student pours a large pool of oil in the middle of the icon, and Mary begins to spread the oil across the surface of the icon with the edge of her hand. She invites those watching to help.

At 3:30 we return to watch Mary remove the oil. Tom holds the tray that catches the excess oil as it is pulled across the icon. Then begin the three days of tending the icon, rubbing extra oil into the dry spots, and waiting for the oil to be absorbed through the layers of pigment.

Mary explains that egg tempora sealed in this way is the most permanent painting medium, which is why the ancient icons retain their color to this day.

Work as Prayer

I give a lot of thought to how I can bring the experience of living in community with the sisters back to my daily life. Sr. Dorothy Jean gives me a tangible example. We have visitors who arrive just as the bell is rung for Noon Prayer. I invite them to join us in the chapel, and they accept. Afterwards, I ask Sister what I should do if there are people in the bookstore when the bell rings for prayer. She explains that she sees that serving them is her prayer at that time. As she explains, “I know that the community is praying for me.”

How will my work as a teacher be a prayer? How will I stay mindful of all that I am learning here at the monastery? I remember that I have the servant towel hanging at the back of my room. Teaching is my way of serving. May I do it with joy and love.

Vocation

Our day begins early, but Tom hasn’t slept well again. Usually I am the one with troubled or restless sleep. We talk about possible causes and solutions. We’ll just have to experiment.

I give a lot of thought to Fr. Alfonso’s book Discovering Your Personal Vocation. I keep noticing the phrase “Be still” in so many places in the psalms during our prayer times. Perhaps this is my personal vocation, the name by which God calls me. It seems so apt when I think about how busy I tend to be --- and how hard it is for me to say “no” to tasks. I don’t spend a lot of time being still. Yet the one day I was, sitting in the prayer group on Saturday, I experienced God in a new way.

Now it is if I KNOW, at an elemental level, that I am in God’s presence and that He is present in me. I could say before that I believed that God’s Holy Spirit was in me, but that day brought me a new awareness, a direct experience of His love and indwelling. Believing is different than knowing, at least for me. I have been trying to make a real part of my life that I am “a beloved child of God.” Now I have the moments of total communion to affirm me.

I understand why people who meditate and contemplate make time for this practice. It is a life-giving affirmation that God loves me enough to be with me always, and He wants to be present to me at all times. It’s I who let the busy-ness of life crowd Him out. I hope to find a way to bring this awareness back home with me so I can incorporate it in my Gilroy life.

Liturgy of the Hours

We rise to go to Morning Prayer at 6:30 a.m. on the weekdays. The service is a combination of plainsong chanting of the psalms appointed for the day, lectio continuo (a continuous reading from the Bible in short passages), the Magnificat, and prayers of intercession.

There is a pacing to the chant and prayers that at first seemed overly slow and awkward to us as newcomers, Now after a week, the measured rhythms give us time to relish each word, savor the sounds, and ponder the meaning of lines we speak or sing. There are always three psalms, following the order of the day established in the Rule of Benedict, with pauses in between to allow for reflection.

Immediately following at 7:00 a.m. is the Eucharist. Abbot Peter comes down from Mt. Angel Abbey every morning to celebrate the Mass. We begin with a hymn, prayers, readings from Scripture, passing of the peace, and the consecration of the bread and the wine. The intercessions are both read and offered from among those who gather, each petition ending with, “Let us prayer to the Lord.” We respond, “Lord, hear our prayer.”

Again, the pace is measured with time between the parts of the service for contemplation. As the days progress, I wonder how I will adjust to what may now seem a hurried race through the service at home.

As we take communion, the sisters bow before taking the host in their hands. Their reverence is palpable as we return to our seats in silence. After a period of reflection, a hymn follows communion. We are sent forth with the final blessing, fortified to do our work until lunch.

Noon prayer at 11:50 a.m. is a short service preceding lunch, with three chanted or spoken psalms, a short reading, and brief intercessions.

We gather for Evening Prayer at 5:00 p.m. It follows the familiar structure of Morning Prayer, with the appointed psalms and the Benedictus replacing the Magnificat. From there we go into dinner.

The day ends with Compline. The three psalms are constant, and even with the alternation of the responses, one side leading for the entire week, the other side leading the next. The sisters are so familiar with this nightly service that many recite it from memory. Most nights we end with Salve Regina, sung in Latin or occasionally in English. On Wednesdays, when we have Compline in the Bernadine Room, otherwise known as the sisters’ recreation room, Salve Regina is sung a capella, a gently close to the day.

Taffy

We finally reach Depoe Bay, a tiny slice of curio shops and candy stores. I am fascinated by the salt water taffy being pulled by machine, carefully tended by a young man who repeatedly lifts the mass of candy back onto the tines of the machine. As we watch, he first adds flavoring ---a touch of mint in the air---, then coloring ---a deep black. No, as the taffy is stretched, the color lightens to a bright kelly green. We purchase two large boxes of the famous caramel corn for the sisters, a small box for us and some taffy.

Back in Lincoln City, we look for a restaurant for dinner and decide on Kyllo’s on the beach. Of course, we must try the clam chowder and the marionberry cobbler along with our seafood choices, but neither is as good as Mo’s. We head back for Mt. Angel, and Tom’s excellent sense of direction gets us back through the maze of directions in reverse. We retire early, refreshed and ready for another day.

Yaquina Lighthouses

Walking through some of the shops, Tom finds a T-shirt he likes. Then I decide to look for a charm for my bracelet. We consult the map and head for the Yaquina Lighthouse. It is a small structure, and we elect not to climb the hill to go inside. Then we drive to Yaquina Head Lighthouse, perched on an outcropping from an ancient lava flow. As we walk around the structure, we see the offshore rocks covered with birds, mostly murres. As they swoop on and off the rocks, their raucous shrieks echo off the cliffside.

Further on, we stop at Cape Foulweather, so named by Captain Cook for his unfortunate experience there. From the heights, we gaze down on the Devil’s Punchbowl, a much better view than our stop at the park. As we walk around the gift shop, I look at the displays and find my mind returning to Shalom’s gift shop.

Cobbler Quest

For our 19th wedding anniversary, we drive to the Oregon coast. Each of the sisters that we meet at breakfast in the morning wishes us congratulations. They seem as pleased that we are traveling to the coast as if they were coming along. It promises to be a glorious day.

By the time we arrive at Lincoln City, we have traveled through miles of fertile farmland and dense woodland. Central Oregon is beautiful country, with a charm unlike the vast California agribusiness that now dominates our state. Contentment fills us as we listen to a lecture of Thomas Merton to his noviates back in Kentucky last century. When we finally park at Road’s End State Beach, we realize how tired we are and push back the seats in the car to nap.

We head south, with the town of Newport as our goal for lunch. The Oregon beaches are wide and smooth, the white sand stretching broadly between the cliffs and the surf. Here the rocks are well offshore with only a few visitors instead of teeming crowds. There is a leisurely peace around us, and I notice places we’ll want to visit on our return north.

Historic Newport is a short section of bayfront streets with shops and small restaurants. We have decided on Mo’s after multiple recommendations praise the clam chowder. We actually eat at Mo’s Annex, across the street from Original Mo’s. There is a shorter line and the windows face the water. The clam chowder is worth the wait. Then I spy the Marionberry Cobbler. We had learned earlier that the delicious marionberry was developed in Marion County where the Monastery is located, so of course we order some. Now I am determined to sample every marionberry cobbler I can. What a gourmet quest!

Iconography Institute

We are fortunate to be volunteering during the Iconography Institute. Taught by two women of Greek descent who were trained in France, the institute has been at the monastery for a few years since its move from the Abbey. Mary and Kathy graciously invite us to visit throughout the day the room where the class is working.

Mary explains that icons are written, not painted. They are to be a representation of the spiritual truth of the saint or person. To do this, the iconographers pray and listen to their heart. While each icon is to be a copy of a classical icon of Jesus Christ, we learn that through the prayer process, each icon will also reveal an aspect of the iconographer.

However, there is much work done before the first brush stroke. The geometry of the icon is studied to learn the classical structure of the traditional representation. Several cartoons are prepared of the underpainting to be transferred to the gessoed boards that are the base of the icon. In addition, the beginners learn to apply gesso by preparing the boards for the next year’s class. They learn techniques in selecting pigments and applying the egg tempera, lovingly mixed by hand.

Scholastica

We're staying in a single-wide mobile home trailer named Scholastica. It has two bedrooms, each with its own full bathroom, a complete kitchen and a living room. There's a beautiful clematis blooming right at our stairway.

We're hardly there except after Compline because we're either at prayers, meals, or working. In the evening we have been reading or talking with other volunteers or the sisters. It's been great to be here!

The Oregon Garden

After a delicious lunch at the Thai Dish in Silverton, we drive to The Oregon Garden. It’s less than ten years old, but the grounds are already lush with the many plantings. We ride the tram around the various gardens and then dismount to revisit the ones that catch our eye. I am taking dozens of photos and hope to find a scene to sketch. We take the Oak Grove trail and see the largest oak in the state. The guide said it’s being measured to see if it’s one of the largest in the world.

Back at the entrance, we stop for a snack, and I finally have a chance to draw. The landscape around the patio is a riotous display of plants and shrubs. I sketch quickly because I can tell that Tom is tiring. I’ll have to add color from the photo later.

We arrive at the monastery and join the community for dinner. Afterwards, Sr. Antoinette brings the memory book of the Nursing Center to share. She and Sr. Julia reminisce about their years when they lived at the center, even to the point of saying their daily office there. Sr. Antoinette tells how difficult it was for her to relinquish the administration of the center to the Sisters of Providence. She still goes back to visit both the nursing staff and residents.

Earlier I had told Sr. Antoinette that we were sorry that we would be missing her workshop on Thomas Merton and his poetry. Since it is scheduled for December, I know that it will be too difficult for us to get back for just a weekend. She offers to talk with us about what she will be covering. Since she and Merton are contemporaries, she feels an affinity for him and visits the nearby Trappist Abbey for regular sessions about him. We tell her the titles of some of the books we are reading, and she approves our choices.

Silverton

Again the sisters process into the chapel for Mass. It tugs at my heart to see them in their solemnity, repeating a ritual that for many of them has been a constant in their lives for decades. The many white-haired heads are punctuated with an occasional dark, underscoring the aging of the community.

There are more visitors present today. They are greeted warmly by the sisters. I wonder how many are graduates of the high school or college. After reading the most recent Reflections newsletters, I realize how deep-rooted the monastery is in the life of the surrounding community. From reading or hearing the biographies of the nuns, I know that the local towns are where many grew up or went to school.

Following Mass, we drive to Silverton, stopping at the Gallon House Covered Bridge on the way. It’s set among fields of hops and strawberries. There is a multi-generational family stooping to pick the ripe red fruit. In the distance, the Abbey is visible through the trees on its mount.

Silverton is a quaint town of under 10,000 people. Many of the shops are closed on Sunday, a reminder of my childhood when most merchants kept the Sabbath. We stroll through a shop of collectables and antiques, and I find a vintage bracelet in the style of modern Italian charm bracelets. Tom encourages me to buy it, and I wear it out of the shop.

The Sitting

I find myself at a loss for words to describe my experience during the retreat. As time passes, the hesitancy may ease. At this moment I can only say that it was a profound and moving experience, to the point of tears of joy. Over the course of the day, we sat for two sittings in the morning and another two in the afternoon. Tom was able to be there for the final two.

Later in the evening, we try to talk about the prayer time. Tom is more articulate, able to compare his private times at home with today’s corporate retreat. Ginny is right that there is a tangible power that is released when a group is gathered together in prayer.

Be Still

The excerpt from today’s Psalms 37 begins with the line, “Be still before the Lord and wait for him with patience.” It strikes a chord deep within me. I am reminded of another line from Psalm 46, “Be still, and know that I am God.” I ponder the meaning of this phrase resonating so strongly, and I expect that it will be revealed in time.

Tom has arranged with Sr. Mechtilde to be at the beginning of the Prayer of the Heart retreat. We join the circle of women already gathered in the Oblates Room. Sr. Dorothy lights the candle and we introduce ourselves. There are as many people new to the practices as there are regular attendees.

We learn that this prayer practice predates the time of Christ. Sister explains that it is similar to the Centering Prayer that Tom has started with the guidance of the writings of Thomas Keating, Basil Pennington, and Cynthia Bourgeault. Before we begin, Ginny shares about her recent trip to Egypt, Jordan, and the Holy Land. She is an Oblate of the Monastery, and her reverence for her experiences is deep. We and one other woman have been to the Holy Land, and we understand her feelings.

After Tom leaves to help prepare lunch, Sr. Dorothy rings the bell for the first “sitting.” This is how she refers to the 25 minutes we will sit in silence, still and expectant, waiting on the Lord.

Queen of Angels

Today begins our first full day at Queen of Angels. We rise early for Morning Prayer at 6:30. Mass follows at 7:00, and we join the community for breakfast afterwards. Sr. Marietta has asked to meet with us at 8:30 to give us an orientation and our assignments. I am to help at Shalom Prayer Center in the office, and Tom is to report to Sr. Teresa to work on the grounds unless Sr. Mechtilde needs him to help in the kitchen.

When I arrive at Shalom, Sr. Dorothy Jean is in a meeting, so she asks Sr. Hilda to show me how to answer the phone and use the copy machine. I do the few tasks she has set, and already I am making out receipts for items purchased in the Gift Store.

Over the course of the morning, I empty a refrigerator of Monastery Mustard so new display shelves can be brought in, rearrange the rosary display to give the items more prominence, sort through donated volumes for the used book section, and begin the tedious task of cutting labels of Sr. Dorothy Jean’s email address into tiny lines to cover up the old email on her business cards. There’s half a box to do, and I get through half of that in the lulls between other work.

I go to Noon prayer, but Tom doesn’t come. When I go into the dining hall for lunch, I learn that he has been in the kitchen all morning. As I go through the food line, he is at the stove, grilling quesadillas. We eat together and then return to our separate assignments.

In the afternoon, I get to know Sr. Gertrude better. She is responsible for the business arrangements for the retreats and other groups using Shalom Prayer Center. She has arranged the mustard and jams on the new shelve unit, and I get my laptop to design new labels for the shelves. I man the office solo while the nuns have a party for one of the sisters.

Tom comes over during his break. He begins a tab in the Gift Shop after I point out some titles I think he will like. He gets The Cloud of Unknowing and Thomas Keating’s Open Mind, Open Heart. Then Sr. Julia wants to make a call to the main house, but I don’t know how. She thinks I’m the new receptionist, but I tell her that it’s my first day. Together we figure out how to connect her call. I end the day by labeling the shelves. On Monday, I will begin to organize and label the Used Book section at Sr. Dorothy Jean’s request.

Tomorrow there is a retreat that Sr. Dorothy Jean suggested I might like to attend. She encourages me to talk with Sr. Dorothy. She explains that this is a monthly meeting for “Prayer of the Heart,” an ancient prayer practice that is similar to Centering Prayer. Tom has been doing Centering Prayer in the mornings after reading about it. We are both interested and plan to attend.

Mt. Angel

We arrive at Mt. Angel in the early afternoon and advised to rest from the trip and get acquainted with the monastery grounds.

We walk in the town center and sit on a bench to wait for the Glockenspiel to play. We are told that all of the recordings are made locally for the figures on the rotating stage. For the native American, there is chanting. The Virginia Reel plays for the pioneer couple, and an Oktoberfest musician belts out an oompah tune. For the monk, the Abbey choir is singing a Gregorian chant, and for the nun, the sisters of Queen of Angels are singing Salve Regina. As the boy and girl come forward on their swing, the children of a Mt. Angel school sing Eidelweiss and end in giggles.

Cave Junction 2

Yesterday was a quiet, restful day spent chatting, walking around Bill's incredible garden, taking Cathy's cat to the vet, and some shopping in town. In the evening, we stood at the kitchen window and watched a deer graze in the grass just yards away.

Today is a tour of a neighbor's new house and a trip to local wineries, one owned by friends just down the road.

Tomorrow it's off to Mt. Angel and the beginning of our month there.

Cave Junction

Today is a wonderful day of relaxing and sketching. Truly a vacation!

Bill barbecues chicken, and we chat and laugh and reminisce.

Mt. Shasta and Traveling

We left Redding after a hearty breakfast at Lumberman Jack's Restaurant. An uneventful drive brought us to Lake Shasta. Mt. Shasta itself is a marvel, rising above the valley and still dusted with snow.

As we drove, I read from a book that Marie, our spiritual director, had loaned us, How to Discover Your Personal Vocation: The Search for Meaning in the Spiritual Exercises, by Herbert Alphonso, S. J. (Society of Jesus, the "Jesuits"). The Spiritual Exercises he references are a thirty-day prayer regimen that has as its goal "the seeking and finding of God's will in the arrangements or ordering or orientation of my life (= la disposicion de mi vida) for salvation. (p. 7)

In my understanding the idea of a personal vocation uses the Latin root vocare to mean a calling, as in "God has called you by name." Fr. Alphonso had been a spiritual director for over thirty-five years when he wrote the book and, through his experiences in his own life and with other people, he came to understand the importance of a person understanding and living in accordance with his/her personal calling, or personal vocation as he termed it.

As I digest the few but pithy points of this very small yet powerful tome, I will be looking for connections between them and my experiences this summer.

Sundial Bridge

We left the Bay Area after church, stopping at The Olive Pit to sample exotic combinations of flavors. Later we checked into our motel in Redding.

After dinner, we drove to Turtle Bay Park to walk across the Sacramento River on the Sundial Bridge. It was dusk, with the sun slipping behind the trees. Tom and I sat and sketched in the fading light. The bridge is an amazing structure, designed by the same architect who did the Millennium Bridge across the Thames in London.

We're Off!

They've seen the signs: sorting, packing, setting out a whole case of dog food. Now we've left our furry ones at home. Patches and Ziggy don't look happy, do they?

I'm so glad I figured out how to add pictures to the blog. Now I can share photos of where we've been and even include sketches.

HI

I'm now a fully vetted member of the Blog Team.

Tom

Uploading

I'm determined to learn how to upload photos. That way I'll be able to record even more of our experiences.

I've still got to figure out why some people can't access the blog. Ah, technology. What a challenge!

Lilies of the Field

Today was NOT a "lilies of the field" day. Instead, I was rushing around trying to wash clothes, remember everything to pack, get art supplies ready --- altogether exhausting myself between the 8:30 hair appointment and the 12:30 lunch date with my mother and aunt. Then it was off to visit out-of-town family and the first hour of grandson Jakob's fourth birthday party. I wish I could say that the day ended with a Food & Fellowship dinner with two other couples, but tonight there is the packing to finish, send out the itinerary, and update the email list. Tom is anxious to get the car packed, so I'm off to help with that.

Definitely NOT a day of resting in the Lord, taking things one at a time and trusting that all will be well. In spite of knowing that much of what consumed my day was dross, I couldn't put down the sense of being burdened and hurried. I seek His kingdom and still wander off on side paths.

School's Out!

Today was the last day of school. A minimum day with 11:30 dismissal, it was a full morning. We joined the fifth grade classes for their "Farewell Ceremony" recognizing their promotion to middle school. Then back to our classroom for a video on space, brunch at 10:30, another video on weather accompanied by desk cleaning, and finally dismissal with report cards in hand and a gift book The School Mouse from me.

Most of the school staff got together for lunch at a local restaurant. There was a wonderful sense of community. We were off duty, released for the summer, yet we wanted to linger, enjoy being in each other's company. That's a change for our staff --- finding ways to extend our time together. It shows in other ways, too. There's already a group planning to hike together next week. I'll be in Oregon, but I'll be thinking of them.

Since sending invitations to join the blog list, I've had lots of responses and more questions about our plans. For many people, we're really stepping out beyond their expectations. I seem to sense almost a tinge of envy --- that we're actually doing something people often say interests them. It has taken a new level of commitment from us to give up our summer income and work for the satisfaction of doing what's needed by others, to give ourselves over to someone else's plan for us. It's taking trust with a capital "T"!

The Summons

Last Sunday was a powerful experience. As Tom and I sat in the choir loft, we joined the congregation in singing "The Summons" by John L. Bell of the Iona Community

1.
Will you come and follow me
If I but call your name?
Will you go where you don’t know
And never be the same?
Will you let my love be shown,
Will you let my name be known,
Will you let my life be grown
In you and you in me?

We keep talking to each other about our sense of call, this pull to be in a different kind of prayer and service. We ask ourselves how far we're willing to go, how much out of our comfort zone we could venture, in answer to the call.

As the words of the song come to life inside me, tears well up. Tiny frissons dance up my skin as I sing and pray. I glance behind me at Tom, and I can see that he is also affected by the lyrics. In what ways will we change this summer? How much growth will I allow?

2.
Will you leave yourself behind
If I but call your name?
Will you care for cruel and kind
And never be the same?
Will you risk the hostile stare
Should your life attract or scare?
Will you let me answer prayer
In you and you in me?

As we read a variety of books and listen to tapes and watch videos, Tom and I are being challenged to step beyond our small "i" ego and open ourselves to the big "I" of communion with God in a transformed way. Are we really willing to care for anybody --- cruel or kind?

This time when I look at Tom, I catch his eye. He gulps and ceases to sing for a moment. We are both caught up in the magnitude of how we are saying "yes" to so much uncertainty while at the same time certain that God will not ask more than He will help us to become.

3.
Will you let the blinded see
If I but call your name?
Will you set the pris’ners free
And never be the same?
Will you kiss the leper clean,
And do such as this unseen,
And admit to what I mean
In you and you in me?

We're off to serve at Queen of Angels Monastery. We'll be there in less than a week. How will we be asked to serve? Will I shrink from loving any of God's children? Will I embrace the unloved and unlovely? I trust that God will grant me the grace to do all He asks.

As the tears stream down my face, I notice another singer's worried look. I whisper to her, "We're leaving for the monastery in a week." She nods at me in acknowledgement and we both resume singing.

4.
Will you love the ‘you’ you hide
If I but call your name?
Will you quell the fear inside
And never be the same?
Will you use the faith you’ve found
To reshape the world around,
Through my sight and touch and sound
In you and you in me?

Back to the tension between the false self and the true self. Will I let God touch all parts of me? Will I let His light and love transform the egocentric being I am most of the time into someone who can walk in faith?

Pastor Anita looks my way and sees the tears. She looks at Tom and then inclines her head with a slight smile, aware of the deep emotion welling up in us both.

5.
Lord, your summons echoes true
When you but call my name.
Let me turn and follow you
And never be the same.
In your company I’ll go
Where your love and footsteps show.
Thus I’ll move and live and grow
In you and you in me.

Tom and I have been looking forward with great anticipation to our month with the Benedictine Sisters. I've been teasing him for the last few weeks that he would have left for Oregon long ago if it weren't for our teaching commitments.

As the last chords of the music fade, I am light-headed and cleansed, as if the searing emotion and tears have left an open space inside me that gently fills with peace and surety, for me a clear sign that I have been in communion with God.

Cobbler Quest

For our 19th wedding anniversary, we drive to the Oregon coast. Each of the sisters that we meet at breakfast in the morning wishes us congratulations. They seem as pleased that we are traveling to the coast as if they were coming along. It promises to be a glorious day.
By the time we arrive at Lincoln City, we have traveled through miles of fertile farmland and dense woodland. Central Oregon is beautiful country, with a charm unlike the vast California agribusiness that now dominates our state. Contentment fills us as we listen to a lecture of Thomas Merton to his noviates back in Kentucky last century. When we finally park at Road’s End State Beach, we realize how tired we are and push back the seats in the car to nap.
We head south, with the town of Newport as our goal for lunch. The Oregon beaches are wide and smooth, the white sand stretching broadly between the cliffs and the surf. Here the rocks are well offshore with only a few visitors instead of teeming crowds. There is a leisurely peace around us, and I notice places we’ll want to visit on our return north.
Historic Newport is a short section of bayfront streets with shops and small restaurants. We have decided on Mo’s after multiple recommendations praise the clam chowder. We actually eat at Mo’s Annex, across the street from Original Mo’s. There is a shorter line and the windows face the water. The clam chowder is worth the wait. Then I spy the Marionberry Cobbler. We had learned earlier that the delicious marionberry was developed in Marion County where the Monastery is located, so of course we order some. Now I am determined to sample every marionberry cobbler I can. What a gourmet quest!
Walking through some of the shops, Tom finds a T-shirt he likes. Then I decide to look for a charm for my bracelet. We consult the map and head for the Yakina Lighthouse. It is a small structure, and we elect not to climb the hill to go inside. Then we drive to Yakima Head Lighthouse, perched on an outcropping from an ancient lava flow. As we walk around the structure, we see the offshore rocks covered with birds, mostly murres. As they swoop on and off the rocks, their raucous shrieks echo off the Cliffside.
Further on, we stop at Cape Foulweather, so named by Captain Cook for his unfortunate experience there. From the heights, we gaze down on the Devil’s Punchbowl, a much better view than our stop at the park. As we walk around the gift shop, I look at the displays and find my mind returning to Shalom’s gift shop.
We finally reach Depoe Bay, a tiny slice of curio shops and candy stores. I am fascinated by the sat water taffy being pulled by machine, carefully tended by a young man who repeatedly lifts the mass of candy back onto the tines of the machine.. As we watch, he adds first flavoring ---a touch of mint in the air---, then coloring ---a deep black. No, as the taffy is stretched, the color lightens to a bright kelly green. We purchase two large boxes of the famous caramel corn for the sisters, a small box for us and some taffy.
Back in Lincoln City, we look for a restaurant for dinner and decide on Kyllo’s on the beach. Of course, we must try the clam chowder and the marionberry cobbler along with our seafood choices, but neither as good as Mo’s. We head back for Mt. Angel, and Tom’s excellent sense of direction gets us back through the maze of directions in reverse. We retire early, refreshed and ready for another day.

Sunday's Presentation

Last Sunday, May 25, I gave a Temple Talk at church. Here is the text:

PRAYER AND SERVICE

For the last ten years I have worked most of the sultry weeks of summer. This year, Tom and I will spend a month in a new kind of prayer and service, living at Queen of Angels Monastery with the Benedictine Sisters in the cool foothills of Mt. Angel, Oregon. Tom and I have been considering long-term ministry service once I retire from full-time teaching, and this is our first baby step of living outside our comfort zone.

We’re not going into this blindly, but with joyful anticipation. We made a short stop at the Monastery in February for a tour and lunch. We saw the room at the guest house where we’ll be staying, and, every time we were introduced to one of the sisters, we were recruited to work with their particular ministry.

People ask us what we will be doing, and we answer honestly, “Whatever we’re asked to do.” It could be anything. There is a retreat center on the grounds and help is always needed in setting up for meetings and sessions, readying the rooms for occupancy, and cooking for the guests as well as the residents. There’s canning of the summer harvest grown in the orchards, as well as caring for the grounds. There’s even an infirmary for the nuns.

The Monastery also has a shelter that ministers to the homeless, migrant farm workers and their families, with tutoring, ESL classes and a computer lab. Mission boxes need to be prepared and the gift shop staffed. The librarian has already asked Tom to stay for five years to catalog their library once she found out he had worked at the county library after retirement.

As we prepare for this summer, we’d like to offer you an opportunity to share in this work. We don’t need financial support for our participation, but we would love to bring a donation from the congregation for the work of the Benedictine Sisters. Please consider making a contribution.

As always, we ask for your prayers.

Judith Dunham