About two years ago I expressed the following here “for me Lent is not a time to give up, but rather a time to do more. It is a time to grow in my faith, a time to grow my devotional life, and this year also a time to start taking better care of my body, mind, and spirit.” So I challenge myself here and now in front of all of you who read these words, to do just that. I will seek to find time to take Sabbath each week, it may not always be a full day as between work and my ministerial and pastoral duties I don’t always have that option, but I will set aside a bit of each week as Sabbath. I will reenergize my personal mediation, prayer and reflection life. I will be willing to risk, to try new things, to be open and vulnerable to the Holy, others, and myself.

I will start my adventure of lent with full day of Sabbath, the first such day I have had in a very long time. Throughout this period of time I will seek guidance for myself and the future, I will reflect and prepare myself to be open to the Holy for life, for pastoral and ministerial  roles, and for my role as a delegate to the 2010 World Conference.

So I ask of you today, for those who Lent is part of your experience…. How will you do more this Lent? If you are one who gives up things, how will the giving up of something aid you in growing your discipleship? How will it aid you in your response to share the Peace of Christ to all of creation?

Well, I’m off to prepare for the Resurrection that was, is, and yet to be and also my journey to share with the Saints in conference assembled.

Peace,

Her cat, Marmalade had just given birth to a kitten. I would go into her room and see this little new born kitten, and would stay up for a bit until the next kitten was born. This cute little kitten I watched being birth had orange fir, similar to her mother, and was smaller than the first one. Afterwards I would go to sleep, and another kitten would be born. The oldest and the youngest both had creamish hair, the middle one was the only one with orange hair and she was also the runt of the littler of three. As the days and weeks went on these kittens would open their eyes, would grow and would start to explore. That little orange kitten would travel from my sister’s room and into mine on her first outing, her brother and sister would travel across as well at times. They would climb up my bed and slide down it back to the floor as well. But that orange kitten from day one was special, she and I bonded from the start. I became her person. I can remember the joy in my heart the day I came home and learned my parents had figured out I could keep her rather than have to give her away. I gave her the name Tiger, and with the advice of my sister would give her the middle name of Lilly.

Over the next few years we would have wonderful adventures together,as she hunted, as we moved, as she gave birth to her four kittens… She took care of me, watched out for me as I grew up. I watched as she and our large dog Keisha worked together. I watched her teach other cats about hunting, watched as she became the queen kitty. Watched the dog opening the screen door to let her out when we lived in Casper, WY.  In 6th grade while living at my grandparents house she lived in the garage, and one day I came home to learn she had been sleeping on the garage door and when it had been lowered it pinched her back. The vet was not optimistic that she would ever be able to walk with her rear legs, but it didn’t seem to stop Tiger, at times I would find her on the other side of the house laying in the sunshine. Over time she would heal and walk and jump like normal, and few would have known she once had her spine pinched, the main sign being a sore spot she occasionally would yelp about when petted or combed.

When I went away to collage in 2000, I went with multiple pillows, one of which was her’s and rarely did I ever use it, usually it laid on the bed next to mine, as a reminder of her, and I cherished the times I was home with family, including her. Even though she became mouthy during those times I was away.  How she would yelp my name, yes my name when given a bath by someone. It is the only time she ever makes a vocal sound that starts with a l like sound, it is so different and unique from the rest of her kitty vocabulary.

After college we would be together again, would move to Seattle together, where she would watch for me at times in the window, and she showed signs of being aware of my illness as I got worse and worse. I also remember being a bit scared when she started having seizures during this time in Seattle, not often but occasionally. Back to Oregon, as I healed and then we moved to Ohio together. Still she was vibrant and full of life. However when I moved up to the Kirtland area she and I took a plane trip back to Oregon, where she would stay as my housing would not allow her to be with me. as I’ve visited a few times, it was always a joy to be with her, to see how she got along with my parents  dog that they got after Keisha passed in my freshman year, how she maintained her queen status over all. When talking to my parents, how if she was near and heard my voice would often either speak up or start purring. 

So often I’ve wished I could hold that little 7 to 8 pound bundle of love, to listen to her purr me to sleep. Especially when I am down, or when not feeling well. Friday, my parents called me. She wasn’t doing so well, the vet thought perhaps a stroke. She hasn’t been eating much either of late, partly due to her pickiness.  My dad noticed she looked similar to how she does when she is having a seizure, well after the worse of it is over, the way her eyes were. Her legs, well mainly one of the back not moving well, she could get down off of things but not on. he had taken her to the vet, and they hydrated her.  She still taking some food, but her weight is down, two days later my dad says she’s just laying around, still not able to get up, her eyes never fully returning,  she gets upset as she goes on her self not being able to make it to the box. (She’s always been a very finicky and picky cat regarding her appearance, always kept herself extremely clean. I can just image how hard that must be…) My mom thinks she is getting worse. Though when she heard my voice (they had me on speaker phone) she peaked up and started purring.  It looks though that after an amazing 21 years 4 months and a few days, it is time for us to part paths on this earth. Though she has not yet been put down, we made the decision to let her find that eternal rest she so deserves.

I’ll miss my moma cat, even more than I do now. Most of my life she’s been there watching out for me, and I there for her. At least she’s not in pain they say, but I know it must not be good for her. Just yesterday was the memorial service for a man who was like a grandpa to me that I was unable to attend, and now another loved one, this one with fir rather than hair, will leave me to, neither was I able to give that final personal in person goodbye to while knowing it would be the last time.

I may add some pictures of her tomorrow to this post…  I miss Bob already, and in the coming days shall miss my fury four legged companion  Tiger, as well, and am thankful and grateful for all they have been to me in my lifetime.

UPDATE

I just received news from my dad. Over the night she has made great strides and her eyes are once more responsive to light, and while limping a bit, she is walking again and using the leg she was struggling with before, and she is being more herself. So hopefully this trend of recovery continues and holds off her day of passing. My heart sings out with joy upon hearing the good news in the life of the little bundle of love and joy that has been a part of my life for the past 21 years. 2/8 1:51pm

Peace,

Lyle II

Be it a letter typed on a type writer from a wonderful older member of a congregation I was part of for just a brief time, or a hand written letter from my sister. There’s something special, something unique.  Wednesday on my way to work, I stopped and opened my mailbox, and within were a few items, one of which was addressed to me in the handwriting of my sister. The joy that came to me as I opened that letter, as I read her words in her own hand, was wonderful. The content of the letter brought me joy, and brought back memories. While surly she could have shared the same words in another written form, a form that would have brought them to my eyes even faster, there was something special, something extra by seeing it in her hand, about receiving it in the mail. I was blessed this week by that gift, I am glad for all our fast communication, but I think that letter if received as an e-mail, just would not have been quite as special. So today I give praise for that gift, and hope that we will never forget the power of a written, mailed letter. Or the power of sharing in conversation in person with someone. May there never be a day when we allow our instant communication over vast distances replace completely the wonders of slower personalized communication, or of being in the physical presence of one who we wish to communicate with. Now I must take the time to write to her, to share my joy, to share the smile she brought to my face.

Peace,