Simple love

Sometimes I rise as the light starts overtaking the darkness, donning sneakers and tights against the early morning cold. It isn't shorts weather yet.

Sometimes I get up a bit later after a sleep that is often fitful, worries suppressed during the workday that arise like vampires out of their tombs during the night hours.

I am not at my sprightly best in the early morning. I have to command my body to move, and sometimes it rebels. I leave running, and other activities that require thought, for later, when I will be propelled out the door by a need to shake off concerns that sneak in and eat away at my pioneer spirit.

But in the morning, eventually, my body catches up with my mind, and the stride kicks in, down my street where the neighbors ready themselves for the morning, across the road to the school, avoiding the barking dogs and finally to the "Mustang Mile," where runners and dog-walkers share the path.

Very quickly, almost thoughtlessly, I am on the road again, downhill, gravity impelling me past the white-washed farm houses, the developments set back from the road, the ponds, and the farms. A cluster of daffodils volunteer on the side of the road, two other dogs eyeball me from across the street, and horses stand meekly in the grass by the fence.

I take it all in. At home there are medical worries waiting for me, children with problems, food that sits uneaten in the refrigerator because it's too much trouble right now to cook, or even, often, to eat. I haven't been this thin since...I can't recall. I want my appetite back. I want contentment. I want tranquility.

So many wants.

Yet out here, for an hour or more, I am powerful. Out here, I am receptive to the buds and flowers, the life awakening and stretching in our lovely corner of Chester County -- out here, right now, I am blessed.

What shall I call this feeling? Why, it's love. A love for the unfurling universe around us -- for the specifics of this time and place. Knowing that, as I have known for a while, in moving here, I am at home.

And for now, in absence of certainty, or promises, or healing, I must allow that love to fill those broken, empty places.

Which is why I walk often, eyes wide open, lest I miss something wonderful.

Children of a lesser God?

I was trying to explain to my daughter why some of us treasure pre-natal life but believe in capital punishment, and some treasure life after he or she is born, but neatly divide life in the womb from being afterwards.

I gave up.

I guess the simplest thing to say is that I believe all life is sacred -- and I wrote this as a way of honoring the lives of women mostly forgotten by those of us with houses and families and the graces we take for granted.

May they have the peace in death they probably didn't have in life.

http://www.huffingtonpost.com/elizabeth-e-evans/at-the-heart-of-darkness_b_848415.html

A call for reform -- or a revolt?

Impelled by the ongoing sex abuse revelations that have put a powerful archdiocese on the defensive, this Philadelphia "mother's crusade" has just started -- where, if anyplace, will it lead? More silent defections from Catholic pews? Or a real reform movement? The jury is very much out.

http://blogs.reuters.com/faithworld/2011/04/08/guestview-trifecta-of-bad-news-launched-catholics4change-blog/

Another Rob Bell commentary...with a twist

Here's my take on the current controversy roiling (chiefly) the evangelical world over Rob Bell's new book, "Love Wins." Among some conservative evangelicals, Bell is being accused, basically, of selling out the Gospel.

But they aren't the only people raising objections -- a thoughtful review from Books and Culture's John Wilson can be found here.

What do you think of the book? What of the reaction? Feel free to have your say, world! ;-)

http://articles.lancasteronline.com/local/4/372668

"In a relationship"

I enjoy reading his status updates on Facebook.

He's a writer -- fiction with a noir twist.

I'm a writer -- features and opinions with an upbeat or a religion incline.

And never the twain will met.

Except that we did, one day, at a local mall, thanks only to a phone call from him.

Because I did something I've never done before to a potential date -- I forgot I'd made it.

And when he called, after waiting for me until a less polite person would have gotten up and left, I wanted to crawl into a cave somewhere. But I didn't. I hopped into my car and drove to the mall.

We weren't "meant to be" -- if there is a "meant to be." But I was impressed by his intelligence, his sense of humor, and the fact that he seemed, in spite of the subject matter of his novels, quite normal. Genuine. Hopefully, in spite of the religion-themed subject matter of my columns, I did, too.

Oh my goodness, a nice guy.

Today, as I idly scanned the status updates, I noticed that his had changed. He's gone from "single" to "in relationship."

Yippee, I want to yell. Good job, man! You beat the odds.

But I quietly checked "like" instead.

And as I did, I confessed to having a small pang of...well, not envy so much as wistfulness.

I sometimes wonder what it would feel like to be a moderate person in a relationship with a guy of the same temperament. To go for a walk in a state park with him on a Saturday morning. To eat bagels on the deck or watch a cable movie. To read (how old-fashioned) the Sunday newspapers and share pieces of it across the sofa. To talk to him last thing at night, just checking-in.

I don't know if that will ever happen for me. To this point, I haven't been willing to risk sinking in the acid bath of bitterness and drama that often accompanies guys (or women) on their trajectory out of a previous relationship.

I'm not sure how much, frankly, I'm willing to risk. There are downsides to being congenitally temperate, yanno.

It's not that I've ruled out magic -- but I still expect to find that little guy behind the curtain, making the thunder clap and steam shoot out.

A good guy, yes.

But a very bad wizard.

Bad things, good people

Boy, is this Huffington Post commentary getting a lot of attention.

It would be nice to hear from some theists, however.

http://www.huffingtonpost.com/elizabeth-e-evans/post_1823_b_834834.html

Pray like it's 300 A.D.

As a journalist, I'm intrigued by the fact that more and more young people are fleeing institutional Christianity.

As a pastor, I'm concerned that many churches, mired in arguments about sexuality and unable to address their questions in a meaningful way without going all trendy, are giving them good reasons.

At the Duke University Divinity School, helped by a grant from Lilly, the Youth Academy is trying to do something about that.

Comment and let us know how, and if, churches can invest in America's young people without sacrificing authenticity -- would the Duke model of prayer, reflection and service work in your community?

http://articles.lancasteronline.com/local/4/360705

And watch this channel for more fodder in the months to come!