knowledge is power

Knowledge is power-- I do believe. I know who I can go to when I need help with something. Brad keeps giving my points on baseball, as it's taking me years to learn the ins and out. My dad tells me how to fix things around the house. My mom helps me with cooking tips, history info, being good to myself. My brother Paul helps with my computer confusion and my brother Douglas with....geez almost anything, he's got an opinion on most things! And Liz and Laura are being treasures for mommying and being women in the workforce. And that's just my immediate family! I think from time to time how I'll manage when I don't have one of them to look to for help. There's so much comfort in knowing I have someone to call to help me out, to encourage and support me-- to be proud of me and give me challenge--to give me knowledge that makes me feel empowered to go about my business.
As we gear up to work with the homeless this summer at church, providing housing and meals every Friday night, I think about how they don't have this support system; someone to call for help in reading a legal document, someone who knows how to fix a leaky faucet, someone who knows what spices to add for the big Easter meal. I feel so grateful for my "knowledge base"--aka my family and friends.

Art

"Beauty" is such a limited word in our modern vocabulary and has lost its salt overtime. But there is something true about "beauty" that has nothing to do with manicured fingernails or yards... beauty that enlightens, moves the soul, touches us deep. I don't know if I have ever memorized a poem, I can't think of one offhand. So I'm going to give it a try. I have always admired people who know poetry.. so hear goes...feel free to ask me how it's going.

"I am Like a Kite" by Ellen Porter

I am like a kite
in the hands of God.

She runs with me
holding the string
and blowing
Her sweet breath
into my body
like bellows to fire.

I soar in the
dappled sky blue
laughing my utter delight

and wonder
what will become of me
if the Beloved
gets tired and
runs out of breath

unraveling

In high school I didn't like to wear the color black. The goths wore black, which I presumed their point was to look sinister and death-happy. I was a Christian and wanted to look light and airy. So I wore navy. However black truly is the bedrock of a good wardrobe and these days there is more black in my closet then any other color. In fact my husband will make a surprised face if I bring home anything blue.
For a few months now I've been thinking about darkness and light in the Bible. There are instances of God being discerned in both, but overwhelmingly as "light". Yet the God who can be found in darkness is tugging at me.
A few months ago I read Genesis to refresh my memory of my ancestors in faith. During Lent I read Exodus to help with our church study. And now I'm on to Leviticus which I have never read cover to cover. In lent there were all kinds of words used during our life as church that spoke of "moving out of darkness into the light." There was one song in particular in our Taize service that I couldn't sing because it had this motif (although I loved the Taize as a whole.) I asked myself if I was overreacting, overly sensitive.
I'm a morning person myself. I like the light, the first dawn. Never been much of a "night" person.
But when we still use terms like "Black" and "white" to describe people more often then "African-American" or "caucasion." And talk about the lightness or darkness of someone's skin. And when those same terms, dark and light, come up in our liturgy, even in the Bible, it's been like a thread unwinding in me, slowly but steadily, and I'm not sure what it's unraveling.