I could feel the heightened anticipation of our arrival into Big Sky as we drove along the highway from West Yellowstone which hugs the Gallatin River.  Certain bends in the road would awaken a memory or two shared with dear friends in this beautiful land of Montana.  Finally we made the turn into the entrance…

 

Just beyond the welcome banner there appeared two big horn sheep who were watching and waiting for our arrival!  And beautiful Lone Peak stood majestically against that bright blue sky.

 

I had imagined this moment so many times, yet still it took my breath away.  It always does!  Then a deep peace comes over me.  It’s the same…every time.

 

Our condo is like being in a tree house.  The deck is small and close.  On Sunday I preached again at Soldier’s Chapel.  Worship there is so special with a view of God’s creation out the window above the altar.  I love it there!  Sunday afternoon was spent with children who are experiencing cancer treatments and have been invited to Big Sky for a week of respite.  I think we all felt the healing beauty of God’s world as we played outdoors and decorated ball caps for precious bald heads.  Discouragement seemed to fly away on the laughter shared in a sunlit afternoon.

Words to the song echo in my heart….”His eye is on the sparrow, and I know He watches me.”  Together our souls are fed.  Thanks God!

nk

My favorite place on the journey to Big Sky, Montana was Mesa Verde, located in the southwest corner of Colorado.  I am not sure just how I got connected with this as a child, but I remember seeing pictures and I was fascinated and quite curious.  I wanted to crawl around and explore!  Finally I had the opportunity to visit there.  Come, enter this place with me…

We were told the journey down into the cliff dwellings would be strenuous, especially in 90 plus degree temperatures.  My adventurous side proclaimed loudly, “You have to do this!”  It was only an hour trip.  How could I not do it?  If you look closely in the photo below, you will see at the very top of the cliff  a group of persons standing.  That is where we began out descent into the Cliff Palace.

Down we trekked by narrow stone steps into the dwelling which 800 years ago was bustling with activity.  I wasn’t sure what to expect, but we were able to walk amidst the ancient village.  It was so awesome!

At one point we were invited to one by one peek into a narrow doorway, threshold into a room where an entire family would have lived.  The original wooden beams have allowed scientists to discern that construction spanned from AD 1209 through AD 1280.  Average life expectancy for males was 35, and females 25.  Family members were most likely buried in the same room.  Imagine that your roots were present beneath you, the strength of your ancestry!

My heart was drawn toward the circular area called the Kiva…

The Kiva was a gathering place for ceremonial and social times.  There was a place for a firepit, and the Kiva was submersed to protect the fire from the wind.  A chimney-like shaft drew in fresh air.  A small hole in the floor called a sipapu was believed to symbolize the entryway for the saints of their ancestry.  In my heart and mind I related this to our sacrament of Holy Communion where we believe that we experience the communion of the saints.  Although it is mysterious and beyond our full comprehension, we do believe this meal is something we share together both in this world and the next.  As I stood before the Kiva, I felt this.  I encountered a unity with these people of 800 years ago.  It was a powerful moment. I could have crawled into that Kiva with them!

The journey back to the top was a bit more strenuous than the journey down.

For a brief moment in time I felt like I was a part of this ancient community.  I loved it!  I am so grateful.

nk

Our journey to Montana continued to be a great adventure.  There was only one slight mishap.  I had condensed my cosmetics to very small bottles for the trip.   On one particular day, after a long 9 1/2 hour car ride, I was so tired.  I got things a little mixed up as I was getting ready for bed.  The bad news is….I accidently used mouthwash to clean my face. ( I thought I detected a familiar smell! )  The good news is….I did not gargle with face tonic! Whew.

Bill kept mentioning that we would be staying one night at a unique place, yet neither one of us knew anything about it.  When we arrived in Cortez, Colorado ready to visit Mesa Verde the following day, here is where we landed…

It should be a little suspicious when the only available motel for miles still has a vacancy.  Yet, behold!   There to greet us at the park bench was Elvis!

His eyes looked a little glazed over.  He may have been waiting for us quite a while.  I have learned that you never know where Elvis is going to appear.  Just count on the fact that you will be surprised!  I am not sure if he arrived in that little travel trailer  parked beside him, but he invited us to take a look inside.

 

What a delightful little abode of 50’s decor!  My almost 6 foot frame could barely stand up and lay down in that cubby hole.  I especially loved the little sign hanging on the wall.

I just smiled out loud!  I was hoping to get my kicks on this trip!

Upon checking in, we discovered that each room is assigned a different retro year.  We were given the keys to this door…

 

On the wall inside hung the poster of the big movie that year…one of my favorites!  A journey back in time always contains a significant moment or two.  I woke up in the middle of the night thinking about the different rooms of the Retro Inn.  What years are represented here?  What would it be like to enter each door?  What was the echo each one contained?  Then I began to focus on 1985.  What happened in my life in 1985?  Could I even remember?

I began to hopscotch around until I landed on 1985 and discovered the gold mine.  In  1985 I was a young Mom, working on the staff of a new fast growing church.  In June of that year I took a trip to the Holy Land and stood before the place of centuries of prayer called the Wailing Wall.  I had written on a piece of paper my prayer that God would use my life.  I rolled the paper up tightly and tucked it into the crevice of those ancient stones, hoping that this great God of all time would hear.

Then in October of 1985 I led a mission team to Haiti where we worked at a small school made of concrete blocks.  While sitting on the dirt floor I looked around and realized that each person on our team was using their talent, the gift God had given them…designing the furniture, teaching songs to the children, sewing buttons on clothes, etc.  “Wait a minute, God.  What is my gift?”   He showed me that I was the one who got them all here.  My job was done.  This huge joy entered my heart immediately!  I just wanted to come back, bring 12 more people and do it all over again!  Soon I began to understand that this was my call to ministry.

This was what happened in 1985.  This year was perhaps the most significant year of my life! At Retro Inn, this was the moment in time I was to enter once again.  I lay there, in the middle of the night, in wonder of it all.

nk

 

From the deep cobalt blue sky to the sunlit sienna architecture, the town of Santa Fe, New Mexico is quite colorful.  Come with me into a glimpse of this wonderful place…

 

Old Town dances with design around every corner and courtyard, on sidewalks, streets, and plazas.  It is all a feast for the eyes and imagination.  Two experiences stand out in my mind of this day in Santa Fe.  The first took place inside the Cathedral Basilica of St. Francis of Assisi.

The baptismal font is located in the center of the cathedral floor along with a pool so that a person from infancy to adulthood may be baptized by sprinkling, pouring, or immersion.  All these forms of baptism are present in the writings of the New Testament.

 

I watched persons entering the cathedral come to the baptismal font and touch the water.  They would place the droplets upon their forehead, make the sign of the cross, or splash slightly with their hands, experiencing the holiness of the water and the moment.  One young man totally wrapped his arms around the large bowl, embracing the grace of God with a full bodied expression of awe as he lifted his face toward Heaven.  That moment is forever embedded in my memory.  If you look closely you can see the water bubbling up in the center of the font.  Recalling the words of Jesus, “I am the living water”, the reality of the ever present Spirit of God is very much alive, always.  Clearly this young man knew!

I saw in my mind a baptism there, with all the people of faith circled around.  A child of any age is present to receive the gift of God’s grace.  The church family is asked, “Will you surround this child with a community of love, that they may be nurtured in their faith and grow in the way that leads to life?”  Echoing within the walls, one voice of unity proclaims, “WE WILL”!  Love is poured out.

Later we found a very old restaurant called The Shed.  Many locals gather here as well as new folks.  We sat down for dinner, seated close to the bar in a very crowded room.  I looked up and looming large above us all was the Christ!  His arms reached out with redeeming love to embrace everyone.

Wow!  One would expect this massive work of art to be above an altar in a huge cathedral.  But here is the Christ right over the bar where all kinds of folks belly up.  I smiled.  Well, this would be Jesus.  And this is Santa Fe!

Just beyond the crucifix another piece of art on the wall caught my eye.  This dolled-up Angel chorus proclaims loudly their “Alleluias”.  Yes!  This too is Santa Fe, colorful community!

nk

My journey has begun once again to Big Sky, Montana for the summer of 2017.  First stop is San Angelo, located in West Texas, the place I call the home of my upbringing.  My roots are deeply planted in this soil.  When my feet step upon this land, there is always a connection in my heart and soul.  A part of me will always belong here.

I am staying with my friend Barbara whom I have known for over 50 years.  We share a love for art and writing, for the beauty of God’s creation, and an unending search for the deeper places of faith.  This photo is taken in back of her home which overlooks the city of San Angelo.  From my bedroom window I can look out at night and find the city lights of home calling to me.  They hold a huge part of my life in their memory.

I love Barbara’s paintings!  With her permission I share with you this watercolor, one of my favorites.

This trip I am struck with the realization that San Angelo is romantic in its own playful, almost whimsical sort of way.  It is the land of horned toads.  We used to play with these little animals when we were kids.  They originally got their name, I suppose, from their spiking thorned bodies, like a gelled short haircut.

At some poignant moment in time, the horned toad realized a new name, “Horny Toad”, and it stuck!  What a wonderful awakening that was.  We must not let this creature become extinct!

Then, there’s mistletoe.  Far from the magical existence of a single twig tied in a ribbon on Christmas Eve, in West Texas mistletoe grows in massive abundance on mesquite trees everywhere .  Wow!  Lots of kisses available most any time!  You can see large clumps of this plant hanging from the branches of this mesquite tree.

There simply exists a more down home “amore” among the tumblin’ tumbleweeds, prickly cactus, and sticker burrs.  Ah, such is West Texas!  I love this place.

nk

Most mornings I am out walking and usually focused on proceeding briskly, looking for how many miles I can clock in on my cell phone health app.  My mind may flit from one thing to another, then I talk to myself and to God with some sort of an ongoing conversation.

Yesterday I decided to slow down, take my time, wander off the beaten path and keep my eyes and ears wide open to whatever might appear along the way.  An unexpected light appeared which enticed me onto the “road less traveled”.

The morning skies are quite often incredibly dramatic and beautiful.  They make me think of the Italian masters and how they were able to paint the beauty of the skies.  Truly, “the heavens are telling the glory of God”!

The scene by the pond is so stilted that it’s perfection seems almost unreal.  Yet the reflection in the water is dancing with vibrancy.  It makes me wonder about the reflection of our own lives upon the world.  Perhaps it is far more exciting and influential than we might realize.  Oh yes, remember that we are created in the image of God!  Could God possibly be present somehow in the reflection of a human life?

Surprise!  Someone has walked this path before me and left their footprints.  Who is it that has made an impact on my life?  How is my life different because of them?

Remember your baptism!  The cleansing waters bring each child home to be embraced by the everlasting arms as God proclaims, “You are mine!”  Jump in!  Splash around!  Have fun in the joy of being loved so fully!

How could something so small, so incredibly fragile, be so perfectly formed?  Remember as children how a puff of our breath could send a dandelion flying into the wind?  Ah, life is delicate, and oh so brief in the winds of eternity.  Don’t take one moment for granted, Nancy.  Treasure this beautiful gift!  And be assured that many mysteries have “the answer blowing in the wind”.

Look closely.  You will see things you might never have imagined.  Find a new perspective.  Dive deep inside the beauty of creation.  Stand on your head.  New awakenings are present for each of us everyday.  “Become like a child”, Jesus said….”that is, if you want to enter the Kingdom of God!”

Life can be beautiful.  Come walk with me!

nk

 

 

One of the dearest persons in the world to me is my sister.  We have always been close and I think she would do just about anything for me.  Here we are, trying on some fun hats, sharing a memory…

Inside my bedroom was a large picture window that opened up to the world outside.  I loved having the curtains open to the night sky,  filled with wonder and adventure.  I especially liked the lightning flashing across the darkness.  It was magical in a way, like an explosion of fireworks filling the window, bringing the outside in.  I wasn’t afraid.  I loved it actually.  Anticipation immediately was aroused, awaiting the roar of thunder.  How could such a voice burst forth out of that sky?  It was wondrously wild.  I felt the power of God.

My sister shared this room with me.  It was an intimate experience that brought us close.  We shared whatever thoughts would pop into our minds, crazy ideas and spontaneous secrets kept only between the two of us and those matching twin beds.

One night I sent her on a mission.  She always did what I told her to do!  “Go get some brownies from the kitchen.  I’ll keep the lookout post!”  She bolted for the kitchen while I lay in my bed carefully listening.  Suddenly I heard the patter of too many feet approaching.  One set of small steps were running quickly, yet not so quietly.  I could hear the panic in their approach.  Another set of footprints came louder and larger, looming danger.  “What’s that in your pajama top?”, Mama proclaims.  “Oh, my tummy hurts”, my sister whimpered as she held the mound of brownies with both hands, hiding them under her shirt.  Mama promptly takes a look…”Your tummy is going to hurt! Certainly!”

Uh oh…Busted!  With my face buried in my pillow, my head turned toward the wall, I  held the moment with my breath, pretending to be asleep.

This old song by Roger Miller keeps running through my head…

“Thunder rollin’, lightnin’  flashin’….through the middle of it I go dashin’!  Goes to show, how far I’ll go for you…   If  you want me to!”

I love you my sister!

nk

In all its stillness, the air is very full out on the porch of Rivendell Writer’s Colony near Sewanee, Tennessee.  Atop the mountain this beautiful setting overlooks the deep narrow canyon called Lost Cove.  On this morning the sounds of nature bring a soft symphony embracing and dancing in the forest. So alive!  A beetle gives a sudden high-pitched drum roll, something like what you learn to do with your tongue when you try to learn to speak Spanish.  Birds sing melodiously, and others chirp a still, certain note.  My redbird sings in the forest somewhere, continuing to playfully elude me with only his call…not a glimpse yet of the flash of red.  I look, my eyes search, but the only red around is on my painted toes.  He knows.  He will appear at the right moment…close I hope!

Tall trees extend their branches, reaching out together to hold and embrace the world around.  Intertwined they make a beautiful design.  How long have they stood beside Lost Cove keeping watch?  Staid and steady, they sway only gently with the breeze.  I’m sure they have weathered many a storm.  Yet they still reach for the skies and have learned how to bend without breaking.

An earthen clay vessel sits ready on the table, it’s mouth open to the mountain air, ready to be filled.  The jar looks a bit worn.  But it’s beautiful that way actually, in the same way my grandmother’s hands were beautiful.  They both have much to express about life well lived.  The old pot sits atop the table so very still,  patiently awaiting its filling so that once again it can be poured out.  I especially love the reflection that falls across the glass upon which it sits.  The picture says that the clay jar does not sit alone.

It’s beautiful here in this moment.  I feel that I am being nourished, fed…my heart wide open.  I want to be down in the very base of Lost Cove.  I want to experience the fullness of its beauty way down deep , where still waters flow.  I want to know the depths of the cove’s intimacy.  It’s a long way down, but it’s the only way to fully know.  People come from many places to reach this mountain top and be found by Lost Cove, again and again and again.  Suddenly a squawking, wide-winged hawk soars above, surveying the terrain.  The bird’s voice proclaims quite loudly, “Lost can be beautiful in the arms of Creation!  Breathe deeply, and let yourself be fully present.  Ride the wind.  Receive the gift of this day!”

As the clouds of Heaven settle into Lost Cove for the night, the sun sets in glorious color.  Sweet dreams….you have been found!

nk

 

 

 

The past week has been overflowing with exuberant joy and love at my house!  Grandchildren leaped across the threshold with boundless energy eight days ago.  Moments raced by while time seemed to stand still, encapsulated in a treasure held in our hearts together.  The children boarded a plane this afternoon, soaring up and away into the heavens, leaving a trail of precious memories and a silence that is both empty and full.

The collage of photos provides a glimpse of the many moments….horseback riding, watching movies and the Astros baseball game, canoeing (turning it over twice), visiting the Zoo, dancing outside to loud music while still in PJ’s.  Painting t-shirts, playing on the playground, eating jelly beans and lucky charms cereal…and many more!

Goodbyes are never easy!  I almost feel guilty having so much fun during Lent.  Now I face the beginning of Holy Week wanting to experience the passion of Jesus.  Pondering this, I was suddenly struck with the realization that all this explosion of love allows me to more fully embrace the depth of the love of Christ.  This week he prepares to say goodbye to his friends.  He sits down to share his last supper with them.  “Now before the Feast of the Passover, when Jesus knew that his hour had come to depart out of this world to the Father, having loved his own who were in the world, he loved them to the end.” (John 13:1))

There is no greater love than what Jesus had for us!  This week is about opening ourselves to receive that love.  I think perhaps Jesus may be saying, “Just let me love you!”  It is out of that love that we are able to love each other.  Jesus’ last words of instruction were this…“A new commandment I give to you, that you love one another:  just as I have loved you, you also are to love one another.” (John 13:34).  

Holy Week is all about loving and being loved!

nk

 

Well, we are halfway through our journey of Lent.  How are you doing?  I have had a few days of backsliding, but I keep pushing forward toward Easter Day.  I have been in the process of filling 40 bags for Lent.  This involves cleaning out stuff to give away, decluttering, and creating space in my life.

I still have 20 bags to go!  No worries, really.  I have plenty I could and should give away.  It is good for me!

One day my husband announced that while I was getting my “rub down” he would make a trip to Costco.  I reacted immediately, ” My RUB DOWN!??”  He said, “Oh whatever that is you go get now and then.”  I thought for a minute.  “Do you mean my MASSAGE?”  Now I don’t think I have ever had the rub down he envisions from his athletic encounters, but I don’t picture it at all like my relaxing, aromatic, spa of bliss!

Feeling somewhat like a wet noodle, I returned home from my massage.  I slithered in through the back door, and “what to my wondering eyes should appear”…

THIRTY ROLES of toilet paper from Costco…such a deal!  There’s just two of us here…I hope that’s enough!  We certainly don’t want to run out during Lent!  Ahhh, but then I looked a little closer.  Sitting atop were 320 SHEETS of Bounce.  Now that puts a whole new perspective to the remaining days of Lent.  We will have a bounce in our step!  God surely has a sense of humor dealing with us fledglings.  We WILL get through Lent, by the grace of God!  Happy Trails!

nk