Telling the Truth

connecting the dots of my life

Category: Spiritual Formation

October 26, 2017

The canvas of our dreams

The canvas of our dreams
Writ deep in hazy memories
Unfurls a Master Narrative
Embraced with godly fervor

Layer upon layer added thereto
Fills in once empty gaps
With stuff of dreams and whiffs of smoke
The snake oil of deceivers

Here, drink to this and drink to that!
We’ve always been the greatest
Just raise your glass and repeat with me
Our mantra of salvation –
Then head right to your voting booth
And punch for victory!

In the opening pages of his monumental history of multicultural America, Ronald Takaki defines what he calls “the Master Narrative of American History.”

According to this powerful and popular but inaccurate story, our country was settled by European immigrants, and Americans are white. ‘Race,’ observed Toni Morrison, has functioned as a ‘metaphor’ necessary to the ‘construction of Americanness’: in the creation of our national identity, ‘American’ has been defined as ‘white.’ Not to be ‘white’ is to be designated as the ‘Other’ – different, inferior, and unassimilable.

Ronald Takaki, A Different Mirror: A History of Multicultural America (Little, Brown and Company, 2008 edition, p. 4)
Toni Morrison, Playing in the Dark: Whiteness in the Literary Imagination (Cambridge, Mass., 1992, p. 47)

This rules out groups such as those Takaki focuses on in his book: Native Americans, African Americans, Asian Americans, Irish Americans, Jewish Americans, Mexican Americans, and Muslim Americans.

The only way to fight surreal snake oil is with knowledge and committed resistance to the purveyors of snake oil.

As a highly persistent woman, I am yet again highly recommending this book. Even though you may not make it through all 445 pages, you’ll find a goldmine of correctives to our current misguided, surreal national obsession with who’s really ‘American.’

Cheers to all my neighbors, near and far. We’re in this together–even when it seems we’re not.
Elouise♥

© Elouise Renich Fraser, 26 October 2017
Image found at hallidaysutherland.files.wordpress.com
Daily Prompt: Surreal

8 Comments
October 21, 2017

Great Expectations | Photos

By whose expectations do we live? This post from two years ago, lightly edited, is still relevant, particularly in light of current political and global realities. In September 2015 D and I were on a grand 50th wedding anniversary trip, driving through Scotland. Which more than exceeded our expectations–in every way! But that’s another topic.

D took the photo above in Edinburgh, directly behind the Sir Walter Scott Monument. We’re looking down into the East Princes Street Gardens. Notice the benches. They line the sidewalk from one end to the other. Each bench includes a plaque to honor an everyday person or family member(s) now deceased yet remembered warmly by friends and relatives.

The plaque below caught my attention and made me laugh and smile. How did the Rev Alan B. Cameron MA BD STM, the piping hot Scot ‘prove Romans 8’? I don’t know, but his life of faithful generosity made an impression. Perhaps despite great trials?

Above the Gardens looms the huge Edinburgh Castle and grounds. It’s packed with tributes on stone plaques. The plaque below stood out to me. Though it isn’t small or simple, the words describing Mary of Lorraine are human-size, even though she was “Queen of James V, Mother of Mary Queen of Scots and Regent of Scotland from 1554-1560.” I’m taken by the warm tribute to her character and behavior. Perhaps Mary of Lorraine was related to Rev. Alan B. Cameron, “the piping hot Scot?”


Finally, we have a different kind of tribute in the outer wall of the Edinburgh Castle, overlooking the city.  These aren’t to human soldiers, but to their faithful canine companions. I can make out three of the dogs’ names on the gravestones–Scamp, Tinker, and Feora (?) who was a Band Pet. Even though I’m a cat lover, my heart melted.

Faithful. That’s what I want to be. Not faithful to others’ expectations of me, but faithful to God as one of God’s beloved daughters and sons. I’m drawn to the simplicity of the tributes above. In the end, it’s all about faithfulness–to God, to oneself and to others. Including the faithful bond between human beings and their canine (and feline!) companions.

© Elouise Renich Fraser, published on 23 September 2015 as Small Signs of Faithful Lives | Photos; edited and reposted 21 October 2016
Photo credit: DAFraser, September 2015 in Edinburgh, Scotland
Daily Prompt: Expect

17 Comments
October 20, 2017

Moments

Death
Sudden release
Followed by startled grief
Most deeply felt
In waves

Calm
Release of pain
Blood pressure dropping
To a measurable
Sum

Joy
Knocks at my door
Sweeps emptiness aside
For a shining moment
Lingering

Peace
Unannounced
Arrives on the doorstep
Of my heart
Singing

© Elouise Renich Fraser, 20 October 2017
Photo found at heartwrittenwords.com
 Daily Prompt: Release

15 Comments
October 19, 2017

How I set my table


As few utensils as possible
More than enough room for everyone
More than enough food for everyone
No pre-ordained seats for the chosen
No reserved seats for the religiously correct
No throne at the head of the table
No place-cards for the righteous few
No special utensils for the wealthy
No printed program at each place
Just a welcome sign of hospitality

Back in the early 1970s, when I was beginning my theological training, the term ‘evangelical’ was in the air. Many conservative Christians saw this as a dangerous distortion of the Gospel.

I saw it as Christianity focused on difficult issues such as poverty, social justice, racism and sexism. Not just praying about them, but marching in protests and becoming part of local efforts to raise awareness and push for change.

I knew I’d found a home. Nonetheless, after identifying myself as an evangelical Christian, some judged me as a betrayer of true Christian faith.

Back then, evangelical Christians also reached out to other denominations and faith-based organizations to maximize their impact on issues of common concern. This meant we were ecumenical. An additional betrayal of ‘true’ Christian faith.

Times have changed. The press and some Evangelicals have politicized the term over the years. We who are not part of the religious right wince when we hear ‘Evangelicals’ used in political discourse.

Statisticians now tell us Mr. Trump would not be president if it weren’t for white Evangelicals. According to the latest statistics, 80% of all white Evangelicals voted for Donald Trump. Without them, he would not have won the electoral vote. For many of them, he’s still the answer to their desire for an overtly Christian nation. Not simply in numbers, but in political realities that matter to them.

I won’t and can’t distance myself from my Evangelical friends. Nonetheless, I’ve decided it’s more than enough to say I am a follower of Jesus Christ. I also happen to be white, female, a wife, mother and grandmother, musician, poet, writer, and a Christian theologian who cares deeply about the way I live as a follower of Jesus each day.

The list at the top expresses my continued commitment to focusing on truth about myself, about Christian faith as I see it, and about this world God loves so much. It also expresses my commitment to listening to others around the table. Especially when we don’t always agree.

© Elouise Renich Fraser, 19 October 2017
Image found at pinterest.com
Daily Prompt: Express

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October 14, 2017

No, I will not give up!

The mood in our country is ever more divisive, thanks to the old divide and conquer strategy. It seems Mr. Trump is a mastermind at this. Not just at getting us to quarrel with each other, but at maintaining his position as the Man in Charge, trickling glory down or withholding it, at his time and in his way.

My readings in the Psalms this past week were encouraging, yet troubling. They were all about what happens to the wicked. In particular, those whose god has become great wealth, who take delight in the adulation of adoring publics, and who seem to believe God is made in their image and thus on their side.

Mr. Trump, already a follower and lover of great wealth, displays leadership traits that are confusing at best, willfully destructive at worst.

Most troubling is his habit of changing the subject strategically so that it’s not about him, but about someone else or somewhere else or the flag or patriotism or immigrants. It seems his happy moments are fleeting. Never enough to fill the deep hole in his heart.

I serve but one God. Is it possible to do this without confessing my personal failings? Of course not. Nonetheless, I don’t buy the argument that everyone has their weak spots or failings. As though we should give others a free pass, particularly our leaders.

Hebrew and Christian Scriptures have somber warnings to religious and political leaders about the way they govern. This includes strategies such as pitting the strong against the weak, rich against poor, social class against social class, women against men, immigrants against residents. The possibilities are endless.

The strategy of muddying and distorting reality keeps us riled up and at each other’s throats. So distracted that we cannot effectively call out leaders for failure to lead on behalf of everyone. We’re too busy jumping on the us-versus-them bandwagon.

I don’t know how to engage mammoth power. Or perhaps I don’t appreciate the power I do have. Which would be my one brief life, a pen and my prayers.

This feels like less than two small loaves and a small fish. Barely enough for me; not nearly enough for those who gather each day wanting to hear truth and hope. Especially in times of political, social and geographic upheaval.

Being a faithful Christian citizen has rarely felt so heavy. The bottom line is simple: Whom do I serve? And am I ready to do this at any cost? My spirit is willing; my flesh is weak. Which is why I depend on others like you, regardless of your political or religious persuasion.

As a follower of Jesus, I’m in this for the long haul. Today I’m grateful for the company of others learning to live each day without giving up the fight for justice, or hope for today and tomorrow.

© Elouise Renich Fraser, 14 October 2017
Image found at flicker.com/photos/nicola
Daily Prompt: Succumb

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October 12, 2017

Evening Prayer

I’m weary this evening, Lord —
All I want is Your smile.

Daylight faded hours ago —
The choir sings to a congregation of one.

I jotted down these words last night while listening to an old hymn, “Abide with me; fast falls the eventide.” The end of a slow day, quiet and unimpressive with the exception of two encounters.

One was with a neighbor when I was out walking. She was standing on her front porch, waiting for a taxi. We talked about her recent illness, her cat, and the woman who died across the street and down the lane just last week.

Later during my walk I saw a couple I’ve known for years. They were out walking, too. About my age, both retired and in good shape with the exception of her fractured ankle and torn ligaments still on the mend months later.

I’ve been focused on prayer lately. Especially since my friend Margie died and left a huge void when it comes to prayer for others. My list grows daily. Not in leaps and bounds, but in small increments. Everyday people with difficult challenges and heartaches.

I haven’t figured out how to pray in a pointed way for the big stuff that hits the news every day. Not that I don’t know what to say. It’s more about not having a personal connection, or being so incensed that I don’t want to pray ‘for’ this or that. I just want to rage against it.

Perhaps things aren’t really worse than they used to be. In some ways, I’ve seen this country in worse shape than we’re in now. Yet in other ways we’re simply reverting to what I’d hoped we left behind. This, too, is a great weariness.

Maybe that’s where I need to begin. With things like the opioid crisis, the result of fraud on multiple levels over many years–perpetrated on people in chronic pain. People just like you and just like me. I wonder where in my neighborhood it’s making its mark today?

© Elouise Renich Fraser, 12 October 2017
Photo found at HopeLutheranChurch.wordpress.com
Daily Prompt: Fraud

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October 11, 2017

tiny drops of dew

We exist only because
God believes in us
And risks everything on our account

And who are “we”?
We are not the United States of America.
We are not any country on the face of this earth.
This is not our earth; not even our good earth.
It too belongs to God who believes in us
Not as the exceptional stars of God’s show
But as the everyday gardeners whose sole duty
Is to plow the ground and harvest the fruit
Of God’s great Harvest most of which
We will never see in our lifetimes.

We are not the stars or the sun or even the moon.
We are reflections of God’s great glory shining
Beyond light into our darkness filling our cups
To overflowing with tiny drops of dew each morning
Enough for this day when given away before it
Evaporates and returns to God who sent it.

I exist only because
God believes in me
And risks everything on my account

© Elouise Renich Fraser, 11 October 2017
Photo taken by DAFraser, August 2017
Daily Prompt: Exceptional

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October 10, 2017

Taming my bad beast

Two beasts roam around in me. A good beast and a bad beast. They want to direct my life. Sort of like Aslan, and sort of like the White Queen in The Chronicles of Narnia.

So here’s the trap I face regularly–to do or not to do something, plus my deep wish to say yes, and be part of the show. Normal! Not sitting somewhere on the sidelines, feeling left out, unappreciated or unacknowledged.

Sometimes the good beast in me roars, ‘No, I will not go with you on that wild goose chase! Don’t say I didn’t warn you!’ And though I often agree reluctantly, it’s most often the best thing for me not to do. Even though it’s costly.

The bad beast, unfortunately, knows how to look like a good beast, especially when it’s about whatever seems true, healthy, and of good report. It doesn’t always roar. It’s more likely to whisper in my ear reminding me that I can do just about anything if I put my mind to it.

And there’s the rub. It takes a lot more than my mind to do most things. Which gets me into self-defeating cycles of madness. Nothing you’d call 9-1-1 about. Unless I collapse on the race-track—not entirely impossible.

So, charging right ahead, about 6 or 8 weeks ago I noticed my Fitbit was urging me on to new heights of fitness. Nothing wrong with that, I thought, as I pondered my last year of slow-walk, slow-go, plenty of time outs for rest pace.

Fitbit is not a monster. Or a beast. It just knows how to get the attention of my beast—the one that wants to be right up there with everyone else. You know, that community of friends and sometimes family who are equally mad about Fitbit and determined to make their all goals each day and earn those lime-green flashy lights at the end of the day! Maybe even make it to the top of the Leader Board!

Heavy duty adrenalin rushes through my veins even as I write the words. Bad sign….

So I went for it. For nearly two months. At first it was wonderful. The weather cooperated. My body cooperated. I slept great and woke up without a whimper.

And then it wasn’t so wonderful. Little things began nagging at me. Feet hurting more than usual, aches here and there, falling asleep before I got to bed. Nothing huge, but a cloud of little gnats constantly getting in my way.

I was trying to walk a marathon and burn a gazillion calories each day, when all I needed to do was walk 2 miles a day or not, and burn just enough calories or not.

Yesterday I took an extra day of rest. Total delight and relief. I’m still wearing my Fitbit, but as a check—not as a dare-you-to-top-yesterday red flag waving in front of me all day.

Hoping your day is filled with serenity, sanity and gratitude for the one-of-a-kind person you are.
Elouise♥

© Elouise Renich Fraser, 10 October 2017
Image of The White Queen found at pinterest
Daily Prompt: Tame

8 Comments
October 7, 2017

yesterday’s memories


bluer than blue
greener than green
yesterday’s memories
filter deep water
refocus depth of perception
brilliance and light
shadows and darkness
in this transient season
not of our making
or understanding

Photos of reflections on water often capture more depth of perspective and color, along with greater detail than we could see in the moment the camera clicked. And, strangely, there’s often truth and beauty in these photos that captures my heart even more than it did when the camera clicked.

In the end, Truth lives beyond our individual perceptions. All the more reason for humility, openness, and listening ears. For me, this means at least a twofold commitment to spiritual elasticity that

  • doesn’t give away or abandon Truth,
  • and fully understands and even loves that it cannot see or own all Truth.

It isn’t all up to me. My part is to follow Truth and report what I’m seeing. Not what you’re seeing.

The Truth I follow is a person, Jesus Christ, who leads by way of life wisdom, not folly. The path is difficult. Never crystal clear, not engraved in stone, always dangerous and always evolving. I pray for spiritual elasticity to yield and stretch faithfully, in keeping with Jesus’ life, death and deceptively brief ministry on this earth.

A few thoughts for this weekend and Sabbath rest, given the world in which I find myself today. Not bereft of beauty, comfort and hope, and equally no longer the world I thought I knew. Now, more than ever, I need and am grateful for companions on this journey.

© Elouise Renich Fraser, 7 October 2017
Photo taken by DAFraser, May 2017 at Longwood Gardens
Daily Prompt: Elastic

9 Comments
October 6, 2017

the wind of the Spirit

The wind blows where it wishes
and you hear the sound of it,
but do not know where it comes from and where it is going;
so is everyone who is born of the Spirit.

John 3:8 (New American Standard Bible)

I want to receive and be part of the wind blown by God’s Spirit. Margie, my friend who died recently, was part of that wind. Quietly and without fanfare, she lived a frugal, disciplined life dedicated to one thing only. Helping others become the persons they were created to be. Not by working magic on them, or offering wise advice and counsel. It was much simpler and far more difficult than that.

Margie’s life was about praying. Finding out where the hurts in this world are landing, and praying for persons in pain or trying to find their way home. Praying not just once but daily, using notebooks to record her life of prayer. Following up and asking how things are going. And sometimes asking for prayer for herself.

I still say prayer changes me. I say that because often it’s the only evidence I have that anything is happening. The rest is up to the Spirit of God our Creator who has a Great Heart with unlimited space to enfold all of us together.

I’ve been restless lately about the meaning of my life now that I’m retired. This morning I’m thinking that maybe this season of life is about letting the wind of God blow through and on me, one day at a time. Beautifully and gracefully on some days; brutally bitter and cold on others. The way it did for Margie.

Though I’m not Margie, I want my writing to be a form of prayer for us–all of us. That we’ll be open to change that softens and toughens at the same time. Allowing the Spirit of our Creator to do through each of us what we cannot do on our own. I know it’s possible, because I’ve seen it already in many of you and in myself, as I did in Margie.

Elouise♥

© Elouise Renich Fraser, 6 October 2017
Photo found at Pixabay.com
Daily Prompt: Genius

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