Winter

Winter Walk

I took this picture in December while I was at our clergy Advent retreat. We were at our Diocesan Camp and Conference Center, Waycross. It is near Bloomington, IN in the Brown Mountains. It takes about 3 1/2 hours to get there from New Harmony and it is a lovely spot especially for quiet reflection.

I found a folder with some of my writing - stories and poems - while cleaning out some papers. One of the pieces was a reflection I did just a few days after 9/11. I was living in Albuquerque, NM at the time. My home was out on the west side of Albuquerque in a new housing development surrounded by wonderful desert mesas. My faithful Katie was a much younger golden retriever then and we loved to go out walking on the mesas every morning. I realize in these journal entries my continuing struggle to understand reconciliation. From September 13, 2001:

"Walking on the desert these past couple of mornings has been comfort to my soul. I feel blown apart by my own conflicting emotions. I weep, but no real relief comes. It is a matter of coughing up the wracking sobs within until I can breathe easier. I look at the pictures of wreckage and pain. I hear the stories. I listen to the analysis and I grow quieter. I have no words to say to others. Inside I am guarding my heart. For I know that there is another shoe to drop. The word RETALIATION rises up. And against it constantly vibrating is the word

VENGEANCE

My head aches with this word which vibrates. More lives will be lost. More pain. More anger. Where does it end? And so I ask, God comfort us with the balm of Gilead. Oh how I have come to love the comfort of the desert and the wildness of God's creation. It was raining this morning when Katie and I ventured out. Out into the sand and mud in search of treasures and bunnies and good smells. I love to watch Katie as she scares a bunny out of hiding and it flies across the desert to safety with Katie in pursuit. And I am thinking, 'Fear not bunny, Katie is a slow footed lover who only wants the chase.' I laugh at her, but I know she is serious in escorting bunnies to their homes. She is puzzled by their tiny homes and the crevices that they squeeze into. She lingers, sniffing, waiting for an invitation in. But even though she is fluffy, she will not fit. I love her innocent face - 'Where did they go Mama?' And so we go home to have coffee and wonder about a time when lions and lambs, and bunnies and golden retrievers will lie down together in peace."