Good bye, 2020-- don't let the door kick ya on the way out!

                                     Sleepy Hound Dog. Photo by The Pensacola Hippie

This year is on its last few hours--- and for this fact I am grateful. 

Year 2020 has been one that will live on in human history as one where widespread destruction occurred .  First of all: a pandemic arrived early in the year and still rages on in these United States-- making its formal entrance into Americans' lives in March. 

The pandemic is THE story of 2020's suckitude, but it is not the only story that makes for a crappy year. I've learned now that NOTHING takes the place of sending quality time with loved ones--and never again will I take hugs & handshakes for granted. 

Racial tensions heated up after George Floyd murder by a White cop--- sparking { socially-distanced} protests throughout the nation. I learned that White Supremacy and anti-Semitism never went away.  Rather-- the people who espoused this hatred thrived in secret communities on the Dark Web.  Locally, our protests remained somewhat violence-free { no one was killed]. 

This election season was like no other -- at least like none in my lifetime. Donald Trump's re-election bid divided families, friends & neighbors-- many of whom had enjoyed close kinship for years. This was a year in which I feel like I met many people whom I'd thought I'd known for the first time.  I totally understand that this is a two-party political arrangement-- but what I struggle to reconcile in my heart is how many good , kind people voted for Donald Trump. The fact that the popular vote tally was as close as we saw this year speaks volumes about America and Americans. To me, this election reflected the { dark, hate-filled} underbelly of American's collective thought processes.  While I do not remove people from my life simply because I know how they voted-- I'll forever shake my head at what led them to align themselves with a person who is the embodiment of all that is ugly about being American. 

This was a year of extreme weather. Fires on the West Coast and an extreme hurricane seasons in the Gulf and Atlantic. Pensacola was surprised by " Sally's" sharp turn to the East, leaving many city & county residents woefully unprepared. Naturally the areas hit hard by the extreme weather patterns got no help from FEMA --- but the utility companies from other regions sent crews to the area to at least get storm-ravaged areas back on the power grid. 

" Sally"-- due to Skanska's negligence-- knocked out the main bridge that connects Santa Rosa & Escambia Counties. Barges-- left incorrectly tied down-- struck the Three-Mile Bridge and left the spit of land that is Gulf Breeze  like an island. It is my hope & prayer that the company who did not bother to prepare for a possible storm situation will lose all its assets in the upcoming class-action lawsuit. 

This year saw my beloved paternal Grandmother, Anne, get to meet Jesus. After a long illness and a full, 90-year life, Grandma is healthy & whole in the next realm. 

In short-- I am glad that this horrible year is almost over. 2021 looks to be a year of small victories. A new Administration will take hold in January and the COVID vaccine will find its way to more people. My faith teaches me that there is always HOPE . I'd lie if I said that holding onto that hope has been easy this year. 

Let us carry the hard lessons from 2020 into 2021 and beyond. 

Sarah

New Years' Eve 2020

Who are we harming in our collective quest for " individual freedom"

  Today is the Feast of the Innocents. 

  It is one of the saddest days in the Church calendar--- as it is when we Christians commemorate the cruel murders of the baby boys-- ordered by King Herod in his fear-full quest to find the Christ Child. This story's contents are so terrible that I won't burden the reader with the details--- just suffice it to say that the Feast Of The Innocents is aptly named. 

These children were victims of an insecure , greedy & cruel monarch. Herod cared not whose families he devastated by his horrible order--- as long as his precious power was protected. 

Today's question: Who are the " innocents" who pay { sometimes with their lives} for others to exert our " freedom" and to remain " comfortable". 

God, please forgive me: I've no patience with people who refuse to wear a mask in public. My husband, a recent cancer survivor, is among the vulnerable whose lives Unmaskers endanger in order to preserve their so-called " independence " and " normalcy. 

It saddens me to think of how many empty holiday chairs could have remained filled if ALL OF US would put aside our individuality for the greater good of all people. I'll be honest---- I hate wearing masks. They fog my glasses-- if I am not mindful of the way I wear them. Worse, they obstruct the smiles of loved ones and muffle voices. 

I hate the mask. But I don them willingly in order to d my part to slow the spread of COVID. I mask because I am not among those who would die if COVID caught me, but because I want to protect everyone from falling ill. No matter what science-denying buffoon tweets on any given day, waring the masks { along with staying away from people as much as possible and NOT GOING TO HOLIDAY PARTIES }helps protect people. 

Innocent people from every walk of life are dying because some people--- many of them outside of the parameters for vulnerability-- refuse to wear a mask. 

I am not mincing words anymore--- anyone who till thinks that their rights outweigh protecting innocent, vulnerable lives is as selfish and deadly as Herod. 

Think of others. Wear the mask. 

Amen. 

Sarah McCarren 

Feast Of the Innocents 2020

Advent Word : #Holy

 

                                 Peace, rest & wholeness at the beach. Photo by The Pensacola Hippie

Today's word is HOLY. 

I equate " holy " with " wholeness". Many of us feel-less-than-whole this season, after ten months of keeping ourselves and others physically whole by staying away takes its toll on the human psyche.. 

Four years of a totally divided federal government also has many, including myself, feeling less-than-whole.  While I do not want to " borrow trouble" , and do my best to keep my soul facing forward-- I struggle. 

It is not a good idea to ignore the lack of wholeness , or " holiness" that is the reality for so many people as this calendar year ends.  On the flip side of that equation, it is also UNHEALTHY to dwell on the amount of brokenness that we all feel. 

COVID has killed more Americans than did the terrorist event in September 2001. Families have been broken by untimely, preventable deaths. 

As we are slowly able to do so, emerging from Pandemic Life will take time.  Likewise, the new hope of some semblance of normalcy coming from Washington , DC will take time. 

Our loving Creator God intended us to be whole. This same loving Creator-- Christians believe-- loved we humans so much that God became literally one of us. 

We-- broken as we are right now-- are whole{ holy} to God. 

I need to lean into that thought as our hearts prepare to welcome Christ as a baby into a very broken Roman-ruled world. 

God knows how lost we feel living in a broken world. 

Amen. 

Sarah McCarren

23 December 2020

Adventword #Wisdom

                                       One of the parish matriarchs --whom we lost in 2020. Photo by The Pensacola Hippie. 

Today's word is WISDOM. 

I am grateful for the wisdom of others who have more " life experience" than I do. As a matter of fact, I relied a lot on the wise advice from such people in order to navigate this unprecedented, horrible year. 

One of the wisest gems of advice came from my priest--- who received the same piece of wisdom from someone whom she admired. 

Don't "borrow trouble" Be particular about what news media to consume. 

The advice to " not borrow trouble" has proven to be sanity-saving during Pandemic Life.  While I remain fully in the reality of life right now, I cannot and do not let myself chase doomsday rabbits around in my head space.  When I fret-- I lose all of my common sense, and I am aware that senselessness does nobody any help--- especially in a crisis such as COVID. I've had to snooze some social media contacts to spare myself the daily COVID report in my county--- this is exactly the sort of input that will freeze my operating system and cause me to crash. 

There is a need to remain informed, as mature & responsible citizens. 

However, I find that too much exposure to breaking news causes me to slip into dangerous " what if" territory. 

So I hold onto the wisdom of selecting whose and how much news I consume daily. Additionally, I tend to call myself out if something causes me to start " borrowing trouble".  This wisdom helps me to remain an engaged, informed citizen during this crisis without sacrificing too much head space to the what-if factor. 

Additionally, I've found that I benefit from the wisdom of our faith also keeps me sane and ' grounded ' during Pandemic Life. I make an effort to pray the Noonday and Evening Prayers each weekday-- that rhythm of stopping at certain prescribed points during the workday  has been a constant durig this unpredictable year. While I can see why other Christians might not feel the connection & comfort I do from praying the same few words daily , I feel a real { let invisible} connection with Christians around the world when I pray these words. For me, I can soak in the wisdom of our forbearers in the Christian walk when I stop to pray these words. 

I am grateful for wisdom and Wisdom. 

Amen

Sarah McCarren

12-22-20 
 

AdventWord #Mystery

 

Photo of candle on my altar. On this Longest Night, I am in solidarity for all for whom Christmastide will be " bah humbug"  Photo By The  Pensacola Hippie 

Tonight's word is: MYSTERY . 

To be honest, today was one of the days when Muse refused to visit me. Try as I might-- no words came forth as I pondered " mystery".  

However, my lazy Muse got to work when I logged into a Blue Christmas service livestream and walked outside to see the alignment  of Jupiter & Saturn-- " The Christmas Star". 

I'm not an experienced stargazer, but-- wireless earphones donned-- I  walked outside. Quickly I found the planetary alignment-- shining brightly. As I gazed at the sky-- knowing that this particular phenomenon only occurs once every 800 years-- I felt connected to people everywhere. The mystery of the Universe became more clear to me as I gazed upward and thought about all that has ocured since people last gazed upon this ' star"

It has been a rough year--- there has been so much loss . But, as I stood in the dark staring at the strange light in the sky I felt connected to generations of people who have come & gone since the " star" appeared. 

2020 was rough. But as Father Greg said { and I paraphrase.} the Light shines in the darkness.  It is our time to, as Fr Greg said again , to shine the Light for someone else."

One light at a time, Christ's mystery is made known. Even during a pandemic, people I know were helping people in need. We continued to shine that Christ-light for others-- " putting skin on" and doing Christ's enlightening work. 

Amen. 

Sarah McCarren

21 Dec 2020

Feast of St Thomas The Apostle. 

#AdventWord #Rejoice

      

Photo of my younger brother & our Grandmother, Anne, dancing at his wedding reception. Photographer unknown. 

Today's word is REJOICE!

I know---- it seems an odd word to be included in the 2020 list. Most of us are not feeling holly-jolly this holiday season. After all, Love dictates that we " lay down" most of our beloved holiday traditions so that we may keep ourselves and others safe for next year. 

Its hard to rejoice when we are ten months into a pandemic and some people still won't do their part to slow the spread of COVID. 

My Dad's mother was laid to rest this past week, and COVID protocol dictates that I not hug him. I. Can't. Hug. My Own. Father.. 

There are not enough swear words in the dictionary to express how much this fact sucks. A friend reminded me, however that I cannot get stuck in suckitude. 

Yes , even now, there is reason to rejoice. 

For instance, my parish community continues to worship in-person  { with safety measures followed} . I find a lot of joy in knowing that one hour per week---- even now--- I can spend giving glory to God among people I love. I rejoice in the fact that Alabama { and Camp Beckwith} made it possible for me to relax in a safe way with folx I love during November's Parish Retreat. 

I rejoice that our church community still finds ways to serve others and stay connected throughout this weird year. 

Regarding my Grandmother's death, I rejoice knowing that she finally  got to meet Jesus & is no longer in pain. It may sound weird to some people-- but as my priest celebrated Mass this morning I sensed Grandma" Anne's very real new presence right there with we  Pensacola ' Christophers'. I even felt Grandma Anne's smile from Heaven as my priest started the Eucharistic Prayer. 

Grandma is rejoicing in Heaven that her eldest " grand-girl" has blossomed over the past three years. She is rejoicing that she did live to meet my spouse--- and that he is someone for whom she felt fondness. 

I rejoice that Grandma is healthy & whole.  I rejoice in the fact that soon the United States will have her first woman-as-Vice-President---- *** and*** that she is a nonwhite woman.  I rejoice that--- in spite of odds--- the US Supreme Court upheld marriage equality. The marriages of people I love will remain legal. 

Rejoice, and be glad. 

Amen. 

4 Advent 2020

Sarah McCarren

Advent Word #Turn

   

                                                        Unknown source for graphic. 

Today's word is: TURN. 

To be honest, the first thought that I had when I got today's word were the lyrics to a song by The Byrds. 

To everything turn, turn, turn
There is a season turn, turn, turn
And a time to every purpose under heaven

A time of love, a time of hate
A time of war, a time of peace
A time you may embrace
A time to refrain from embracing

Yeah 2020 started out rather normally for most people in the US. Then March roared in carrying a deadly and new virus. The nation literally shut down while the brightest minds in medical research worked to understand this strange ' bug'. 

In March of this year--- society took a turn for the worst.  As the medical community began to understand more about how to keep safer from COVID, " freedom fighters" everywhere refused to wear the masks and stay out of big groups. Some states' governors got on board with the medical data and mandated masking in public.  However, Florida is not one such sensible state. Our neighbor to the north & west , Alabama, issued masking while our governor  pandered to the lowest common denominators of his citizenry-- the Science Deniers. 

One by one, people were forced to " lay down" things in the name of public health. Even funerals became virtual as sensible bishops dictated that Episcopal churches follow strict safety guidelines, The entire second semester of last school year was moved online , and parents struggled to find childcare options for their home-schoolers. 

Commerce suffered, as people could not get out-- or chose to sensibly stay home. 

In September, Pensacola and Baldwin County, Alabama bore the brunt of a hurricane that took a sharp, sudden #turn East at the last minute. This turn caused devastation to private & public property-- the biggest calamity as the broken Three Mile Bridge.  As the storm raged, our beautiful coastline turned into a disaster zone--- which it still is due to COVID & the lack of aide from the federal government.

Yup,. 2020 has been full of unseen turns. 

A time to gain, a time to lose
A time to rend, a time to sew
A time for love, a time for hate
A time for peace, I swear it's not too late.....

As we move into the Fourth week of Advent, 2020 there are signs that we'll soon take a turn for the better. Slowly, people are able to line up to receive the newly-approved COVID vaccine. the new Administration is shaping up to bring in a much-needed positive turn of national discourse.  Human rights that were challenged are being upheld. 

Slowly, there is a turn towards hope. For Christians, Jesus is Hope Incarnate.  His life, death and resurrection reflects  our story as People Of God. 

Let us turn towards that Hope and lean into it this week. 

Amen

Sarah McCarren 

Advent 4 2020

Advent Word #Bless

One of my biggest  blessings is the life together with the people who meet regularly for worship here.  Photo by The Pensacola Hippie. 

Today's word is : BLESS. 

During this weird year, it can be hard to find the blessings. Nothing is normal. People are still dying from COVID and many still refuse to practice good pandemic safety. 

Yet life blesses us. 

 My life, in spite of all the COVID restrictions, continues to be blessed by my parish community.  On Wednesday evening Brian and I attended an Advent Taize service at church.  This was a place and time that we, the St Christopher's Young { Youngish} Adults created intentionally for people to " lay down" their laments.  During the music { provided by three gifted masked singers} people were invited to move around the church and stop at three interactive prayer stations. 

One of the three prayer stations at Wednesday evening's Advent Taize service.  Photo by The Pensacola Hippie. 

 In spite of this hideous year-- my parish manages to bless each other and the wider Pensacola community. It s true that 2020 has been a year of loss--- in several ways--- but I am reminded that it is the people in our lives with whom we choose to associate who bless us. 

  " Community" looks different right now. However, 2020 did not stop the blessings coming. 

  Amen. 

~Sarah

 

#AdventWord #Learn

                                         e. e. cummings quote that is one of my favorite sayings. 

Today's word is LEARN. 

 Giving the amount of suckitude of this calendar year, I can easily list the lessons I have learned from 2020. 

  Family is so important. Furthermore, " family" isn't merely those with whom you share DNA: some of my most life-giving familiar bonds are those with whom I share life. 

  I am an introvert. The cancellations of big public events and the lack of public gatherings does not hurt my soul But, as a strong " intuitive feeler", I crave being physically present with people I know & love-- even if COVID precludes touching each other. I miss small gatherings that had been pre-Covid staples of life, such as church & civic activities. I miss serving meals to the needy at a soup kitchen. I miss shopping locally for special gifts from local artisans. I miss the occasional quiet lunch in a restaurant with my spouse--- take-out food is not quite the same experience. 

  I've learned that worshipping on a screen is hard for me. gain, there is so much " work of the people" that occurs during an Episcopal Sunday experience that it gets watered down to another spectator activity. The only time in my entire life that church ever felt like a ' chore' was when everyone was on lockdown. My tradition's style includes engagement of more than just eyes and ears. 

  Touch and eye contact with other people is part of our experience as higher animals. Human communication is much more complicated than mere sounds. If there is a lesson I've learned from ZOOMing, it is how much I miss non-verbal communication.  Zoom lets you " look at" faces, but it really cannot gaze into another's eyes and connect with them on a soul-level.  Seeing others is a whole lot more than looking at their faces on a screen. I've learned that ZOOM exhausts me, and I've also discovered that there is scientific research data to back up my claim of ZOOM fatigue. As an introvert, I've learned that big ZOOM meetings are especially taxing on my brain. 

 During this political season, I have learned a lot about the views of people I love. To be honest, I felt saddened by learning  some of the views of people I love--- and I am still learning how to engage lovingly  with them. This political season has re-minded me that people need not see eye-to-eye politically to still love one another.  Another valuable lesson I learned  is to mind my words--- especially while using social media. Again, the limits of screen-based communication leave lots of room for misunderstandings. 

  I've learned that my spouse is the most patient spouse! Isolation and mental illness do not mix well , and Brian has been a trooper this year. I now I am not the easiest person with whom to share a home, and he has seldom complained while loving me through my worst days. 

  A lesson that is universal in Pensacola is take storms in the Gulf seriously.  _Sally_ threw us a BIG surprise curve ball, and Escambia County, Florida found itself unprepared. People I know are still recovering from home damage due to _Sally_.  We learned to prepare accordingly every time a named storm enters the Gulf. 

2020 has been a year full of Life Lessons. It has not been a good year-- but one in which I believe when many people learned what is really important in life. 

What have YOU learned this year? Furthermore, how can we take these lessons and live better in the future? 

Peace,

Sarah McCarren 
 

It's Complicated, but I am " Always Appalachian"

                   Photo of me on the trail in the woods of Western North Carolina Photo by Brian

Last evening I finished _Hillbilly_, and independent documentary by Ashley York. The filmmaker returns to the hollows of Kentucky-- where she grew up-- to discover if she can untangle the mess that is America's views of " Hillbillies". 

  Like Ms York, I was born and raised in the hills of Northern Appalachia.  My formative years were spent in rural western Pennsylvania, eastern Ohio & the West Virginia Panhandle  My classmates' fathers had good union jobs at the steel mill until m teen years. I am not the child of  mill worker or miner--- but I grew up with people whose parents were Rust Belters. 

  That deep, rich Appalachian soil is a part of my being. Yet it is not how I define myself. 

   As is Ms York, I am bothered with how people from rural Appalachia are portrayed in media--- and have been mis- represented for decades.  The " hillbilly" image of a toothless, fat, lazy White person has perpetuated Appalachia's image for too long.  Growing up, I knew people who do fit this unfortunate stereotype. However, the people with whom i associated the most are anything but stereotypical. 

   Appalachia is a HUGE region--- composed of all or parts of 13 states. It is a diverse region-- rural and urban. York's documentary focus on rural " hillbillies" , but a visit to Asheville, NC { one pf my favorite cities} , Morgantown WV, or Pittsburgh, PA wil tell a different story.  Appalachian cities are becoming places of scholarship and the arts. In my lifetime, Pittsburgh has re-invented herself from her Rusty roots to a first-rate medical research center. Our visit to Asheville this autumn revealed a city that flourishes with a heathy downtown life { even amidst COVID protocols} 

Rural areas and small towns do present challenges.  It is true that I know people from my rural high school who have died of opioid use. Its true that many people get out after high school graduation--- causing a real " brain drain". Yet some people choose to stay an make their home there & I commend them for bringing hope. 

 It was pointed out that the federal government & the people of rural Appalachia have a messy relationship. Promises of " bringing back coal" did not and will not materialize, but as long as the deciders in Washington DC choose to ignore the economic needs of Appalachians, the problems of the region will continue. 

  Another reason why my relationship with the region in which I grew up is complicated is that my family-of-origin { parents & younger brother} never  really fit in to rural, blue-collar life. Growing up as a child of two hippies in a socially-conservative culture. However, I cannot deny the kindness that most of the people showed me while growing up as a rather odd little duckling.  In retrospect, I am grateful for my " stranger in a strange land" upbringing in Appalachia, because it offered me a perspective of being from Appalachia without being of Appalachia. 

  I love those mountains & I love the people who inhabit them.  I'll return for visits. 

 However, I'll never stay there. Pensacola is home, and I found my niche in this small Gulf Coast city.I understand fully why Ashley York left Kentucky.  

 Peace to all. 

 Sarah McCarren 

The Miracle of Light: and How Light Changes

                                      Hanukkah Menorah ablaze on Night 2 of Hanukkah 2020Photo by The Pensacola Hippie

 Brian and I are observing the eight nights of the Jewish festival of Lights{ also known as Hanukkah} Now before someone gets in my face regarding " cultural appropriation", please recall that I AM of Jewish descent on my Mom's side of my family. Yes, I know I don't " look "Jewish-- but I do not and can not deny my heritage. I'm a proud Christian with Ashkenazi Jewish roots. 

  Anyway , at sundown Brian and I gather at the mantle where we keep our menorah. I first light the shamash  { or ' helper"} candle and say the first blessing.  Then the candles are lit , one for each night of the eight nights that celebrate the miracle of a wee bit of lamp oil lasting for eight full nights. 

  In spite of  holidays of major religions happening during the  darkest part of the year in the Northern Hemisphere, I cannot help but notice the theme of " light" in both Advent & Hanukkah. 

  My Christian faith uses December to prepare to recall the birth of a special Baby, a Baby Whose life & death would re-set the world.  In _Godly Play_ 's Baptism story, we tell the children that the Light  will change form-- and then the storyteller covers the light with a candle snuffer. Then the storyteller says" The Light has not disappeared. It has changed. Look at the smoke rising up and going all around this room. You can't see it-- but the Light is still here. " 

  The Light has changed. It is here, but cannot be seen. It can be felt. 

   Last night my dear paternal Grandmother, Anne, went to her eternal Home . Grandma was surrounded by five of her six children, and the long-distance soul-presence of her kin living in other places. COVID keeps us from gathering to celebrate Anne's life, but I recall the candle light in Godly Play and how the energy from the flame merely changes form. I like to think that our loved ones who have gone Home before us are like the candle light. They are not here in the form that we can see and touch, but their essence -- at death-- changes into something that is everywhere. 

 For me, Resurrection means that Grandma is whole and healthy. Additionally, her non-presence in the physical world provides her loved ones with ways to encounter her spirit. 

  As my Dad said, it will be the first time in half a century that he and Mom won't send a Christmas card to Grandma's address. Yet she'll always be with us--- just like the light of the candle. 

"Baruch atah, Adonai Eloheinu, Melech haolam, she-asah nisim laavoteinu v’imoteinu bayamim hahaeim baz’man hazeh. "

" Blessed are You, Adonai our God, Sovereign of all, who performed wonderous deeds for our ancestors in days of old at this season."

And, from the Book Of Common Prayer Burial: 

O God of grace and glory, we remember before you this day
our sister ) Anne We thank you for giving her to us, her
family and friends, to know and to love as a companion on
our earthly pilgrimage. In your boundless compassion,
console us who mourn. Give us faith to see in death the gate
of eternal life, so that in quiet confidence we may continue
our course on earth, until, by your call, we are reunited with
those who have gone before; through Jesus Christ our Lord.
Amen.

~Sarah McCarren 

 11 Dec 2020

 

Keeping Watch... and Giving Thanks

 

                         Grandma Anne's 88th birthday photo. I do not know who to credit for this photo. 

 Tonight, as I " keep watch" with the Pennsylvania McCarrens as Grandma navigates that sacred space between our temporal existence & the promise of a new, different way of being.  This prayer-- which happens to be my favorite nighttime prayer-- takes on a special meaning as it was prayed during online  Evening Prayer . 

        Keep watch, dear Lord, with those who work, or watch, or weep this night, and give your angels charge over those who sleep. Tend the sick, Lord Christ; give rest to the weary, bless the dying, soothe the suffering, pity the afflicted, shield the joyous; and all for your love's sake. Amen. ~~Evening Prayer, Rite 2 Book of Common Prayer

My dear grandmother is prepping to meet Jesus. I'm sad , but I know that Grandma will be happy, healthy & whole in this new existence that we Christians only glimpse into at the Communion rail. Soon, Grandma will take that final step into Communion with her LORD & Savior. This is a joyous occasion for her-- the body that she inhabited for 90 years will finally let her soul--- her essence-- free.

She'll finally meet this Jesus--- about Whom I'd not know a thing if not for her taking me to Mass when I was a small child. He will say' Well-done, good and faithful servant Anne. '

But meanwhile, COVID tide robs those of us who love Anne from celebrating her long life as she deserves. There will be a funeral Mass said a the Catholic church where she's been a faithful member for her entire adult life. A burial in the cemetery in Coylesville, PA will follow. Both events will be closed to the public and have only five of the six children in attendance. { A COVID ban keeps my Dad in Florida. }

Grandma is a nurse by profession and enjoyed a long career in the healthcare industry. She has spent her entire life in Butler County, PA and married a man from the same county. They have six children-- five of whom still live in the area near Grandma's house. Several of Anne's 15 adult grandchildren live in the area while others { such as myself} watch and wait from afar. Some of Grandma's six great-grandchildren are blessed enough to spend a little of time with her.

Love dictates that we stay safe and keep others safe. Grandma wouldn't want anyone to get sick.

So we watch and wait from afar. What angers me is that this long-distance wait and watch could have been avoided had COVID been corralled properly early in the pandemic. Yet here we are & I am on some excellent advice to look for the good in each day. Here we go:

~ No one in my immediate circle has fallen ill with COVID. My small contact trace has been clean thus far. Of the people I know who have caught it-- only one has died.

~ Early winter in Northwest Florida is beautiful. And, its an added bonus to be free of named storms for a few months.

~My spouse's heath has remained great. He impresses his doctors.

~Both my parents are alive & healthy. Middle age is when folx start losing parents.

~I have food, safe housing, and plenty of clothes to wear.

~We can pay our utility bill each month.

~ Our vehicle is paid for. So is our house.

~Even in the middle of a pandemic, my church family has remained Real, Rooted & Relevent .

~My Grandma Anne has been a part of my life for almost 45 years.

"Love Travels: even between the Now and the Hereafter.

Amen.

Sarah McCarren

8 Dec 2020

#AdventWord #Fellowship

 

                               Me and my " class " for Reaffirmation of Baptismal vows: 2018 . Photo credit unknown . 

Today's word is FELLOWSHIP. 

It has been 9 months since pre-Covid life.  And as much as it sucks, we are adjusted to living an isolated existence in order to stay alive { and keep other alive} for the New Year. 

Loving others means limiting in-person contact. It is hard to see the ending of this necessary isolation, 

Humans are social creatures-- even we introverts! Pandemic Season grates on all of our hearts--- as even the little amount of fellowship we allow is altered to keep everyone safe. While I am grateful for the small amount of in-person fellowship Brian and I enjoy--- my heart longs for post-Covid times when we may gather together safely. 

Maintaining relationships using only online media is exhausting. I've learned that I must limit my Zoom & Facebook Live time to prevent tech burnout.  I've discovered that the Daily Offices that my church offers twice each weekday soothes my soul and helps me " keep time". Big Zoom meetings frustrate and sadden me, especially when all but the speaker{s} are " muted" & the chat feature disabled.  Of course I know that this is  necessary to keep all from talking at once, but it still makes my heart sad. 

 I majored in Communications in college, so I've an academic interest in ways that people communicate during Covid. Recently I've read some studies on " Zoom Fatigue" and psychologists and experts in human communication agree that people miss a lot of nonverbal communication cues when gathering online. Most communication between & among humans is nonverbal, and when you are looking at several people in a Hollywood Squares type of format the rain tires quickly. 

Tomorrow I will join a big Zoom event with people around my Diocese. It will be a " virtual coffee hour" with folx  in order to celebrate our Diocese turning 50 years old. Originally, this week's agenda was chock full of wonderful worship & fellowship activities. Obviously COVID robbed us of this wonderful chance to gather in-person for worship and fellowship. 

I attended the virtual Evensong last evening, with the right to " leave" if I felt overwhelmed. I stayed tuned-in until the organ's postlude. Our sister parish downtown did an outstanding jo of creating a safe sacred worship space. This evening I'm looking forward to the virtual " revival { it seems weird to use that word in Episcopal circles} featuring Presiding Bishop Michel Curry and Bryan Stevenson, of Equal Justice Initiative fame. Again, I reserve the right to check out for a few minutes if I feel overwhelmed by the stimuli. 

We need each other--- in spite of and perhaps because of these weird times in human history. I am grateful for technology that allows us to have fellowship  in a safe way. Yet I've learned to never take for granted the power of human touch. After all , God created us with five senses-- not just sight and hearing. 

Wear the mask, so we can ALL enjoy the freedom of in-person fellowship with our communities. 

Wear the MASK. 

Amen. 

~Sarah McCarren

4 Dec 2020

#AdventWord #Rebuild

 

Edward Ball Trail at UWF. This public hiking path was destroyed by Hurricane Sally in 2020.  Photo By The Pensacola Hippie 

Today's word is : REBUILD. 

Life in Northwest Florida, or anywhere along the Atlantic or Gulf coast is familiar with the rebuilding after major storms. Among other travesties in 2020, Pensacola got hit with an unusual hurricane. " Sally" was NOT supposed to hit our area, but she took a sharp turn East at the last moment and stomped ashore near the Alabama Gulf Coast. Pensacola, sitting on the easterly side of the landfall, bore the brunt of the bad East winds. 

 Needless to say, there is much rebuilding of structures that still has to happen since Sally. Brian and I were fortunate that we sustained NO structural damage to our home , but many in our City & surrounding areas did not fare as well. A cursory drive around our Zip code will show homes in various stages of repair. 

Shingle and fence loss are the two major re-buildings happening in our part of town. Homes and other structures in low-lying and coastal areas here in Pensacola sustained much more  damage than Northeast Pensacola.   " Sally's" constant rain  caused more water damage than many people anticipated. 

Collectively, we far Northwest Florida residents await the rebuilding of the Three-Mile Bridge that connects the spit of land that houses Gulf Breeze to Pensacola. Due to the negligence of the contracted company who had been building the bridge, several barges were set free. One of these wayward barges crashed into the bridge, tearing it apart. This severing of the main east-west artery to and from Highway 98 has proven  miserable for people living in Gulf Breeze or Navarre & working in Pensacola. Thankfully, there are alternate routes to The 'Cola, but they require more miles added to daily commutes.  It will be MONTHS until this bridge is rebuilt. 

Perhaps the lesson of all the " storms" of Year 2020 { weather, pandemic, and the crap-storm that is the 2020 Election is simple Maybe God The Creator is using this messy year to guide humanity ito REBUILDING a better, kinder society in 2021 and beyond. Humanity has seen the worst in almost everything this year--- yet we are at the point where we can look towards rebuilding.  2020 revealed some brokenness in our culture--- brokenness that those of us born after 1970 never experienced. The pandemic also brought out humanity's more basic traits: individualism over collective good.  People have died { and are still dying} from the storms brought about by the pandemic and the recent racial strife. 

When the clock strikes midnight on December 31, life won't magically rebuild. We all will need to work together to rebuild our American way of life. 

Amen.

Sarah

3 December 2020

#AdventWord #Earth

 

              Me hiking in Western NC, one of my favorite places on #Earth. Photo by Brian 

Today's #AdventWord is #Earth.  

As someone who grew up in Northern Appalachia and who now lives on Florida's Gulf Coast, my spiritual life is enriched by my time spent outdoors  . I feel closest to God the Creator when I am out-of-doors. As a matter of fact, winter & rainy weather is hard on my soul-- since it calls for me to stay inside. 

The older I become, the more I experience The Divine while enjoying time in Nature. During the lockdown of 2020, the ** only ** place my Covid-weary soul felt any peace was when I managed to be at the water's edge or among the piney woods . 

 Time with Earth is healing.  Time among the other creatures on God's Earth reminds me of the Creativity of our Creator. 

  Spending time  " Earthing" during this pandemic has helped me to hold onto  #hope.

  Today I give thanks for God's great Earth and all she offers. I pledge to continue to do my part to keep her healthy, and to encourage others to do likewise. 

Amen. 

Sarah

2 Dec 2020

#AdventWord #Strengthen

 Authentic Cherokee prayer bowl that I purchased from an authentic  Cherokee potter artisan in Hendersonville , NC Photo by The Pensacola Hippie 

Today's word is STRENGTHEN . 

This has been a tough year for { almost } everyone I know. We all are victims of this pandemic--- even those of us who stay safe by following all the CDC guidelines. We are healthy, but most { if not all} of our time is spent with a very small " COVID Pod". Most of our socialization is done online. This is necessary-- but not easy for most of we social creatures. 

However, throughout this adversity I find my faith strengthened. There are a myriad of ways this has happened, so I will list a few. 

Never again will I take for granted the blessing that is in-person corporate worship . During the lockdown in Florida, online worship was our only option. Each week after I logged off of worship, I found my soul longing for Communion--- both the Bread of Life & { more importantly} sharing space with my parish community. Our return to in-person worship continues to be an anchor point as COVID season drags on. My love for my parish family has been strengthened by the forced time apart that we had to endure for the sake of all. 

My relationship with both of my parents has strengthened. Mom and Dad are part of the small " pod" that Brian and I have, we spend Sunday afternoons in Navarre with my parents. Through this ritual of a visit and a shared meal, my relationship with my parents has grown stronger. 

Since being among strangers is a no-no right now, Brian and I do our best to spend a lot of time outdoors. This summer, both of us began the sport of kayaking and I discovered that this sport strengthens both my mental/spiritual health and my physical strength. My upper body has not been this well-conditioned since my high school sports years.  I've toned my arms & shoulders, so my clothes fit better & give me more confidence in how I look. 

There is no doubt that the most-recent election season { and its immediate aftermath} has been ugly on all accounts. However, the ugliness  re-minded me of the values that I do my best to live by daily. These past four years has seen an attempt on stealing rights away from people who do not meet the White ,Straight, Independently Wealthy , Male & " Christian" criteria.  As the Black Lives Matter movement accelerated I found myself dealing with systematic racism & anti-Semitism with renewed vigor.  Sadly, I also saw some of the worst from people-- some whom I know and love. Yet the extra-ugly political season and post-election crap show has strengthened my resolve to stand up for justice for all. 

Year 2020 has been like no other in my forty-four years of life on Earth. To be honest, some days were so bad all I could manage was to get out of bed , brush my teeth & eat a wee bit of food. As we turn the corner to a new calendar year & all its promised { VACCINE!}  I am a stronger, more confident version of myself. 

Thanks be to God! 

Amen

Sarah 

1 Dec 2020 

2020 #AdventWord #Deliver

                                       Sunrise on Weeks' Bay Photo by The Pensacola Hippie

Toady's Advent word is DELIVER. 

This is a hard one for me, as I associate this word with childbirth. I'm over 40 years old, and unable to birth children. To be honest, I feel very jealous of women who show off their newborn children/ grandchildren-- especially during the holidays. 

 In spite of all the work of feminism most of society considers motherhood a woman's crowning achievement. While I agree that children are beautiful and necessary, I often wonder why the " deliveries of we women who " birth" art, literature, scientific discoveries or other achievements not as celebrated as woman who can and do deliver children. 

Several of the finest " mothers" I know have never birthed a child. { be it by choice or circumstance} yet their contributions to society are valuable. It is to these women I look when the green-eyed monster shows up whenever I see someone's baby/grandbaby smiling at me on social media. 

Women are conditioned to be mothers. But not all of us are supposed to deliver children into the world. 

I'm okay with this fact.  However, I wish that society would stop pushing the narrative of all women should aspire to parenthood. Some of us are meant to #Deliver and nurture new life in other ways. 

Amen

Sarah

30 November 2020

2020 #AdventWord #Tender

Hands joined in prayer at the altar of the main chapel of Beckwith Camp and Conference Center. St Christopher's Women's Retreat 2018. A tender moment between some of my  Christa Sistas" and me  Photo by The Pensacola Hippie. 

The 2020 Pandemic Edition of Sarah's Advent Word. This has surely ben a challenging year for most of us and since I m  verbal processor of thoughts & experiences, it is good to fall into my normal Advent devotional of meditating on the day's word. 

Today's word is #Tender. 

This season brings with it some tender moments for me & for people I love. Firstly, the deaths from the pandemic are increasing, and people are forced to observe & celebrate the December holidays differently.

 Many are looking at empty chairs  due to the pandemic. 

Others, such as myself & my extended family, remain wakeful & watchful as a loved one comes to her last days on Earth. Staying safe during this pandemic means that no one will be able to fly to Pittsburgh to join my Dad's sibling in putting my Grandmother to rest.

 Grandma's death, like her life, will be " good" She is at home and spends most of her time sleeping. Dad had a chance to speak with her on the phone on Thursday. I was not privy to that conversation but I know my Dad well enough to understand that phone call to be tender and sacred I am glad that both Dad and Grandma had that tender time together--- even if it had to be via telephone { Grandma does not employ computers or smartphones}

 Throughout this crazy year, I've learned that tender moments where God shows God's Self in ordinary , small moments are gifts. 

This morning's Gospel from St Mark has Jesus admonishing His followers " KEEP AWAKE"  This is solid advice for any time, but perhaps more so during a pandemic. 

Amen. 

Sarah 

1 Advent 2020
 

#AskAnAppalachian. Boycott _Hillbilly Elegy_

                               Me, in the mountains of Western NC, five years ago. #ThisIsAnpplachian . Photo by Brian. 

Ron Howard directed a film that is on Netflix that generates much buzz lately among people I know. The movie, Hillbilly Elegy, is based on a book by the same name . Written by  JD Vance, a man who was born and raised in the " hills" of Kentucky. 

 I'm not bothering to watch the movie. 

 As someone who was born and raised in the Pittsburgh sub-region of Appalachia, the reviews of the book told me all I need to know.  While some may see Vance's story as one of someone pulling himself up by his " bootstraps" I see it as a sad and INACCURATE over-generalization  of Appalachian-Americans. 

  We are NOT all poor White trash. People from there can and do succeed in professional work and business. Many do leave the hills, but others return after some time away. 

  Not everyone who was raised in Appalachia has or had a drug abuse problem. Yes, the area -- like all areas-- has a problem with drug use  among some citizens. To be honest, in the time I've lived in Florida, there seems to be more people I know succumbing to drug addiction.  Vance should have explained that the drug use in Appalachia is due mostly to the lack of good blue-collar jobs for people. While I was growing up-- many classmates' fathers worked for steel mills. People with a high school education could work in good jobs and provide enough for a family.  For many reasons. steel production ended when I was in high school.  My dad is not a former steel mill employee, but his  ability to provide for us was affected by the steel mills' closures. the loss of both the coal industry and steel production  delivered big hits to the Appalachian region. 

  Appalachia is more than steel and coal. Pittsburgh has enjoyed a rebirth of sorts, with the medical research industry attracting brainpower to the area. The area of Appalachia in which I grew up in home to universities and colleges of all sizes and stripes. 

  To be honest, my relationship to the region of my origin is complicated.  It is true that some small town /rural Appalachian areas are not diverse. My experience growing up as a minority { Jewish on Mom's side of the family} and the child of  liberal hippie parents was daunting.  Racial and anti-Semitic slurs were heard on occasion  Most of my family and none of my schoolmates understand that being " other" in a uniformly White Christian society was hard. However, growing up interfaith and intercultural in a white-bread culture has gifted me with tenacity. 

  To be honest, I am glad I left Western Pennsylvania/Eastern Ohio. However, that region, and its people, are a part of who I am and who I will become. My childhood growing up playing freely in the woods  and not coming home until dark was close to ideal. The woods near my childhood home are still beautiful. 

  I am Appalachian. Ask me about the area that formed me. Boycott _Hillbilly Elegy_. 

  Sarah McCarren 

   11//27/2020

 

Tired of Surviving: Need to Look Towards Thriving

        Accurate graphic of what many of us feel as we are rounding 8 months of COVID Life

It has been over 8 months, and I am TIRED. 

I get plenty of sleep, but I am more TIRED now than I've ever been--- even during my darkest mental health days of youth. 

COVID has forced us into our cocoons. I have not hugged my parents since February. I miss seeing smiles of people-- especially at church I wear the mask every time I go out in public, and it is still nightmarish to walk around in Face Covered Zone. 

I wear the mask, protecting myself and others from a virus that is deadly. 

My body is totally alive, but my soul is in half-life mode most of the time. 

There has been good news during these smile-less months. Brian's NHL team, the Tampa Bay Lightning, won their Stanley Cup. My Pittsburgh Steelers professional football team remain undefeated so far. Adults will soon occupy the White House. Brian and I can and do attend in-person church on Sundays. Only one person I know has died from COVID-- although several have fallen ill with it.  A vaccine is in the works. Hurricane season is done for six months. 

But still: COVID continues to rob humanity of so much--- even as we stay alive and physically healthy. My grandmother is dying, and restrictions keep most of her kin away from her funeral Mass and burial . Brian and I are staying home--- and NOT seeing my brother and his family this week. I've not been to an in-person Bible study since February. While I am grateful for Facebook Live & Zoom-- I feel the wear and tear from living a digital life. 

Florida's governor still refuses to issue a statewide mask mandate.  While numbers in other regions of the nation are higher than ours here, this state still needs to reign in " La Rona". People still refuse to give up their perceived " freedoms" so that all of us can stay safe and healthy. 

I am TIRED of giving up living in favor of existing while others selfishly refuse to behave in such a way that controls this plague. 

My soul is sick from the work of survival. People need to do their part, too, so that we ALL can start thriving again. 

Sarah McCarren

24 November 2020

" Almost Normal" Weekend with " My People" In God's Front Yard.

Photo of a tree near the labyrinth on the Campus of Beckwith Retreat and Conference Center in Baldwin County, Alabama. Photo taken by The Pensacola Hippie. 

 For the first time in weeks, I enjoyed a somewhat " normal" slice of pre-COVID life. Forty or so of we " Christophers " from church gathered for a physically-distant yet very emotionally & spiritually close weekend of outdoor fun, on the banks of Weeks Bay in southern Alabama. 

  Never fear -----all measures were in place for physical distancing & safety during this pandemic. Those of us who came to the retreat without spouses or other household members slept in a private room. Assigned seats were the rule in the dining hall-- households sat together and the few of us where came solo sat in our own little unit. Masks were mandatory in chapel and other indoor public spaces & most of the evening fellowship occurred outdoors around a campfire. 

                                   Campfire Friday evening. I'm convinced that fire pits are sanctuaries--- especially Beckwith fire pits!  Photo by The Pensacola Hippie

My assigned table in the mess hall. As much as I missed my spouse, I enjoyed the quality time I had at meal time with both my rector & a woman whom I'd not known at all before this weekend. Table fellowship with my people is something that I miss. I give thanks for the opportunities to connect & re-connect with some of my parish family.  Photo by The Pensacola Hippie. 

 We enjoyed worshipping together both at the outdoor chapel and in the main one. Masks were worn by all while worshipping indoors, and we enjoyed music by a pianist and one soloist.  Chairs were spaced out to allow for plenty of room. 

On Friday evening, one of our Godly Play storytellers presented the Parable of the Mustard Seed , and it was well-received by both children and adults The parish children had not heard an " in-person" Godly play story in months and they were excited for this familiar experience. For months, we storytellers have only been able to offer stories via Facebook live, and for me, it was a blessing to a story told while sitting on the floor with a circle of people I love. 

  I spent a lot of the daylight hours on Saturday kayaking on the bay. The wind made for  bumpier-than-usual rides, but I managed to use all the skills I'd practiced all summer to stay safely inside the kayak.  While on the water, God blessed me { and others} with the gift of seeing a pod of dolphins! I felt a kinship with these beautiful, intelligent aquatic mammals as I paddled around . 

 In spite of a knee issue, I managed to get down to the pavilion and shoot some basketballs with one of the parish children. It was weird, but weird in a good way, to hear my Dad's coaching advice come from my mouth 

"  Plant your feet. Shoot from the waist! "

 " Let's see a long pass. " 

  "I see you are showing off now. " { as the child tossed the basketball facing AWAY from the hoop}

  "Look up when you dribble. That's it! "  

In these strange times, I am grateful for any opportunity to be with people I love.  COVID has robbed humanity of many opportunities, but safely spending time with " my people" in " God's Front Yard" this weekend is balm for my aching soul. It was truly a beautiful weekend-- one that will be remembered as a bright light in the otherwise dark Year 2020. 

~Sarah McCarren 

 

History { HERstory?} Being Made

 

                             Photo of VP-Elect Kamala Harris' parents. Unknown source for photo. 

     For the first time, the United States of America will have a Vice-President who is :

     ~ A Woman

    ~ A Person-of Color. 

Now I know that some well-meaning people in my life will say" But Gender does not matter." 

 It matters. I'm in my mid-40's and this is the first time a person of my gender will be ' a heartbeat away from the Presidency." Harris' candidacy is not the FIRST time a woman was on the Presidential ticket. I remember both Geraldine Ferraro and Sarah Palin on tickets. The Mondale-Ferraro ticket happened when I was in elementary school. Like Penny Kirkman in the show _Designated Survivor_, I thought that it would be great to maybe have a Vice President who was a " girl". 

Other people whom I know and love will insist that Kamala Harris' skin tone is "not a big deal"  Ask a Black or Brown woman if seeing someone who looks like them attain the second-highest office in the nation matters. I may be White as snow-- but I am a proud Aunt to a beautiful mixed-race little girl { and her equally adorable brother}  Little " Miss L" can look at the incoming Vice President and see a woman who looks like her. 

   Our incoming VP is also the child of two immigrants. Unless we are of 100 percent First Nations DNA-- ALL Americans are descended from immigrants. Some people either do not know their own family history-- or choose to think that their Whiteness excluded them from " descended from immigrants" status. Those of us , such as myself, who are descended from 100 percent European ancestors also have an advantage. 

I understand if people do not agree with Harris' politics, but to disparage her because she is  woman-- or a woman-of-color is disgusting. She'll never hear these foul remarks or read the tasteless and juvenile  yard signs I've seen here in Northwest Florida.  For instance, the guy who lies across the street from the home of one of my best friends kept a yard sign up that read Say NO to Joe And The Hoe. 

No , I am NOT exaggerating. It honestly says those sexist words. The sign is displayed so that ANYONE going by the house is seeing it. It saddens me that girls & women were subjected to those uncouth words on a constant basis. The First Amendment is NOT for name-calling. While it is within people's RIGHTS to post signs in their yards, it should be a RESPONSIBILITY shared by all for the content of their signs. Don't like Democrats? Fine. But to place a sign that disparages a candidate simply for her gender is irresponsible. 

I'm glad that I helped make HERstory with this election. 

~Sarah

 

In A Year of TROUBLE , It is hard to trust in JOY

 Sunrise at Beckwith. Worth waking at the butt-crack of dawn to see. Photo by The Pensacola Hippie 

      One lesson that I am taking away from Year 2020 is that nothing is set in stone. Plans, and intentions to make plans, are as fickle as the sand on a windy beach day 

      All of us are struggling through this pandemic, crazy election cycle, and other various issues. 

      Keeping an eye on the future is essential for our well-being. It is not healthy for humans to " wallow" in our self pity and frustration, and it is essential for our mental health to seek coping practices.

    However, it is hard to look to the future with hopeful anticipation when this year has brought nothing but heartaches. The pandemic has put a stop to many of the social things that humans take for granted. Additionally, we on Florida's Gulf Coast must overcome the main bridge across our bay being torn up by the storm. 

   As much as I make time for prayer, safe socializing with people whom I trust, and spending tie in Nature: I am afraid to fully trust in the future.  I, long with everyone else, has been forced to ' let go' of so much this year--- I don't know if my brain will rewire full to handle hopeful anticipation  

   The events of this year have caused me to put up a mental block against disappointment. For instance, the Parish Retreat is {as of right now} still scheduled for this weekend. Yesterday, we took the truck into the ship for a brake job and were told it needs MORE work. The mechanic needed to order a part, so we are without a vehicle and at the mercy of the mechanic. 

   My stress level is THROUGH THE ROOF.  As my priest advises me, I am doing my best to " not borrow trouble" but the events of these past few months leave me weary to hope that these plans-- plans with my beloved family-of-choice at one of my favorite places on Earth-- are also at the mercy of Year 2020. My spouse promises that he will get me there tomorrow late afternoon--- even if we need to rent a car for the weekend. { Honestly he is the best spouse ever----- no lie!!} 

   Yet Truck Debacle is one more item to add to the shitty laundry list that is 2020. 

   I do not know when, or if, my psyche will recover from this year's events. Looking for the Peace of God every day is hard. 

  I'm so tired, God, of waiting for the next " shoe to drop". 

~Sarah

White Squirrel sightings and signs of hope

One of our white squirrel neighbors . It was eating, and I got close enough to get a decent photograph. I've seen these critters more often lately. Photo by The Pensacola Hippie. 

During this past week, I have seen both of the WHITE { not albino} Squirrels who live in the tress on our street. Usually they are too fast-- I am just afforded a quick peek as the camper away. 

Today, however, I found one of the snowy rodents eating its breakfast . Carefully I put my phone in camera mode & stealthily walked closer. White Squirrel continued to eat. I caught its eye as my camera captured an image of the squirrel casually eating. When I arrived home I edited the raw photo & saw that the camera had caught the squirrels blue eye. 

In many cultures, the appearance of a white-coated mammal usually is seen as an omen . 

This year has been hideous--- but I cannot help but think that The Holy Spirit, in Her wisdom, is trying to reassure me that hope, peace and love will prevail. Two days ago, I finally allowed myself to feel a thin thread of hope during this awful year.  Yet I know that there is much sadness, anxiety and sense of loss among us. 

Perhaps the White Squirrel has been showing itself often to remind to persist. Squirrels are tenacious creatures, and in these scary, divided , uncertain times we all need to on keeping on. 

Persist. God has all of us no matter for whom we voted, in God's Hands. Perhaps White Squirrel is reminding me that there is much to be done to bring divided hearts and minds together--- to see each other as God sees us 

We as Americans , and especially as Christians, have much to do to even begin to heal this pandemic-stricken, isolated, divided human family. 

We need each other--- regardless for whom we voted. Christ calls us to rest in Him, and to be the best version of ourselves. Work hard. Persist. Never give up fighting the good fight. 

Amen

~Sarah

 

Thoughts on Election 2020 from an Irish/Jewish American Christian Democrat

 

              Photo of me. I m a blonde-ish, blue-eyed light-skinned American Christian of Jewish      descent. Photo by Brian. 

This Collect is especially apropos for today, and the days to follow. 

  "Almighty and everlasting God, whose will it is to restore all things in your well-beloved Son, the King of kings and Lord of lords: Mercifully grant that the peoples of the earth, divided and enslaved by sin, may be freed and brought together under his most gracious rule; who lives and reigns with you and the Holy Spirit, one God, now and for ever. Amen."

   After four long das, the US Presidential election has been called. Joe Biden and Kamala Harris are declared as the next Administration. As I was reminded, there are still some official election-related hoops that must be cleared before January. This is true. 

   Its been a LONG few days of vote-counting, and the stress that ALL Americans felt was palatable. None of us were " our best selves" as we waited for some sort of closure { the human mind doe not endure open-endedness very well} I said some things on social media that were inappropriate. I apologized. 

  I was wrong to be ugly with my words. I owned it-- I apologized. 

  But I cannot help but feel real JOY.  While I totally understand party loyalty { after all , I am a Democrat} , it is good to see that enough people put Nation before Party Loyalty. Unlike any other election that I can recall, this one was not a mere political football game. I, and so many others I love had much to lose . To be honest, many Americans still have much that we could lose. 

For instance, as a woman, my right to make reproductive choices for myself is no longer a sure reality. yet others I know still lie under the threat of their marriages being declared invalid.  Many more of the working poor in this nation can keep their health insurance for now. We are still in the middle of a worldwide pandemic that has killed hundreds of thousands of Americans of all stripes. 

  As a person of Ashkenazi heritage, I've watched anti -Semitism craw out from under its rocks . While Black and Brown people have been targeted by racists much more than Jews, half of my DNA has put me on high alert . There have been moments in my youth in Northern Appalachia where I have been the recipient of ethnic slurs against Jews. 

  Many White people simply do not understand how threatening it is to be a minority. I'm not Black, but I can speak as a person of Jewish-America heritage who grew up in rural northern Appalachia. Where I came of age lacked both Black people & Jews. I remember the " N -word" being thrown around by neighbors when my younger brother brought home a Black friend for the weekend. It was damn hard growing up where I did  & maintaining the values with which my parents installed in me.  In retrospect, I think my Jewish heritage gave me a heart for justice & equality from an early age.  Growing up, the only Bible stories I really knew were from the Old Testament-- especially the Torah. 

  All this to day that, although I am a Democrat, my values are what leads my vote-- and my experience of being a minority reinforces my values that the nation I love must be the land of the free for ALL our people. 

  To my dear ones who did not vote for Joe Biden, I love you and I see you. It sucks to feel like your political " team" lost-- I know. I hear you and your frustration today. But I also ask that you hear me. think about others  who, like me, depend on government-funded health insurance. Think of your Black neighbors who have needlessly lost so many in their communities due to violence. If you, like me are married to a spouse of the opposite gender, please remember that others LEGAL rights to marry the adult they love wasn't always possible. 

  I do believe that Democrats & Republicans both love this great nation. We , at our best, just see purely political issues { such as deficit spending} differently. Yet when people's civil rights are on the chopping block, that is where I cannot budge.  Since this is true I think that we should take this moment to remember how diverse we are. 

  Go in Peace..

  ~Sarah