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