Everyone Has Weeds

I’ve been looking with

disdain at the

weeds in front

of my porch, coming

up through the year-old

mulch. April and I pulled

them out weeks

ago, but the rain and

heat encouraged

their return.

I notice

across the street

where I’ve

been admiring my

neighbor’s beautiful

multi-colored petunias,
that they are
also beset

by weeds—some

taller than the flowers.

It occurs to

me that everyone has

weeds. I take a walk with

Mother God through

the garden of my

heart. There’s that

harshness of speech that

keeps coming back no

matter how many

times I yank it out; and

anxiety and worry

come up through the

cracks around unbelief and

sloth. As through my

tears I once again

confess, She reminds

me to smell the fragrant

blooms and buds that

are also rooted

there.

from my porch

8/7/12

Nancy Perkins

Place of Worship

Sunday morning on my porch
Is this now my church?
My buttered toast and coffee
The wafer and the wine?
The passing runners
  and dog-walkers
My fellow congregants?
For 50 and more years
My church was brick and stone
Pews filled with believers
Joining voices in hymn and song
Preachers--some good some bad
Bringing the Word
I feel suspended in a space
Unable or unwilling
To participate in worship as usual
I claim my green porchchair
And sit before His Majesty
And wonder if He'll ever
Call me back inside
And if He does
Will I be willing
To leave the birds and trees and coffee
For a wooden pew and wine.

Sunday, July 1, 2011

In Between

Remember all those carefully thought-out choices?

Those end-of-life decisions on the bright pink paper?

Ending well?

It’s good in theory

I mean, the conversations were valuable

The boxes had to be checked.

But here we are

In between

Where pink paper choices don’t apply

Where blinks mean more than words

And the grip of a hand says volumes

Where truth and sense are trapped behind

Nods and shakes of the head

Where occasional words are applauded

Even when they just float there

Confined to bed and chair

Moving when others choose to assist

Even for the most personal needs

Good care—but what does that mean

When food falls down your chest

And diapers need to be changed

Ah, mother,

Here you are. In between your fulfilled life

And wholeness with the Father.

And we stand aside

And struggle to cooperate with the mystery*

Unfolding in our midst.

*From a quote by Sue Monk Kidd--Be still and cooperate with the mystery God is unfolding in you.

Struggling with my mother's condition following a recent stroke.

Nancy Perkins

July 2012

Peace of Morning

The choice
between breakfast
with family and friends
or coffee in my backyard
was not an easy one
But when I sat down on my stoop
with cup in hand
diamonds glistening in the grass--
rain drops
from last night's downpour
now catching
the rays of the sun--
I knew I made the right choice.
A little "peace" of morning.

Pentecost: Experiencing John 20:21

Breathe sweet Jesus
Breathe your holy breath
Into my ears, my nose, my mouth
That all my senses would be changed
Enlightened and heightened
To the sounds and smells and tastes of Your love
That my heart and soul would overflow
Onto the ones I love and touch
And my breath
Carry the fragrance
Of Your peace.
  
-Nancy Perkins
June 1, 2012

On returning from vacation...

It was perfect, I said

Every day was wonderful

I almost didn’t mind coming home

The time away was somehow complete

Now I’ve had time to reflect

On what made this trip to Jackson

So much more enjoyable and relaxing

Than any vacation I’ve had in a long time

I believe I may have

Figured it out—or at least

I think I have some insight into

What made this visit extraordinary

It’s a new way of seeing

Seeing with the eyes of the heart

Enjoying the possibility of each day

Living each moment to the very fullest

Living in my daughter’s space

Drinking morning coffee from her mug

Leisure walks through her neighborhood

Sleeping each night between her Toy Story sheets

Following Joanie (she's a lawyer)

From courtroom to judges chambers

Sitting across from her desk in her office

Talking—children, memories, things of the heart

Drinking coffee on the stoop

With Mom Perkins in her scooter

Laughing and enjoying abundant roses

My nieces running to do Grandma’s bidding

Reunion with friends

Watching Lisa and Jubilee

My mentor and teacher now

Offering her wisdom to my child

There’s more—more of family

And eating and shopping and friends

Krispy Kremes, E&L’s, Hal & Mals, and

Turning 60 among friends at Burgers and Blues

And now I sit and smile

And know that I am changed

That seeing with the heart is really

Seeing God and all His gifts more clearly

After a week in Jackson, Mississippi, April 2012

Ode to the Cabin: A Psalm of Nancy

Oh cabin

Place on earth so treasured

Place of fish and fire

Of green and blue

A simple offering

Of rustic walls

Of faith and renewal

Of freedom and play

Keeper of memories

Of laughter and tears

Of wailing in pain

Of hope restored

Balm for the spirit

Of longing and loss

Of belly laughs and beer

Of nights by the fire

A cathedral like none

Altars made of stone and tears

Our favorite place on earth.

April 2012

I decided to add this reflective paragraph that I wrote while sitting by the pond last weekend. It gives some insight into the history of the cabin's place in the lives of me and my children.

Father, my heart is full and overflows through my eyes as I dwell in your love and care--for creatures great and small, and for this widowed mother of three, whose lover is buried in Mississippi clay but whose soul speaks to mine in the plot of land that is the cabin. Even now, fourteen years later, I close my eyes and see him sitting by the island, white bucket of Mississippi night crawlers by his chair, his youngest daughter by his side; his son and first daughter manning their own rods for the blue gills Dad has taught them how to land.

I am so full it's ridiculous!