Part l Bud of Hope Part ll Gardening with God

Part l Bud of Hope

My garden is buried under several feet of snow with more predicted this week and temps that can be expressed with one digit.

May garden pot of hope appears below.

Several weeks ago, I went to out to empty dead plants so I could pot some tulip bulbs which had been cooling in my refrigerator in order to force them for Christmas time. Christmas was long past. I determined to throw out all the plants because the Patient Lucy (What a misnomer. There is nothing patient about Lucy and she got too cold next to the window and began to shrivel.) I turned the pot over and shook out the plants and then I saw it -----one little bud on the fuchsia. I could not let it die. It became my hope of spring, of resurrection, of new life. I put new potting soil, the six red tulip bulbs and the fuchsia and the hellebore back in the pot. each day my little bud is getting bigger and getting ready to open.

If you live in California, this probably doesn't make much sense. To refresh your mind, see photo of my window sill. Growing up in California, the fuchsias grew as huge bushes and as a child, I delighted in popping the bulbs just to hear them pop. I ask for forgiveness for my sins which are manifold and do trouble my soul.

The Christmas lights are still on the plants to help keep them warm. The rosemary especially loves the extra light and heat. Notice that one of the bulbs can be seen popping above ground in the photo. Only four more months until the sweet earth appears, again.

Part ll Gardening with God

I love to garden. I love to have an excuse to put my hands in the dirt. The rich sweet smelling, always changing, earth. The place I came from and will return to-----which brings me much peace. As I put on grubby clothes saying that I was off to garden, my children used to say "Mom is going out to play in the mud." I am not the best gardener. There is so much to know about plants. I have made every mistake possible. I have unwittingly pulled up good seedlings and nurtured weeds.

In the garden, while I'm visiting the plants, weeds and flowers, I often hear from God. My prayer life always gets the short shrift when I approach the formal process which I admit I need. The words of the Book of Common prayer wash over me and marinate my soul in the sure and certain hope of the resurrection and the assurance that God is in control. I don't pray formal prayers enough. However, in the garden, I not only request, plead and talk with God, God often answers me. Clarity comes when I hear God speaking in the garden.

I am God's servant and so the title of my blog is fitting, "gardener for God." I believe that I am called with all of God's people to tend this earth to restore paradise. When my children were young, I used to compare them to my garden. I was my work to tend them and to give them air and sunlight and water but I couldn't wait to see how they would turn out. What kind of flower would they be? This is how I see my ministry, also. I can preach and know what I intended but I have no control over what others take away. I cast my seed and it grows as God intends. I nurture my congregation trying to be faithful to how God is directing, and they will grow into the kind of flower they are. I pray that they will grow into the flower that God intends them to be and that my ministry with them helps encourage them in that direction.

God is all around us doing God's work

When I was in Los Angeles this summer, I went out into Echo Park across from the diocesan offices and conference center. I saw God. God usually shows up in a burning bush or a descending dove. This time God was dressed as a city sanitation worker. God was wearing an orange vest and was walking over the grass in the park picking up trash and putting it into a bag.

God was doing what God does best. Working to restore paradise while we go through our lives unaware. God is always at work. Unfortunately, we are usually looking for a burning bush or a dove. How comforting to know that even when we don't recognize what is happening, god is working to heal the broken places, to clean-up the messes we make, when we turn away from God.

There was God dressed as a tall black man in an orange sanitation vest. Thank you God for always being on the job.

Open the file, below. This is my project from the Kaleidoscope Institute July 2010, my inspiration for this post.

file:///Users/karencampbell/Desktop/KI%20Slide%20show%20project/

God Mend Thy Every Flaw

My husband loves to watch the Sunday morning news shows while we get ready for church. Sometimes, I get drawn into the conversation. This morning the emphasis was on the Tea Party movement and other conservative groups. At one of the rallies they were singing "America."

I dream of a day when I will preach about Katherine Bates who wrote the lyrics to this favorite hymn. I especially like the verse which prays, "God mend thy every flaw." Katherine was a lesbian. Most conservatives, if they knew this, would fall off the podium.

Imagine a world with no homosexuals. Some of our favorite music, literature, films, and scientific discoveries would disappear. More to the point friends, doctors, sisters, cousins, brothers, nurses, CEOs, teachers, military, would be no more. I do not want to live in this world without my friends and family whom I love. I don't want to live in this world in which many of the brightest and best would cease to be. Like Katherine Bates, I pray for God to mend our flaws.

Blessings, Karen

Waking in the dark

I seem to be on the "child" schedule. I am sleepy in the evening, going to bed earlier and earlier and waking before the dawn. I feed the impatient cats who do not understand that the dark world is dangerous and they must wait for the light to go out.

Once I was a "night owl." Convinced I did my best work after ten at night, I would work well past midnight. My internal clock is shifting and now I find myself more clear headed in the early morning hours. The blessing to this is that I can rise with the cats and the dog and while drinking a sweet cup of coffee, I can say my prayers in the silence. I never realized how peaceful the hours before dawn are.

Whatever your schedule, I hope that you find a quiet place to pray, to reflect on scripture and more than that to sit and let God love you. To do nothing but feel God's generous love enveloping you. We are too busy. We are too active. We feel compelled to do do do. Sometimes we need to just sit and feel God's love. Absorb the grace and peace, recharge our batteries, and reweave our connections with God.

I pray you may have a blessed day. May you see Christ in all the people you meet today. May you be surprised by God.

Blessings, Karen

Farewell to Good Shepherd

On May 30^th we held the final worship service at Good Shepherd Church. This 2 ½ hour service is available here. Kent McVey, a gifted piper and dear friend, shared his music along with 2 trumpeters (George Condon and Jason Cote) and our wonderful organist Linda Stevenson played our organ for the last time. During the sermon people shared their special stories about Good Shepherd. You will hear real tears and laughter as we said goodbye to our building that has sheltered many for 109 years.

Sharing Our Feelings

On May 16^th back in our own community, Good Shepherd parish shared thoughts on merging during the 10:00am worship service. This whole service is recorded and posted on this blog site.

Bishop Scruton at Good Shepherd

“The grace of the Lord Jesus Christ, the love of God, and the communion of the Holy Spirit be with all of you.” llCor 13:13

The Holy Spirit is very busy! Not only is it the season of Pentecost when we remember the first giving of the Spirit to the followers of Jesus but in the lives of my congregation the Holy Spirit has acted mightily.

During the season of Lent and the time of Holy

Week my parish, Good Shepherd, exchanged services with other parishes in our deanery (the North Worcester Deanery). On March 7^th you will find Bishop Gordon Scruton’s sermon preached at the time of his visit to Good Shepherd parish.

Following that date we attended other parishes and heard other preachers.