One post a month for the last few months.
That's just sad, as though I have no ability to think for myself anymore.

Well, I apologize. The things which I know I should do (like take time for my own thoughts) I do not do. And those things I do not want to do, I do. Oh wretched man that I am. Who will save me from this?

Today I taught my first two classes -
and nobody walked out. So that's good!

Despite my being drained from talking all morning and tired from not sleeping much the last couple days, I felt some strong feelings of fulfillment, which are always nice when you find them. Grace for the everyday (no, not you Gracie) - that fulfills me. When I find grace in those small tasks, I try to slow everything inside of me down just enough to open a space inside where I can fully accept that grace. I try to wait long enough to let the grace enlarge and then connect with the larger streams of God's graceful actions in the world. And when I do, I find that God visits that space inside myself. I think of that space as the place where God inhabits the praises of God's people. It happens also when I am able to open that space inside during a worship service at church. As that space opens, I feel myself being drawn into the ongoing praises of all creation. Sometimes when I pray, for others -usually not when I pray for myself, I feel that space inside open. And God comes. And simple prayers are drenched and then overflow with grace. And they are no longer my prayers, but begin to drown in the groaning of all creation for its Maker.

BLACK PEOPLE AT CHURCH!!!

Last Sunday our church hosted a dinner/celebration for diversity. It was quite a wonderful event. We had been telling Risa about the two parties we would be attending that weekend, one Friday night and one on Sunday night. She asks a lot of questions, so we had to explain to her what he parties were all about, what they were for, who would be there . . . etc . . .

Sunday morning, on the way to church she was asking again about the party that night, and we were explaining again the purpose of the party - "to celebrate our differences," we said. "Some people have red hair, like you, and some people have blond hair like Mom," I noted. Robin added, "Some people are black and some people are white." I continued, "Some people have elephants as pets, and some people smell really funny."

We got into the service and began singing worship songs. After about two songs I heard Risa saying "Daddy, Daddy." I looked down and she was pointing to the people down the row from us and added with a tremendous look of pride as though she'd solved a great puzzle, "Look! Black people!"

I smiled gently and returned to singing. When it was time for the offering, the pastor prayed, a girl came on stage and everyone was waiting for the music to start. Risa, confirming her new-found knowledge, again pointed and said louldy, "She's a black girl."

Well, by that time, I'd had enough. So I promptly picked her up, took her out to the lobby and laid a whooping on her! Can you believe her? Racist.