Covid and Communicating Consent

If there's one thing I'm learning from the recent survey about children's participation in worship and Sunday school (to which you may still respond!) it's that many of you are very hesitant about including children in indoor activities until there is a vaccine available to those under 12. Right now that looks like some point in September.

Until then, we will begin to meet as a congregation, both outdoors and indoors. Many - if not most - of our adults and teens will be vaccinated may be starting to feel pretty okay with closer contact and un-masked interactions (though our current policy will be for everyone to be masked indoors). But children are still vulnerable.

I'm wondering if this is a time to brush up on how we talk about and communicate consent related to our and our kids' space. If you've participated in Zoom worship or listened in afterwards in the past couple of weeks, you'll have heard Pastor Megan preaching the gospel of consent. Because for so long we've been podded with the same folks, we may have grown accustomed to knowing (or thinking we know) the desires and expectations of the people we're with. Now that we're venturing out into the world a little more, we need to negotiate, check in, test assumptions.

Practice helps! The other day on the way to meet up with a friend, my six-year-old was talking about what he was going to tell his friend. While not intentionally hurtful, what he was planning to share might not have gone over that well. I suggested an alternative, so did he. He tried out his new suggestion. We practiced. Having conversations about consent might also look like that: before an encounter, deciding what to say, how to say it in a sensitive way, trying out different ideas. Parents, we might also have to practice how to talk to other parents about our expectations.

Folks, I've shared it before (a long time ago) but it's worth sharing this chart from Liz Kleinrock, an educator and anti-bias, anti-racism trainer. So much of consent is about communication and respect, not just of another person's body but about their autonomy. May we all have both grace and respect for each other. And may this time of increased sensitivity to the vulnerability of others continue to live in us going forward.

We voted! Now what?

One of the fascinating things about having the classroom in my living room has been the window into what teachers and students talk about and how teachers are building a classroom culture and community. It's also been a huge learning experience for me in pedagogy. How do you respond to questions? How do you encourage taking turns? How do affirm ideas and encourage critical thinking.

This week and last, I've been listening in on the Southshore kindergarteners talking about voting and the election. They started with the book Grace for President, in which Grace notices that there are no women in the row of pictures of presidents, decides to run for president of her class and then shows her leadership ability through her contributions to her school and community.

The kindergarteners were encouraged to notice in the words and pictures the kind of person Grace is, what good leadership looks like, how her words matched her actions. In subsequent days their class moved on to comparing real life candidates. First for Washington's 37th district and then for president. She presented points of the candidates platforms and then the children were invited to think about who they would vote for. I appreciate the respect that our schools teachers have for children's opinions and the way they encourage them to say more, ask questions and challenge each other - even in kindergarten.

Two years ago I wrote about voting and the election with annoyance. I was annoyed both because at the time I couldn't vote and because I was frustrated with what I felt was the implication that voting is the only way one can participate in democracy or enact change. My opinion has changed somewhat - at least a little and at least in part because I can vote now - but I stand by a few of the things I said then.

What has changed in 2020 is that, yes I can vote now but also there truly is much more at stake. What hasn't changed is my understanding how much more there is to engaging in change for justice than voting. I think this is a message particularly important for children and youth to hear. After all, they can't vote. And yet their voices are so important to our communities. Even kindergarteners have opinions about what's important. And they can march and make signs and write reps and get educated and post to social media.

The other thing that hasn't changed and that will never change is that nationhood is not what defines us as followers of Jesus. And it's our desire for a just peace is rooted in the Biblical call to justice. And that something that none of our kids aren't going to get in their classrooms, no matter how well they're being formed as citizens.

It's up to us as families and as a church family to tell the stories of Jesus and other biblical characters who interrupted for the sake of justice: Jesus' crossing boundaries to sit with the woman at the well and telling stories of good Samaritans. Peter sharing God's love with the Ethiopian eunuch. The prophets demanding justice that rolls like water. Whatever this week brings, our work as citizens and as disciples continues in our families and in our communities. May God bless us in this holy calling.

Just Enough for Today

You know, having said it so often, that we don't choose our preaching texts, and that the Narrative Lectionary really throws us some curveballs sometimes. This Sunday, when we're readying to celebrate a baptism, is no exception. The symbolic receiving of renewed life through an outpouring of water on the same day when our scripture is rooted in the arid dryness of water withheld. God's anger has been raised at the king Abah, worshiper of foreign gods - in particular Baal, the god of thunder, rain and fertility - and God has caused the land and sky to dry up.

Baptism or no, we begin our story in drought and famine. An international crisis of epic proportion. Death is every present. Anxiety and fear are the norm. Now this sounds pretty familiar. We don't choose our texts, but there is something about this story that feels very real. In the midst of this drough we meet a woman in Zarephath. She seems to be the head of her household, so once she may have been wealthy or at least self-sufficient but at the point when we meet her she is beyond hope. She is very matter of fact about it: "I am going to make a meal for myself and my child." She says. "We will eat it - and then we will die."

This is a mother who is at the end of her rope. She is trying to weather a drought, she is responsible for a household, she is caring for her child. She is weary and fearful. She is ready to die. And Elijah the prophet comes along with the gall to make another demand of her - two demands! First, give me some water! Now, give me something to eat!

The mom in me wants to ask him, "Now, how to ask for something politely??" I do hear the weariness and exasperation in this mom's voice. The defeatism: I literally have a handful of flour and enough oil for a meager meal for myself and my child before we starve to death. Seriously?

Now I am a person of relatively stable mental health. And I have good resources and pretty reasonable practices of self care. But even I have days during this famine of COVID where I am at the point of collapse. And I know that there are those among us who are truly struggling with diagnosed mental illness and feeling hopeless. For y'all, I pray that you will find the resources that you need.

Though that is not me, there are days when it feels like there is so little left in me to give, that all I'm experiencing is a string of demands (some of you may identify) - meetings, newsletters and sermons to write, of course. But also kindergarten to supervise and homework to help with, meals to provide and care to offer, the constant stream of demands, "Mom, look at this." "Mom, I need…" "Mom, can I have…" "Mom, give me…" If Elijah had come along to me, when I'm down to the last of my emotional and physical resources I might have answered something like the widow did: I'm already starving to death! And if he'd said - as he did to her, "Do not fear, just make me a cake." I might have laughed like loon.


On this All Saints Day, truly, I recognize this woman as a Saint. Because she does not laugh like a wild thing. She believes him. A stranger to her and a foreigner. She believes him when he says, when you help me, God will provide enough for all of us each day. Today, and tomorrow, and then the day after, and the day after and the day after, until this drought is at an end. She believes him. And she offers hospitality from the last of her supplies.

Though I may have a hard time hearing the words, "Do not fear," there actually is something comforting about the idea of just having to make it through today and then tomorrow will have enough for tomorrow. And the next day, enough for that day. Between Elijah and the widow and her son and household, they create a little famine bubble - a bubble in which each day they make it until the next day.

Part of what helps them make it to the end of the day is that tiny community they've formed. And I have absolutely found a way to make it each day when I've been in community with some of y'all - whether that's a corn maze with some jr youth and their families, or talking to children in Sunday school or dropping by with meals for families. Some days it's a choice for baptism and community in the middle of a pandemic. It's the joy of seeing someone choose hope and new life. It doesn't fill me up. None of it will completely satisfy. I know it doesn't fill y'all up either. But it gets me through today.

Friends, I had a really good day or two this week. And I had tears this week. That's the way our days go now. This week especially, when our hopes and our anxieties are especially heightened, I truly pray that you will find each day the meal that you need to live through that day. That you will reach out to people and that people you need will reach out to you. May your flour jar and jug of oil have enough - just enough to make it to the end of this famine that we're all in together. Amen.

A Hot Holy Mess

When Megan talked in her sermon this past Sunday about Hannah's hot, holy mess of a life, which she brings before God in prayer, I thought, "Yup, sounds about right." The hot mess part, anyway. It doesn't much feel holy. 

 
Last week you didn't get a Midweek Message from me because of the hot mess of the Epp Hamilton household, including: very noisy window construction/replacement (also a literal mess), two full-time working adults and children doing online school, one of whom needs constant oversight, a COVID scare, which turned out to probably be Norovirus, but which was still very unpleasant, and the increasingly dark and stormy weather. I'm not trying to complain or seek sympathy, I just want to say: Folks, I'm right there with you in the very messy middle of this pandemic.

At our recent meeting of the 'Discerning Returning Team' (increasingly this seems like a misnomer, since we're definitely not returning to gathered in-person worship any time soon) we acknowledged how difficult the labor of families with young children is at this time. Even when things are going pretty well, there is emotional labor we parents are doing constantly in caring for our own mental health and the mental health of your kids.

But even though last week was a really big bummer, I've had some lovely highlights in the past few weeks. Every year we gift our 3rd grade students with Bibles, recognizing that by this age they're good readers and critical thinkers and ready to have a Bible of their own. I visited with the 3rd grade families on front porches and in backyards and got to see what's up in their families and say hello to their pets. It was so lovely.

So yes, life is messy. So messy that it makes me want to (and sometimes causes me to) scream in frustration and helplessness. But in my more grounded moments I realize that God is right there with me. And you are there with me. And there are these beautiful bright spots in the midst of it: the brilliant red leaves on my neighbor's maple tree outside my new windows, long walks - with my kids and without them, finding I might be a dog person after all, and the hope of seeing more of your faces in the coming weeks.

All that is very holy - just filled with the Divine. I pray that you too find the holy in the mess of each day. I hope to see a few of your kids in Sunday school this Sunday for a story and game and to see how they're doing. If not, I look forward to seeing your faces in person.

Why Bodies Matter to God

1 Corinthians 15:20-26, 51-57

When I read texts like this, I remember why I do not gravitate to Paul and why I stay away from the epistles generally. I’d rather stick with Jesus. It’s a struggle sometimes, but What Would Jesus Do? works a lot better for me than What Would Paul Say? Because he says soooo much! In fact I cut out the beginning of the very long reading assigned, which began with a bunch of if-then logic which makes my brain get all twisted up. (but if you follow the scripture link in the chat you can read the whole thing and try to make sense of it yourself).

The fact is, though, the early church only had some oral histories of Jesus and stories like Paul’s of his appearances to the disciples. So they struggled in the same way that we do to understand what it means to be a disciple. That’s the reason Paul went on so long - trying to help them make sense of Jesus. In this passage he’s responding to questions we all have now more than ever: Why do these bodies of ours suffer? What do we do with chaos? How do we deal with death?

This week on a walk, Orie asked if we could look for the dead bird. We’d seen the carcass of a dead robin a couple days previous and he wanted to return to the scene. In fact we have also inspected the bodies of a dead mole and a dead rat on our walks. In our world, death is real. It surrounds us every day in every statistic. And for many of us - for many of you - it is more real and painful and wrenching than the bodies of creatures found in the grass and at the side of the road. It’s family. It’s fearful. Those questions that Paul and the Corinthians had - we have them too.

Paul’s lens of understanding death - and life - is Jesus. He takes the problem of death and remembers his experience of a resurrected Jesus, who appeared to him and so many in a resurrected and transformed body, and applies that understanding to the problem. As I read Pauls’s words over and over this week, at first it seemed to me as if he was trying to deny death, to spiritualize the reality of death: asking rhetorically where is it’s sting? and proclaiming victory through resurrection. Death swallowed up by life? That’s what is hard to swallow.

These verses in 1 Corinthians 15 are a boiling down of Paul’s theology: God cared enough about the stuff of creation - earth and flesh and plants and water - that God became a part of it. In a human body that suffered and died. And that lived again. We’ve all heard of the dad-bod. Jesus had a God-bod. And, in fact we are all God-bods. Cathryn Schifferdecker, a Lutheran Bible scholar, tells her students, “matter matters.” Our bodies and the stuff of this earth is important to God, our creator.

Bodies matter so much to Paul that it is essential to his theology that they not just disintegrate and disappear into the universe. That they don’t, like the mole and rat and robbin, return to the earth. Paul believes our bodies are important and beloved by God. We are not two easily separated halves - body and soul - but whole beings in which both are sacred. So in death, believes Paul, our bodies will be transformed, remaining whole in the presence of God.

We have zero proof of what happens to our bodies or our spirits after death. I expect that we in our congregation believe many different things about that - just like the Corinthian Christians did. But we all have bodies. We love people and creatures who are embodied beings. And if we do believe in a Creator God who was intimately involved in piecing together the cells of leaves and the atoms in microbes and the fur and feathers of rats and robbins, and our own selves and spirits, then we are matter that matters - we have and we are God-bods.

I believe that means where we put our bodies and how we treat our bodies and what we do with our bodies - and the bodies of others - matters to God. Jesus, the original God-bod was our model: beginning from his birth as a fragile infant body, which we can imagine because like little baby Jedidiah, we have been and we have held and cared for bodies like that. And to his teenage body, nurturing his spirit and feeding his intellect in the temple, which we also know through our experience of study and discernment in community. Jesus' body spent years in a ministry of healing and feeding bodies and we follow his example in our care for and relationships with all manner of folks whose bodies and spirits long for wholeness. Jesus allowed his body and spirit rest, and like him we seek solace and sabbath. And finally he submitted his body to a violent and painful death in his dedication to God’s reign over all. But finally finally his body was resurrected.

I do not know where my body will be after death, nor in that coming day, though I want to believe that somehow I will be joined with my creator. I do know where my body is now. It is on the path with the bodies of animals decomposing into soil, and also flying and scurrying and hopping through the grass. It is with my dear ones and it is being broadcast through mystery and science to be beheld by your bodies. Our bodies are beloved. May we love them. May we love the bodies of all God’s creatures.

Wash Your Hands...And Someone Else's Feet

God knows, by now it has been drilled into us how important it is to wash our hands so we can protect ourselves and our neighbors from spreading disease. Hand washing is almost a religion unto itself, what with the regularity of practice and the accompanying singing. We haven't given our feet much thought, though. Except, in my case, to mourn the sad state of my pedicure.

Over the last couple years, one of my favorite services at SMC has been the Maundy Thursday meal and footwashing service. I have always loved footwashing since my time worshiping in the Evangelical Mennonite Church in Manitoba, where it's practiced somewhat more regularly than in other Mennonite denominations. It's a tactile time of worship that allows us to engage the story of Jesus and our commitment to service and to each other with our bodies. It is an intimate and caring act that we can do for each other in community. (One of my favorite reflections on Maundy Thursday here.)

At SMC it has been special because particularly in recent years we have been intentional in making it simple and accessible to families with kids, which also has meant that as a leader I've been able to participate with my own kids, and that it's been okay to be a little less formal and a little more loose.

I don't think that this informality has made it any less meaningful. Certainly not for me and definitely not for the smallest person in my life. Regularly - maybe once a month - since last Maundy Thursday that person has asked whether it's footwashing time. It never is, of course, until now. But now we won't be able to gather with our friends to serve each other in this way. It is a real sadness for me.

That is why I wanted to create a liturgy - still as simple and accessible as possible - for families like mine to practice at home. Options for a family of one to as many as are in your household, reading the story or reflecting on an image. Even washing hands if feet aren't your thing. I am comforted by the knowledge that even in our separate places we'll be sharing something of this day of loving service.

You can access the liturgy at the google doc if you want to give it a try.  We won't be with our church this year, but in the meantime here is a picture from last year that still delights me and makes me tear up a little.

Back to Our Senses

This morning on the podcast "Seattle Now" education reporter Ann Dornfeld talked to several parents who were trying to figure out the balance of getting their own jobs done and caring for and educating their kids. There was a great variety of experiences but needless to say everyone is feeling stretched and unfocussed. And some are finding some bright spots in time spent with family in new ways.

My bright spot in what has been a stressful time of sharing a relatively small home in which both of the adults are trying to still do our jobs full time, including connecting through online meetings which require attention and focus, has been walks. We're all going on a lot of walks. And walks can start feeling monotonous too, even in this beautiful city and especially for kids and teens who would rather be at a playground or hanging out with friends.

When I can go for a walk my myself I will often listen to music or podcasts or books. Obviously not possible when you're walking with others. So I've found a couple of the things have made walks a little more interesting when we're walking together. The first is scavenger hunts (this one is especially for the little one, who loves to check things off of a list) that I've found online or created - with pictures for non-readers. I thank my mother, the retired teacher, for turning us onto this suggestion. Orie has started making his own scavenger hunts to bring on walks, which is great because that's one less thing I have to prepare.

The second is a mindfulness practice that you may have seen if you follow me on Instagram (@amymarieepp). It's a practice that invites you to pay attention to the moment and your body. And it works great at any age. When I feel like I've been focusing to hard on something or I've been staring at a screen too long, or my mind is racing, or my body is tense, this is a great way to slow down and check in with myself. On a walk, it's a way to notice both our bodies and our surroundings.

Take a few deep breaths. Now notice with your senses. Identify the following:

• 5 things you can see
• 4 things you can hear
• 3 things you can feel
• 2 things you can smell
• 1 thing you can taste.

On the walk with my kids yesterday we were seeing things like flowering trees, clouds in the sky and neighborhood cats. Hearing the birds, the crunch of our feet and the wind. We felt the drops of chill of the air and bent down to feel the rain on the grass. We smelled the someone cooking and thought we could take how fresh the air was. It did almost turn into a competition of who can name things first, but overall it was a lovely practice and turned into an eye-spy like game of noticing and naming other things we saw and heard on our way.

Some of y'all may be experiencing this time as slower and more spacious, but many of us are doing double duty. Nurturing ourselves and the ones we care for is hard! I thank God for gift of moments that bring us back to our senses and allow us to experience the moment and each other. 

--

images: (top) a forsythia in a neighbor's yard; (above) scavenger hunt in action

Shifting Ground and Grounding Rhythms

Do y'all know about the podcast 99% Invisible?  It  looks at elements in the designed world that we largely take for granted and tells stories about them.  This week's episode, "This is Chance" is about the 1964 Alaska earthquake and the voice one woman who kept her community grounded.  Genie Chance was the local 'newsgirl' and it was her presence on the airwaves of the one still-functioning, back-up-generator-powered radio station that held the community together and connected Alaska to the outside world.

I listened to this story about how the ground literally shifted and swayed and buckled under the feet of those Alaskans.as I was already thinking about the way the ground is shifting in a different way for us.  The terrain looks different each day and possibly each hour - more recently the stay-home order - and probably it will look different tomorrow again.  No one knows how long this will last or when the landscape of the corona curve will finally flatten. And at the same time, one day slides into the next as

I'm not one of those parents who has implemented a color coded schedule or rigorous expectations of my kids.  I don't even understand parents who are talking about 'homeschooling' right now.  I can barely figure out what my own work is supposed to be in this new way of doing business.  I printed an activity sheet today for my five-year-old and I'm pretty sure the older one is doing some assignments on Schoology.  But there's a lot of screen time.

And yet, while there's no magnetic schedule posted on the fridge, we do have a routine and we do have some expectations of what gets done around the house or academically before the TV gets turned on.  And there is comfort in routine and rhythms.  One benefit of all being at home is that we're actually eating our evening meal together every day - which because of my spouse's usual late work hours didn't always happen before.  I try to take breaks during the afternoon to scooter in the driveway with Orie or go for a walk with Naomi. 

There is comfort in rhythms, including spiritual rhythms.  I cite Traci Smith and her book Faithful Families often because it's such a wealth of simple and doable family spiritual practices (and 50% off the kindle edition right now). One practice that I liked for right now is "five minute sabbath" (or even one minute sabbath).  Sabbath as a spiritual practice is marking a particular day, year or time to return ourselves and our resources to God.  We think of Sabbath as Sunday - or perhaps another day of the week.  Pastor Megan talk regularly about her Friday Sabbath practice.

Traci Smith suggests a set-aside time within a day or within an hour.  She also suggests making note cards and choosing practices at random.  But whatever - I'll just suggest a couple I like and also one of my own that I found on my friend the internet.  One suggestion for a one-minute sabbath is: go outside.  Notice what the weather is like.  Breathe deeply and take note of the feel of the air in your lungs.  Another is a breath prayer with the phrase, "I breath in God's love." "I breathe out worry and fear." Especially good right now!  Breathe!

Here are a couple of Smith's five-minute sabbath suggestions: write someone a note or gratitude or appreciation; find a poetry book or keep Psalms handy, read and reflect on a poem or Psalm.  The one I've like recently is to pay attention to my senses and notice: five things I can see, four things I can hear, three things I can feel, two things I can smell, one thing I can taste. The thing I can taste is usually coffee.

These are practices that kids could easily be pulled into - especially the embodied practices. Surely y'all can come up with creative one-five minute mindfulness practices that would be meaningful to you or your family. I would love to hear the ways that you are creating rhythms and inviting the Spirit into your own and your families life.  Or maybe it's just too hard to think about anything so systematic.  I'm curious about that too. 

This is an earthquake we weren't expecting.  God is with us now in the upheaval and will be waiting for us when we come out the other side.
--
image from the 99PI website, "The largest landslide in Anchorage occurred between Point Woronzof and Fish Creek"

Apocalypse Vision

My seminary-educated spouse is always reminding anyone who mis-uses the word that "apocalypse" doesn't actually mean "end of the world." It means "vision" or "revelation." It's true! The book of Revelation begins, "The revelation [or vision] of Jesus Christ, which God gave to him to show his servants what must soon take place..."

I have had some very down moments in the past few days. Because it really does feel like the apocalypse - and I do mean that in the end-of-the-world sense, regardless of my own seminary education. It's not just the idea of bunkering at home for weeks or months - I can probably deal with that okay - but the weight of knowing how many livelihoods will be affected by the need to stay away from work, how many will succumb to illness, how many businesses will be shuttered, how many have no place where they can shelter in place.

Under the weight of all of the above I am truly seeking ways to find lightness and peace and clarity of vision - apocalypse! Our Lenten theme, "We want to see" feels so true to my lived experience at the moment. Fortunately the way I see people coming together in virtual space and reaching out across distance is beautiful and grace-filled. And I'm finding lots of online resources. In fact, if I let it, the tidal wave of resources itself might be a little weighty and overwhelming! I've tried to wade through the wave and collected some things for you.

In no particular order, here are a few resources to find spiritual grounding while isolated:

Illustrated Ministry - illustrated prayers for coloring. I'm all about color and creativity. As far as I'm concerned this could be a starting place for creating one's own illustrated prayers/scriptures. Illustrated Ministry is offering freebies each week if you go to their website and sign up. Just click on the banner right at the top of the main page.
(And for fun not-necessarily-spiritual doodling, Don't Let the Pigeon Drive the Bus author Mo Willems is doing "Lunch Time Doodles" everyday at 1:00 Eastern for you to visit his studio and doodle along with him. I plan on introducing my pigeon-lovin' 4-year-old to these tomorrow.)
Pray as You Go - an app and website with a daily prayer, reading and meditation - includes resources for kids. Let me know if you use it and like it, I've only dabbled.
Pandemic Hope - an 8 week daily reading and faith practice. It's meant for families but could be used individually. Practices include things like "write out the alphabet and add something to pray for that begins with each letter" and "Take turns telling your favorite joke and thank God for filling our mouths with laughter".
Breath Prayers - Sarah Bessey offers a structure for a centering prayer practice that begins with imagining a sanctuary space, spending time focused on breath with a phrase, and an ending blessing. Breath prayer is excellent for centering when feeling anxious because of how embodied it is. And it's simple enough for kids to be able to engage very easily. She includes multiple phrases to use in times of anxiety, for example, from Psalm 3 "[inhale] I do not fear, [exhale] for you are with me."
Lauryn Hill in Sister Act 2: Joyful Joyful 90's gospel style. I watched this movie so often in high school and it crossed my social media feed today. Be careful, if you are like me you will not be able to see the end because of how teary your eyes got. So. Much. Joy. I'm totally going to go back and watch the whole thing and share it with my child (it's streaming on Disney+)
The Brilliance: I first heard their music at youth convention three years ago as played by the worship musicians. The Gravity of Love started playing in my earphones accidentally as I was working on this and I will be listening to it on repeat all day. I love the whole album. May it be a blessing to you as well.

This is the gravity of love
Just as the moon follows the sun
You're all around me
You're holding everything

This is the hope of every land
Just as the universe expands
You're love is reaching
You're holding everything

-
Photo by Pablo Varela on Unsplash

Covid Creativity

I just got the email (and text and voicemail and a text from Naomi): Seattle Public Schools will be closed for two weeks. Our kids are going to be so stir-crazy, needing to move their bodies and engage their minds. Parents too! Especially if you're the one stuck at home or already working from home. At least in my house, we'll be right on top of each other.

Since we're already not meeting for worship or Sunday school it may help to have a few practices that you can teach your child or engage in yourself for the sake of your sanity and spiritual health.

Praying in Color - on Sunday in the 'Children's Time' during Zoom Church I did a demonstration of 'Praying in Color'. If you have trouble sitting still, if you like the idea of prayer but coming up with words is a struggle, if you like to doodle, this might be for you. In the photo above I've started with a lent template and used a word list from Faithful Families as my prompt. Below, Marlene Kropf shared a colored prayer that she did while sitting for a chemo treatment this week. If you're not yet a reader/writer it's okay to use colors and pictures to express your ideas and prayers.

Walking Prayer - Thank God (literally) we can still go outside! As you walk to the park or the playground or grocery store, verbalize blessings and thanks using the the people and place you pass as prompts: Thank you God for the blooming trees. Be our elderly neighbor. Protect the person being attended to by that ambulance!

Butterfly Meditation - This is particularly great for times of feeling anxious or worried or as a bedtime practice. It helps get in touch with the body and slow down both body and mind.

Butterfly Jar - I did the thing! I suggested it a few Midweek Messages ago - I ordered butterfly larvae (aka caterpillars) online. Although I thought they might even be dead when they arrived, the teeny tiny caterpillars are indeed now big, fat caterpillars and everyday we look to see if they've begun to spin cocoons. Surely we will be giving thanks for new life a few weeks from now.

Plant a Garden - or if you don't have a garden, plant some seeds or tend some plants. Give God thanks for the soil and the sun and the water. Then watch John Denver sing 'Inch By Inch' with some Muppets.

Family Devotions - Before you dismiss this one out of hand (like I basically do) listen, I grew up with family devotions every. single. night. It's just not realistic for my family schedule or configuration. But maybe once a week with the right resource? And maybe in place of church? The linked folder has a one-page resource for each week of the next few months based on the lectionary texts. Use it (or even just part of it) if it's helpful to you. Or use it as a springboard for your own ideas that fit your context.

Keep meeting people - lean on church community for support and spiritual companionship. As long as we keep following best practices and public health guidelines, small group of folks are still okay to gather if taking the proper precautions.