Mornings With Me: This is something I wrote while on retreat at the ...

Mornings With Me: This is something I wrote while on retreat at the ...: This is something I wrote while on retreat at the Jesuit Retreat House in Oshkosh Wisconsin in the summer of 2015. That was my first visit...

This is something I wrote while on retreat at the Jesuit Retreat House in Oshkosh Wisconsin in the summer of 2015. That was my first visit to the retreat house. I have not been able to go this year but I hope to get back there next year.

Ignatian Spirituality encourages the use of the imagination. This is my imaginative reflection on the story of the Woman at the Well from John's gospel.

I Have A Name

She was used to being stared at.  Ever since her first husband kicked her out of their home people had been staring at her.

“Well let them stare!”  Had she said that out loud?  She felt so alone that sometimes she blurted things out just to hear the sound of a human voice - even if it was her own.

Now, in the middle of the day it was finally safe to go to the well.  Everyone else was inside - out of this awful heat. No one would be laughing or whispering - or staring!

As she approached the well she saw him.  “Great,” she thought “a strange man at the well - just what I need.  What does he want? What am I thinking - all men want one thing and one thing only.”

Men had not treated her well in the past.  Once they knew she would never produce a child they tossed her into the street.

Well, no more!  She would not be bullied into pleasuring another man.  Five had thrown her out - six if you counted her own father.  So far this current one hasn’t seemed to care but she wasn’t about to give him an excuse to put her out of his house.  This stranger better deep to himself!

“He looks like a Jew” she thought.  “Better for me. He’ll keep his distance - wouldn't want to make himself ‘Unclean’ - what a joke”!

She got to the well.  So far, so good. He’s just sitting there in the shade of the well with his eyes closed.  Using the rope, she lowered her bucket and began the work of drawing water for her “household”.  Another joke. How can you have a household when there’s only the two of you and no children to care for?

“Oh, stop feeling sorry for yourself and get done so you can get away from the well before this guy wakes up”!

Before she could finish pouring her first bucket of water she heard his voice

“Give me a drink”

Who was he talking to?  Certainly not her. But she was the only one around.

Again he spoke - “Give me a drink”.  Never opening his eyes.

“Are you talking to me”?  She asked

This time he opened his eyes and looked at her.  “Give me a drink”. No, he didn’t look “at” her - he looked inside her.

“How can you ask me for a drink?  You’re a JEW! I’m a Samaritan - AND a WOMAN!  Why are you talking to me”?

“Give me a drink” he said a fourth time.

As she drew a skin of water for him from her bucket he added “If you knew who I was you would ask me for a drink and I would give you living water”.  She wanted to think he was crazy but there was something about him that made her stop and think about what he said. “No Photina,” he said, “I am not a crazy man.  I am the one who can deliver you from the pain and sorrow in your life”.

“PHOTINA!  He called me Photina!  How did he know my name?  Not “woman”, not “hey you”.  He called me by my name! He called me Photina”.  Her thoughts came so rapidly she had to sit down. And so she sat next to him in the shade of the well.  And they talked. It was as if she had always known him. No, it was as if HE had always known HER. He knew everything about her.  He spoke with kindness and with . . . what was it?

He spoke with Love.

He didn’t laugh.  He didn’t whisper. He didn’t stare and point.  He looked at her with gentle eyes . . . with kind eyes . . . with loving eyes.

Suddenly there were voices.  Men! Lots of them. A dozen or more!  Photina jumped up and ran home leaving her water jars behind.  She ran all the way back to her house - but she didn’t go in. she had to tell someone about this remarkable man.  She had to share this story. She had to be brave and take this good news to the people who had ridiculed her. The people who stared at ther!

But her heart was full and she couldn’t keep it to herself.

He called her by her name!

The First Day . . .

"Today is the first day of the rest of your life".
I've never really liked that phrase.  What does that even mean?
"Today is the first day of the rest of your life".
Another day.  Another chance to be a player on the stage of life. Another chance to be a part of the dance.  Another chance to feel the rhythm of nature pulling me along.
"Today is the first day of the rest of your life".
Another chance to hear that small whisper.  The voice of God calling me to my best life.
"Today is the first day of the rest of your life".
Ten years ago I listened to that whisper, the voice of God.  I started on a path of discovery.  I went back to school.  I tried to listen more closely.  I felt "right".
"Today is the first day of the rest of your life".
One journey leads to another.  I finished school and started on a path of discovery.  A 10 month retreat that some make in 30 days.  I walked with a wonderful guide and learned to listen to God even a little deeper.
"Today is the first day of the rest of your life".
I've always had a hard time trusting what I thought God wanted.  Now I'm learning to trust that my deepest desires are God's desires for my life.
"Today is the first day of the rest of your life".
Yesterday I left a job that I loved.  After nearly 22 years I don't go to that same place every morning.  I walked out a little sad but charged with enthusiasm for what lay ahead.
"Today is the first day of the rest of your life".
And for today, I will embrace that phrase and move ahead.

Then and Now

34 years ago . . .
I was a bedside nurse with 3 years experience.  I was chemo certified.  I was a preceptor and team leader.  At the time I couldn't imagine doing anything else.  I thought I would be a bedside nurse until I retired.  How things have changed and I would not trade any of it.  I have had a most amazing career, worked with some of the most wonderful, caring, dedicated people and been part of the unique world of healthcare in both community hospitals and academic medical centers.  I have been blessed with experiences of the divine at almost every turn - from co-workers to patients.  I am grateful beyond words.
34 years ago . . .
4th of July was a Wednesday - just like this year.  It was my holiday to work - not like this year!  Like most holidays, all of the patients who could go home had.  The patients we had left on Tuesday were too sick or in the middle of chemo.  It was a different time - patients came into the hospital for most of their chemotherapy.  And because they were admitted so frequently we got to know them well.  We knew their story.  We knew their families.  We knew their hopes and dreams and fears.  Those patients became part of my story.  I am who I am because of them.  I am grateful beyond words.
34 years ago . . .
I knew what I was walking into.  My co-workers on the night shift had already called.  I was sad and relieved at the same time.  It would not be the day I had planned.  It would be different.  And after that day it would always be different.  I was ready.  I am grateful beyond words.
34 years ago . . .
You stopped being my patient.  It was not to be.  You died.  Not for lack of a fight - you fought cancer, you fought your mom, you fought us, you fought your own demons.  You won every fight in your own indomitable way.  Your body could not sustain the fight against the cancer but your spirit never surrendered.  When I arrived at the hospital your family was already gone home.  I would see them later.  I walked into the room where your body waited for me.  I bathed you one last time.  I fixed your hair one last time.  I brushed some blush on your cheeks one last time.  And then I wrapped you for delivery to the morgue and went to take care of the rest of my patients.  I am grateful beyond words.
34 years later . . .
Once again change is upon me.  I don't know what the future holds.  I know that I have loved the work I've done and am not running away from anything but running toward something.  I am confident that there are great things ahead.  And I am grateful beyond words.

Changes

I can't believe it's been nearly 4 years since I've posted to this blog.  Much has changed, much is still the same.  One change is that I intend to leave some thoughts here on a more regular basis.  Thoughts about being a member of the "sandwich generation", thoughts about being a nurse, thoughts about being a wife and mom but mostly thoughts about what it means to be a beloved child of God and to take on my role as co-creator in God's world.
I hope you come along on this journey with me.  I hope you find something in my writing that speaks to your heart.  I hope we can celebrate mornings together - even if they come late in the night.