The Robb Elementary tragedy

Dear St. Mary’s,

I am sitting in the Godly Play room with 19 tiny candles lit and the only words that I can think to pray are “it’s too much.”

And when it’s too much, and when there aren’t words that do justice, it helps me to know that I am not alone in my grief.

So, let me tell you that if you are angry, afraid, exhausted, gutted, without comfort, and beyond broken-hearted, you are not alone.

I don’t know how to reconcile this evil with a God who is good, but I do know that personally, my suffering has been compounded when I (or others) try too hard to make it make sense. This shouldn’t make sense. It shouldn’t be explainable or understandable.

I have been thinking about Jesus weeping over Lazarus—not to make a tidy theological point about being human, but because he was actually, in the moment, overwhelmed and grief-stricken. I wonder what that looked like? Shaking, shoulders heaving, tears and snot running down his face. I wonder what that sounded like? Tears instead of answers. I wonder if it was surprising to hear Jesus cry? I wonder if Mary and Martha had to hold him up? Their friend. And I wonder if in the middle of his weeping, Jesus asked why?

Dear ones, may you not feel the pressure to make meaning today.

But may you be comforted in solidarity by Jesus, our brother, who has felt the lonely despair of grief deep in his bones.

My heart is with you all today as you love and care for the little ones in your lives.

If you need to talk or process any of this, I am available.

Below are resources for helping children process in such a difficult time.

From the Fred Rogers Institute:

From NPR:

Spiritual care for children:

  • If you are on social media, Sissy Goff, M.Ed., LPC-MHSP (friend of St. Mary’s and counselor at Daystar Ministries in Nashville) has a couple of very helpful videos addressing the Robb Elementary tragedy specifically (and how to engage with children about it) here and here.

  • From children’s spiritual director Lacy Finn Borgo on Instagram: making prayer/presence beads as a way to process grief and suffering.

For caregivers:

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The Good Shepherd and Rest

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Dear St. Mary’s,

This week's Godly Play lesson is The Parable of the Good Shepherd.

I wanted to share something that came up for me during my retreat that I hope is also helpful for you.
This is from Thomas Merton’s Dialogues with Silence:

“Our Eden is the heart of Christ.
Let grace come, Jesus.
Your name is on my heart.
Your Holy Name is on the tower of my heart.
Let grace come and let this world pass away,
Jesus, You Who are living in my exhausted heart.”

I don’t know the last time I resonated with a single line of writing so much as “my exhausted heart.”
I wonder if your heart has ever been exhausted?

The Parable of the Good Shepherd reminds us that the ordinary shepherd lets the sheep scatter, but the Good Shepherd leads them to the green grass, to the cool clear water, and even through the dangerous places. And, if one sheep is lost, the Good Shepherd goes back and finds the tired, weary sheep, puts it on his shoulders, and carries it home. But surely that becomes tiring work, and I wonder if the Good Shepherd's own heart has ever been exhausted?

The gospel reading the day I read the Merton quote happened to be about Jesus trying to get away and rest from the crowds. People figured out where he was going and they got there first. The story says that Jesus’s heart was “moved with compassion” because the people were like sheep without a shepherd. And so he sat with them and taught them.


The good shepherd understands our exhaustion and our weary hearts (even Jesus needed rest) but he never wearies of us.
The good shepherd brings his sheep to the green grass—to his compassionate heart.

I wonder where the Good Shepherd is leading you today?
To compassion? To grace? Maybe to simply slow down and take a deep breath.
May you find rest in the Eden of the heart of Christ.

Peace,

Flo

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The Parable of the Great Pearl

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Dear St. Mary’s,

This week’s Godly Play lesson is The Parable of the Great Pearl.

I love this parable so much because of how dynamic it becomes when considering all of the different perspectives: Is the pearl the Kingdom? Is the pearl a person? Are we giving up everything for the pearl or is heaven giving up everything for us? Or can it be some of all of that? I wonder if it could be something else, too? And what would happen if we saw ourselves as precious as the pearl that One would give everything up for? I wonder if we would be much more willing to give of ourselves for each other?

In Life of the Beloved, Henri Nouwen talks about the idea of being blessed—not in the hashtag way that the word has been co-opted to mean: “everything is working out for me,” but the truth that God is always telling us, “You are my beloved Child, on you my favor rests.” Our belovedness is our blessing. It can be hard to accept and see in ourselves, but once we do, it changes everything about how we see the Kingdom and each other.

Nouwen also writes, "I must tell you that claiming your own blessedness always leads to a deep desire to bless others. The characteristic of the blessed ones is that, wherever they go, they always speak words of blessing. It is remarkable how easy it is to bless others, to speak good things to and about them, to call forth their beauty and truth, when you yourself are in touch with your own blessedness. The blessed one always blesses."


I love how The Parable of the Great Pearl helps me recognize and receive my own blessing of belovedness and how this leads to greater compassion, empathy, and love for those around me. I hope it does the same for you. May we all seek and find the pearl in ourselves and in each other.

Peace,

Flo

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Christmas - Playlists, Activities, and the Godly Play Christmas Story

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Dear St. Mary's,

Merry Christmas (eve)!

Below are ideas and prompts and a whole lot of ridiculous music for celebrating Christmas. 

I sent these same ideas out last year, when things felt discouraging and we were all trying to celebrate despite the pandemic and weariness of the previous year. Honestly, I did not expect to be in that same place again this year. 

My phone has been blowing up with friends and family who are sick, desperately looking for Covid tests, and canceling ALL the plans, and it feels a little bit like unraveling. Like things are falling apart just when we hoped they would get better. 

Last night I was wrapping presents when I received some difficult news and it felt so silly to keep wrapping those presents through the tears and the heavy heartedness, and I know I’m not the only one feeling that way right now. It can seem like every bit of light is being snuffed out while we hold on to our tiny little match. But this week I read this from our friend, Helena Aman, and it was so helpful to me, so I am passing it along and hoping it helps you all, too: 

“It is an act of faith to say that light will overcome darkness. We don’t have any proof of that. We have hope. It is perhaps more powerful to say that the darkness has not overcome the light. Not yet. 

Through all the long ages of creation’s groaning, through all the agonies of mankind, love and hope and goodness endure. 

Divisive hatred, greed, fear, indifference: none of these has managed to snuff out the light entirely. Not yet. 

Not yet. My friends, that’s saying something.”

So, below is my meager offering of not yet: a cheesy pop playlist for a family dance party, some ideas for celebrating the 12 days of Christmas, and birthday cake and candles and songs reminding us that "love and hope and goodness endure," even in small ways. 

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Here is the Godly Play Lesson for Christmas.

On Christmas Day, we celebrate the birth of our savior--the baby King, Jesus!

Here are a few prompts/activities to go with the story this week:

  • Light the Christ candle--when change the light (blow it out); remember that the light isn't gone, it has just changed. Christ is with us wherever we go!

  • Bake a cake or cupcakes or other treats to celebrate Jesus's birthday.

  • In our tradition, Christmas Day marks the first of twelve days of Christmas. There are SO many ideas online for how to celebrate these days, but I would suggest just doing simple and small daily celebrations or acts of service. Here are twelve ideas to get started. One idea is to have a family dance party--I made this incredibly cheesy Christmas Family Dance Party playlist on Spotify full of pop songs if anyone needs inspiration!

  • It's Christmas! Time to break out all of the Christmas carols and songs we had been saving throughout Advent. I had a hard time narrowing song choices, so here are a bunch to go with this lesson and the beginning of Christmastide:

  • Little Road to Bethlehem by Shawn Colvin

  • Gather 'Round, Ye Children, Come by Andrew Peterson

  • Happy Birthday Jesus by Slugs and Bugs

  • Joy to the World by Slugs and Bugs

  • Unto Us a Child is Born by Slugs and Bugs

  • Silent Night by Sara Groves

  • Go Tell It On The Mountain by Sandra McCracken

  • Baby Jesus is Born by Rain for Roots

  • I put these and a few more in a Spotify playlist called: "Christmas Songs for St. Mary's Kids."

May you find light this Christmas!

Advent and the Magi

Dear St. Mary's,

On this fourth Sunday in Advent, in Godly Play, we remember the Magi who followed a wild new star to meet the Christ child.

The Magi were questioners and wonderers. They were researchers and explorers. The story I grew up hearing was that they were wise and worldly astrologers who were eventually humbled enough to meet Jesus and that was the end of their journey. A very tidy Christmas conversion story. But as an adult with a lot of questions, I wonder what questions the Magi might have had after meeting Jesus? I wonder if they spent the rest of their lives trying to make sense of what they saw?

Like the Magi, children are also questioners and wonderers, researchers and explorers. They are so good at it. They are constantly investigating and finding all your important stuff and taking it apart. When Jesus welcomes the children to himself (in the Message version he gets “irate” at the disciples and tells them, “don’t ever get between them and me” which I love), Jesus says that children are at the center of God’s Kingdom—and that we all must accept the Kingdom like children. For a long time, I thought that meant you were supposed to have faith without question. But if you have ever spent any time around children you know that they ask questions constantly.

“Why?”
“How come?”
“How long?”

"What's that for?"

“How does that work?”
“When?”
And then “why” again about ten thousand more times.


They are looking and finding and paying attention. They are full of questions and curiosity, and I wonder how that allows them to see the places where the Kingdom is growing? Grown-ups like answers more than questions. We like the epiphany at the end of the journey. But I wonder if that certainty ever keeps us from seeing the Kingdom?

In the Godly Play story of Advent, we say that we are all on the journey to Bethlehem together with the Prophets, the Holy Family, the Shepherds, and the Magi, who traveled all that way and then left, possibly thinking, “I wonder what that was all about?” Their questions didn’t end with the Christmas story—it's where they began.

I wonder what you will find on your journey this Advent? Maybe you will find the child who came to save the world. And maybe with him, you will also find the child you once were, full of wonder and curiosity and more questions than answers.

Peace,

Flo

Advent and the Shepherds

Hi St. Mary's,

On the third Sunday in Advent, in Godly Play, we remember the shepherds who heard the good news about Jesus and ran to Bethlehem to meet him.

This Advent, I’ve been thinking a lot about fear. Not necessarily the kind of physical fear that feels front and center in the middle of a pandemic (although that’s there, too), but the kind of fear that keeps us locked up from experiencing (or acknowledging) God’s real love, peace, and joy for us and for our humanity.

When I read the passage about the shepherds I resonate so deeply with their fear. The Message translation says, “They were terrified. But the angel said, “Don’t be afraid. I’m here to announce a great and joyful event that is meant for everybody, world-wide: A Savior has been born in David’s town” (from Luke 2).

So, they left their fields and went to witness the wonder of Jesus. And after their experience of being accepted and invited to be part of such joy that is meant for everybody, they ran out to share that joy. I wonder what would have happened if they had stayed in their fields? If they hadn’t believed the message that they were invited to participate in joy? This good news wasn’t hypothetical. It was for them, and they shared it.

Sometimes I hear the phrase “good news” and think of a different gospel I’ve been sold: that people are so terribly wretched, that God had to smoosh down into the form of a tiny baby (awful!) and suffer and die because God couldn’t stand to be with humans otherwise.

But the real good news is that God’s love is so unfathomably limitless, that God moved beyond time and space to live among us—even once as a beloved child with eyes for the Kingdom, to feel life like a creature, to die like a creature, and to be raised again, like we as creatures will also be someday. Immanuel, God with us, inseparable from us, in all of our humanity.

There is nothing that can separate us from the love of God.
Nothing.

God’s love knows no barriers, but I think sometimes we make our own with shame and fear and a false sense of control over getting it right. But what if we were really free to feel loved as we are? I wonder what that would look like?

I wonder if it’s even possible to see the goodness and love of God for others if we don’t believe it for ourselves--to share the good news, as the shepherds did, without first believing in God’s full embrace of our humanity?

“I am convinced that nothing can ever separate us from God’s love. Neither death nor life, neither angels nor demons, neither our fears for today nor our worries about tomorrow—not even the powers of hell can separate us from God’s love. No power in the sky above or in the earth below—indeed, nothing in all creation will ever be able to separate us from the love of God that is revealed in Christ Jesus our Lord” (Romans 8:38-39).

I wonder if there is really nothing at all that can separate us from Love?

Peace,

Flo

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Advent and Holy Family Art

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Hi, St. Mary's,

Earlier today, I read a great article by Dr. Henry Zonio about the lack of representation in popular depictions of the Holy Family (especially in children's materials) and how including non-white representations of Jesus' family is an important way of welcoming everyone into Advent. I remembered some art I had shared last year and thought I would pass it along to you again.

Madonna and Child by Saincilus Ismael

Black Madonna by Katherine Skaggs

Cheyenne Virgin and Child and The Holy Family by Fr. John Giuliani

José y Maria by Everett Patterson

Holy Family for Elijah by Laura Balmaceda

Sunshine Mother and Child by Shijun Munns

Refugees the Holy Family, The Holy Family of the Streets, and Refugees: La Sagrada Familia by Kelly Latimore

Peace,

Flo

A Blessing for Caregivers in Hard Times

St. Mary's,

This week has been so heavy with more school violence in the news and I felt so much anxiety as I dropped my own daughter off at her high school this morning. Then, as I drove to church, I noticed all of the kids pouring into the elementary school across the street, adjusting their masks, and waving goodbye to their caregivers and it just felt so weighty to me--the burden and gift it is to love such fragile human beings. I know it's hard, hard work. So, I wrote this blessing for you and for all of us who may need it today:

A Blessing for Caregivers in Hard Times
For the caregivers, the parents, the aunts and uncles, the nannies, the friends and godparents, grandparents and foster parents and anyone who feels the weight of loving another human being:

Blessed are you, shepherds of little lambs. May you remember that you, too, have a shepherd, and that you are also a beloved lamb.

Blessed are you who hear the latest headlines and think, “I can’t imagine,” and who hug your little ones extra tight at the end of the day, grateful that they are still in your arms. And blessed are you, whose arms have been empty. May you be comforted.

Blessed are you who are scared to death, and who drop your kids off anyway, hoping they will be safe. May your worst fears go unrealized and your souls be stilled.

Blessed are you who press palms gently against foreheads checking for fevers--you who have kept close watch over such fragile creatures in a global pandemic. May you find reprieve from constant vigilance.

Blessed are you who make pediatric counseling appointments and wonder where all of the anxiety is coming from. May the loving voice of God be louder than the voice of guilt or shame.

Blessed are you who second guess decisions big or small, about healthcare and school and finances and what to make for dinner. May you find peace even when you aren’t sure.

Blessed are you who referee sibling arguments, police homework deadlines, assign chores, and sometimes forget it’s your turn to pick up from school. May some bit of order be restored to you today.

Blessed are you when you fall asleep in the car line. May you find rest in a God who cares about our bodies.

Blessed are you who lose your cool, who apologize, and who pray you aren’t traumatizing your children. May forgiveness and grace be yours.

Blessed are you who feel like the birthdays and milestones are coming faster every year and who don’t feel quite ready to let go. And blessed are you who feel like graduation day can’t come soon enough. May time be kind to you.

Blessed are you whose little people are still becoming. May you trade in your dreams and expectations for the reality of who they are and may the fullness of their humanity be a gift to you and to the world.

Blessed are you whose family doesn’t look like everyone else’s. May you remember Jesus and his chosen family of misfits and outcasts and people who don’t always get along and may you know there is a place for you there, too.

Blessed are you when the crises keep coming, when the emails don’t stop, when the phone rings with bad news, when another behavioral report comes in, and when everything is complicated and overwhelming when you’re doing the best you can. May you catch your breath and catch a break.

Blessed are you who pour out love again and again and again and again without any guarantee of its return. God’s love for you is limitless.

Amen.

"He tends his flock like a shepherd:
  He gathers the lambs in his arms and carries them close to his heart;
  he gently leads those that have young." - Isaiah 40:11 (NIV)

May God's peace be with you!

Flo

Advent and Getting Ready

Hi St. Mary’s,

I hope you had a good Thanksgiving week.

I don’t know about you, but this year (like many other years) I feel like Advent snuck up on me and I just don’t feel “ready.” But this is exactly what Advent is for—the Godly Play story of Advent talks about how we need four whole weeks to get ready because Christmas is such a big mystery.

“Sometimes people can walk right through a mystery and not even know it is there. The Church learned a long time ago that people need a way to get ready to enter or even come close to a mystery like Christmas. The Church set aside four weeks to get ready. This is such a great Mystery that it takes that long to get ready. During this time, we are all on the way to Bethlehem.”

I love the idea of Advent so much, but as someone who has very high (and sometimes unrealistic) expectations of how things should go, I get frustrated when even getting ready isn’t how I imagined it. Like I’m not doing it right or like it doesn’t count if I don’t check certain boxes. There’s a lot of pressure to make Advent beautiful and lovely. 

But then there was the year I waited too long to buy Advent calendars for my kids and they were sold out everywhere making me feel like a mom failure (thanks, capitalism), or the year I found the most beautiful Advent devotional and planned to read it aloud to my family every night but we never had time and it just made me feel guilty that we were so busy during Advent when Advent is “supposed to be” restful and slow. Just now, in writing this, I realized that I forgot to get our Advent candles out or to even check if we have the right candles so we can light the first one today.

But Advent is also a time for letting go and giving things up to make space for God, and as meaningful as the season of Advent is, God didn’t send us Advent candles or chocolate calendars or purple banners and altar cloths. God just gave us God. Emmanuel, God with us. 

In Godly Play, we have time for kids to work with craft materials or stories and we always say, “I don’t know what your work will be. Only you know that.” Similarly, I don’t know what your getting ready will be like. Only you know that. Your getting ready might not look like mine or anyone else's.

I wonder what would happen if we let go of our expectations of what that is "supposed to" look like? To stop imagining what should be and to just let ourselves love and be loved, right now, the way things are? 

And like the following poem reminds me:

May God come close to us anyway. Even when we aren’t ready.

First Coming by Madeleine L’Engle 

He did not wait till the world was ready,

till men and nations were at peace.

He came when the Heavens were unsteady,

and prisoners cried out for release.

He did not wait for the perfect time.

He came when the need was deep and great.

He dined with sinners in all their grime,

turned water into wine. He did not wait

till hearts were pure. In joy he came

to a tarnished world of sin and doubt.

To a world like ours, of anguished shame

he came, and his Light would not go out.

He came to a world which did not mesh,

to heal its tangles, shield its scorn.

In the mystery of the Word made Flesh

the Maker of the stars was born.

We cannot wait till the world is sane

to raise our songs with joyful voice,

for to share our grief, to touch our pain,

He came with Love: Rejoice! Rejoice!

Peace,

Flo

All of God is Everywhere

Dear St. Mary's,

Tomorrow we begin our Godly Play stories in our Godly Play room, and next Sunday (Lord-willing) we will welcome our youngest community members into our nursery for the first time since March 2020. It is enough to bring me to tears and keep me awake at night like Christmas is coming. There is so much to celebrate! In so many ways I find myself tempted to feel like we've arrived--to say, "This is what we've been waiting for!"

But I have been thinking about the story of Abram and Sarai traveling in the desert following God into the unknown--Godly Play tells it like this:

"They finally came to a place called Shechem. Abram climbed up a hill and prayed to God, and God was there, so Abram built an altar to mark the place. Then they went on. Next, they came to a place near Bethel. Abram prayed again and God was there, also. Abram built an altar to mark this place, too. God was not just here or there. All of God was everywhere."

It's so easy for me to anticipate God being in the joy of our reunion, in the "finished" Godly Play room, in the nursery coming together, in the Eucharist we will finally share--Like Abram, I want to pray and build altars in my heart. I want to mark these moments because they are meaningful and worth celebrating. But God is not just here or there. All of God is everywhere.

God was there in March of 2020 when there was only a desert in front of us with no end in sight. God was there when we sat six feet apart in camp chairs in the parking lot listening to God's stories. God will be there when things feel ordinary again. God will be there when we are late to church and grouchy in the car. God will be there when we don't have enough volunteers. God will be there when we are vacuuming sand off of the Godly Play floor. God will be fully present with us through every tear and diaper change in the nursery. I wonder why we don't build altars, then? Is it any less miraculous that God would be with us in those places? I wonder if it's actually more miraculous? I wonder if there's anywhere we can go where God isn't with us? God is not just here or there. All of God is everywhere.

Peace,

Flo

A Prayer for Mentors and Children in Godly Play

A Prayer for Mentors and Children in Godly Play

Dear God who loves and welcomes children,

Please inhabit this space as we also welcome these little ones in your name.

For every child who crosses the threshold:

Helps us to be ready.


For every child who sits in this circle:

Help them to be ready.


For every wiggle, every question, every laugh, every tear, every thought and every “extraneous” word:

Give us patience. Give us grace. Give us levity. Give us gratitude.

For the physical bodies of these children who bear your image:

Grant them safety and protection from harm, and let their senses bring them joy.

For the hearts of these children:

May they stay tender, kind, and whole, and let them know your never-ending love for them.

For the spirits of these children:

May they be open and curious, and let them be sensitive to the Shepherd’s voice.

For every wondering question and response:

Let our hearts be open to hear your truth through the voices of your children, and in doing so, may we receive the blessing of seeing the Kingdom as they do.

Remind us that in you, we have all the words we need.

Speak through us, to us, and beyond us.

Come close to us.

Amen.

Easter Thoughts: Please Let it Be True

Hi St. Mary's,


Here is the Godly Play Lesson for April 11: Jesus Appears to Mary at the Tomb.
A couple of years ago, Helena told this story in church. When she asked, "I wonder why Mary didn't recognize Jesus at first?" a child bravely raised her hand and said, "Maybe she thought it was too good to be true."

I think all the adults collectively sighed--isn't that how it feels sometimes? Too good to be true?

Please let it be true.

That is my 4am prayer. My middle-of-a-crisis prayer.

My prayer when my whole family is safely together. My prayer when they are not.

Funny enough, it is this story that reassures me the most.

When the 4am doubt challenges the 4am prayer, I think about Mary at the tomb.

I think about how a marginalized woman was the very first witness to the Good News of the Resurrection.

I think about how Jesus spoke her name.

I think about her weeping...then running--shouting this good news!

I think about how even the disciples (her friends!) didn't believe her.

But I do.

Please let it be true.

Easter Banner

We have a new banner for Eastertide!

There is a matching coloring sheet that you can download as well.

Happy Easter!

-Flo

A Prayer for When You Feel Stretched Too Thin

Hi friends,

In case anyone else is feeling alone or overwhelmed, here is a little story:

Last week I wanted to make pancakes for Shrove Tuesday.

First, we made the eggs and bacon way too early and they were cold by the time I even started cooking the pancakes. Then, the pancakes (gluten-free) failed epically.

I got bread out to make French toast instead, but then the dog grabbed the whole bag of bread off the counter and ate it while I was scraping the pancake batter off of the pan. I got mad at everyone. We turned off the music. The kids got quiet. Things were tense. I found more bread in the freezer and we made French toast, and we relaxed a little, and the kids told me they liked French toast better than pancakes anyway. It all worked out (sort of)! Then I remembered it was Tuesday and we totally missed Zoom ballet. AH!


This morning as I was smearing a little butter on some toast, this quote from Tolkien came to mind. Bilbo, the very aged hobbit, is speaking:


"Why, I feel all thin, sort of stretched, if you know what I mean: Like butter that has been scraped over too much bread."


I looked at the toast and realized it takes a LOT of butter to really fill the tiny little air holes and get it all the way to the edges, and it made me wonder if we will ever have enough butter again. For nearly a year of pandemic life we have been trying to cover SO many places (and Zoom calls) with our worn out bodies, minds, and hearts. It's too much.


I am reading a book about Jesus called, "Gentle and Lowly," and it talks about how the yoke of Jesus is kindness. How mysterious! I wonder how we can take up this yoke? How do we receive the kindness of Jesus? What does that even look like?It's easy to say "trade your burdens for Jesus' kindness!" but how do we do that when many of life's burdens feel inescapable? I really don't know. But I would like to pray a blessing for you all anyway:

For those who feel like butter scraped over too much bread:

May the gentle kindness of Jesus cling lightly to your shoulders.

May it stretch out to fill every empty space.

May there be no room for heavy burdens--hidden or seen.

When trials still come, may the Spirit advocate for you.

And may God, who is Love, be near to you always.


I am praying for you, today!

-Flo

Resources for Anxious Times

Hello friends,

This week has been shocking. I always wonder what kids are thinking and how they are processing the things they may be hearing about or seeing on the news.

Recently on Twitter, someone I follow asked, "What is the first news story you remember from childhood?" My first big "news memory" was the Challenger explosion--I was six years old and I still remember the feeling of the world suddenly feeling darker and less safe. I also felt the weight of the world's collective sorrow. So I know many of our littles are having big feelings this week, even if they don’t understand details.

I am praying for you as you may be having difficult conversations with your children. Here are just a couple of things I hope can help.

Here is a "Story Time with Miss Flo" video about worry and prayer (I do not address the specific events of the week) featuring The Lord's Prayer illustrated by Tim Ladwig. Whenever I don't know what to pray, the Lord's Prayer feels like enough.

This is a video by spiritual director Lacy Finn Borgo for when you are having big feelings. This is from May, but it definitely still applies.

May the perfect peace of God the Father, God the Son, and God the Holy Spirit settle deep down in your hearts tonight,

Flo

Prayer Labyrinth

Erin Martin created a stunning piece of art for our St. Mary’s community that features a labyrinth (see the art and read her letter here) and a PDF version of the labyrinth that you can print at home. I have wanted to provide small finger labyrinths for the kids for SO long, and it was already something I was hoping to do for the fall before I even knew what Erin was making--amazing!

Here is a link to the PDF. You can glue yarn along the labyrinth like the photo shows or you can color or paint it. There are many ways to use a labyrinth like this. You can just trace it with your finger and enjoy the experience or you can practice listening for God as you trace inward and praying to God as you trace your way back out (or vice versa). You can also try praying for others as you trace towards the center, spending time with God as you wait in the center, and praying for your own needs as you trace your way back out. There is no wrong way to enjoy this gift! Thank you so much, Erin!

Peace,

Flo

Celebrating Pentecost at Home

Here is an article by Flo about celebrating Pentecost at home:

5 Ways to Celebrate Pentecost at Home

I admit that sometimes as a parent, as a children’s minister, and even as an Anglican, I wonder if it really matters what we teach our families about the church calendar. Do they really get it? How important is it?

Eastertide and Pentecost are a great reminder for me not to underestimate these opportunities! I’ve seen that children hold a natural wonder and excitement (and sometimes skepticism) for nearly everything, and a good way to show children that they belong, that they are whole and valuable members of God’s Kingdom, is to share these liturgies and calendar days together—rather than gloss over them.

As Easter comes to a close, we look forward to Pentecost (the day we remember and celebrate the descent of the Holy Spirit upon Jesus’ followers). Here are some quarantine-friendly ways to celebrate at home as a family:

1. Feast Together.

It is a feast day, after all! Pick out your favorite feast foods and break bread together. Use red napkins at the table. Afterward, put on your favorite music and hold a living room dance party. Maybe even wear red.

Ask: I wonder how the disciples felt when God gave them the gift of the Holy Spirit?

2. Listen Together.

Grab a blanket and sit outside on the grass. Close your eyes. Pay attention to the physical sensations of being outside. Do you hear any birdcalls? Is it windy outside? Can you hear the rustling of the grass in the breeze or feel the wind on your skin?

Ask: I wonder if there is anything about being outside that reminds you of God?

3. Read Together.

Light a candle and read the story of Pentecost (Acts 2:1-2) together as a family. Depending on the ages of your family members, you could read from a storybook Bible or straight from scripture (for older members, you could read Acts 2 in its entirety). You might even consider lighting a bonfire outdoors if you are able.

Ask: I wonder if the disciples were afraid of the fire?

4. Create Together.

We see the Holy Spirit represented at times as fire, wind, and even a dove. Younger children may enjoy making a pinwheel like this and seeing what happens on a breezy day. We can’t see the wind, but we can see what happens to a pinwheel when the wind turns it.

Ask: We can’t see wind, but we know it’s there—I wonder if that reminds you of anything else?

Very small children might like to make a dove craft like this using their hands:

Ask: I wonder why God sometimes used a dove to represent the Holy Spirit?

5. Sing Together.

God gave the gift of the Holy Spirit to the disciples on Pentecost—can you imagine how they had felt up to this point, waiting for this promised gift, wondering what in the world was going on after their world had been turned upside down? How they longed to hear from their friend, Jesus!

We are currently in a time of waiting as well. We long to hear from God in these strange and unprecedented days. “Spirit of the Living God,” by Audrey Assad, reminds us that God is the same God then and now. It’s God’s voice and breath that we have always longed for. Sometimes God’s voice is clear and sometimes we wonder where God is—or if God is even with us at all. Children feel all of these things, too. Consider learning/singing this song together as a family.

Ask: I wonder if there is a time you can remember when you heard from God, or when God felt close?

A Timely Celebration

Now, more than ever, it is an excellent time to talk about the church calendar—to remember the things God has done and to bring some rhythm and punctuation to the seemingly never-ending days we are experiencing. And may we remember that the God who sent wind and fire is the same God who speaks in a still, small voice—ever with us, in every moment of our year.

Resources on Race for Children

Hi all,

I'm writing today's email with a bit of sadness thinking about how pre-Covid, I had planned on hosting an end-of-year celebration. I'd imagined laying out our Godly Play materials in the lobby so that everyone could see what we had been learning about all year. I'd imagined feasting and playing together.
My husband reminds me (daily) to try to shift my thinking from sorrow over what should/could have been, to gratitude for what we still are able to do. (And hope for what the future may bring.) I wonder how this time is giving us something we may not have received in person?

In light of this heavy week filled with such upsetting news, I want to pass on a helpful website: The Conscious Kid offers resources for how to talk to kids about race. I LOVE their library links and ideas for children's books centering marginalized authors and people of color. As with any website/resource, I cannot say with certainty that St. Mary's fully endorses all of the content as I have not read through every link, organization partner, etc., but since I found it helpful as a parent, I wanted to share it with you all. And, I think it is in line with the vision of St. Mary's children's ministry, which I will end with, here:


St. Mary's believes in the dignity and worth of all children as image bearers of God. We hope to help families foster the innate spirituality of each child, to create space for children to come close to God, and to send them into the world as helpers and disciples knowing they are beloved by God. Blessings to you all and happy summer!

Peace,

Flo