Happy almost-Fall!

Fireweed in late summer

North Cascades

When I left for a backpacking trip last week I could have sworn it was summer. Our first day of hiking was long, exposed to the sun,, buggy, and hot has heck. But there were blueberries… and in the PNW that’s a sure sign that autumn is around the corner. Five days later when we hiked out, I noticed that some of the berry bushes were starting to turn red already. Fall colors! I shouldn’t have been surprised, then, when we returned home to find cooler temperatures and pumpkin spice season (does it start earlier each year, like Christmas shopping?$ in full swing.

Autumn is such a chaplain time. The season of change, the season of aging, the season of beautiful and brilliant preparation for death, dormancy, quiet, turning inward. We hospital chaplains love that stuff. At least, I do.

This year, many in healthcare are worried about autumn. They’re worried about flu season colliding with COVID-19 as people retreat indoors in the cold. I’m concerned, too. That season of cozy comfort I always look forward to could be a season of new danger.

But not quite yet. I haven’t had a pumpkin spice latte yet. I haven’t taken out the window AC units in my house. I want to hold onto some of that summer sun and warmth before it’s time to relinquish it to Fall. How about you? How are you feeling about Fall, spiritually, this year? I’m excited about Fall — this Fall I’ll get married(!), and I look forward to the first fires in the fireplace with a warm drink, and to that autumn-smelling air on colder hikes… but I’m not looking forward to the US presidential election, nor an potential uptick in coronavirus deaths and desperate people who cannot visit their dying loved ones in the hospital…

But, truly, no one knows what comes next. We can prepare and think about it, but Spirit always surprises us in the moment — sometimes with painful turns, but also with unexpected moments of insight and joy — especially if we allow ourselves to be surprised.

This picture of fireweed from last September feels affirming to me. The flower is still purple with summer while the leaves turn brilliantly toward the season ahead. May we all enjoy what is left of the warmth and light while inwardly we prepare for what ever comes next — leaving room for surprise and even beauty and joy where we least expect it.

My Dream: the “courage to see”

"Wherever you turn your eyes the world can shine like transfiguration. You don't have to bring a thing to it except a little willingness to see. Only, who could have the courage to see it?" -- Marilynne Robinson, Gilead 

On a backpacking trip in the summer of COVID-19, I had a realization. I feel alive in the wilderness in a way I don't feel anywhere else. I feel like I could walk and see and pray and reflect for days, weeks, maybe months. I thought of the Desert Fathers, spiritual ascetics devoted to prayer. I feel a call to be one.

I also feel called to be a hospital chaplain, a clinical ethics consultant, a minister in the midst of terrible suffering. And I'm called to join my new husband in making a life together of mutual support and love, till death do us part.

How can I reconcile all of these things? In conversation with my friends on that trip, a dream began to crystallize. I could use photography and my time in the wilderness to reflect and pray about the things I encounter in my life as a chaplain, ethicist, wife, friend, and spiritual traveler. And then I could share it with you, my readers and friends. Maybe some day I could sell some photographs. Maybe some day I could write reflections that could move and encourage others in a way I could sustain. But for now: I'll live and love and serve -- and I'll write, create, share, hike, and pray.

I would love to be able to pray for you, reader, friend, as we go along. The quote at the top of this page has guided me in my ministry and life for years. I endeavor to have the courage to see -- the beautiful and the horrible and the transfiguration beyond imagination. Will you join me?