Have I told you lately--thanks so much for allowing me to drop into your inbox for a moment of happy connection.

 

 

HERE, THIS IS A GIFT FOR YOU BECAUSE I DON’T WANT IT.

 

            Recently in my much-loved A Course in Miracles, I read something that stopped me in my tracks. "This Christmas give the Holy Spirit everything that would hurt you." 

            I should give to the Divine not my best stuff but my worst stuff? 

            I recall a couple of years ago at church an announcement about bringing things to contribute to the Deseret Industries truck parked out behind the chapel.  "Now remember," the sister said, "bring only things that are in really good shape.  Not just junk.  Keep in mind you are giving these things to the Lord."

            Wow.  I had to look at everything I put into my Thrift Store Box and say, Now, if the Lord were standing here, would I give this to him?

            I have such fond memories of my growing-up days in Provo, Utah.  I loved the Deseret Industries--loved going there and poking around for inexpensive treasures.  Loved giving an occasional box of things that I no longer had any use for.  I had seen, in my tour of the Desert Industries, that they found a use for just about anything.  Buttons were laboriously cut from old sweaters and put into pint jars to be sold.  Unwearable clothing was cut into neat squares to be sold as packs of rags. 

            And much of this work was done by people who appeared to be those that society often  tosses away, people who were very proud that they could come to work and make this contribution.  I loved it that everything was salvaged at the Deseret Industries--people as well as things.

            Times have changed.  Where I live, thrift stores won’t even take a sofa if it has stains on it.

            But I digress.  That statement from A Course in Miracles.  "This Christmas give the Holy Spirit everything that would hurt you.  I can do that, and I’ve been making my list."  To the Holy Spirit I will give:

 

            *this old resentment that I wrap around me out of habit

            *that ragged worry I still clutch in the middle of the night

            *the judgment I made just this morning with my quick, creative skills

            *the fear that really doesn’t go with the outfit of hope I look best in

 

I’ll make the list as long as I can.  All the things that hurt me--how great that the Holy Spirit can use them.  And without them--miraculously I become more.

 

 

WHAT WOULD MUSIC BE WITHOUT OUR GAY MEN?   Earlier this month four fabulous gay men arrived at my home for a weekend retreat.  And get this--out of the four, three of them turned out to be master pianists!  Well, we decided, what can you expect from Mormon gay men?  So a good time was had by all, taking turns at my baby grand.

            Favorite Moment: Sunday morning with Bing at the piano practicing for us to sing my little song in the Primary Children’s Songbook.  "Now right here let’s change the key and...now this little arpeggio..."

            We sang: 

            If you don’t walk as most people do,   

            Some people walk away from you.

            But I won’t, I won’t.

            ...        

            Jesus walked away from none,

            He gave his love to everyone.   

            So I will, I will.

            ...

Singing with these beautiful gay men was a sweet, sad thing.  How much richer would my church be with their smiles and their skills?