"beyond the veil...."

"I look to You,
I look to You..."

I know that I have used Amy Kelly's version of  "I Look to You" recently, but it is the song that was singing itself to me today.

As a bride, I never wore a veil. But I have designed and created veils. As a little girl I was fascinated with all things bridal. I dreamed in shades of white and the palest blushing pink. Helping other girls plan their weddings, design their wedding dresses, making veils -- helped to vicariously fulfil many of those little girl dreams.

One afternoon, as I carefully sewed the last seed pearl on the gossamer edge of a custom fingertip veil --one that I was gifting to a dear friend for her wedding -- I decided to try it on to see if it fell evenly on both sides. I stood in front of the mirror and for the first few moments I couldn't see anything but the layers of soft illusion tulle. As I stood there, my preschool-age daughter came in the room with a hurt finger. Immediately my focus shifted from the pattern in the fabric -- just inches from my eyes -- to her sweet face. Suddenly, I was no longer aware of the fabric - just her need.

I remember in that moment having two insights. The first one was that when someone with a need was before me, I wasn't at all aware of the veil. The second was that when I actually loved what was beyond the veil -- more than wearing the veil and being a bride -- my sense of things shifted drastically.  It was one of those epiphanies I have never forgotten.

A few weeks later a friend and I were driving back from a meeting in another city when rain started falling. At first I couldn't see anything but raindrops on the windshield, and I reached to turn on my windshield wipers. My friends suggested that I wait just a moment. She explained that her husband had shared with her that "looking beyond the veil" was like driving in the rain. At first you can only see the raindrops, but within a few moments your eyes adjust and you look beyond them and can see the cars on the road, the taillights in front of you, and the signs on the highway. She was right -- I could.

When I am focused on what I truly love -- and what I truly need to see -- the veil, the raindrops, the "in your face" sense of things - dissolves from focus.

Recently this was made very clear to me. After a stop-me-in-my-tracks realization about my relationship to God as  "my first Love..." last Fall, one alarming situation after another seemed to present itself. I felt bombarded by personal demands and responsibilities. But I wasn't fooled this time -- at least not for the most part. This analogy of the veil was with me every day.

I saw myself as a bride, looking for her groom at the end of the aisle. As long as I was focused on what was "in my face" -- the details of each of the challenges I was facing -- I felt trapped by a quandary of decisions and obstacles. But when I was looking beyond my immediate circumstances, for the face of my first Love -- God, I was at peace. I wasn't distracted from my one true "goal," -- to know Him, to love Him, to trust Him.

Everything else was like the train behind a wedding dress -- it would come along.  And it did.  The more I focused on God, the less the "veil of matter" was even perceptible to me.

In Science and Health with Key to the Scriptures, Mary Baker Eddy has this to say in a paragraph with the marginal heading, "within the veil:"

"The nature of Christianity is peaceful and blessed, but in order to enter into the kingdom, the anchor of hope must be cast beyond the veil of matter into the Shekinah into which Jesus has passed before us; and this advance beyond matter must come through the joys and triumphs of the righteous as well as through their sorrows and afflictions. Like our Master, we must depart from material sense into the spiritual sense of being..."

As long as I was focused on myself as a bride -- all of my attention placed on how things were going to effect me and mine -- I wasn't going to see the real beauty of being wedded to my first Love. But the minute I sought His face -- continually -- the veil disappeared from my focal distance.

Elsewhere Eddy speaks of this shift in focus when she writes:

"Mortals must look beyond fading, finite forms if they would gain the true sense of things. Where shall the gaze rest but in the unsearchable realm of Mind?"

Just as a bride looks beyond the veil to find the face of her beloved, so I am looking beyond the veil to rest my gaze on the "face" of my first love. Not as a means to an end. Not to rend the veil. But to feel at one with my greatest love.

And the great Love of my life is - well, Love -- pure and simple. Later in Science and Health Eddy writes:

"The very circumstance, which your suffering sense deems wrathful and afflictive, Love can make an angel entertained unawares. Then thought gently whispers: “Come hither! Arise from your false consciousness into the true sense of Love, and behold the Lamb’s wife, — Love wedded to its own spiritual idea.”

This is the wedding feast that never ends. This is the "place" where the Christ turns water into wine. This is the never-ending moment where we are robed in white and held in bliss.


offered with Love,

Kate

"White lace and promises..."

"We've only just begun to live,
White lace and promises
A kiss for luck and we're on our way.
And yes, We've just begun.

Sharing horizons that are new to us,
Watching the signs along the way,
Talking it over just the two of us,
Working together day to day
Together.

And when the evening comes we smile,
So much of life ahead
We'll find a place where there's room to grow,
And yes, We've just begun..."
-     Paul Williams/Roger Nichols

I didn't know her well...yet.  My friend's mother was a retired widow with a generous heart. When she learned that I had been through a devastating heartbreak, she offered her home as a quiet sanctuary where I could rest, pray, and begin to heal.

I was grateful for her hospitality…and more than a little bit shy.  I had visited her home before, but always in the company of her children.  This time I was there alone.  I arrived late one evening, emotionally and physically exhausted, falling into bed after a brief, warm greeting and being shown to the room I would stay in.  The next morning I tiptoed down the stairs just after dawn hoping to make myself a cup of tea and retreat back to my room before she stirred.  But as I rounded the bottom of the stairs, I was surprised to discover that she was already up, and sitting on the sofa in front of an open photo album.  

After polite "good mornings", I asked if she would mind if I made myself a cup of tea and excused myself to the kitchen with her permission.  Minutes later I returned, tea in hand and found her sitting exactly as I had left her…this time a faded black and white photograph in hand, and a faraway look on her face.

I asked her if it was a lovely memory and she smiled and patted the cushion next to her. 

As I joined her on the blue plaid sofa, she passed the photo to me and told me that it was her wedding picture.  I was not surprised to see a younger version of the kind and gentle woman sitting next to me...smiling, from within the circle of a lanky, grinning young man's embrace, for the photographer.  She was in a simple outfit and her expression was peaceful. 

I asked her about her wedding.  She explained that she and her groom had chosen a simple ceremony with just a few guests.  I was surprised.  It was curious to me...as a rather romantic young woman who had cut her teeth dreaming through the dog-eared pages of Bride magazine...that someone would actually choose to not have a big beautiful wedding if they possibly could, and asked her why she hadn't. 

Her story was simple.  But I have never forgotten it. 

She told me that she had met her future husband in church one Sunday just after he had begun exploring spirituality and attending her place of worship.  They fell in love and he proposed.  She said that she thought about a big, fancy wedding, but that planning one would take time.  She knew that her groom's spiritual integrity was the most important thing to him…and to her.  She also knew that "waiting" through a long engagement, in order to carry out extensive wedding plans, might be difficult for him.  So she decided that she would rather have a husband who felt the deep inner strength of his spiritual integrity and courage, than have a big wedding.  So she suggested that they get married right away in a simple, modest wedding. 

She smiled sweetly when she said that she gave up a fancy wedding and a big beautiful dress for a wonderful man.  She went on to say that she never regretted that decision.

This story touched me deeply.  My admiration and love for this new friend was forged...and galvanized...by this story.  I have never forgotten it…or her.

In Science and Health with Key to the Scriptures, Mary Baker Eddy says, "Marriage should improve the human species, becoming a barrier against vice, a protection to woman, strength to man, and a centre for the affections. This, however, in a majority of cases, is not its present tendency, and why? Because the education of the higher nature is neglected, and other considerations, - passion, frivolous amusements, personal adornment, display, and pride, - occupy thought."

Over the years I have been amazed at the wisdom and spiritual maturity this, then, very young woman displayed at a time when women were given little credit for making wise choices and thoughtful decisions.   What a blessed young man she married.  What a blessing she was to me.  Her example of true bridal beauty and grace continues to give me pause. 

Humbly, 
Kate

God's Promises are Kept

"I've been waiting for a girl like you
To come into my life
I've been waiting for a girl like you
My loving will survive
Yeah, waiting for a girl like you
To come into my life…"
- Foreigner

Whew!  We have just completed a marathon month of graduation and wedding celebrations that took us to Massachusetts, Connecticut, Colorado, Iowa, and Illinois, traveling through countless other states to get to our destinations. 

We attended, cooked for, or hosted, more than two dozen dinners, awards, parties, teas, receptions, weddings, baccalaureate ceremonies, showers, barbeques, lunches and breakfasts.  And we had a blast! 

May into June was wonderful and we saved one of the most extraordinary events for last…Jill's wedding.  Jill is sister, friend, confidante, fellow mom, person-I-am-most-likely-to ever-get-in trouble-with (not illegal…just silly/naughty…like nude sun-bathing in an almost public place kind of trouble) all rolled into one. 

Two years ago I was trying desperately to fix my dear friend (the same above-mentioned, Jill) up on a date with another very dear friend.  I was sure they would be a perfect match…if for nothing more than as someone they could each go to movies with and laugh out loud.  Neither was particularly interested in my match-making.  They each knew and admired one another, but as dating material…not so much. 

I was perplexed.  It was clear to me that these were two of the greatest people on the planet.  Both were funny, good, irreverent and deeply spiritual.  How could they not be right for one another…they were both so right and perfect in my eyes.

Within a short time our guy friend found himself in love with, as he says, "the love of his life" and Jill was still a successful and happy single mom hanging out with me at Starbucks playing Apples to Apples with our teenage children and laughing like schoolgirls on holiday….whenever we could.

But my deep desire to see her dream for a "happy and permanent" companionship really didn't go away.  Jill herself told me that our mutual friend's success in love, rather than making her feel envious or left out, made her feel only a sense of anticipation and promise. She knew that I had only wanted good for each of them and that, as Mary Baker Eddy says in Science and Health with Key to the Scriptures, "Love is impartial and universal in its adaptation and bestowals."  God wasn't unfolding a warm and loving heart for one of them to companion with, and not the other.  Her prayer became one of expectation rather than desire.  She lived her life with the peace-filled confidence of someone who knows (not just hopes) that her days of being single are numbered.

Within months a man, she had known when they were both children in grade school, contacted her after she registered for a class reunion.  He had never forgotten the feisty little blonde on the playground although his family had long since moved to another state. Although he had seen her briefly on visits to the old neighborhood throughout his school years, over thirty years later he was still wondering what had become of the little girl, who with her sisters, had ruled the neighborhood with their laughter and their good-hearted joy.  He had never married (although he had come close), never had children, and had devoted his life to family and business.

Soon they were emailing regularly and within months he had invited her to visit him at the family farm where he had created a heartland paradise for vacationers on the Upper Iowa River.  Jill told me that the first time she visited Harvest Farm, she felt at home.  Not long after that first visit, with family and friend waiting eagerly on the ground, her prince charming gave her a bird's eye view of his 175-acre wonderland from a hot air balloon while he proposed marriage.  Those on the ground didn't need a high sign from either Jill or her fiancée to know it was time to celebrate, as one of them told me last weekend, "I could tell by the look his face that all his dreams had come true on that ride in a hot air balloon."

"…Now I know it's right,
from the moment I wake up
till deep in the night;
There's nowhere on earth that I'd rather be
than holding you tenderly…"

So, last Saturday, after driving 7 hours through the farmlands of Missouri and Iowa, we arrived at Harvest Farm for Jill's wedding.  Jeff and I had written the entire service, their vows, and a wedding song we would perform before Jill, her husband, the children, their families, and almost three hundred guests who couldn't wait to welcome Jill (and the children) into their community of love, friendship, hard work, and care.

Jill's groom, a  strong farmer with Midwestern work ethics and a heart of gold cried like a boy as he watched his precious bride come towards him through the throngs of loved ones cheering her forward…each smiling step of the way.  He wept with joy as she promised to love, honor and cherish him "longer than they both would live".  We wept, and wept and wept…for their joy, but more importantly for the indication of God's care that this day represented to so many of us.  God does "set the solitary in families" and he sets families in even larger villages of kindness, joy and love.

As we drove away from Harvest Farm Saturday night, we could hear the music blaring from speakers set up throughout the campground, we could see smoke rising from the campfire, we could almost feel the laughter and dancing ricocheting off the walls of the canyon where the river flowed beneath them.  But what was clearer than the smile on Jill's face, the tears on his cheeks, or the peace everyone of us felt about this union, was the unseen miracle we each felt we had witnessed that day.  It was a miracle with a message…a message that would echo for a long, long time  through the chambers of our hearts…

God's promises are kept…

I love you JillyBean,
Kate

Two Weddings and a Manger

It was early December and there were still so many details needing attention.  Not only was it Christmas and for the first time in years I would be deeply embosomed in the heart of my large family, but I was in the middle of planning my wedding as well as helping my younger sister plan hers.  Our weddings would take place five days apart with Christmas Day sandwiched right in the middle to take advantage of having friends and family there for the holiday week.


I was standing on College Avenue in Fort Collins ready to hit one more used/vintage/nearly new clothing store in search of something special to wear as a bride with no budget.  It was  a bright, snowy day with temperatures in the 20’s.  But the Colorado sun, a mile closer to the earth, warmed my face to the point of feeling the first tingle of a sunburn.  I had instinctively turned towards the sun as I closed my eyes in prayer for guidance and direction while time and resources were waning.  Immediately the title of a recently published inspirational article,  "Maintaining the Manger Attitude" by Marian English* came to thought.   That morning I had grabbed the new issue of the Christian Science Sentinel on my way out the door to do errands.  I had noticed the title thinking I would read the article as I was waiting in line at the grocery store or at the long stoplights on streets busy with holiday shoppers.

I felt a bit blue that day in spite of my mission and the beautiful setting.   There was so much to do.  The burden of getting it all done in a short period of time was weighing heavily that morning on College Avenue.  How would I find something "bridal" to wear for less than $10, decorate the large lodge on a shoestring as well as graciously host the more than two hundred people that would be converging in Colorado for both weddings.  Talk about no room in the Inn..."we don't even have a manger" I thought as I felt tears of frustration form in the corners of my eyes. 

My "also a bride" sister, Lila,  had offered to meet me that morning as I searched yet one more Goodwill-type store for something that I could creatively customize into bridal attire.  As I waited for her to arrive I prayed with just the title of that article since I had left the magazine on the seat of the car parked five blocks away.  What would the "manger attitude" look, feel, and sound  like?  Hmm...all I could imagine was peace...peace filling the rafters of that modest structure, peace descending on the straw, peace laying its mantle on a mother's heavy heart and on a father's furrowed brow, peace in the cattle's "lowing", peace in the coo of a dove.  Peace, as the old Christmas carol that I had loved as a child, said:

"How silently, how silently
the wondrous gift is given
So God imparts to human hearts
the blessings of His heaven."
-O Little Town of Bethlehem

The wondrous gift wasn't going to be in finding the $1,000 we needed to pay for the food for our modest reception, or even in figuring out how we would help our 100+ guests find lodging in a remote mountain town.  The wondrous gift would be given to me each moment I found

"Peace on earth, goodwill to men"

throughout the moments of my days filled with errands, purchases, decisions and waiting, waiting, waiting...for R.S.V.P. cards, promised callbacks from vendors and suppliers, traffic lights to change and solutions to reveal themselves like the light from a star in the quiet stillness of my manger heart.

Something settled deeply in my heart as I stood there.  Lila arrived and I was no longer on a hunt for bridal wear, candles, options or bargains.  I was moving through moments of revelation abiding in a manger and taking it with me everywhere I went.   We walked into the nearly new shoppe where I had been standing.  Within moments I found an old cream-colored wool sweater for 50 cents.  I would later boil and cut it down to create an Austrian-styled boiled wool jacket exactly like the one  I had seen for over $200 at a local mountain wear shoppe.  Further back in that little store we found an antique petticoat that would serve as a skirt once I dyed it in a large pot of weak tea to give it an aging that would match the jacket.  Cowboy boots were purchased for $2 and painted cream for another $1.79.  A gross of candles were offered by a supplier at bargain basement prices because the wax had bubbles in it.   Within hours, details I thought would take weeks to tick off my list were resolved without a hitch. 

My focus became:

"Let every heart prepare Him room..."

I was no longer a bride putting on a wedding...I was a shepherd preparing a place for my lambs, a mother finding a quiet space for my child, a dove sweeping the cobwebs from the rafters of the stable for a King.  Each guest was the Christ child coming to rest in the embrace of this "bridal feast."  I was a host serving "the Lord of hosts" who loved his servant and provided her with all she needed for preparing this feast of Soul.

As you can see, Christmas carols became prayers and provided my heart with the food it needed for its own daily feast.  I stopped worrying about how we would pay for the food.  I just needed to appreciate the table that was being set before me each hour. 

Later that week, the camp that had offered us the use of their lodge and kitchen for our wedding and reception decided to also offer over 150 of our guests free lodging in gratitude for our previous pro bono work when their budgets were tight.   They even provided staffing for our event as well as the chef for our reception fare.  The staff had already been hired and were on hand to care for their own guests later that week.  All that was left to cover was the actual cost of the food which came to the same amount as the cash we received as wedding gifts.   One guest even carried in boughs of holly from her Massachusetts home to cover the broad fireplace mantle.  The large Christmas tree in the lodge had given up enough branches at its trunk to wrap the lodge beams in pine.  Fifty yards of water-damaged, cream-colored, satin ribbon was given to us by a local fabric store for draping through the greenery.  Just before the wedding a friend arrived with antique snowshoes to place on the hearth and finish the "altar" with "something old."

What I learned from that Christmas over 20 years ago wasn't about a wedding and having everything work out perfectly because I prayed, thought the right thought, or created a mental environment where it could all become humanly perfect.  We are not, nor will we ever be that creative or that powerful...God is the only Cause and Creator.  What I did learn was already complete that day on College Avenue with the warmth of an early December Colorado sun on my face.  It was the gift of peace....it was the gift of each moment that I was still....a word that doesn't just mean "quiet or calm" but "nevertheless, without interruption"...as in "I am still with thee."

In that moment I discovered that I could either visit the manger or I could abide in it, take it with me, and offer its solace and stillness to those I shared space with throughout my day...

Where meekness will receive him
Still the dear Christ enters in.
- Phillips Brooks

...that even when the busy Inn looks like it has room for me and beckons to me from its well-lit and festive doorway, I can beg off my regrets and, from my heart's home in the manger, wave to those who seem to be rushing about madly to join me there.   There's room for all in the manger.  Let your heart prepare him--the Christ in humanity--and especially in yourself, room.

*(my experience with this Sentinel article was profound and resulted in many opportunties for spiritual growth,   healing, and the discovery of a deep and abiding peace.  Feel free to visit my website and read another article under the "How" section titled "Maintaining the Manger Attitude")

K