Mhaolain's Child, a Renaissance Thinker in a Post-Modern Culture

Color Me a Creative Mentor

A meeting of creative minds at a Cre:ate event always yields incredible ideas. This past weekend at Round Cove was no exception as we discussed future Kalein mentoring adventures and fund-raising retreats and events. This weekend's mentoree, David Ballard, let us gate-crash his "48 Hours of Solitude" with Randy Elrod at Round Cove, and on Sunday, David shared a couple of wonderful personality "tests" with our group, including the game-like "Hue Are U?"

Not a surprise that each member of our group chose the same initial color card -- we're all Pioneers and Innovators. What was surprising was that the 3 men chose the exact same color combinations throughout, even though they've each been called to a different vocation in life. Chris chose earth colors that reflect her nurturing personality. My own color combinations ended up being the darkest combination possible, which theoretically reveals a depth of passion that imbues my creative psyche. Go figure.

David also recommended the personality tests available online from My Personality. Again, the results were stunningly accurate for me. An extroverted mentor who loves planning and growing people and ideas -- amazing.

I have several management retreats planned in the near future. I'm definitely including these two fun activities that provide so much understanding into both building my strengths as well as reshaping of my weaknesses. Thanks, David, for the insight! 

Communion in the Cave, Part Two

For ten years now, Randy and Chris Elrod have been friends of my hubby and myself. My hub, David, loves to remind Randy that he was the chairman of the committee that brought the Elrods from sunny Florida to the four seasons of Tennessee. I'm sure that idea has often brought both tears of joy and frustration to the Elrods' eyes.

Part of the delight of our friendship has been to support the growth of Kalein, the mentoring retreat that Randy and Chris are growing. Not only have we supported the fund-raising events of the past but we also are helping facilitate future retreats in wonderful places like Napa, Tuscany, and Mexico. Meanwhile, much closer to home is the current homeplace of the mentoring retreats, Round Cove, in Franklin Co., TN. This past weekend, David and I had the privilege to join Randy, Chris, David Ballard, and the owner of Round Cove, Nordeck Thompson, in an explosion of creativity at Round Cove.

The setting for the houses at Round Cove is a breathtaking pinnacle on the southern edge of the Cumberland Plateau. Settled by European frontiersmen in the late 1700s, Round Cove has been home to a long thread of humanity, as archaelogical remains of native Americans from the epochs as far back as the Clovis culture of the Paleo-Indians have been found at Round Cove, particularly in the cave systems that tunnel through these mountains.

David, Chris, and I had scarcely made our greetings when Nordeck and Randy, like two little boys with a great surprise, herded us to put on our warmest clothes to go out for a "nature and wildlife experience." Fortunately, Nordeck's family had left some extra warm coats in the cabin. Thus, wearing every item of clothing I had brought, we set off on their 4-wheeler mules on a mystery adventure.

We wound our way down the mountain's side, gazed over the green valley's growing crops, and turned back off into the woods. Suddenly, through the dusky-dark light appeared the gaping mouth of a massive cave. Randy and Nordeck had spent much of the afternoon hauling tables, wine, glasses, and dozens of candles down into this enormous cave. We gently picked our way across boulders and slippery sludge, skootched on our seats down a log flume, and finally made our way down into the room in which the Paleo-Indians had harvested flint and shaped it into tools and weapons. The enormity of being in the time-flow of more than 10,000 years of human history was a staggering experience for this little historian.

As we opened the wines and toasted to our friendships and our dreams, we noticed that our "toasts" were more and more poetical prayers of praise than salutations. The sound of the water that ran through the cave made me so aware of the presence of the Source of Living Water. As we sipped the incomparable 1997 Quintessa wine, we acknowledged the Great Vine who is the Giver and Sustainer of all life. What had been conceived to be a short one-hour inaugural adventure evolved into a three-hour worship service! And it was with regret that we began to extinguish the candles and begin our climb up out of the cave and back into real time.

For me, it was a moment like baptism. Buried in the cave with Christ; resurrected from death and darkness to serve Him, to bring honor to His Kingdom, and to reflect glory on His name.

Communion in the Cave, Part One

The mysteries of God and our belief in Him are often inexplicable to those who have no understanding or relationship with The Creator. One of my earliest tangible experiences with "faith" came in a cave -- the famous Ruby Falls cave near Chattanooga. I remember descending into the depths of the earth by flashlight with the distant sound of the water's fall echoing off the walls of the cave. Finally, deep within the earth, our guide extinguished the lights to leave us buried underneath the earth in absolute darkness, the only sound the booming crash of the falling water. He exhorted us to "move forward."

"Move forward?" I thought, toward a raging waterfall half a mile under the earth. Yet, skootch forward, inch by inch, I did. I had faith in that guide, even though I could not see in the absence of light, even though I could hear rushing water and feel the mist from its movement. Then, suddenly, the Light blazed upon the water and the walls of the cave to blind us with its brilliance. Fire, Water, Earth all moved in a primeval dance of praise to The Creator. I stood in the perfect position to capture the moment in all its glory -- less than a yard from the precipice.

Bishop Kallistos Ware, in his work The Orthodox Way, asserts, "Faith is not the supposition that something might be true but the assurance that someone is there" (16) (emphasis mine).  A walk through darkness, led by that Someone, always leads to the brilliance of His Presence.

The Balance of Trust

One of my favorite activities each day is to check my family history email box to see who's found what bit of research or who's pondered a new link for future research. Even though I'm well into the stage of life known as "Middle Age," I'm the baby of this group. As such, I love to read through all their comments to glean their wisdom on topics as varied as legal statutes of colonial America to which ancestor cut the other ancestor out of his will. From time to time, they share personal wisdom with me, too -- wisdom that comes from living and learning through good times and bad.

Given the current state of the world's financial affairs, I thought you, too, might appreciate the words recently penned (well, typed) by one of my senior cousins, a businessman who works both his farm as well as his wooden stave manufacturing company. He's seen many things during his rich life and reached many conclusions. Here are his comments on the state of our nation in 2009:

Dear M.C.,

In the times in which we are looking (i.e., 1700s), cash money was very hard to come by.  Most “business” was done by barter or the extension of “credit” in the colonies.  The debt may have been denominated in “currency” but was seldom paid in “currency”.  The same is true today.  Very little of the American “business” ever exchanges actual dollars.  The free movement of debt and/or credit from one place to another is absolutely essential. To do this, companies must “trust” each other or “trust” an intermediate. Image what would happen in your life if you could not write a check or pay with a credit card.

The failure of “trust” is what has caused the current world wide financial “crisis”.

Have you ever thought about how much “trust” you place in a financial institution (bank).  When a person receives his pay check (a piece of paper with marks on it), he takes it to a bank and deposits it to his checking account.  His bank checks with the bank where the company has assets stored and people at each bank make marks on a record book that reduces the company assets and increases your bank’s assets.  Your bank then says we are holding $xxxxx of your assets which you may draw at your request (write a check).  NO MONEY HAS MOVED.  Your bank NEVER has more than 1% to 5% enough actual money (dollars) to give you dollars if you want them.  If you and several others decide you do not “trust” your bank and go to the bank and ask for your money (in dollars) your bank CANNOT give you dollars (a run on the bank and the bank fails).   There is only enough money printed by the government to amount to about 1%-2% of the business done every day – 99% is done with “trust” and marks (or computer records) between parties.  When this “trust” begins to fail EVERYTHING grinds to a halt.

If a person, financial institution, or a country is “spending” more than they “earn”, “trust” begins to fail. For the past 20 years, American households, American financial institutions, and American government, has been “spending” more than they “earned” by 2% to 10%.  Right now (4^th quarter 2008) the American government is spending 39% more than it earns.

Draw you own conclusions about whether this will restore the “trust” necessary to make “money” flow freely in the world’s (and America’s) business.

For the past 50 years this country has spent more money to buy things from the world than we have earned from selling things to the world – this is called “balance of trade”.  Just because the “deals” are complicated and the numbers are big does NOT change the results.  This is not forever sustainable.  No matter how long we delay payment of this debt (with complicated deals and accounting tricks of moving it from one place to another) it is still there and must be paid.  For my lifetime this debt has been pushed off into the future.  My children will have to pay this debt OR push it further to their children.  It may not work for another generation. The world is losing “trust” in American dollars and debt.  History can give you numerous examples of what happens when this is pushed too far.

In the late 1960”s I became alarmed at where this country was headed.  I asked a relative who worked well up the in financial world to explain to me how we could keep on running a balance of trade deficit year after year and not be in trouble.  He said “not to worry” they keep sending the money back to buy “complicated” financial instruments (stocks, bonds, etc) and that was as far as his mind would let him look.  It was all too complicated to explain to dumb old me but there was “no problem” – it could go on forever.  I did not argue – he was a guest.

So I turned my attention to our government which was actively doing what our founding fathers feared would happen in a democracy and tried to prevent by establishing a representative republic.  They felt a democracy could not survive beyond the point that the voters learned they could vote themselves wealthy, and, as such, establish not democracy but "Mob-ocracy."  Every elected official knows that if he does not make his constituents feel they are “better off” today than when he was elected we will “kick the rascal out and elect a new rascal”. I don’t have much hope the new rascals have the courage to do any more than “kick the can on down the road for 4 to 8 years” just like the old rascals did.  Getting (re)elected takes priority over everything in a democracy – even justice, truth, and honesty.

St. Nikolai of Ohrid On Fasting

 

Last fall I was introduced to a poet-priest who lived and worked in late 19th- and early 20th-century Serbia, St. Nikolai Velimirovich of Ohrid.  His beautiful poetical prayers are gathered in the book Prayers by the Lake and published by the Serbian Orthodox Church. Below is one of his works in which he contemplates the joy of fasting. May his thoughts encourage us as we walk through this season of Great Lent.

 

"On Fasting" from Prayers by the Lake by St. Nikolai Velimirovich

With fasting I gladden my hope in You, my Lord, Who are to come again.
Fasting hastens my preparations for Your coming, the sole expectation of my days and nights.
Fasting makes my body thinner, so that what remains can more easily shine with the spirit.
While waiting for You, I wish neither to nourish myself with blood nor to take life--so that the animals may sense the joy of my expectation.
But truly, abstaining from food will not save me. Even if I were to eat only the sand from the lake, You would not come to me, unless the fasting penetrated deeper into my soul.
I have come to know through my prayer, that bodily fasting is more a symbol of true fasting, very beneficial for someone who has only just begun to hope in You, and nevertheless very difficult for someone who merely practices it.
Therefore I have brought fasting into my soul to purge her of many impudent fiances and to prepare her for You like a virgin.
And I have brought fasting into my mind, to expel from it all daydreams about worldly matters and to demolish all the air castles, fabricated from these daydreams.
I have brought fasting into my heart, so that by means of it my heart might quell all passions and worldly selfishness.
I have brought fasting into my heart, so that heavenly peace might ineffably reign over my heart, when Your stormy Spirit encounters it.
I prescribe fasting for my tongue, to break itself of the habit of idle chatter and to speak reservedly only those words that clear the way for You to come.
And I have imposed fasting on my worries so that it may blow them all away before itself like the wind that blows away the mist, lest they stand like dense fog between me and You, and lest they turn my gaze back to the world.
And fasting has brought into my soul tranquility in the face of uncreated and created realms, and humility toward men and creatures. And it has instilled in me courage, the likes of which I never knew when I was armed with every sort of worldly weapon.
What was my hope before I began to fast except merely another story told by others, which passed from mouth to mouth?
The story told by others about salvation through prayer and fasting became my own.
False fasting accompanies false hope, just as no fasting accompanies hopelessness.
But just as a wheel follows behind a wheel, so true fasting follows true hope.
Help me to fast joyfully and to hope joyously, for You, my Most Joyful Feast, are drawing near to me with Your radiant smile.

The Lorica of St. Patrick

Lorica, or, The Breastplate of St. Patrick

I arise today
    Through a mighty strength, the invocation of the Trinity,
    Through belief in the threeness,
    Through confession of the oneness
    Of the Creator of Creation.

    I arise today
    Through the strength of Christ's birth with His baptism,
    Through the strength of His crucifixion with His burial,
    Through the strength of His resurrection with His ascension,
    Through the strength of His descent for the judgement of Doom.

    I arise today
    Through the strength of the love of the Cherubim,
    In the obedience of angels,
    In the service of archangels,
    In the hope of the resurrection to meet with reward,
    In the prayers of patriarchs,
    In prediction of prophets,
    In preaching of apostles,
    In faith of confessors,
    In innocence of holy virgins,
    In deeds of righteous men.

    I arise today
    Through the strength of heaven;
    Light of sun,
    Radiance of moon,
    Splendour of fire,
    Speed of lightning,
    Swiftness of wind,
    Depth of sea,
    Stability of earth,
    Firmness of rock.

    I arise today
    Through God's strength to pilot me:
    God's might to uphold me,
    God's wisdom to guide me,
    God's eye to look before me,
    God's ear to hear me,
    God's word to speak to me,
    God's hand to guard me,
    God's way to lie before me,
    God's shield to protect me,
    God's host to save me,

    From snares of devils,
    From temptation of vices,
    From every one who shall wish me ill,
    Afar and anear,
    Alone and in a multitude.
    I summon today all these powers between me and those evils,

    Against every cruel merciless power that may oppose my body
         and soul,
    Against incantations of false prophets,
    Against black laws of pagandom,
    Against false laws of heretics,
    Against craft of idolatry,
    Against spells of women and smiths and wizards,
    Against every knowledge that corrupts man's body and soul.

    Christ to shield me today
    Against poising, against burning,
    Against drowning, against wounding,
    So there come to me abundance of reward.

    Christ with me, Christ before me, Christ behind me,
    Christ in me, Christ beneath me, Christ above me,
    Christ on my right, Christ on my left,
    Christ when I lie down,
    Christ when I sit down,
    Christ when I arise,
    Christ in the heart of every man who thinks of me,
    Christ in the mouth of every one who speaks of me,
    Christ in the eye of every one who sees me,
    Christ in every ear that hears me.

    I arise today
    Through a mighty strength, the invocation of the Trinity,
    Through belief in the threeness,
    Through confession of the oneness
    Of the Creator of Creation.

--translated by Kuno Meyer

Feile St. Patrick

If you know me at all, you know that I am passionate about my Celtic heritage. I feel very fortunate to belong to a family line that has long held important the traditions of our ancestry. For generations that extend into mere lists of names, I have the privilege of knowing hundreds of generations of ancestors -- who they were and where they lived.  Most importantly, though, I consider myself blessed to link to a legacy of belief in the Triune God, for since the earliest days of the earthly appearance of the Son of God, many of my ancestors chose to become People of The Way, followers of the Christ.

As a descendant of Scots-Irish ancestry, I approach the 17th of March a little more introspectively than most of my friends. Veiled in the mists of myth and legend, there indeed lived a man some 1700 years ago who put aside his fear and loathing of terrorists who had destroyed his home, sold him into slavery, and treated him as lower than their livestock. The man whom we now name as St. Patrick loved his God so much that Patrick put aside his own fear and returned to his captors to share this same love with them. Those hated terrorists were my ancestors. How grateful I am for the life of St. Patrick, whose spiritual lineage would include my ancestry and, ultimately, include me.

I pray that, through the fiddling and dancing and Guinness-drinking that will come tomorrow, we might remember the true legacy of Patrick and learn to "do good to those who spitefully use you" in the name of the Prince of Peace. Never discount the importance that one person can make in sharing God's love with a hurting world.

The Difference a Day Makes

I woke today to the ethereal beauty that comes when one is transported to the realm of the White Witch and everything is coated in ice. Our trees are bowed low with the weight of the heavy ice that coats their branches. The woods gleam with sparkle of light glistening over the massed ice fragments that now mask their bark. A month ago, in February, I would have delighted in this unexpected natural spectacular. But today I can only look underneath the heavy ice to trees and shrubs that, two days ago, were covered in the full-bloom of spring's flowers. Indeed, the Ice Queen has spread her wrath upon the spring that so recently filled our fields with new life -- with flowers, green grass, blossoms and buds. Now I find myself thinking ahead to the fruit that we will not have this summer and to the flowers that will not brighten our rooms because of the Ice Queen's action.

Two days ago, here in the South we enjoyed a picture-perfect spring day. The temperature reached the upper 70s but there was a delicious cool breeze to counter the heat. The air was filled with the aromas of blooming trees and flowers. The full-bloom of the pear trees heralded the conquering of the cold grip of winter. Alas, the difference a day makes.

This is the day the Lord has made; I will rejoice and be glad in it. Find the beauty that is inherent in each day, for who knows what tomorrow will bring.

Fun-Raising Fund-Raising at the Predators Ball

On Sunday evening, March 8th, my hubby reclaimed his white polyester suit and black shirt from the depths of his closet as we headed with our friends among the staff and team of the Nashville Predators to the annual Predators Ball. This year's costume theme was the great Disco era. The arena was decorated with glittering balls, and the music was pure Donna Summer and BeeGees.

As part of the effort to raise funds for the Predators Foundation, each of the hockey team's players served as a table host. As we've attended most of these annual events, we've had the great pleasure to visit with several of the wonderful men who play for the Predators, like Steve Sullivan, Martin Erat, and Vernon Fiddler. This year we had the great fortune to be seated with one of our stellar defensemen, Dan Hamhuis, and his beautiful wife, Sarah. As long-time season ticket holders, we've watched Dan grow from his early amateur days in British Columbia and Milwaukee to his hard-hitting days here in Nashville. He levels a mean hip-check.

During the course of our dinner, I came to see a little better behind the visor of this young man who is usually one of the quiet members of this band of skaters. He and Sarah, even before they became parents last year, have a deep love for children and a concern for the troubles and heartaches of parents with sick children. As such, they are significant supporters of the Ronald McDonald Houses, both here and on the international level. Dan, along with the team mascot, Gnash, are often found visiting sick children on the teams' days off the ice. Both Dan and Sarah have a steady gentleness about them, a genuine compassion that gleams from within their eyes. What a wonderful opportunity to visit with a sports celebrity who understands the importance of fulfilling the vocation God has given him in this season of life.

Yep, I'm a die-hard hockey fan, not as much because I love the speed and athleticism of the game itself (though that is true), but more so because I support these young men who throw themselves into this arena of service with the understanding that this season of life is short. It's their responsibility to make the most of their present opportunities, including the opportunities to do good things for those people who need a helping hand. Well done, Dan!

The Peaceful Side of Pacific Mexico

I have some good friends who live in a small town on the Pacific coast of Mexico. When I asked them about the recent turmoil we’ve heard blaring from every news media source this week, they replied, “What turmoil?” They, like we citizens of Canada and the US, live in a country that covers “from sea to shining sea.” As we here in the South missed the Watts riots, they down in southern Mexico are missing the conflict along the Mexican/US border.

David and I have the privilege to visit these friends each year. Zihuatanejo, Mexico lies close to the resort town of Ixtapa, but geographic location is their only commonality. Zihua is an old town with historic records linked to shipping and fishing. It lies in a natural horseshoe bay, which provides its beaches and fishing piers with protection from the strong Pacific current and waves. Legend has it that this beautiful beach-filled bay once served as the retreat for the royal families of the indigenous peoples. Today, most of the locals follow the path of their forefathers as farmers or fishermen, but many of the younger generation have joined the rapidly growing hospitality industry. In the 1940s John Wayne and the Hollywood crowd vacationed here to fish and hunt jaguar and boar. In the 1960s the Hollywood drug crowd came here to conduct “mind-expanding retreats.” Now, in the 2000s Zihua is again a quiet artists’ haven, a place where the light and water inspire the creative energies.

Zihua reminds me of what Destin, Florida must have been like for vacationers 30 or 40 years ago. No water parks, no t-shirt shops, just beautiful smooth beaches. Locally-owned restaurants feature locally-grown fish and meat, veggies and fruits. The fish eat breakfast in the ocean before joining you for dinner. The afternoon drink is served in a coconut harvested that morning. The expansive viewshed features a variety of fishing and pleasure boats bobbing on the gentle surf. The rising sunlight captures the brown scrub of the mountains and the green leaves of the valleys. The setting sunlight shoots the ocean full of purple, orange, and yellow.

Yep, to me Zihua is a tropical paradise. I can’t wait to make my return.