​“…tired though they were by many a trouble, their overflowing happiness, and even their deep poverty, resulted in a flood of generosity.” 2 Cor. 8:2

“Attention is the doorway to gratitude, the doorway to wonder the doorway to reciprocity.” Robin Wall Kimmerer, “Braiding Sweetgrass”

How often, in our tiredness, do we loss attention? We find ourselves sleepwalking through life and we miss the opportunities for reciprocity, the opportunities to give back or start the giving. We are fatigued. Pandemic fatigue. Mask fatigue. Separation fatigue. Zoom fatigue. Tired though we are, we must allow ourselves overflowing happiness, overflowing generosity and overflowing reciprocity.

As I sat by my window during last week’s snowstorms I was mesmerized by the work of the robins and other birds in my Mountain Ash tree. Not only were they gathering the berries for their much needed trip south, they were also knocking the heavy snowfall from the branches, thus ensuring that the life of the Mountain Ash would continue for the next flock of birds, typically the Cedar Waxwings at Christmas time. If the robins hadn’t come to feast on the bounty of the October berries, the snow would have collapsed the tree and the berries for the waxwing’s Christmas feast would have died. In turn, the waxwings will finish off the berries in December, allowing the much needed dormant season of the tree to focus its rest in preparation for the spring bloom. And thus the cycle continues. Reciprocity of Mother Earth at her finest.

Tired though I was during the storm, I allowed myself the opportunity to give my attention to this doorway of wonder at these birds. I also saw how tired the birds were as they would, on occasion, fly into my big window. I was relieved that none of them sustained an injury; they shook themselves off and got back to the feasting and flying. That is what I find myself doing. Shaking the tired from my mind and going back through the next doorway of opportunity. Shaking the tired from my bones and going through the next doorway of wonder. The wonder that I find in prayer, laughter and grace. Won’t you follow me, tired though you are, through that doorway of wonder?


Peace,
Pastor Pam

​This week's Spirit's Nudge continues to be dedicated to the Indigenous People of Red Lodge. As part of our church's commitment to reparation, I would like to ask each of you to read our current Land Acknowledgment and then make a commitment to forming a group of people who will work on keeping our Land Acknowledgment appropriate and current. To find out more about "How to write a Land Acknowledgment" use your Googling gifts, be in conversation with Indigenous People and with each other. I look forward to having great Community Conversations around our work. 
​
Peace
Pastor Pam

Red Lodge Land Acknowledgment
We begin by acknowledging, with humility, that the land where we sit and stand today is a traditional place of hunting and worship for Native peoples, here in Red Lodge they are the Apsaalooké [ohb-SAH-lookay]. "Apsaalooke," means "children of the large-beaked bird," who we know as the Crow People. 

​Today we also acknowledge with gratitude the indigenous peoples and Nations on whose land we live throughout Montana and Northern Wyoming:

The Blackfeet Salish, Kootenai and Pend D'Oreilles (PENDORAY)
Assiniboine (ASSINABOYN) & Gros Ventre (GROW-VANT), Sioux
Northern Cheyenne, Chippewa Cree, Eastern Shoshone & Northern Arapaho
 
 Let us remember that we occupy their sacred land.

​This week's Spirit's Nudge is dedicated to the Indigenous People of Red Lodge. As part of our church's commitment to reparation, I would like to ask each of you to read our current Land Acknowledgment and then make a commitment to forming a group of people who will work on keeping our Land Acknowledgment appropriate and current. To find out more about "How to write a Land Acknowledgment" use your Googling gifts, be in conversation with Indigenous People and with each other. I look forward to having great Community Conversations around our work. 

​Peace,
Pastor Pam

Red Lodge Land Acknowledgment
We begin by acknowledging, with humility, that the land where we sit and stand today is a traditional place of hunting and worship for Native peoples including the Cheyenne, and the Očeti Šakówiŋ [oh-CHEY-tee shah-KOH-win] [Dakota, Lakota, Nakota], and the Apsaalooké [ohb-SAH-lookay]. "Apsaalooke," means "children of the large-beaked bird," however white men misinterpreted the word as "crow."

Today, we honor chief Plenty Coup, who worked hard to ensure the Crow survived as a People, and that their customs and spiritual beliefs carried on. Currently the Crow Tribe has an enrolled membership of approximately 11,000, of whom 7,900 reside on the Crow Indian Reservation, about 100 miles from Red Lodge, where they keep their traditions and ceremonies alive. 85% of the tribe speaks Crow as their first language, and their economy is derived from the rich resources of the Tribe's land.
 
Today we also acknowledge with gratitude the indigenous peoples and Nations on whose land we live throughout Montana and Northern Wyoming:

The Blackfeet Salish, Kootenai and Pend D'Oreilles (PENDORAY)
Assiniboine (ASSINABOYN) & Gros Ventre (GROW-VANT), Sioux
Northern Cheyenne, Chippewa Cree, Eastern Shoshone & Northern Arapaho
 
 Let us remember that we occupy their sacred land.

Psalm 147:3  “He heals the brokenhearted, and binds up their wounds.”
Jonah 3:5 “Then the people of Nineveh believed in God; and they called a fast and put on sackcloth from the greatest to the least of them.”

In August of 2015, my life took a crashing turn. My younger son, Kyle, and I came to a place in our life where a healthy relationship was no longer possible, and we stopped all communication. To say that I was brokenhearted would be the understatement of the century. Not only did Kyle end all communication with me, he walked away from his son Brady and daughter Mia as well. Please don’t judge him…just keep reading.

I was serving as a chaplain at the time and the church that I was a member of had a prayer shawl ministry. I would collect the beautifully woven shawls every couple of months and deliver them to the hospital as part of our chaplain’s ministry. One of the shawls happened to catch my eye and that “nudge” encouraged me to take it home to my grandson Brady. I explained to Brady that the shawl would bring him comfort and that we would pray while it was wrapped around him. Our prayer would be, “God…please help daddy get his act together.” As I recall I didn’t use the word “act” and Brady giggled. So, I left the shawl on Brady’s bed and went about my life…bereft and doing a whole lot of yelling at God. I’m not sure if Brady ever prayed that prayer again…until this week.

So, the prayer shawl moved with me. For some reason I didn’t leave it with Brady when I left Connecticut. Another nudge maybe? I yelled at God, packed it up and took it to the Adirondacks. When I unpacked it I yelled at God some more. When I left the Adirondacks, I packed it up and took it with me to my sister's, where I unpacked it and yelled at God a whole lot more. 6 months later I packed it up…again…and along to Montana came the prayer shawl. When I unpacked it here in Red Lodge, I stuffed it on a shelf in my closet, this time just shaking my head and walking away. Every now and then I’d see it and…yes…I’d yell at God again. I vaguely remember stuffing it into a bag of clothes that I was going to donate to the Senior Center when I did what every other American was doing this spring…my pandemic closet clean-out. I didn’t yell at God, I just shook my head, cried a river of tears, and tied up the bag.

On August 24, 2020, almost 5 years to the day, I got a phone call…from Kyle.

It went something like this, “Mom, I’m sorry. I’ve really screwed up. I’m in big trouble…and I need you.” The next month passed by in a blur of tears, phone calls and emails. And then on Wednesday of last week I finally took a minute (another nudge?) and tossed those 4 bags of clothes that I’d been pandemically cleaning out of my closets since March into my truck. When I got out of my truck to deliver the bags, one of the bags popped open…and there was that prayer shawl. My first thought was, “There’s that prayer shawl again. That thing just keeps showing up like a …. like a… Oh my Lord. IT WORKED!!” I grabbed that prayer shawl out of the bag, wrapped it around my shoulders, and brought it back home. I didn’t let go of that shawl for a full 24 hours. Yep…I even slept with it. To say that my prayers of yelling at God had changed to prayers of gratitude and repentance for the last 5 years would be the second understatement of the century. That payer shawl had become my sackcloth.

On Thursday I was, in typical Pam fashion, hustling and bustling at the church, completely distracted by doing too many things at once. As I walked by our bulletin board the “nudge” got me to stop for just a second and read a note that was pinned up there. It was a thank you note to our prayer shawl ministry, thanking us for the beautiful prayer shawl that they had received, letting us know how much it meant to them. I’m not sure when they had received their prayer shawl and I know that even if it was 5 years ago, it had done its work. We had done OUR work. Our “Love in Action” is the work of the hands that knit those shawls in prayer. God’s “Love in Action” is bringing peace and comfort to the ones who need it.  

I may have originally brought this prayer shawl home for Brady… and now I see… I’m actually the one who needed it.
​
Peace,
Pastor Pam