Feet

Feet Without Bass Weejuns

“ but those who wait for the Lord shall renew their strength,
    they shall mount up with wings like eagles,
they shall run and not be weary,
    they shall walk and not faint.”—Isaiah 40:31.

A rainy Friday night in January 1967. I am a junior in medical school in Memphis, on my way home in my Volkswagen Bug after my weekly indulgence of a hair appointment. It was an eventful day early on in my obstetrical rotation. I deliver stillborn twins. I do not remember showing any pastoral care to that mother. I am just here to learn how to deliver babies. My long-term goal is to be a pediatrician and care for babies, especially newborns.   

Suddenly, there is a loud noise, and my little red car abruptly stops. For a few seconds, it is darker than usual. I cannot find my brown Bass Weejun loafers. One knee is dislocated. My chin is bleeding. My ankles and feet hurt. I know I cannot walk. Later, I am told I was hit head-on by a drunk driver in a black Cadillac, making a left turn into a bar. My parents come to care for me. They are told I might not walk again. If I walk, I learn, I will never have Weejuns on my feet again, always special supportive shoes!

I must leave medical school and join a lower class six months later. Over time, I begin an amazing lifelong career as a pediatric radiologist, as I decide this specialty might be easier on my feet. Today, I still suffer from the injuries I endured in that crash more than fifty years later. Each step can sometimes be excruciating on my feet and ankles, even after multiple surgeries. I now walk with a quad cane and, more often, a walker.  

Twenty-three years ago, I became involved in a new ministry and am now an ordained deacon in the Episcopal Church. Today, I work with people in various types of recovery. I am also trained as a spiritual director, since this can be a “sitting down and listening ministry.”

Although I have retired from my medical practice, working in hospitals has taught me to be comfortable around the sick. I have also been trained as a pastoral care chaplain in the Community of Hope, and every week before the pandemic, I would visit or call those in the hospital and homebound.

I give thanks for the privilege of this journey, as I recently celebrated the anniversary of my ordination.

When I experience pain in my feet, especially on these visits, I remind myself about a balm as I walk down long hospital corridors. The ministries I have loved, which have brought joy to my life: my career in pediatric radiology, working in recovery, becoming a spiritual director, and being a pastoral caregiver—all have opened up to me as a direct result of my broken feet.

All my ministries developed from a response to injuries inflicted on my body. That which caused harm has become a path to healing for myself and perhaps for others.

There is one more balm. When I dropped back into a different medical class, I met my husband of over fifty years. He has been a companion par excellence, and I am awed to realize that we would never have known each other except for the accident that crushed my feet and ankles. There would not be three adult children, their spouses, and six grandchildren who remind us of God’s goodness every day, even in difficult times. 

Every day, my painful, battle-scarred feet remind me of Easter breaking out of Good Friday.

Joanna Seibert, “Feet,” Christian Century, February 26, 2020.

Joanna  https://www.joannaseibert.com/

May we help each other find resurrection from all of life’s tragedies, especially the pandemic, our recent tornadoes, and the war in Ukraine and the Middle East.

Loaves and Fishes

Loaves and Fishes

“Young people say, “What can one person do? What is the sense of our small effort?” They cannot see that we can only lay one brick at a time, take one step at a time; we can be responsible only for the one action of the present moment. But we can beg for an increase of love in our hearts that will vitalize and transform these actions, and know that God will take them and multiply them, as Jesus multiplied the loaves and fishes.”

–Dorothy Day, The Catholic Worker, September 1957

Free Read Tandy

I often hear from friends that they want to give up their ministry. The need is overwhelming, and they cannot imagine how their small part can make any difference. My response is that God calls us to bloom where we are planted in our small part of the world, try to help and make changes right where we are, and let God take over the rest.

This 20th-century social activist reminds us of something else we should have remembered. We do what God calls us to do, and God will multiply the works we have done, just like the loaves and fishes. How exciting that the story of the multiplying loaves and fishes did not only happen in Jesus’ time. It happens every day, every hour we do ministry.

I am thinking of one friend, Tandy Cobb, who decided she was being called to send books to women in prison during the scariest part of the pandemic. Tandy is a retired, much beloved high school English teacher who still wanted to share her love of reading with others and heard a call to women’s prison ministry. She presented her idea to our Daughters of the King (DOK) and then to the congregation at Saint Mark’s.

As a result, 23 St. Mark’s parishioners joined the ministry, including 16 DOK members. The books go directly to inmates who have requested them and are not returned. One group called other individuals and bookstores for paperback books. The Boy Scouts helped move books and gave up a part of their scout hut to store them. Donations of money and paperbacks came in. Members of the group met with Tandy for three days each month to fill orders from the women in prison.

Then, the chaplain at the prison wanted the group, now called Free Read, to send books to the men’s prison as well. So recently, they filled an order from 324 men and women for 648 books. Sheila and Carly, two other team members, delivered the two carloads of books to the prison.

The notes written by inmates on their book request forms let them know that Free Read is a program that matters to them. They received letters saying they would leave prison before the last shipment of books they ordered, but could the books be sent to their home address? Most notes are expressions of gratitude, but they frequently receive glimpses of their lives. One man asked them to pray for his release. One lady asked for a large print Bible for her bunk-mate, who is almost blind. Another Free Read regular wrote she has no family to visit her, so she looks forward to receiving books each month. Recently, Mary wrote, “Thank you for the wonderful books. We so enjoy sharing them. So many special friendships are formed. We learn a lot about one another. God bless you.”

The group at Saint Mark’s repeatedly talks about how this ministry blesses them.

Some might believe God is still in “the multiplying the loaves and fishes” business.

carly free read

Joanna joannaseibert.com  https://www.joannaseibert.com/

Resurrection

Resurrection

“Our memory of Jesus’ resurrection fails us if we only understand his resurrection as a miracle. Jesus’ resurrection was indeed a miracle; however, Jesus’ resurrection needs to be more than a miracle. It needs to be normal … every day … how we live and breathe: with resurrection power.”—Br. Curtis Almquist, SSJE, from “Brother, Give Us a Word,” a daily email sent to friends and followers of the Society of Saint John the Evangelist (SSJE.org).

Easter Trinity Cathedral Banner a gift from Charliss in memory of her father

This is at the heart of spiritual direction, helping spiritual friends see daily, yearly resurrection in their lives in the daily Good Fridays that present themselves. It often takes more than three days to become aware of these resurrections. However, as we become more conscious of the resurrections, we become more open to trust and a little more patient that there will be a resurrection from each new darkness we face.

My experience is that I most often draw closer and spend more time with God during the darkness. On the dark Good Fridays of my life, I learn about surrender, where I “re-turn” my life and my will over to God.

A close family member or friend dies. We learn about the sacredness of life and spend more time living in the present with gratitude for each day. We learn to honor and be grateful for our relationship by extending to others the love and kindness we knew in that relationship.

Our children act out. We see our part in it and try to change our relationship with them.

Our job becomes more and more difficult. But then, we finally leave it, or maybe even are fired. But, after much time, we find a job that is our bliss.

 A medical illness slows us down. We seek a more meaningful life by living at a slower pace, a day at a time.

We are caught in our addiction and lose our job. We change our whole lifestyle and outlook to live without the addiction.

Someone has harmed us mentally, physically, or spiritually. Over time, we realize that unless we can forgive and move on, that person is still hurting us. We then slowly learn about daily forgiveness for the small hurts we feel each day.

Miracles become the ordinary. We see God at work in our lives. Resurrection.

A gift of the past pandemic was to slow down our lives and live in the present moment. Slowing down is one of the best ways to see ordinary miracles. This is resurrection.

Today, our prayers are also for those whose lives could not slow down, especially our healthcare workers and first responders.

Joanna  joannaseibert.com https://www.joannaseibert.com/