Southwest Conference Blog

Fall in Love

by Rev. Lynne Hinton

Since it’s the season of graduation and we get to hear lots of advice of how to live life, I decided to write my own little speech. It’s simple enough; my advice to graduates and to us all is to fall in love.

Fall in love with yourself, with being a child of God, created in that perfect image. Fall in love with your Creator who formed you in your mother’s womb, knitted you to be just as you are, while knowing who you will be. Fall in love with the miracle shining back at you in your reflection.

Fall in love with the world and its magic of starry nights and changing moons, yellow sun and greening earth. Fall in love with the dry desert soil with its hidden seeds and nutrients, with the tender shoot and thin blades of grass. The cottonwoods and rivers, the rocks and creeks and small speckled eggs of blue birds. Love the breeze that changes things, the drift of clouds across the sky, the lean of blooms on stalks to light. Love the color of things, the way the world turns and breathes and tilts. Fall in love with this round planet with its vast horizons and deep waters, its layers of ash and stone and dirt.

Fall in love with your family, mothers and fathers and embarrassing uncles, your siblings, your spouse and your children, how they all learned your dark secrets and still make a place for you and call it home. For the moment that your beloveds took your breath away, remember that, hold onto it, and never ever let the memory of that moment leave you.

Fall in love with being yoked, with having companionship and friendship, with promises made even while knowing how hard they are to keep. Fall in love with the stuff you build together, the places you go, the dreams you make, the inside jokes that only you know. Fall in love with all of those connected to you because marriage and family and friends are what will hold you up when the earth quakes and everything shatters and they are the ones who sooner or later will have to take your calls. That’s just what they do, so fall in love with that.

Fall in love with Saturday mornings with their chores and games, with church and the silence arriving in prayer, with Thursday night spaghetti and Tuesday’s breakfast cheerios, and the taste of ripe strawberries and the smell of a burger on the grill and the chill of ice cold lemonade sliding down the back of your throat.

Fall in love with the way your body moves, for the delight it feels, the touch of water and sun, the hand caressing yours and the ache in muscles well used, for eyes that see and ears that hear and arms that can hold more than you thought, feet that take you from here to there, your heart that breaks and heals, breaks and heals.

Fall in love with the moments that make you laugh so hard you hurt and the ones you wish you could take away or at the very least, forget. Fall in love with them all because every one of them makes up this life that is yours, this life that is you.

Fall in love with what you have and what you want and fall in love with giving it all away because in the end we discover that it is never the things we own that make us happy. Fall in love with mercy and forgiveness and the unpredictability that is forged within the hours of every single day. With hope and faith. Fall in love with love, the love that makes you patient and kind and keeps you from being rude and irritable or having to have your own way.

Fall in love because all of it, all of this, all of life happens so fast and it is all so meaningful and not, important and not, necessary and not; so that the only thing that really lets you surrender at the end of it all is to know quite simply that you have experienced the sweetest and most thrilling part of what it is all about anyway, but only if you fall in love.

All Shall Be Well: “The Doctrine of Discovery: Hearing and Healing”

by Rev. Deb Church

I’m writing this reflection as I near the end of a travel study seminar offered by the Presbyterian (PCUSA) Peacemaking Program: “Native Lands of the Southwest: The Doctrine of Discovery and Its Legacy Today.”

Now if you find yourself thinking, “The doctrine of what?”, you’re not alone! Lots of people are in that boat, and I was, too, until somewhat recently. As I learn about it, however, I can’t not invite others into the conversation…

In a nutshell, the Doctrine of Discovery, whose roots can be found in a collection of 15th-century papal bulls (i.e., Pope-issued decrees), provided the theological and then legal justification used by European explorers, and later, American settlers, to claim lands that had been occupied by indigenous peoples for thousands of years, and additionally, to either convert or remove (which often meant, kill) those people as needed–or desired.

It’s a part of our country’s history that’s uncomfortable and painful–but true nonetheless. And we who have not learned about it (generally through no fault of our own) are left with an incomplete–and inaccurate–understanding of who we are and where we’ve come from as a nation. And even though none of us who’s alive now did any of those things, our lack of awareness and lack of acknowledgement of them contributes to the ongoing injustice and trauma experienced by Native people in our country. And it keeps all of us–not just our Native sisters and brothers, but all of us–from experiencing true healing and wholeness, as God desires for all of God’s creation!

So, fueled by a desire for greater healing within myself, as well as within our Native siblings, as well as within our country, I joined thirty-four others from fifteen states on the travel study seminar mentioned above. Gathering in Albuquerque last Friday [April 28], we boarded a bus, Phoenix-bound, and embarked on a journey of listening, learning, grappling, and growing.

As we’ve traveled hundreds of miles together through some of the Native Lands here in the Southwest, we’ve had the honor of meeting and hearing from quite a few Native Americans. They’ve shared stories of ancient ancestors and of grandparents, of lands lost and traditions preserved, of passed-down pain and passed-on lessons, of dances and foods and memories and faith, and so much more. Some stories have brought tears, and others, laughter; some generated shame and others, pride; some carried heartache and others, joy.

These Native folks have shared so much, and all they’ve asked was that we listen. That we bear witness. And so we’ve listened. And in listening, we’ve learned. In listening, we’ve been deeply moved. In listening, we’ve been changed. In their sharing and our listening, I hope and pray that we’ve all begun to be healed.

The pain is deep. The pain is old. The pain is real.

Hope and healing and transformation are also deep and old and real…

May what is Holy and Sacred within us and above us and below us and beside us and between us create a space among us where we can bear witness to each other’s pain, and in bearing witness, may hope be born and healing begin and transformation become possible…for all of us and all of God’s creation.

May it be so.

Mothering the World Right Now!

by Kay Klinkenborg, (Church of the Palms member), MA, Spiritual Director, Member Spiritual Directors International, Retired: RN, LMFT, Clinical Member AAMFT)

What is not in turmoil is easier to answer than list what is in turmoil in this world and on Earth. Climate change roaring; wars; politically divided countries; democracies fighting for their life; missing Indigenous women and children; mass shootings; trafficking; institutional and personal racism (in all its forms); addictions; more immigrants in the world than those that have a place to call home and we fear the list will run into eternity or the end of the planet upon which we live. What are we to do?

I reel at times with the realities of destruction, pain, terror I witness in the news. How do I stay centered; stay focused on what my core knows is true: LOVE…the world needs love.

Instantly my feminine energy kicks into gear. Mothering. Creation has been ‘mothering’ since the beginning. God speaks of ‘we’ in Genesis; not alone as Creator. Then other Hebrew Scriptures speak of Sophia, Wisdom; which has been interpreted by highly respected theologians as the feminine side of God.

The Talmud also introduces the term Shekhinah to connote God’s presence in the world. Though the term is grammatically feminine, in the Talmud it is not explicitly gendered, though in some passages it refers to moments when God shares in human experiences of loneliness, loss, and exile.¹

In the case of Jewish thought, grammar at times meets theology in as much as impersonal Hebrew nouns are gendered, so that words like hokhmah (wisdom) and shekhinah (presence) over time lent themselves by virtue of their feminine.¹

In fact, the personal name of God, Yahweh, which is revealed to Moses in Exodus 3, is a remarkable combination of both female and male grammatical endings. The first part of God’s name in Hebrew, “Yah,” is feminine, and the last part, “weh,” is masculine.²

I am pleased that I can attest to many men I know that use ‘mothering characteristics’ in their relationships and interactions. I am not suggesting that this is a woman’s task at all. In fact, I think history and biblical interpretations show us that feminine traits are revered. And our world right now needs that kind of love!.

Remember the famous song: “What the World Needs Now is Love, Love, Love.” One word most will resonant with to describe that is a verb: mothering.

Since the beginning of time…’mothering’…to nurture…to care for…to watch after’ has and does occur. It had to have occurred or evolution would not have sustained, extended or be continuing. As the human species evolves our archeological discoveries tell us that ‘mothering’ occurred. It is nature’s form of care taking, survival of the species.

One major thing I continue to learn and have reinforced: ‘getting out of God’s way’. My instinctual need to control, be in charge is being challenged. I am learning more about the spiritual discipline of surrender. Let God evolve. There is no surprise there is mass turmoil. There have always been pandemics, disasters, wars, a disappearance of life as we understand it. None of this is news. Yes, we live in a more informed world, and more technology but the real truth is human’s are still evolving and every generation has to learn for themselves what is means to be human, to love and have relationships with all peoples and creation. Our ownership that this can happen to us is what is new. This is nature. This is the evolving of life in this known Universe.

I have found myself ‘should-ing’; I should do this; I should say that; I should not be having this fear and anxiety. A sampling of my should list. What about ‘mothering myself’? What about starting there in order to have the energy and compassion to extend to others? If I can have compassion for my own journey/feelings during this extraordinary time in history, will not that enable me to understand/hear and have compassion beyond myself. Then I am ready to extend ‘mothering’.

Only in self-compassion and owning my own emotions in this particular journey will I then have the energy and compassionate response to others to be mothering the world. Mirabai Starr writes in her book Wild Mercy: Living the Fierce and Tender Wisdom of the Women Mystics, “…we need a mothering of the world together right now.” We need that feminine energy that is male and female brought forth to face these challenges.

I want to explicitly point out the fact that women who have not born children… mother; men… mother, It is part of our innate design if we own that part of ourselves. A friend taught me a profound lesson about mothering;

One particularly Mother’s Day, I was quite depressed; estranged from our son and blaming myself for his adult choices. A friend sent me a text that day that knew of the circumstances. “Kay, you have been mothering people your entire adult life. As a nurse, friend, manager, counselor, consultant and the list goes on. So today claim all the mothering you have and do. Let that bring comfort.”

So I am challenging myself as I write to this audience, let my ‘mothering show forth’; let my love be visible and make me an instrument that releases a song of ‘Love, Love, Love…’

Going on without denying any aspect of the human drama is what strength is all about. We are carved by life into instruments that will release our song, if we can hold each up to the carving.
Mark Nepo

^1”Feminine Images of God”: Yehudah Mirsky, Jewish Women’s Archive.

²CBE (cbeinternational.org) (Christians for Biblical Equality). “The Feminine Imagery of God in the Hebrew Bible.” Joan P. Schaupp | October 30, 2000.

©Kay Klinkenborg, Revised May 2023 (May 2022)

Crawling Out of the Hole

by Jane Jones*

I’m constantly amazed at how the Holy One works – we just have to learn to (as my Gramma Milly would say), “Let go. Let God.”

I suppose I can admit to the fact that as a lifelong “fixer” this is one hard task! I’m used to being in charge of something – I’ve trusted what I’ve known as “The Voice” my whole life, and so when I feel called to take on a challenge, I tend to step up to the plate and get to work.

Often, I’m successful in these attempts, because I believe the Holy One uses me as a tool for the good in this world. I feel humble and grateful to be chosen to help…but what happens when you suddenly find yourself on the other end of fixing?

Four years ago, real life of a different type happened and suddenly, I was the one who needed help at the deepest level anyone could know. A relationship I treasured and totally devoted myself to suddenly ended; my marriage of 22 years ran into a cement wall. I was blind-sided, shocked, heartbroken. In one day, my whole world took a 180-degree turn.

The circumstances swirling around it were ugly, very public, and it all ripped me apart. So much pain, so much doubt about myself, so many details forcing me to step into a life I truly never expected to live – on my own.

I went down a very dark hole, doing all the things another instinct tells us to do to ease the pain, and I wondered how I’d ever crawl out of it again.

This Fixer was in desperate need of being brought back to life.

Here’s the part where the God reveals just how amazing a Being God is…

At the worst time I’ve ever experienced, I was surrounded by a cloud of atypical saints, (most of them not people of faith!) and each one of them contributed to the healing journey I found myself on.

I truly was never alone.

Did you know that the God has many disguises? Do you remember that Spirit can show up in the oddest places at just the right moment (in the wrong place) to give you a poke, reminding you who and Whose you are? Did you know that getting through a life-changing event can change you in ways you never thought you would know and understand; dropping new hope, new strength, new life right at your feet?

These aren’t just buzz words thrown at us during a sermon in any church…this is absolute Truth.

I know this, because I’ve been constantly in awe of how the Holy One works – how the Holy One reaches out – always, and often when you least expect it.

With honest love from friends, family, even people I didn’t know personally, I’m finding my way back. I’m crawling out of that dark hole, one step at a time. I’m also learning about real forgiveness – God’s trademark – and true peace.

The newer me is a modified version for sure, (and a better one, I think) – and as I squint each morning at a much brighter day ahead, I find that I’m not the only one who has suffered such loss. There is so much to grieve about in this world these days…The Voice is telling me that it’s time to get to work again.

What’s different, though, is that instead of being a fixer, I’m now a “mender” because we’re all in this together. We need to patch up the torn places…and keep going.

It feels good to step up to the plate again.

Thanks, Holy One.

*Jane Jones served as the licensed pastor for First Congregational Church in Prescott from 2009 – 2015, has been SWC’s Moderator and Moderator Elect, is almost a former member of COCAM B, and currently sits in on Faith Formation ZOOM meetings. She will be one of the facilitators at the “Doing Grief Community Healing Project” at Church of the Palms in Sun City.

The Unexpected Parade

by Rev. Lynne Hinton

In an essay entitled “In Today, Already Walks Tomorrow,” Joseph Hankins recalls a Peanuts cartoon from years ago. In the first panel Charlie Brown says to Linus, “I learned something in school today. I signed up for folk guitar, computer programming, art, and a music appreciation class.” He continues, “I got spelling, history, arithmetic, and two study periods.” “So, what did you learn?” Linus asks. And Charlie Brown replies, “I learned that what you sign up for and what you get are two different things.” (Vital Speeches of the Day, October, 1997.)

If you’ve lived long enough, you totally understand what Charlie Brown is saying. One author wrote, “If you want to hear God laugh, go ahead and tell your plans.” Life rarely turns out like we expect. And perhaps no event teaches us this lesson more clearly than the event of Palm Sunday.

From the gospels we learn that Jesus and his followers come into Jerusalem and there is quite a show. For all reasonable purposes, it certainly seems like a parade and it seems like a political parade because of the waving of palms, the symbol of Jewish independence, waved for national heroes and because of what they say, at least in Mark’s version. They shout Hosanna, the nearest translation in English being, “God save the king!” The people participating in this parade, people marching and singing and shouting and waving palms, have a certain expectation of what this event means. Jesus is the new king of Israel and the days of oppression under Rome are coming to an end. Jesus is taking them to a revolution, to freedom from occupation. Jesus is finally setting them free. That’s what they expect. The parade people, maybe the disciples, maybe everyone, expect that Jesus is getting ready to change everything. And on that mark, they are right, but their expectations of how Jesus was going to do that were however, completely off the mark.

There is a lot about life that turns out that way, don’t you think? There are a lot of things we begin with that turn out to be completely different in the end. We get married and expect that we will always be in love with that person. We expect that we will be together until death do us part. And then, well, marriage isn’t quite what we expected and we find ourselves separated and then divorced. We have children, raise them up expecting them to share our values, want the same things in life that we do, and then we discover that our children are nothing like we expected. We go to college, pick a major, and expect that we will find careers that suit us, that fit who we are, and that we will stay in the same place with the same company forever. And well, all of us know how that turns out. We put our money in 401K’s. We invest in secure places. We expect that we can retire and live without too much discomfort and oh, haven’t we discovered that our expectations didn’t work out quite as we had thought? We expect that we will be ready for the deaths of loved ones and we aren’t. We expect that our health will hold up and it doesn’t. We expect that our church will always be there and we expect that nations will be moral. So often, none of these things are true. But the important part of this story is that Jesus shows up. Even when he must understand the peoples’ presence, his disciples’ expectations and friends’ dreams are not in line with what is about to happen. Still he shows up, with humility and wisdom. And love.

John Vannorsdall wrote: “Palm Sunday is not a day when we throw up our hands because Jesus was killed. It’s not a day of pessimism when we condemn the people who went home to supper, the crowds which later became ugly. It’s not a day when we get morose over the money changers in the temple and declare that nothing ever turns out well, that even God’s small parade was a fiasco. Palm Sunday, rather, is a day when we say, knowing all of this, knowing that people are fickle, get tired of parades and go home, knowing that religious leaders like things neat and tidy and kill reformers, knowing that the humble truth teller is walked upon, knowing that people will sell their souls for a handful of silver, knowing that even good friends will sleep when we suffer, it’s a day when knowing all this, Jesus came riding.”

The truth in Palm Sunday is that the event that started in a parade to celebrate Jesus, ended in a mob gathering to kill Jesus. And the lesson to be learned is that nothing ever really turns out as we expected. That doesn’t, however, mean that we have been forsaken by God. It doesn’t mean we are being punished or abandoned. It means that even when the parade doesn’t take you where you want to go, there is still the opportunity to grow in your faith, and share in the work of grace you have been called to do. Even as our expectations are not fulfilled, God is still present, active, and involved in our lives.

The Seeds of Others

by Rev. Lynne Hinton

Once we moved into a church parsonage in Washington State in late October where I took the position as Interim Pastor. The front and back yards, though small, had landscaped flower beds wrapping around the house and garage. No one told us what was planted in the beds. No one told us what to expect once winter ended. In the first few weeks of spring at least forty or fifty bulbs had broken through the thawed ground and by early May, this house we called home for a few more months, was surrounded by color, bathed in the hues of spring. We came to realize that we lived in a beauty imagined and created by the hearts and hands of others.

In that season of birth and new growth and in a place gardened by others, I was reminded of the power of planting seeds. I was reminded of the hope that emerges in the hearts of planters, how diligently farmers and gardeners rake and plow and dig and make way for life. Every year lovers of the earth go to nurseries and stores, purchase the seeds or bulbs that offer possibilities, and in faith, with care and hope, drop them into the earth in joyful anticipation. Most plant gardens for themselves but some folks, like the anonymous members of that church, hearty ones who love to landscape and care for church properties, plant their bulbs and seeds for others.

It is the same in spiritual gardens. We plant seeds of kindness, faith, hope, joy, love, peace, and patience in our own hearts, hoping to enjoy the bounty of our work and desire. We plant seeds within our souls, toiling with tools to grow spiritual gifts that we look forward to see come to fruition. We pray and study and meditate and practice for us to become patient, to become kind, to become people of peace and love. It is the harvest of our work for our own souls. But we also plant seeds in the hearts of others, in temporary places, in organizations, places of worship, in souls of those who may or may not ever know our names. We plant seeds without having to reap the bounty. We plant seeds without needing to watch the garden grow. We plant seeds letting the hope of what might come, the power of what may spring forth, the joy we expect for someone else, to be reason enough to keep planting.

I’m sure I could have asked members of the Trustees who planted those bulbs that grew in perfectly-spaced rows, filling the beds in the front and back yards of the parsonage and someone would have given me names; but I did not. Instead as they popped and bloomed I thought of the people in my life who planted seeds within my soul and never saw what grew. I think of grandmothers and teachers, the parents of my adolescent friends, the authors of books that shaped me, the countless words of wisdom from others that fell like seeds in my soul and have finally begun to bloom. I will think of planting my own seeds, being kind to strangers, writing words of hope, working for justice and peace, and learn how to be content with just the planting. It takes faith to grow a garden you don’t get to harvest. It takes faith to plant a seed. I know because I lived that season in the center of someone else’s hopes for spring.

Do Lent, or not do Lent

by Rev. Talitha Arnold, Senior Pastor, United Church of Santa Fe

“What the heck is Lent?” a friend asked. “What’s with the ashes, the morose songs, the somber colors? I thought the United Church was for happy Christians. Why do we have to do Lent?”

Truth be known, we don’t. “Doing Lent” or giving up something for the next 40 days isn’t required at the United Church of Santa Fe. As part of the United Church of Christ, we’re in the reform Protestant tradition (Congregational, Disciples of Christ, Baptists, etc.) that historically didn’t “do” Lent. In fact, many “free church” Protestants looked with suspicion on Lent. Some still do. Lent was something those Catholics, Lutherans, or Episcopalians did. The ashes, giving up meat or candy, all that purple was a bit too Popish or liturgical for our tastes. As my friend said, we were supposed to be happy Christians.

Other Protestants didn’t mark Lent, because as one friend observed, in her church it was Lent all the time. With all the rules against dancing, drinking, and card playing, they didn’t have anything to give up!

So technically, we don’t have to do anything or give up anything for Lent at the United Church of Santa Fe. But many of us have found that Easter has deeper meaning, if we set aside Lent’s 40 days for something other than life or business as usual.

If we wanted to sing in a concert, we’d need to set aside time to rehearse. To compete in a basketball tournament, we’d take time to practice our free throws. The same is true for our experience of Easter. To know new life in any form—spiritually, physically, intellectually—we need to take time to practice. Setting aside the 40 days of Lent for study, prayer, silence, and other spiritual disciplines is a way to engage new ideas, new feelings, new possibilities.

Sometimes to let in new life, we also have to let go of some things. Before you start a new project, you might need to clear off your desk. Before you ran a marathon, you might want to shed some weight. The same is true of our souls. Sometimes we need to clean out and shed extra baggage to make room for something new.

Observing Lent is not required for admission to Easter at the United Church. Come Easter morning, you’ll be as welcome at United as you are any morning.

But perhaps if we take the 40 days of Lent to practice new life or if we set aside time to remember the sacredness of our lives and all life, then maybe, just maybe, Easter might have a new meaning for us this year. We don’t have to “do Lent,” but we might be surprised what’s possible if we do.

Fasten your seat belts—Lent has come!

Get ready—because Easter is on its way!

Lent: It’s the most wonderful time of the year!

by Rev. Deb Church

“…for dust you are and to dust you will return.” (Genesis 3:19b, NIV)

You may or may not know that this coming Wednesday, February 22, 2023, is Ash Wednesday… which marks the beginning of the season of Lent…which will take us, before we know it, to Easter. Christ is risen! He is risen indeed!

But wait—first, Lent. Woo hoo! Everyone’s favorite time of year! Who doesn’t look forward to this season set aside for deep self-examination and grim-faced repentance? Who doesn’t love this period reserved for turning away from (bad!) fleshly debauchery and turning toward (good!) spiritual disciplines?

Who doesn’t count down the days until it begins–this opportunity to focus intentionally on our sinful nature and our need for repentance?

Lent–say (sing??) it with me: “It’s the most wonderful time of the year!”

Wait…that doesn’t seem quite right…

Or maybe it is…

What if we thought of Lent not as a forced opportunity to focus on our sinful nature, but instead as a chance to claim more deeply our true identity as God’s beloved, and consider what are the parts of our personality that are keeping us from embracing that more fully?

What if we thought of Lent not as a period reserved for begrudgingly giving up something we do that’s “bad” for us and equally begrudgingly taking on something that’s supposedly “good” for us, but instead as a window of opportunity during which we’re given permission, and in fact encouraged, to recognize and step away from the things that keep us fractured and frantic and broken, and make choices instead for what brings us healing and wholeness and peace–which, yes, might possibly include allowing more space for the Divine Source of our being in our day-to-day living?

What if we thought of Lent not as a season of somber self-examination and grim-faced repentance, but instead as a recurring invitation for honest and humble reflection on who we are, who we want to be, who God is calling us to be, and how we’re living our “one wild and precious life?” (from Mary Oliver’s poem, This Summer Day) as one (and a collection) of God’s beloved??

Is it possible that Lent is the most wonderful time of the year??

Maybe, just maybe…

May God’s Holy Spirit, and an openness in our human spirits, be with us all as we prepare to enter this holy season, in all of our glorious humanity!

Love Letters From the Border

by Rev. Victoria S. Ubben

The Christian tradition has a long history of letter-writing. Parts of the Bible are letters written to others and these letters have been preserved. The epistles in the New Testament are great examples of letters written, delivered, read, and saved in the Bible. Besides those letters, the early Christians continued to send letters around as the church was gaining momentum and strength. There are many other examples of letter-writing in Christian history.

For example, according to tradition St. Valentine was a physician and priest in Rome in the third century. Valentine was arrested and imprisoned for his Christian faith in the One God. The emperor condemned him to death on February 14, 269 or 270 C.E. (That part is history, but there is more to this story.) My mother always told me the rest of this story when I was young. She told me that while he was imprisoned, Valentine converted his jailer to the Christian faith by restoring sight to the jailer’s daughter, Julia (who was born blind). On the eve of his death, Valentine wrote a note to Julia, reminding her to remain faithful to God. He signed it, “From your Valentine.” The story continues: in 496 C.E. Pope Gelasius set aside February 14 as a celebration of Valentine’s martyrdom.

A more recent example of religious letter-writing is a letter dated August 29, 2022. The letter was written to the Rev. Dr. William Lyons, who was the Conference Minister of the Southwest Conference of the United Church of Christ at that time. Sister Lika who ministers to migrants sent a “cordial invitation” inviting a group of us from the Southwest Conference to visit Casa de la Misericordia y de Todas las Naciones (The House of Mercy and All Nations) which is a migrant shelter located in Nogales, Sonora, Mexico. Sister Lika wrote in her letter, “We currently have a population of 120 people, most of them under 18 years of age from different parts of the Mexican Republic and Central America. Your presence will be a living testimony of a God who listens and accompanies.” Wow! I wanted to be a “living testimony.” My bags were packed in a flash, and I could not wait to get to the shelter on the Mexican side of the border!

The people whom I met at the shelter were seeking asylum in the USA, and they all had remarkable (often heart-breaking and terrifying) stories of why they would leave behind their belongings, their homes, and even family members to find their way to northern Mexico and (hopefully) enter the U.S.A. legally. Through translators, I heard with my own ears real stories of real migrants.

One of the most striking things about my visit to border shelter is this: migrants spend time at this shelter waiting for legal entry into the U.S.A.; some migrants wait only four weeks, and some migrants wait up to a year. Migrants who wait have time for writing letters. Upon leaving the shelter some migrants take a bit of time to write “thank you” notes to those who had helped them along the way. The shelter has plenty of colored paper and markers and pens for writing. As migrants continue their journey, many of them leave behind colorful hand-written notes of thanks and gratitude to those who have helped them.

Besides the memories that I made and the stories that I heard while at the shelter, I have a handful of these letters written by those migrants who wait. Besides sharing part of my visit-to-the-border-story at an adult education forum at our church, I was able to engage some friends in the congregation to help me with translation. These are a few pieces of just two of those many letters:

“Esteemed ladies and gentlemen, I have the pleasure of thanking you for all your help… In these most difficult moments you demonstrate warmth, care, and affection. You offered your hand when we most needed it. With your help, you make us feel cared for. Many thanks, Cano Reyna Family”

(Translated by Sasha and shared with her permission. Sasha is a freshman in high school and attends the United Church of Santa Fe with her family.)

“Permit me with all respect to write to you in this way. I know that we don’t know each other, and that speaks to the great goodness you have in your hearts to help, no matter who it is. I ask you to continue with this great work… Thanks for helping us without knowing us and without expecting anything in return, other than sincere thanks. Thank you for what you [all] have done for my family. From The Ramos Barrera Family”

(Translated by Faith and shared with her permission. Faith is a member of our Immigration Task Force at the United Church of Santa Fe.)

Letter-writing, note-writing, and Valentine-sending has taken on a new meaning for me now that I have obtained and have read these letters from some migrants at the border shelter. We can all use Valentine’s Day as a reminder to send messages of love (or thanks or affirmation) to those who have been important to us or who have had an impact on our lives. Writing a note (or sending a text message or an email message or making a phone call) might be just the message that someone needs to read (or hear).

To learn more about the ministry and mission of Casa de la Misericordia y de Todas Las Naciones, watch this brief video:

Attributes of God: Free from Anxiety

by Rev. Teresa Blythe

Don’t know about you, but I, like millions of others right now, have anxiety issues. “Generalized Anxiety Disorder” is the technical term my therapist writes down in their little notebook. I’m not ashamed to admit this. In some ways, when you look around at all that is going on in the world, like…

Mass shootings
Raging war in Ukraine
Wildfires, drought, floods, the shrinking ice caps in the Arctic
Lack of affordable housing
Inflation
Political division and threats of civil war

Well, if you’re not a little bit anxious, you just aren’t paying attention.

In our continuing exploration of the attributes of God found listed in the apocryphal book of Wisdom (7:22-24), our lovely Wisdom passage tells us that the Divine is free from anxiety.

For Wisdom, the fashioner of all things, taught me…

…there is in her a spirit that is free from anxiety.

This is also something Jesus — a New Testament Wisdom figure — told us: “don’t be anxious about anything,” in Matthew 6:25-31.

What would it be like to be free from anxiety? To have hope that God, working through all of us, can bring about a more peaceful, sustainable, and just world?

This attribute of God is one reason I attend worship. In my congregation, we never ignore the injustices of the world but at the same time we always emphasize God’s grace and the hope for change. It is this hope that has the ability — if I allow it — to calm my anxious spirit.

Anxiety can easily raise my blood pressure. This morning, as I prepared for the day and did my daily blood pressure check, it was borderline high. So, I took 15 minutes to sit, breathe and be in the presence of God (the one free from anxiety!). After finishing, I rechecked and sure enough, my blood pressure was back to normal.

We can’t singlehandedly make the world a more just and sustainable place. We can, however, sometimes lower our anxiety-produced-high blood pressure if we…

Check in with ourselves. Ask “what do I need right now?”
Take several slow, steady, deep breaths.
Let go of anxious thoughts with our favorite mantra or just saying “I let it go.”
Allow God to absorb our worries and burdens for the time being.

Knowing that God is free from anxiety can be inspiration for us. We won’t be free from concerns and anxiety all the time (we need some of it for self-preservation), yet we can give ourselves the breaks we need to continue our work toward a better, more just world.