Mystical Murmurs: My Interfaith Life

Times change, and I guess we change with them. Or we don't, at our peril. At the library where I've worked since 1981, we are bowing to the pressures of technology. I have spent all day (actually I've spent a lot of time for a couple of years!) cancelling titles which are now available online. Lots of people go to the web first for their information now (and so do I, as a matter of fact), so libraries are cancelling lots of material in print, and subscribing to those materials electronically. None of this is a surprise. Pundits in Libraryland have been forecasting the death of print format, and while I don't think print will be completely dead for quite awhile, I have to admit that they've been right so far. Our library dumpsters are all full of titles we labored to acquire, catalog, process, and shelve over the years. Our blogs testify to how easily lots of us have adapted to the cyber world. What is surprising is how this feels, and how quickly it struck. As I

Last night we celebrated Christ's Ascension with a 7:30 service. We went all-out: choir, bell-choir, a wonderful homily, and a nice reception to follow. Too bad only 6 people came. OK, it was a week-night. OK, it was threatening to rain. But where was everyone? In the chancel, it was beastly hot. Sweat ran down between my shoulder-blades. The Rector had declined, when asked, to turn on the air conditioning (I wish, for him, 15 minutes of menopause!). After I nearly dropped the big E bell because my hand was so moist, it occurred to me that I should have changed out of the jeans that had now molded themselves to my rump. I guess Ascension seems like an anti-climax to some people. After Easter, attendance goes way down, as folks begin to open up their beach houses and dust off the golf clubs. Jesus has safely risen -- where's the sunscreen? We'll see you again when Sunday school starts up in the fall! Oh well. These services are not for us, after all. Jesus has ascended!

The merry band depicted at the left is the group of attendees at JulianFest 2007, which took place last weekend at the Schoenstatt Sisters of Mary Conference Center in Waukesha , WI. The attendees were Members Regular of the Order of Julian of Norwich, plus Oblates and Associates of the Order. For two days, we listened to speakers, worshiped together, enjoyed meals and social time in common, and did still prayer as a group. This was only my second JulianFest , but I cannot imagine missing it. I guess the best part, as I told my uncomprehending husband, who cannot imagine going to church at all, much less going numerous times within a 48-hour period, is that at JulianFest I am surrounded by people who are much like me: who share my values, love worship and still prayer, enjoy chanting the psalms, and want to study Mother Julian's writings on a deeper level. I don't stand out like a sore thumb among them, as I sometimes feel I do in my parish. The atmosphere is calm, accep

The goofy faces to the left belong to Amber and Max, our standard poodle puppies, who will have their first birthday on May 16th. Below is Shadow, our older standard poodle, born June 11, 1996 -- she's the boss! She's not very fond of the pups, and she tends to bully them a bit, though they're both bigger than she is. That's why she gets photographed separately. I had a boyfriend once who said I had an excessive love of dogs. He was from Ireland, where (he said) dogs just lived outside. That he's not my husband now speaks volumes. When I come home after work, there they are -- and so happy to see me! They're priceless to me, which is why I call them Woman's Best Friends. When my spirit has dried up like old shoe leather, when life seems like a barren spot surrounded by mountains, there they are, with their tongues hanging out, ready to go running in the woods. Thank You, Lord, for dogs. I'm not feeling very profound tonight, just grateful.

The unpromising little fellows on the right are moonflower plants, the first vines I have ever tried to grow. I chose moonflowers while fantasizing that they would grow up above the trellis onto my porch roof, making the porch look like a southern verandah or an English bower (with nods to Grandmere Mimi and to MadPriest, respectively). I chose them also because they open at night, and since I am still full-time in the rat-race, evening is the only time I get to sit on the porch. I planted the seeds and was amazed that they germinated so quickly -- a matter of days -- and then two sizeable leaves popped out the top of each sprout. After about two more weeks, a slender tendril appeared at the top of each plant, extending upwards, seeking something to grasp. I hurriedly got them into the pot, and helped them attach themselves to the trellis. Now that they have got a good grip, a row of new leaves is emerging. Having been an English major is something of a curse (aside from the difficul