Storm Warnings

Storm Warnings

Storm Coming Patti Martin

“Jesus also said to the crowds, ‘When you see a cloud rising in the west, you immediately say, ‘It is going to rain’; and so it happens. You know how to interpret the appearance of the earth and sky, but why do you not know how to interpret the present time? And why do you not judge for yourselves what is right?’”—Luke 12:54-57.

I sit and watch a storm roll in off the beach in the early morning. The sun is out, with blue skies to the east, but the sky is grayer to the west. Clouds move overhead. Sometimes the dark overhead carpet seems so close that I feel I can almost touch it. Fishing boats return to port to weather the coming storm. Birds take shelter. The great blue heron moves inland. The pelicans are nowhere to be seen. The mighty osprey is the last to give up, looking for one more meal before returning to her nest. A violent wind precedes and announces the pivotal event, bringing almost horizontal, driving rain.

Jesus reminds us that we see signs that storms may be coming in our lives. Our children act out, or their grades at school drop. We receive occasional hints that a project is not going well, but we are too busy to address it right now. Later. Too many other things are going on. We recall how a particular food affected us in the past, yet we still eat it anyway. Our clothes no longer fit, but we do not change our eating habits, exercise routine, or lifestyle. We ignore pain, a sign that some body part needs attention. 

The same principle applies to our spiritual life. Our prayer life feels dry. We cannot remember our dreams. We can no longer write. Everything we read seems dull and uninteresting. We make every excuse not to attend corporate worship. We stop going outdoors. It is too hot. Too cold. Too sunny. Too cloudy. We stop talking to friends. We isolate ourselves. 

In medicine, a sign is an outward or objective finding that suggests what is going on, such as the red butterfly rash across the nose characteristic of lupus erythematosus. On the other hand, a symptom is something that is subjectively experienced by an individual, such as lupus-related fatigue or pain associated with a urinary tract infection, and it requires some interpretation. 

We are constantly given signs and experience symptoms in our outer and inner lives that can guide us. God never abandons us. We are called only to keep ourselves “in tune” so we can see and hear. Spiritual directors, spiritual friends, and spiritual practices are gifts that can help us along this journey and put us in a position to connect with God. They assure us that we are not alone and that a directional move or change in course may be needed in our outer or inner life. But then, of course, it is God who changes us.

My own experience, however, is that I am so much like that osprey, waiting until the very last minute before surrendering to something greater than myself.

This last Rembrandt depicts another storm. I grieve every time I see it mentioned. I rejoice that I had the chance to see the mesmerizing painting several times before it was stolen from one of my favorite museums. We see the violent storms of our lives clearly and often have difficulty seeing Christ there with us, yet he is so clearly there, beside us. 

Rembrandt Storm

Christ in the Storm on the Sea of Galilee, Rembrandt, 1632. This painting was stolen in 1990 during the largest art heist in U.S. history from the Isabella Stewart Gardner Museum in Boston. A $10M reward for its recovery has not been claimed. Its empty frame remains hanging in the museum.

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

The Family of Man.. and Women

The Family of Man… and Women

Migrant Mother California Lange 1936

“The purpose of these pages is twofold.

To serve as a remembrance of our happy times in the past and of our own search for ourselves.

To serve as a message of hope for a successful life in every respect in the future.

“A past and a future—both tied together by the present—not only the present, but love—without which neither the past nor the future would exist.”— Judy Rand and Sue Latham, inscribed in The Family of Man, probably written in 1964 and given as a gift at our graduation from the University of North Carolina at Greensboro, the Women’s College of the University of North Carolina at that time.

The Family of Man was a photographic exhibition of 503 photographs from 68 countries, created by Edward Steichen for the Museum of Modern Art in 1955. The exhibit toured the world, drawing record-breaking crowds for eight years. The book from the exhibit became an instant success and has never been out of print.

My husband directs the archaeology of our past memories from our basement and recently brought me this photographic book from The Family of Man exhibition to consider giving to one of our granddaughters for graduation.

It is the perfect gift to pass on. Zoe will not know Judy Rand and Sue Latham, who gifted the book to me. But the book will always carry the inscribed love of these two dear college friends from my dorm. Unfortunately, in the intervening years, I had lost touch with Judy and Sue. However, my hope is that the inscription from Judy and Sue in the book will carry the love of friends who changed my life and may also bring meaning to Zoe at a similar age in her adventures, more than half a century later.

We all have a call: to continue treasuring the love we received from friends and to pass that love on as best we can. This copy of The Family of Man is a treasured, visible tradition that makes this possible. Discussing the photographs in the book with my granddaughter and talking about the friends who gifted it will be another way—simply spending time together in the present moment, remembering the past, and looking to the future. A sacred time.

A wonderful postscript. Judy Rand and I recently reconnected on Facebook. She is still the amazing person I once knew. After many years in academia, she is now an artist and musician living in West Virginia.

judy rand

Joanna joannaseibert.com

Close Encounters of the Best Kind

Close Encounters of the Best Kind

After Kate Bowler wrote about returning to her hometown for a summer vacation, she recently asked readers to write about a place or person that brings us back to ourselves almost immediately.

I knew immediately what to say. That always happens to me when I return to my hometown, a thousand miles away. At a high school reunion, we can't pretend to be something we’re not. We take off our masks. They knew us before we became who we are today. They know our roots. They know our beginnings and early development. They were there and cared for us, and still do. We knew how to speak our truth then without questioning it. 

I remember a boy in my class whom I knew only peripherally telling me in a science class that he planned to drop out of high school. I told him not to do it. I saw him at a class reunion twenty-five years later. He came up to me, said he had listened to me, didn't leave, and thanked me. I do not remember the incident twenty-five years earlier when I simply told him not to leave school. I think it was probably a reflexive truth about education that had become part of my DNA even at that early age.

Many years later, I now think about him, especially as he recently died, and I read over his obituary. He never left our hometown and worked at the pulp and paper mill there for 40 years as a third-generation employee. He was well known for his skill and work ethic as a welder. Technology and photography became his hobbies, and he was endlessly curious. He was deeply loved by his family. During his retirement, he regularly met old friends for breakfast, spent time riding along on friends’ crabbing boats, and enjoyed cooking crabs. After his wife died, he developed a relationship with another member of our high school class of thirty -three whose spouse had also died.

He lived life to the fullest until the end. He will be remembered for his kindness, skills, and curiosity, as well as for the many quiet ways he helped those around him.

As I read his obituary, it was clear that he loved and was loved.

 I have a friend who tells me that perhaps encounters like the one in high school might be our sole purpose in life.

Joanna joannaseibert.com