Labor Day Reminiscence; Sweet Memories of Home

The ceremonial Last Day of Summer is here again. Our long Labor Day weekend comes with a flourish as fairs, carnivals and festivals offer a wide variety of music, whimsical entertainment and every imaginable kind of tempting, mouthwatering (and usually unhealthy) treat. Who can resist a deep fried Oreo? Backyard grills are firing up and kids are taking their last dips in pools that will close for the season on Tuesday.

Some of my favorite memories of Labor Day take me back to my childhood in Danville, Illinois. Despite the looming spectre of school starting after the weekend, concerns were muted in part because of the National Sweet Corn Festival which would be in full swing a few miles away in Hoopeston. We could perch at our cousin Martha and Tom Merritt’s house, wander on downtown and fill ourselves with succulent, Supersweet bliss. To those who might chuckle at my glee, you just haven't had corn on the cob until you eat a few dozen ears of Illinois gold. The process of creating culinary perfection involves an antique steam engine and somewhere around 50 tons of sweet corn buttered and salted on conveyor belts delivered for free to ravenous foodies of all kinds. This has been going on since 1938 and shows no sign of demise. There are lots of other activities like carnival rides, a midway, live music, bingo, car shows and lots of beer for grown ups. But nothing makes my mouth water and heart long for home like the good old Sweet Corn Festival.

The days of picnics in the park with speeches by union leaders have gone by the wayside and the labor movement seems to have lost its umph. Jerry Lewis isn't around to entertain-a-thon us any more with various labor organizations raising money for MDA. There is still a glimmer of respect paid to workers at the Labor Day Concert in Washington, DC with fireworks and the National Symphony Orchestra. But so it goes with many of our holidays. We often lose the original intent in favor of our celebration. Perhaps that would be a really good topic for another column. Be that as it may let the good times roll this weekend. Eat a bunch of sweet corn.

Dance of the Ninth Day

"In the cold you wrap me.  In my uncertainty you listen. In all my joys you celebrate.  At every turn you meet me with competence and grace.  What a fine dance we have together."

Mary Anne Radmacher

I once had this epiphany and scribbled down the words that came to my mind.  My intention was to let them marinate and become a poem.  Of course, they still may, but for more than thirty years have yet to inspire more verse.  

They came to me at a time when I had decided never to become involved in another intimate relationship.  Pain from losing my marriage and children was so intense that I vowed a life of celibacy.  I would travel alone.  It was the middle of the night when this phrase came along; ‘Dance, Dance, Dance!  I said celebrate not celibate.’  

Though the words may sound simple or silly, I was changed.  Gradually opening myself to others, I miraculously found the love of my life and we married.  I have been restored to family, children and grandchildren.  Life is good...and it is intended to be a dance of celebration.  This is my lesson of The Ninth Day of Christmas.

The gift of Nine Ladies Dancing from our true love is compelling.  It takes the intimacy of the dance and entwines it into spiritual direction.  We are reminded of the nine fruits of the Holy Spirit.  This Spirit is God revealed as the interactive dancer who teaches us how to live and love.  We are supposed to be engaged in an active relationship with God and with each other. 

The nine Christmas gifts include; love, joy, peace, patience, kindness, generosity, faithfulness, gentleness, and self-control.  A dancer needs a partner.  When there is nobody to dance with there is no relationship or affection.  God needs us and we need God.  So let’s dance.  It is a perfect day to engage.

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=RV-Z1YwaOiw

"I hope you never lose your sense of wonder
You get your fill to eat but always keep that hunger
May you never take one single breath for granted
God forbid love ever leave you empty handed." ~ Mark Sanders and Tia Sillers

Seasonal Wonders

"A comprehensible God is no more than an idol.” ~ Madeleine L’Engle

Autumn is here and I can hardly wait for all of its splendor and a glimpse of God’s immense grandeur.  How can we begin to think that we are masters of anything?  No matter what we do, how much money or power we wield, what kind of influence we exert, whether we are at the top of our game and fit as a fiddle, nothing…absolutely nothing can even vaguely compare to the magnificence of God’s work.  When we let go of the illusion that we are in charge of anything, child-like innocence returns.  Then our eyes will be re-opened to the splendor of it all.

My most vivid memories of God are not at an altar or sitting in a congregation. They come back in waves of wonder which return me to Max Patch overlooking the reds, oranges, russets, and greens nestled in the Blue Ridge Mountains.  I think of waterfalls cascading in the Pisgah National Forest.  Memories flow of a brilliant fall sunrise over the Atlantic just before a tropical storm.  I recall double rainbows on the plains of Lincoln County, Colorado reflected on the icy scrub brush and rambling tumbleweed.  God is incomprehensible. Whenever we think otherwise, we are ignoring the evidence.  Happy autumn splendor to everyone!  Celebrate it with gusto!

Robert Kenneth Jones is an innovator in the treatment of addiction and childhood abuse.

In a career spanning over four decades, his work helping people recover from childhood abuse and addiction has earned him the respect of his peers.

His blog, An Elephant for Breakfast, testifies to the power of the human spirit to overcome the worst of life’s difficulties. We encourage you to visit and share this rich source of healing, inspiration and meditation.

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