Seeing the glass as half fuck-you. yes. nice. thank you.
God using his beloved children to reach out to his beloved children.
I hope this post sparks tons of stories, seeing God work in the field is good reading.
So I was filling up the van with gas midway thru a not going very well mission trip in downtown Orlando with 10 very dramatic pre teens. I sent them all in the mini mart to get snacks so I could catch my breath at the pump for a minute. This old street lady with not very many teeth made eye contact (yikes) and staggered up asking for spare change. My half full glass snarkily said hey, look, I'll give you ten bucks if you pray for me and these dang kids before I kill them all. She tucked the ten away put down her big trash bag of stuff and with both hands looked me in the eye and blessed the "fuck this trip" right out of my head. Awesome. Then she picked up her bag and wandered off, sing-songing "I've got ten dollars, I've got ten dollars".
Hi Chuck. Funny I stumbled on to this today. It's a very good story. I'm glad you didn't kill those kids and it sounds like you got your ten bucks worth. It's also funny that the last time I saw you was very nearly Orlando. love
Well, Nadia, I'm a 73 year old woman and I don't own a cardigan, but I wish I could give you a hug. Several years ago God led me somehow to your podcast of sermons from HFASS. I have read and/or listened to you anywhere I can find you ever since. You are truly gifted. My faith gets shaky but you give me hope in this crazy world. May God bless you!
I once had a little old man come through my register (I was working at a Trader Joe’s), I rang him out and he left or so I thought. All of a sudden he was coming through again but to walk behind me on the no-customers-allowed side…as he did so he whispered into my ear “I would love to walk through your curly hair barefoot.” And just like that he was gone again. No time for me to react or awkwardly thank him. Going forward I’m going to think back on this memory and consider it a red cardigan moment. 💗🙏🏻🤷🏼♀️
As part of my community work, I find myself using Camille Yarborough's wonderful phrase 'Take your praise' when speaking to people who don't often get told what an amazing job they do or what an amazing human they are.
From giving cookies to first responders, encouraging mamas to see their own hard work behind their kids' success or thanking the amazing neighbour who looked after my cats during my recent roadtrip, I think we all need to take honest, guiltless pleasure those moments of appreciation,
So on that note, I want to say I appreciate you, Pastor Nadia, for helping me on so many more levels than I could explain.
May your path from here out be filled with abundant love in scratchy (and soft) cardigans.✌️☺️💜💜💜
Rev. Nadia, thank you for this gorgeous reflection. I use the terms "Resilient Old Broads" and "Little Old Ladies," as measures of deep respect. They do not fuck around. They tell the truth. They have so much power and grace and they are here to give it away.
PS "seeing the glass as half fuck-you" IS MY NEW FAVORITE PHRASE EVER. Well done! <3
I have been listening to some daily meditations by Rabbi Rami Shapiro for the Days of Awe between Rosh Hashanah and Yom Kippur focusing on the 13 attributes of Godliness. Day 6 was "Preserving kindness for generations". He talks about what memories create our lives and the idea of remembering kindness instead of meanness. I always remember the meanness. Somehow it never occurred to me to focus on the kindness. What you've shared is like another God voice saying, "yes, here I am again suggesting you let go of a couple of those mean stories and find the kindness stories to preserve." Thank you! I love the Corners.
Are you kidding me?!!!! "I so often have mined my memories for ore to fuel a coal fire of hurt." EGG-ZAK-LEEEE!! I feel this sentence! So often when I feel like I need to let go or move on or be positive (blah blah), the old stories come into my head and I (having read this and having an humungous AH-HA moment) realize now that these hurtful, shame-filled, less than proud moments are not just there, they are actually acting like a tether pulling me back from where I need to be. The thought of thanking them, for whatever they did to create the wonderful being I am right now, and then letting that shit go is an amazing one. As always, thank you. Sweet Jesus, thank you for the day my non-swearing, Christ-loving, calm, glass half (more than half) FULL, patient husband came home and said - I heard an interview with this pastor on NPR, Nadia, and I think you would really like her. Um, yeah I do. The glass half fuck-you? Oh, I am a poster child for this sister. 50-something, menopausal, divorced, remarried, brain tumor survivor, mother, wife, sister, daughter, friend, church member, neighbor, coworker, appear to have it all together but have way too many "I f'ing hate everything" moments - - there have been many moments where people tell me I inspire them and I simply brush it off. Maybe, just maybe, this is my queue to say thank you, let some shit go and embrace the compliments for the blessings they are. Sending you much love and many thanks.
I have found that many people, for whatever reason, cannot stand/fathom being blessed/celebrated/whatever by others, and it always hurts my heart a bit. We've been taught to deflect so much of that when we should really embrace it, at least in my mind. Thank you for your words
Well, this is just so true it rings. This 70 yo blesses you, too and I'm going to get busy gathering my wreath together! Jan Richardson, in her marvel of a book of blessings says it like this in her Blessing of the Well: "Quiet the way you always tell your story to yourself." Yup. You are sisters. Thanks NBW.
It is an almost painful feeling to feel that embrace of scratchy cardigan love. For me to feel worthy of receiving is difficult - but then kinda like God's grace I guess. Beautifully stated and thank you Nadia.
OMG I don't think anything has resonated with me more. I have a whole collection of little stories I tell, all funny, and most also tragic or mortifying in some way. Why don't I keep the multitude of other stories -so many blessings in 59 years!- front and center? Maybe because they're not funny? I will work on this, thank you.
This happened to me when I recently became an elder. At the laying on of hands, it was the older women elders whose touch moved me, the looks in their eyes and the sincerity I felt in their comments to me that moved me to tears and gave me so much peace. As a I-hate-to-cry person, it was quite a surprise.
I love this so much. The swearing and the scratchy and the why are you blessing me when there is so much broken?! Wait…did someone just encourage me to be….who I am? I don’t even know what to do with that after all the years of “helpful” suggestions to be who I’m not.
Wonderful message, Nadia, as always. I too will strive to be far less suspicious of and resistant to those who see me for me, celebrate me for me, and dare to encourage me to continue being the perfectly-imperfect-but-man-I’m-always-trying me.
Bless you, Nadia. From this late 40s only wears soft stretchy stuff girl.
Seeing the glass as half fuck-you. yes. nice. thank you.
God using his beloved children to reach out to his beloved children.
I hope this post sparks tons of stories, seeing God work in the field is good reading.
So I was filling up the van with gas midway thru a not going very well mission trip in downtown Orlando with 10 very dramatic pre teens. I sent them all in the mini mart to get snacks so I could catch my breath at the pump for a minute. This old street lady with not very many teeth made eye contact (yikes) and staggered up asking for spare change. My half full glass snarkily said hey, look, I'll give you ten bucks if you pray for me and these dang kids before I kill them all. She tucked the ten away put down her big trash bag of stuff and with both hands looked me in the eye and blessed the "fuck this trip" right out of my head. Awesome. Then she picked up her bag and wandered off, sing-songing "I've got ten dollars, I've got ten dollars".
God was that you? Yeah I thought so.. Thanks.
Thanks for sharing this awesome story.
"Very dramatic preteens" is a totally redundant saying: "preteens = very dramatic preteens." :)
Totally a god moment. <3
8 girls 2 boys. nuff said.✌
A = B. 🙂
Hi Chuck. Funny I stumbled on to this today. It's a very good story. I'm glad you didn't kill those kids and it sounds like you got your ten bucks worth. It's also funny that the last time I saw you was very nearly Orlando. love
Well, Nadia, I'm a 73 year old woman and I don't own a cardigan, but I wish I could give you a hug. Several years ago God led me somehow to your podcast of sermons from HFASS. I have read and/or listened to you anywhere I can find you ever since. You are truly gifted. My faith gets shaky but you give me hope in this crazy world. May God bless you!
You are exactly right. Thank you for your words. I'm 72.
I once had a little old man come through my register (I was working at a Trader Joe’s), I rang him out and he left or so I thought. All of a sudden he was coming through again but to walk behind me on the no-customers-allowed side…as he did so he whispered into my ear “I would love to walk through your curly hair barefoot.” And just like that he was gone again. No time for me to react or awkwardly thank him. Going forward I’m going to think back on this memory and consider it a red cardigan moment. 💗🙏🏻🤷🏼♀️
As part of my community work, I find myself using Camille Yarborough's wonderful phrase 'Take your praise' when speaking to people who don't often get told what an amazing job they do or what an amazing human they are.
From giving cookies to first responders, encouraging mamas to see their own hard work behind their kids' success or thanking the amazing neighbour who looked after my cats during my recent roadtrip, I think we all need to take honest, guiltless pleasure those moments of appreciation,
So on that note, I want to say I appreciate you, Pastor Nadia, for helping me on so many more levels than I could explain.
May your path from here out be filled with abundant love in scratchy (and soft) cardigans.✌️☺️💜💜💜
Rev. Nadia, thank you for this gorgeous reflection. I use the terms "Resilient Old Broads" and "Little Old Ladies," as measures of deep respect. They do not fuck around. They tell the truth. They have so much power and grace and they are here to give it away.
PS "seeing the glass as half fuck-you" IS MY NEW FAVORITE PHRASE EVER. Well done! <3
I have been listening to some daily meditations by Rabbi Rami Shapiro for the Days of Awe between Rosh Hashanah and Yom Kippur focusing on the 13 attributes of Godliness. Day 6 was "Preserving kindness for generations". He talks about what memories create our lives and the idea of remembering kindness instead of meanness. I always remember the meanness. Somehow it never occurred to me to focus on the kindness. What you've shared is like another God voice saying, "yes, here I am again suggesting you let go of a couple of those mean stories and find the kindness stories to preserve." Thank you! I love the Corners.
I think I'm going to find a red sweater to put on and hug myself a few times.
Are you kidding me?!!!! "I so often have mined my memories for ore to fuel a coal fire of hurt." EGG-ZAK-LEEEE!! I feel this sentence! So often when I feel like I need to let go or move on or be positive (blah blah), the old stories come into my head and I (having read this and having an humungous AH-HA moment) realize now that these hurtful, shame-filled, less than proud moments are not just there, they are actually acting like a tether pulling me back from where I need to be. The thought of thanking them, for whatever they did to create the wonderful being I am right now, and then letting that shit go is an amazing one. As always, thank you. Sweet Jesus, thank you for the day my non-swearing, Christ-loving, calm, glass half (more than half) FULL, patient husband came home and said - I heard an interview with this pastor on NPR, Nadia, and I think you would really like her. Um, yeah I do. The glass half fuck-you? Oh, I am a poster child for this sister. 50-something, menopausal, divorced, remarried, brain tumor survivor, mother, wife, sister, daughter, friend, church member, neighbor, coworker, appear to have it all together but have way too many "I f'ing hate everything" moments - - there have been many moments where people tell me I inspire them and I simply brush it off. Maybe, just maybe, this is my queue to say thank you, let some shit go and embrace the compliments for the blessings they are. Sending you much love and many thanks.
I have found that many people, for whatever reason, cannot stand/fathom being blessed/celebrated/whatever by others, and it always hurts my heart a bit. We've been taught to deflect so much of that when we should really embrace it, at least in my mind. Thank you for your words
Well, this is just so true it rings. This 70 yo blesses you, too and I'm going to get busy gathering my wreath together! Jan Richardson, in her marvel of a book of blessings says it like this in her Blessing of the Well: "Quiet the way you always tell your story to yourself." Yup. You are sisters. Thanks NBW.
I'm reading Jan's Sacred Journey for the 2nd time-so meaningful! Thanks for mentioning her book of blessings.
I read them over and over. Everyday language and linked to the seasons.
It is an almost painful feeling to feel that embrace of scratchy cardigan love. For me to feel worthy of receiving is difficult - but then kinda like God's grace I guess. Beautifully stated and thank you Nadia.
OMG I don't think anything has resonated with me more. I have a whole collection of little stories I tell, all funny, and most also tragic or mortifying in some way. Why don't I keep the multitude of other stories -so many blessings in 59 years!- front and center? Maybe because they're not funny? I will work on this, thank you.
I will give you [all of you] a way to absorb the blessings that come your way:
SWALLOW
Even if you forgot to do it at the moment; it's OK. Just do it now. Remember it, and swallow.
This happened to me when I recently became an elder. At the laying on of hands, it was the older women elders whose touch moved me, the looks in their eyes and the sincerity I felt in their comments to me that moved me to tears and gave me so much peace. As a I-hate-to-cry person, it was quite a surprise.
I love this so much. The swearing and the scratchy and the why are you blessing me when there is so much broken?! Wait…did someone just encourage me to be….who I am? I don’t even know what to do with that after all the years of “helpful” suggestions to be who I’m not.
Wonderful message, Nadia, as always. I too will strive to be far less suspicious of and resistant to those who see me for me, celebrate me for me, and dare to encourage me to continue being the perfectly-imperfect-but-man-I’m-always-trying me.
Bless you, Nadia. From this late 40s only wears soft stretchy stuff girl.
I aspire to be on of those old ladies in ten years and meanwhile to recieve any blessings that come my way. thank you... loved reading this today.