humble thanks

To our veterans and all our men & women in the armed forces.  We’re thinking of you.  If I had an old oak tree, like I had in my yard in Des Moines, I’d tie a yellow ribbon ’round it.  This citizen is grateful for your sacrifice in defending America and the cause of liberty around the world, and the sacrifice your families also make.  May you all come home soon, safely.

what’s in a name

It looks like snow outside. Dara inspired me to dig into the meaning of my name. I always thought it meant “from the linden tree isle” – which sounded romantic, but vague. Where is this linden tree isle? I like names that describe (“Reese” – enthusiastic, stream, meadow) or ones that ask questions (like “Michael” – my personal favorite -”Who is like God?”). Mine was some abstract, lame-o place somewhere, where ladies in swing and take tea in pastoral scenes, and everybody is at leisure. Bor-ing.

So I dug a little deeper (thank you, Google), and lo-and-behold, Lindsay is a place – kinda. Not only is it a surname for some promient families in England and Scotland (ahem!), but said island is Lindisfarne in Northumbria, England. Which is on the northeastern coast – you can practically breathe Scottish air when the wind’s out of the north. “Lindisfarne” is derived from farne (“retreat”) and lindis (a small tidal river adjacent to the island). It’s also called “Holy Island”. This little island is separated from the mainland twice a day when it floods with the tides – as described by Sir Walter Scott:

For with the flow and ebb, its style

Varies from continent to isle;

Dry shood o’er sands, twice every day,

The pilgrims to the shrine find way;

Twice every day the waves efface

Of staves and sandelled feet the trace.

Pilgrims? Why, yes! The island is the site where St. Aidan (missionary from Iona, Scotland, and originally from Ireland) came around 635 AD and sparked the Christian evangelization of northern England. That’s a story unto itself. Recently, Lindisfarne has become the center of a Celtic Christian revival. The ruins of a priory are still there, and rustic stakes still mark the path along the causeway where pilgrims can walk across to the island when the tide is low. It looks like a beautiful place. There’s a little town on the island of about 200 people, and a Tudor castle on the highest point. It’s also a haven for wintering birds.

Flickr credits: Rockartwolf and Cromacom

It’s nice to put my name to a place – to have a connection with history, and to know in fact what I always imagined my name to mean – a place of peace, a retreat, a closeness to nature and friendship with God. Hopefully someday I’ll be able to frame a snapshot of myself standing in the Pilgrim’s Way, on the shore of that flat, lovely island with Lindisfarne Castle in the distance.

on to the next

“Let there be no reason now for any American to fail to cherish their citizenship in this, the greatest nation on Earth...Tonight, I remain her servant…And I call on all Americans, as I have often in this campaign, to not despair of our present difficulties, but to believe, always, in the promise and greatness of America, because nothing is inevitable here. Americans never quit. We never surrender. We never hide from history. We make history.” – Senator John McCain

“And we know the government can’t solve every problem…It can’t happen without you, without a new spirit of service, a new spirit of sacrifice…So let us summon a new spirit of patriotism, of responsibility, where each of us resolves to pitch in and work harder and look after not only ourselves, but each other…In this country, we rise and fall as one nation, as one people…Let us remember that is was a man from this state who first carried the banner of the Republican party to the White House, a party founded on the values of self-reliance and individual liberty and national unity…As Lincoln said to a nation far more divided than ours, we are not enemies but friends. Though passion may have strained, it must not break our bonds of affection.” – President-Elect Barack Obama

“There are two great lies that I have heard / The day you eat of the fruit of that tree you will not surely die / And that Jesus Christ is a white, middle class Republican / And if you wanna be saved you have to learn to be like him…So my first allegiance is not to a flag, a country or a man / My first allegiance is not to democracy or blood / It’s to a King and a kingdom…Oh nothing unifies like a common enemy / And we’ve got one, sure as Hell / He may be living in your house / He may be raising up your kids / He may be sleeping with your wife / Oh he may not look like you think.” – Derek Webb, “A King and a Kingdom”

“If my people, who are called by my name, will humble themselves and seek my face and turn from their wicked ways, then I will hear from heaven and will forgive their sin and will heal their land.” - 2 Chronicles 7:14

“For by him all things were created: things in heaven and on earth, visible and invisible, whether thrones or powers or rulers or authorities; all things were created by him and for him.  He is before all things, and in him all things hold together.” - Colossians 1:16

“He is he.”

My friend, Darby, is a great writer.  Read this post from her blog about her son.  If you have one, you’ll probably chuckle and nod.

gimme a break

It’s a rare November day.  About 70 degrees, a sky as blue as it gets, all shades of leaves represented in the skyline.  Liam’s settling in for his nap, Reese and Michael went to go see a movie, and here I am.  I was reading The Great Gatsby (I am supposed to be reading another book, but I’m bent, bound and determined to finish this one first), listening to the restless traffic on Center Street, and enjoying this restful Sabbath. 

And then, She-Who-Volunteers-For-A-Presidential-Campaign appeared.  Roaring up to my curb in her newish navy-blue Audi wagon, she stared into my front window for several minutes before getting out and knocking on my door several times.  No way – not on Sunday, lady.  Call me old-fashioned, but come on – a girl can only take so much propaganda.  She finally left.  I grabbed the fistful of paper she left in my door, and threw it away.  Back to Gatsby.  I can’t wait til November 5th – I’ll probably be disappointed by the election results, but oh well.  I’ve made it thus far.  And I’ll get a three year break ’til we do it all over again.  I’ll just breathe deeply these next two days.

To cleanse my political palate, here’s a quote from a collection of essays I love to read this time of year – Cold Snap as Yearning, by Robert Vivian:

“I am a temporary voyeur of the moving earth, rolling over it a few times a week, wondering each time at the subtle mysteries of where the land meets the sky, how they meet in changing juxtaposition, and how these work their wonder in fields.  Then, sometimes, if I am lucky, I can get the whole feel of it, and I am sucker-punched by grandeur, by my mote-like presence in a world that is meant to knock me to my knees.  It has become the difference between hearing and listening, singing and saying, watching and seeing.  Its the hereafter in fields, waiting at the edge of every city and small town, beckoning you to lose yourself in contemplation of the land and sky and your brief sojourn between them, joined by the speed of memory.” (“Hereafter in Fields”)

And now, back to Nick, Jordan and the Roaring Twenties.  I suppose I should have quoted Gatsby, since I mentioned I was reading it, but I really don’t want to right now.