God’s other book: Fall colors

Fall has to be my favorite season, with Mother Nature putting on her annual fireworks display. Or, as I like to say, God’s eye candy.

Here are some of my favorite photos, which I’ve snapped over the past several fall seasons.

The view from my kitchen window in the late afternoon for much of the fall season.

The trees in our neighborhood compete with each other for sheer outrageousness.

Love the flowers that hang in there and still bloom, even after the first frost, or look like dried flowers in a flower arrangement.

Roses actually seem to bloom prettier with a chill in the air. These can be found in the rose garden behind our church.

Here’s the street that runs past our house.

Each street presents its own fireworks display.

And we have an amazing park a few blocks away.

With temperatures in the 60s and 70s into mid November this year, except for a cold spell that lasted a couple days earlier this week, there’s no reason not to get out from behind my computer, go for a walk, gawk at God’s handiwork and engage in some serious nature prayer.

Our amazing universe

They say a picture is worth 1,000 words. So, a couple weeks ago, I posted a photo essay about one way I address those pesky doubts about God’s existence that creep up from time to time: Step outside and immerse myself in nature. (Link HERE.)

A viral video making the rounds on Facebook a few years ago further reinforces – for me, at least – the idea that there has to be a God.

The video, “Cosmic Eye,” was created by Dr. Danail Obreschkow, an astrophysicist at the University of Western Australia. It has to be one of my all-time YouTube favorites.

At the beginning of the video, the camera focuses on a young smiling woman named Louise. The camera pans out to include her immediate surroundings. Then the city she is in. Then the western part of the United States, Planet Earth, our solar system, our Milky Way galaxy, other galaxies and finally the universe (part of it, anyway).

The camera returns to the woman, focusing in on one of her eyes. From there it zooms in on the pupil. Then a blood vessel inside the eye, a blood cell, a DNA strand, an atom, the protons and neutrons that make up the atom’s nucleus, and finally, quarks.

From the macro (galaxies, endless galaxies) to the micro (human cells, atoms, quarks) we see a panorama of an amazing universe.

I invite you to watch the video (click HERE or click on the thumbnail below), then ask, “Could all this have really happened by chance?”

Evidence of God

Over the years, I’ve learned a fairly fool-proof way to address those pesky doubts about God’s existence that creep up from time to time: Step outside and immerse myself in nature. 

Nature’s majesty continually reminds me there is an ultimate Creator. As I’ve said numerous times, I find it almost impossible to deny God’s existence when I’m outdoors with the evidence all around me. 

Sometimes I find evidence of God in the spectacular.

An amazing sunset.

Brilliant fall colors.

Blooming trees.

Showy flowers.

A bare tree against a pure blue sky.

Beautiful horses against a backdrop of North Carolina mountains.

Sometimes I find the best evidence of God in my own backyard.

Squirrels helping themselves to some birdseed. (Who decreed it’s just for birds??)

A bird couple tending their nest in early spring.

A cute little chipmunk enjoying some spring flowers. (This chipmunk thinks enjoying flowers means eating them rather than looking at them. LOL.)

Our resident hawk. (Small mammals may not be so glad to see this guy, but Pete and I think he’s magnificent!) 

Sometimes I find evidence of God in the small but exquisite things.

A perfect rose.

A single brilliant leaf that has fallen to the ground.

Our awesome pollinators busily doing God’s work of helping produce food for the world.

I don’t know about anyone else, but I love my dandelions.

Sometimes I find evidence of God in the unexpected.

A brilliant flash of red in the midst of a bleak midwinter backyard scene.

The first crocuses of spring.

A weed that’s actually pretty.

A very friendly goose at our local park.

A photobombing cat overlooking the city of Jerusalem.

The Bible offers a solid basis for finding evidence of God in nature.

In Romans 1:20, we read, “For since the creation of the world God’s invisible qualities—his eternal power and divine nature—have been clearly seen, being understood from what has been made, so that people are without excuse.”

Job 12:7-9 suggests we can learn about God from nature: “But ask the animals, and they will teach you, the birds of the air, and they will tell you; ask the plants of the earth, and they will teach you, and the fish of the sea will declare to you. Who among all these does not know that the hand of the Lord has done this?”

And Genesis 1:25 reminds us that it is all good: “God made the wild animals according to their kinds, the livestock according to their kinds, and all the creatures that move along the ground according to their kinds. And God saw that it was good.”

A prayer of Thanksgiving for a beautiful little Queen

Dear God:

Today, Pete and I are stunned, devastated and heartbroken. We’ve lost our sweet, cuddly, delightfully ornery and lovable little Queen Elizabeth.

We knew, when we adopted her from the Animal Protective League, that she had health issues. She was 10 years old and walked with a decided limp, which our vet believed stemmed from a possible too-close encounter with a car while she was roaming the streets after being abandoned by the people with whom she previously lived.

But I fell in love with Elizabeth the minute I laid eyes on her at the Cat’s Pyjamas, a cat cafe in our community whose owners worked with the APL She was a gorgeous little “tortico” (a combination of calico and tortoiseshell) with long silky fur and amazing coloring. Even her chin, paws and little toe pads had the tricolor calico markings.

She had an irrepressible personality to match her incredible beauty. The adorable Queen Liz knew how to be the center of attention. Here she was, standing on top of a pile of Christmas gifts under the tree at the cat cafe.

And here she was on TV, hamming it up for the camera while the anchor of our local TV news station interviewed the cat cafe’s owner.

As soon as we brought her home just before Christmas last year, Lizzie spent the first several minutes sniffing every square inch of the house before making herself right at home on our bed. She was affectionate and engaging and utterly charming from the start.

Within a half hour of arrival at her new home, our little Lizzie Beth was already rolling over and playing cute for us, and we knew this little girl was going to be quite a character! She loved to hop up on the kitchen table and beg for food, and I called her “my shadow” because she followed me everywhere I went.

She fit very nicely into laps. Here she was, sitting on Pete’s lap. She also liked to join me for morning meditation in front of the fireplace. As soon as I settled in my recliner, she would clamor for a spot on my lap. After I petted her for a couple of minutes and gave her a treat, she would sit on top of a cat condo next to my chair while I journaled.

She liked to snooze in this cat tree next to my desk in the office. She soon learned how to commandeer the top of my high-back swivel chair, where she would sit just behind my head whenever I engaged in a church committee meeting via Zoom.

While still at the Cat’s Pyjamas, she already had a talent for finding makeshift cat beds. Here she was snoozing atop a pile of shirts that were part of a merch display at the cafe.

At home, she created cat beds everywhere. She especially loved pillows, which made a suitable throne for a queen, I’d say.

She absolutely loved curling up in bed with us. She was a sweet little cuddler, and if she got petted by both Pete and me at the same time, one could hear her purring a mile away.

But she liked sleeping on us even more. Sometimes, if I went to sleep while lying on my back, I’d wake up to find her sleeping on my stomach. I’d tell her I needed to roll over, and as soon as I did, she’d climb back up and park herself on my hip.

Her irrepressible personality earned her a number of nicknames: Ms. Liz, Little Girl, Baby Girl, Lizzie Beth, the Queen. My camera just loved this sweet adorably ornery little girl. Doesn’t she look like the Queen of all she surveys?

I loved feasting my eyes on her beauty and telling her how gorgeous she was. And I’m so grateful I got one last opportunity to do this while cuddling with her just before getting up yesterday morning. Because it was less than an hour later that – suddenly, without warning – she would begin crying out in obvious distress and I would be rushing her to the emergency vet.

As I said earlier, I knew when we adopted her that she was a “senior” cat with health issues, and this meant we would most likely have her with us for a shorter time than we got to have with our other kitties.

What we didn’t know – and even the vet who recently gave her a wellness check didn’t know – was that she had an underlying heart condition. The condition that would claim her life just months after we brought her home.

Despite all that, I’m glad we adopted her. I know some folks shy away from adopting an older pet, especially one with “special needs.” But I would do it again in a heartbeat. Our little “senior” brought us so much joy!

So thank-you, God, for our precious Lizzie Beth. I firmly believe animals are one of your greatest gifts to us, and I thank you for the time we got to spend with this adorable little powder puff, even though our time with her was sadly brief.

And thank-you, Queen Elizabeth, for blessing our lives. Rest in peace, Little Girl. I will always love you to pieces, and I am SO, SO glad we brought you into our home, even though you stayed for such a short time.

With love and gratitude,

God’s other book: Pastel hallelujah

Thanks be to God for blooming trees!

This time of year, our trees are loaded with blossoms and the whole yard, front and back, is awash in lovely spring colors — as if singing a pastel hallelujah.

The trees pictured here, from top to bottom, are crabapple, black cherry, pink and white dogwood, pear, redbud, and a small tree we call “the clubhouse” because dozens of little brown birds gather in its branches for their own choir practice.

Meet our newest family members

Two furry little friends joined our household shortly before Christmas, and they certainly have made life interesting around here as they bless us with their unique personalities.

We first met Bryce and Elizabeth at The Cat’s Pyjamas, a new “cat cafe” in our community that we were visiting regularly in an attempt to soothe our broken hearts after losing our beloved Champie.

For those who have never been to one, a cat cafe is a coffee shop where people can interact with cats who are available for adoption. The Cat’s Pyjamas works closely with the Animal Protective League, a nonprofit no-kill animal rescue and adoption organization.

At the cafe, I immediately fell in love with Elizabeth, a gorgeous 10-year-old “tortico” (a combination calico and tortoiseshell). This adorable creature knew how to be the center of attention. We’ve decided her full name should be Queen Elizabeth III.

Here’s Bryce posing for the camera on one of the cat trees at the cafe. This cutie was quite a bit more shy than Elizabeth, but he did allow me to pet him and tickle his tummy on one of our visits. Staff told us the reason for his shyness around humans was that he had been rescued from a hoarding situation where he was often bullied by other cats.

As soon as we got our kitties home, Elizabeth spent the first several minutes sniffing every square inch of the house before making herself right at home on our bed. She has been affectionate and engaging and utterly irrepressible from the start.

Within a half hour of arrival at her new home, Lizzie was already rolling over and playing cute for us, and we knew this little girl was going to be quite a character! She loves to hop up on the kitchen table and beg for food, or sit on the back of my chair while I’m at my computer. She also joins me for morning meditation in front of the fireplace.

Alas, for the first several weeks, our little Bryce seemed most comfortable when he was hiding. He disappeared into a pile of boxes in Pete’s office and would not come out as long as either one of us was in the room. We took to calling him Sir Bryce of Boxington Manor and were advised by friends that we should let him get to know us at his own pace.

Elizabeth has fully made our house her own, except for Pete’s office, which we’ve decided is Bryce’s territory. Lizzie is obviously convinced our bed belongs to her, but thankfully she shares it with us.

Pete’s tummy, and mine, make perfect cat beds. At least Lizzie thinks so.

After several weeks of attempts on our part to coax little Brycie out of hiding, the co-owner of the Cat’s Pyjamas — who had managed to gain our kitty’s trust while he was living at the cafe — came out to our house and captured the little guy. He placed Bryce on each of our laps so we could finally hold him and pet him. This seems to have prompted a breakthrough.

Brycie has finally begun to get a little more bold. While he continues to stay in Pete’s office, he now comes out of hiding long enough to eat, use his litter box and play with his toys while Pete and I are in the room. I was able to snap this photo of him cuddling up with Pete a couple of weeks ago. What a sweet sight! I hope to see more of this soon and get my own chance to cuddle him.

I consider this photo of Brycie — stretched out on the floor at the Cat Cafe — to be aspirational. Sir Bryce does look like a little lion, doesn’t he? Staff at the cafe said it took several weeks for him to feel comfortable with folks there. So we’re hoping that, with time, he will feel secure and brave enough to lounge in the middle of our living room floor as he learns to feel at home with us.

Meanwhile, Queen Elizabeth has made one of my pillows her throne. Or is this a scene from the Princess and the Pea?

The camera just loves this sweet adorably ornery little girl. Doesn’t she look like the Queen of all she surveys?

At any rate, our newest family members have been such a blessing! They’re both so beautiful and adorable. We thank God for them. And we thank the Cat’s Pyjamas and the Animal Protective League for bringing them into our lives.

God’s other book: Winter wonder

When the weather turns cold, I’m usually tempted to stay inside and hibernate. Alas, God creates such breathtaking beauty with snow (and even ice!) that I’ve been richly rewarded whenever I bring my camera and immerse myself in the great outdoors instead. Here are some of my favorite winter scenes that I’ve managed to capture over the years.

A prayer of thanksgiving for a beloved little friend

Dear God,

My husband Pete and I are heartbroken! Last night we had to say good-bye to our sweet, ornery and lovable Champaign Le Chat.

I firmly believe animals are one of your greatest gifts to us, God, and I thank you for every day of the nearly 17 years this furry little friend and constant companion graced our lives.

When we first encountered our sweet Champ, the very beautiful and very frightened little domestic longhair, with fur the color of champagne, was hiding under a chair at an Animal Protective League shelter.

My husband Pete and I were already planning to adopt Champie’s brother, Olaf DaVinci, who insisted on coming home with us. And I do mean insisted. Oley was crawling into both our laps and giving us persistent head-butts. When we told the shelter staff we wanted Oley, they told us, “He has a friend.”

They then introduced us to Champaign, who spent most of his time hiding under the above-mentioned chair to avoid being bullied by other cats. Little Champie trembled as I reached under the chair to pet him, but when I stroked his fur, he leaned into my hand, as if drinking in the affection. There was no way, however, that he planned to come out from his hiding place.

Champie and Oley had formed a tight bond at the shelter and the staff said it would be really nice if they could be adopted together. So home we went, with two long-haired tomcats. We never regretted that decision, despite a lot of shedding. That was in 2006, and they were inseparable right up until Oley’s passing two years ago.

We had reason to believe Champie had been abused in a previous home and it took time and lots of love to heal his fear of people. But, as we would discover, love wins. Every time.

For the first two weeks after we brought him home, Champ hid in the basement, only coming up to eat when Pete and I were gone. Fortunately, Oley cheerfully served as his guardian angel. The two liked to hang out together, and they loved to chase each other around the house while yowling loudly – especially at 3 a.m.

Slowly but surely, Champie finally came out of his shell. And when he did, he became quite the little character. Here he sat, on his throne, the king of all he surveyed.

There’s nothing like being ignored by a cat, but he let us know we’d better not ignore him! This little guy would actually hiss at us to let us know we needed to pet him. Sometimes in the morning when I was getting dressed, he would walk up to me, hiss at me, and then immediately hop up on the bed and rub up against me, clamoring for attention. Too funny!

He had a talent for finding the sunniest spots in the house. Here he was, rolling over and playing cute, as he basked in a shaft of light in the sunroom.

Le Champster made it known that a cat bed was whatever he decided it should be. (Cat beds purchased specifically for that purpose from Chewy? Boring!)

He loved to turn pillows into cat beds. This is one of my favorite photos – I like to call it “the Prince and the Pea.”

Speaking of cat beds, people clothes were the absolute best. He may have had the whole bed to snooze on here, but Pete’s clothes proved too irresistible.

In the early days, he often liked to station himself in my office as well, and did a superb job of monitoring me while I sat at my computer. Also, note where he’s sitting in relation to the sunny spot on the table.

Champaign was never a “lap cat,” even after deciding that Pete and I were safe. The few times I tried putting him on my lap, he scrambled back off as quickly as he could.

But he did enjoy snuggling next to Pete and me in the evenings, and we got to take turns cuddling him. The former little scaredy-cat loved the attention. It’s like he was making up for lost time.

One of his favorite snuggle-time activities was “helping” me read. He curled up next to me most nights while I was reading myself to sleep, and sometimes in the afternoon during nap time.

Our little Champie was such a source of comfort to Pete and I, as we walked through our harrowing medical journey in 2023, that we took to calling him our furry little comforter. He kept Pete company and rubbed noses with him as Pete was recuperating from his surgery and multiple hospital stays. He cuddled up with me on those lonely nights when Pete was in the hospital and I had to sleep alone at home.

Even at the ripe old age of 18, he continued to be his sweet, ornery, adorable little self.

The Bible in several places talks about animals on the other side of eternity – lions lying down with lambs, cows and bears grazing together and children safely playing with all of them. I just know that both Champie and Oley are there right now, clamoring for Jesus to pet them.

God, I will always be grateful for the wonderful gift you gave us when you blessed us with our beautiful little Champaign Le Chat. Today, just two days shy of Thanksgiving, as I try through my tears to count my blessings, I certainly count this magnificent little creature to be one of those blessings.

With love and gratitude,

A clarification and some definitions

Note: I first posted this article shortly after the 2020 U.S. presidential election. But with another election season in progress, I’d like to run it again with just a couple of small updates, because it still reflects my feelings about the polarization ripping apart our society.

When I express my desire to step back from the Culture Wars and find less-polarizing ways of addressing societal problems or controversies, I get a pair of common responses.

Some folks who identify as progressive will say sarcastically, “Oh, I see. You think we should all be NICE.” They practically spit out the word nice, then accuse me of wanting to look the other way in the face of injustice. Some who identify as conservative will suggest that what I really want is for everyone to simply ignore sinful behavior and “wink at sin.”

My first spiritual director – a wise woman who had a talent for posing questions most people don’t think to ask – challenged me with this question: “What, exactly, do you mean by Culture Wars?” And this one: “What would you consider to be polarizing behavior?” She made an important point. Those words may not mean the same thing to everyone who hears them.

So I’d like to clarify: When I speak of the Culture Wars and the resulting polarization in our society, I’m not talking about honest disagreements between people of good will who just happen to have differing ideas about the best way to resolve issues. I’m not saying we should look the other way in the face of injustice or cease discussing sin in sermons, Bible study sessions and religious education classes. I’m not suggesting we should retreat from the political arena, refrain from sharing our opinions about issues we feel strongly about, forsake our favorite causes or stop working to resolve problems such as poverty and hunger.

When I speak of the Culture Wars and the resulting polarization in our society, I am talking about the trolling, the name-calling, the insults, the character assassination, the demonizing and scapegoating, and the gratuitous rudeness that have become a mind-numbingly routine part of our daily conversations and social media interactions. I’m talking about activist groups doctoring videos and jerking quotes out of context to make ideological opponents look sinister, candidates for public office deliberately playing on fears and divisions to score political points and get votes, ordinary folks combing through comments on Facebook or X (formerly known as Twitter) looking for “gotcha” opportunities so they can pounce, and extremists phoning in death threats to people who say or do something they disagree with.

Dictionary.com defines Culture War as “a conflict or struggle for dominance between groups within a society, or between societies, arising from their differing beliefs and practices.” Wikipedia points out that “in American usage the term culture war may imply a conflict between those values considered traditionalist or conservative and those considered progressive or liberal.” Dictionary.com defines polarization as “a sharp division, as of a population or group, into opposing factions.” Urban Dictionary defines culture warrior as “a member of one of the two major political tribes who have come to dominate political discussion in the U.S. with their divisive, polarizing conflict.”

A key concept for me in these definitions is dominance. All too often, the competing factions in our Culture Wars aren’t so much concerned with actually resolving issues as they are with winning – at any cost – by humiliating and annihilating people perceived to be their opponents. These “opponents” are no longer simply misguided or mistaken, they are stupid, crazy or just plain evil.

When I express my desire to step back from the Culture Wars, I also get another common response. Some equally exhausted folks enthusiastically nod their heads and suggest I should turn off the TV, log off the Internet and disengage from the larger society. Some will argue that even talking about politics or hot-button social issues is poor etiquette. That getting involved in causes is the province of people afraid to look too closely at their personal problems. That marches, rallies and boycotts are inherently divisive. That civil discussion is a waste of time since most of us already have our minds made up. That special interests control our government to the point where voting is futile, so why bother?

I would respectfully disagree with the idea of simply “dropping out.” The Constitution guarantees our right to petition our government for the redress of grievances. Participating in the political process is not only a right, but one of our responsibilities as citizens. Supporting a good cause with our time or money beats sitting in front of our screens mindlessly doomscrolling on the Internet or using our social media posts for performative virtue signaling that substitutes for rolling up our sleeves. Too many problems need addressing for us to move in the direction of apathy and disconnection. We do need to stay engaged.

But could we please, please, please stop the vitriol? If we really want to change hearts and minds, we must stop the name-calling, the scapegoating and the demonizing. It’s one thing to write a politely-worded letter to an elected official. It’s another to send a profanity-laced screed containing death threats. It’s one thing to attend a candidate forum or town hall meeting and ask an intelligent question when it’s our turn to do so. It’s another to shout down a lawmaker or candidate who is trying to speak. It’s one thing to participate in a march or rally in which organizers have obtained all the proper permits. It’s another to vandalize property, set fire to a police station or bomb a clinic.  

Name-calling and other rude behavior stop genuine discussion and problem solving in their tracks. Lashing out gives others an excuse to ignore our concerns, discount us and dismiss our issues. For those of us who claim to be people of faith, spewing snarky insults gives people ammunition to call us hypocrites and declare they want nothing to do with either us or our religion. And violence only begets more violence.

In my own case, I actually have changed my mind now and then over the years, even on some fairly important issues. When I did so, it was because someone presented factual information in such a way that I could listen without becoming defensive. It also helped if the other person was willing to hear my side of the story, shared their personal experience of the issue in question, or showed me how I could come around to their way of thinking without sacrificing important values.

But I can promise I have never, EVER changed my mind about anything because someone called me names, insulted me or tried to convince me they were morally superior to me. All yelling and character assassination ever did for me was encourage me to dig in my heels or walk away. People of all political stripes have let me know I’m not alone in this regard.

In our current environment, we are so often presented with only two alternatives – be “in-your-face” reactionary or be apathetic. I’d like to see a third option. I’d like to see all of us eliminate the name-calling, the trolling and the flaming, and have a respectful discussion about serious issues. We need to replace our desire to be right and come out on top with a desire to solve problems. That way, instead of “our side” winning, perhaps we can all win.

Questions for readers: Have you found a constructive way to address pressing social issues without getting caught up in the vitriol that characterizes the Culture Wars? I’d love to hear your response to this question, as well as your comments on this article. Just hit “Leave a Reply” below. When responding, please keep in mind the guidelines I’ve outlined on my Rules of Engagement page (link HERE).

God’s other book: Morning meditation partners

One of my favorite rituals for more than a quarter century has been morning meditation. If nice weather beckons, I may stroll around my backyard. Or I may settle in my recliner in front of the fireplace with a cup of coffee or tea by my side while observing nature through our picture window. Either way, I’ve got plenty of morning meditation partners to inspire me, regardless of the season.