Her wide arms
reach and summon.
I feel the lure even
from a mile away.
I met her, the giant
Grandmother oak
centered on an island
in the Jackson Park lagoon.
In those days,
I wore rubber gloves and a mask,
sanitized the handlebars.
When air frightened me
I met her, the giant.
Immediately I loved her.
Immediately I knew
solace and joy under
her big branches,
branches like my grandma’s
large, loving arms.
I found a home and wondered:
Can I fall in love with a tree?
Some days I am
not sure what love is.
I assume it’s relational
sacrifice, but maybe
it’s simply attention.
I don’t doubt that I love her.
So then why have I ignored
her whispered invitations
between Zoom meetings
and typing emails?
While folding laundry or washing dishes,
I often wonder how she’s doing.
I wonder about the size of her leaves,
her current color of green.
I am preoccupied
and full of excuses.
I am way too slow
and not so good
at loving my neighbor.
I am way too slow
at doing what’s good for me
and following my heart.
Without gloves, masks and sanitizer,
over a year after I met her,
I find myself under her branches.
Held by giant arms,
I feel my heartbeat.
I am discovering that
I'm still alive,
I still do love,
and she still does reach.
Grandmother oak in Jackson Park. photo by Julia Walsh, FSPA.
Years ago, at a family gathering with cousins and aunts and uncles rubbing shoulders and shaking hands, I uttered words for which I was shamed and even scolded. We were in the hills of Iowa at my uncle’s pig farm. He was the eldest uncle. His children were at least a decade older than me,…
Black falls off my fingers. A dark coat of Truth covers me, my hands, all dirty. I am Too messy for this: the sacred Marking of penitents processing. Skin rubs skin, black in between Ash smeared upon holy, oily faces. The stream keeps moving. I am like a rock slowing the flow with redirecting, grounding. I proclaim:…
this is the space of chrysalis– of break-downs & becoming something something better something more true (we hope, we imagine) this is the crazy time (some say) this is what they warned us about: “remember, you are more prone to accidents and illness. remember to breathe.” no maps are available no one has been here…
In episode ten, Sister Julia speaks with Ellen Walsh-Rosmann, a farmer, a Food Service director in a rural school district, and an owner of food hub and a farm-to-table restaurant. They discussed the systemic challenges of feeding the hungry during the COVID19 pandemic and how the ordinary person can eat in a way that helps builds justice and cares for creation.
“I think what I’ve learned is there’s great fruitfulness in messiness…you need dirt to grow things.”– Heidi Haverkamp Season 4, Episode 1 of Messy Jesus Business, hosted by Sister Julia Walsh. IN THIS EPISODE: In this episode of Messy Jesus Business, Sister Julia Walsh talks with writer and Episcopal priest Heidi Haverkamp about why being…
We’ve reached something of the zenith of the spooky or supernatural time of year that is mid-autumn. We’ve celebrated the feast of St. Michael, Halloween has come and gone, and now we’re headed to the feast of Christ the King of the Universe. In the midst of all of this, we pause for two days…
