Amy Boucher Pye

Category: Christian life

  • Gleanings from America

    The start of our local parade with the Stars and Stripes. Very moving.
    The start of our local parade with the Stars and Stripes. Very moving.

    Just back to the UK from my annual fortnight (US: two weeks) in America, visiting family. As CutiePyeGirl says, seeing grandparents and family only once or twice a year is not enough. I agree.

    As I reflect on my time there, I offer a few observations.

    Healthcare costs have skyrocketed.

    People seem to be increasingly affected by health-care costs, whether in monthly insurance payments, co-payments, or deductibles. I’ve heard stories of someone having a heart attack but not calling an ambulance to save the $200 fee, for instance, or going to a clinic instead of the ER (UK: A&E) because it’s cheaper. The NHS is by no means perfect, but the care we’ve received (especially for PyelotBoy) has been reliable and thorough – and free at the point of use (but of course the bill is footed by high taxes).

    Memorabilia from the Kellogg all-class reunion I attended while in Minnesota. Go Chargers!
    Memorabilia from the Kellogg all-class reunion I attended while in Minnesota. Go Chargers!

    Pope Francis rocks.

    I’ve been impressed by the new head of the Catholic church, and my heart was “strangely warmed,” to employ a Methodist saying, when I saw him in the flesh at St. Peter’s Square with my parents and family. I attended my parents’ Catholic church when Stateside and appreciated the influence he’s already having at the local level.

    Land of 10,00 lakes. More shoreline (90,000 miles) than California, Florida, and Hawaii combined.
    Land of 10,00 lakes. More shoreline (90,000 miles) than California, Florida, and Hawaii combined.

    Minnesotans are nice.

    Okay, so not all Minnesotans are nice every moment of every day, but on the whole, nice they are. I had to readjust my social interactions, remembering, for instance, that while out on a walk around the lake, one does actually acknowledge the person walking toward you. Waiters are nice; department store clerks are (usually) nice; of course friends and family are nice. Leading me to…

    Learning to cast.
    Learning to cast.

     

    Relationships are the best.

    CutiePyeGirl feels the separation from her US family deeply (well, we all do, but she shows it most tangibly). Each night since returning home, she’s been tearful and almost inconsolable about being separated from grandparents, cousins and aunts and uncles. I conveyed to her what a lovely Englishwoman, who lives in America and has a daughter in England and a son in Hong Kong, said to me before I got married, that now I’d have one foot on each side of the Atlantic. Loving deeply means we grieve deeply when separated, but closing ourselves to grief means closing ourselves to love.

     

    Some of the Fantabulous Friends.
    Some of the Fantabulous Friends.

    I didn’t get to see as many friends as I would have liked to see, but I got to reconnect with my “Fantabulous Friends Forever,” those women with whom I went to high school and whom I’ve stayed close to for so many years. We’ve experienced heartbreak, sorrow, and drama along with experiencing joy, but our friendships have stayed strong through the seasons.

    After all, what matters more than people (and the word of God)?

    Sunset over Mille Lacs Lake.
    Sunset over Mille Lacs Lake.

  • I Stole the Bride

    When, some years ago, one of my former roommates got married, I went on honeymoon with the newly married couple. And, being directionally challenged, got the bride lost.

    A group of friends met at Liz and Ed’s wedding. As so many of us were from out of town, the newlyweds invited us to join them for a couple of days of their honeymoon. Although they were keen to start their new life together, they wanted to enjoy their friends after the frenetic lead-up to the wedding.

    Photo credit: JD Thomas, Creative Commons
    Photo credit: JD Thomas, Creative Commons

    And so a bunch of us decided to head over to the condo they were renting in the mountains for a few days of skiing and relaxing in the hot tub. Ed graciously let Liz come in my car, so we could have some girl-time together, and said I could follow him. Liz and I were chatting and talking through who danced with whom at the wedding when we slowed down at a stop sign. The sun was in my eyes but I saw Ed’s blue car turn right and take off quickly. I put my foot on the pedal, wondering why he was going so fast.

    We followed the blue car for over an hour, me wondering silently why Ed was making it so hard for me to keep up with him. Finally I asked Liz why she thought he was going so fast. She couldn’t figure it out either.

    I sped up, trying to close the gap between the cars.

    Liz said, “Amy! That’s not Ed’s car!”

    My stomach dropped and I wondered what I had gotten us into. “Oh man. I knew I was bad with directions, but I never thought I’d follow the wrong car!”

    We slowed down and stopped in Cripple Creek, finding a restaurant with a pay phone to try to let him know where we were – this was way before mobile phones were invented. I felt so bad that I kept saying sorry, until I realized that my profuse apologies were probably beginning to annoy Liz.

    After making some phone calls to tell friends whom Ed might call, we figured out where we where and realized I had driven us completely in the wrong direction. We now had to backtrack the sixty miles, plus drive the next hundred miles we always had in front of us. But at least now Ed would know that I hadn’t intentionally stolen his bride.

    When we finally met up with Ed and the other friends, I was exhausted and burst into tears. After calming down, we all were able to laugh about the incident and my stupidity. For in a moment of blindness, I followed the wrong car and got seriously off-track.

    The spiritual lessons are clear.

  • Swapping Houses

    DSCN7187
    There’s so much to see in Minneapolis.

    Last year right about now, I was frantically getting the vicarage ready for a house swap. The four of us were headed to Minnesota, to the land of my people – yes, where “all the women are strong, all the men are good looking, and all the children are above average” in Garrison Keillor’s memorable words. A British family, who have settled in Minnesota, were coming here to London, and we were taking over their home, which is (amazingly) only a couple of miles from my parents’ house.

    Entering someone else’s setting for a week or two can feel surreal. The friend whom I swapped with and I chatted back and forth on a social-media site during the early days, comparing US versus UK ways of doing things, and both of us, I think, having a sense of, “This could be my life.” In fact, I so hadn’t emotionally disengaged from life in London that at first it felt difficult to stop the conversation. Then one morning I realized in prayer that I needed to be present where I was – and why wouldn’t I want to be? I had longed for this space to see family and friends again, and to experience the joys of things like amazing plumbing and Target. And I needed to bless my friend and let her get on with her time in the UK.

    The kids loved so much about living in someone else’s home for two weeks. CutiePyeGirl was thrilled that they had two girls; PyelotBoy not fussed, understandably. One of the kids’ favorite things each day was running across the (not busy) street to get the mail out of the mailbox. A novelty, to be sure.

    Can you imagine what your life might look like if you changed places with someone living a similar sort of life (similar job; similar ministry), but in a different country? Not an exercise to get hung up on, for the reminder to me is to give thanks for the life I do have. Especially as today in London the sun is shining.

  • Identity: At home in your skin?

    A line in a novel recently jumped off the page: “The people were pleasant enough, but Beth had felt judged in a thousand subtle ways, simply for wanting to be herself” (in Forbidden by Claire Wright with GP Taylor).

    Have you ever felt like that? Like you’re just that bit different than the “in” crowd? Or when you walk into a crowded room boasting a lot of unknown faces, you wonder whether you’ll be accepted or whom you’ll talk to?

    VaseI have. But then I’m an introvert, and I haven’t always felt at home in my skin. I’ll probably always have to take a deep breath before entering new social or work situations. If I let the fear of the unknown get to me, I could easily descend into the muck of feeling like I’m the sad loner without friends. So, if I remember, I affirm a few truths with a simple breathing exercise. As I inhale deeply, I tell myself that I’ve been made in the image of God, and that through his Holy Spirit he dwells inside me. Then as I exhale, I shoot up an arrow prayer that God would lead me to just the right people to talk with – perhaps those who might be feeling on the edge of things themselves.

    That simple exercise reorients me, and I feel like I’ve put on a pair of God-infused glasses. All of the sudden I can see others as God’s amazing creations and I want to know more about them: what makes them tick; what they’re passionate about; how they find meaning. As the evening progresses, my smile grows and I may hear some astounding stories. All from stepping away from fear and stepping into the woman God created me to be.

    Of course, we live in an imperfect world, and sometimes the evening ends with me wondering why I didn’t have many God-encounters. Or why I still felt self-conscious, like I am watching myself from the outside. Or in the words of Forbidden, that novel I mentioned, “People just didn’t ‘get’ her. Rich hadn’t understood that part, but of course, he wouldn’t. His face already fitted.”

    If I take the time to reflect, I again realize that I have to root my identity in being God’s beloved. He has formed me as a beautiful crystal vase that reflects his light and glory. If I’m not receiving his love and affirmation, I might let the water inside the vase get stagnant or grey. But when I ask him to pour in his living water, he displaces all that is dirty and mucky. And in that vase he even places some gorgeous flowers from which waft his sweet fragrance.

    Do you feel at home in your skin? Why or why not? If not, what do you do to combat these feelings?

  • A mixed approach to hospitality

    We’re in a season of hospitality. When people ask us if they can come and stay, we say “Yes” as much as we can. Our vicarage is massive – and not technically ours – so we like to share this oasis in north London. Yes, in the winter it’s cold and the hot water runs out quickly, but we have the space to give our guests their own room, complete with sink and treadmill.

    300px-Angelsatmamre-trinity-rublev-1410Just yesterday, a friend said to me, “I don’t know how you do it.” But how do we do anything, really? We say yes, not knowing what challenges or joys may face us. We press through, perhaps with some groaning and complaining. We might even gossip, and then have to draw a line under the murmuring. We may offer hospitality with mixed motives or unclean hearts. Whenever do we offer God a completely pure offering? But he delights to receive our gifts.

    This morning I looked at an upcoming Bible reading notes assignment: Genesis 18:1-15. Unlike my husband, I don’t have one of those brains that retains info – so it was only when I turned to the text that I said, “Ah, Abraham and the angels!” How delightful to write some devotionals on this text, in which Abraham welcomes three visitors, eagerly choosing a choice goat for their meal and asking Sarah to find the best flour for the bread. Many theologians believe the three men are angels who represent God the Father, God the Son, and God the Holy Spirit.

    During this visit, one of the men says that Sarah will give birth to a son. So unlikely that statement seems to her that she laughs (behind the man’s back, which she later denies). I’m not saying that they are given a son because they are hospitable and welcoming, but I find it interesting that this aged couple receive the promise of their heart’s desire when they open their hearts and lives, hosting strangers. And though Sarah isn’t the perfect host – laughing behind her guests back, after all – yet the guest blesses her.

    How might you open your heart and home today?

    Note 1: This passage inspired Andrei Rublev to paint his Holy Trinity icon around 1410. That’s another blog post or two – so many rich levels of meaning we find in a simple two-dimensional visual image.

    Note 2: Check out the riches on the topic of hospitality at Godspace.

  • Welcoming angels unaware

    Will you open your home and heart?

    Hospitality is one of those sometimes messy Christian practices. When we welcome people into our lives, the smells from bodily functions might hang around in the air. Muddy footprints might mar our floors. We might drop our masks, revealing times of irritation or stress.

    Original watercolor by Leo Boucher.
    Original watercolor by Leo Boucher.

    But we’re saying come, we welcome you. We want to provide you a haven of rest; a place to close the room to your door when you need to; a space to converse and share.

    My husband and I are not perfect hosts by any means, but throughout our ten years in our vicarage, we’ve tried to be open and say yes when asked. It’s only in the last year or so that we have not had either a family member or an au pair living with us; that was a particular season of sharing and molding and learning. This summer seems a unique time of welcoming traveling Americans – every weekend, a new set, each with their own gifts and riches.

    A few practical tips:

    • Create a guide to your house. I got this idea from a throwaway line in Packing Light, a wonderful memoir about a woman who travels around the 50 states. In our guide we tell our guests about things like the wonky shower curtain (yes, it will fall on you if you’re not careful) and give them the wifi code. This also can be a repository of tourist information (especially if you live in a world-class city like London).
    • Have in mind a few go-to meals. Our crock pot (slow cooker) has transformed our cooking, helping us to make easy and healthy meals. Cooking a whole chicken, for example, is now painless.
    • Treasure your guest book. Our only requirement when people come to stay with us is that they sign our guest book. We love looking back over the entries, which evoke memories of the gourmet meal cooked for us by one or the Pimms we shared with another.
    • Remember that they’ve come to see you (or your city), and that your house doesn’t have to be perfect. Having been raised in a very tidy home, I find this a struggle. But the visitors this summer will see by our various clutter-spots my “progress” in being able to welcome people even when there is some mess.

    What tips would you add?

    Washing machines at the ready, here we go!

  • Yes, says the Lord

    Photo: *_Abhi_* on flickr
    Photo: *_Abhi_* on flickr

    In Christ, the answer is “Yes.” I was chewing over 2 Corinthians 1:1–11 recently, thinking about how God wants us to know this Divine Affirmation. Yes, he says. Yes. Yes!

    Do you believe in Christ’s Yes for you?

    God our Father
    God of compassion
    God of comfort
    God of love
     
    Troubles and pressure
    Despaired we of life
    Deadly peril over us
    The sentence of death
     
    But God the deliverer
    In whom we rely
    In him our hope
    Deliverance continued
     
    Helped by prayers
    The communion of saints
    Thanks we return
    Favor granted
     
    For God is faithful
    No mixed messages
    In Jesus it’s Yes
    Promises kept
     
    No limit to promises
    In Christ all Yes
    Through him, Amen
    God be glorified
     
    Standing firm in Christ
    Anointed are we
    His ownership seal
    Set by God
     
    And in our hearts
    His Spirit a deposit
    Guaranteeing
    What is to come
     
    On 2 Corinthians 1:1-11
    © 2014 by Amy Boucher Pye

  • D-Day, 70 years on

     

    The memorial on Omaha Beach.
    The memorial on Omaha Beach.

    We sat enjoying our picnic on the beach, soaking in the French sunshine and watching our little boy play in the sand. Nicholas turned to me and said, “You know, it’s probably because of your ancestors fighting right here that those schoolchildren are free. And speaking French today.”

    “Wow,” I said, the implications sinking in more deeply.

    OLYMPUS DIGITAL CAMERAIt was the earlyish 2000s and we were at Omaha Beach, enjoying the outdoors after exploring the museum with its slightly dusty artifacts and big fighting machines. I find these outing to military museums important but draining, not only for all the information to be read and digested, but for the bigger issues of loss of life, fighting, and just plain old evil. But sitting on the beach, thinking about my Uncle Donny who fought in WW2, I simply gave thanks.

    Thank you, veterans, for risking or giving your lives that we might be free.

  • The Lord is my…

    What’s the Lord to you? Your Shepherd? Director? Boss? Father? Friend?

    Photo: Suzy Bower, flickr
    Photo: Suzy Bower, flickr

    Recently, when reaching the end of a retreat, I led a group of women in an exercise of engaging with Psalm 23. We talked through this beloved psalm of David, imaginatively placing ourselves in it, and asking such questions as: Is the Lord my shepherd? Do I graze with the flock? Does he lead me beside quiet waters? Can I fear no evil? Do I feast with the Lord? Do I live in God’s house? (I recommend giving this a try – you might be surprised by how God speaks to you through these familiar words.)

    Our exercise was to personalize Psalm 23. I read them my version from a writer’s point of view, but delighted in their creativity when, at the end of the exercise, they read me theirs. With permission, I reproduce two here:

     
    The Lord is my strength, I lack nothing
    He makes me lie down in green pastures
    He leads me beside quiet waters He strengthens me
    He guides my feet along the right path for His name sake
    Even when I go through difficult and trying times He strengthens me
    I WILL NOT FEAR FOR YOU ARE WITH ME YOUR PRESENCE AND PROMISES COMFORT ME
    You prepare a table before me in my times of doubt and fear
    You anoint my head with oil and my cup overflows
    Surely your goodness and love will follow me all the days of my life
    I will dwell in the house of the Lord forever

     

    The Lord is my closest Friend. 
    He knows everything about me.
    He draws me to a quiet place and refreshes me.
    He brings everything back into perspective and renews me.
    Even when I go through the storms of life He is right there beside me.
    He rescues me from evil, heals, comforts and restores me.
    He prepares a banquet before me in the presence of all my enemies.
    He anoints me with His precious Spirit and my cup overflows.
    Surely blessings and love will be with me all the days of my life and I will dwell in the Lord’s house forever.
     

    Why not, this weekend, take some time and write your own?

  • “Is that you, Lord?” A lesson in hearing God

    Hearing God, I’m learning, is about heeding the nudges. Acting on those little prompts that pop into my mind, which I’m never completely sure are “just me” or are quite possibly the Lord. That sounds cheeky in and of itself, doesn’t it – I heard GOD. But that is the amazing mystery of the Lord on high communicating with his created ones.

    Baby listenerRecently a fragment of a verse from Scripture made itself known to me, and I knew immediately that I should share it with a particular friend. The timing wasn’t convenient – it was after dinner, bath time for the kids, in the rush before the Vicar went to his church meeting. But in that moment I sensed that I should follow the nudge.

    The phrase that flitted through my mind was, “I lift mine eyes to the hills; from whence does my help come? My help comes from the Lord, the Maker of heaven and earth.” Not being one of those people who can tell you chapter and verse when it comes to the Bible (and yes, the Vicar does have this uncanny ability), I didn’t know where it came from but guessed one of the Psalms. I looked it up online, and loved reading the whole chapter – Psalm 121 – as it continues in a wonderful vein, about how the Lord will not let our foot slip, and how he never slumbers or sleeps.

    I texted my friend and she texted me back, saying my timing was perfect and sharing some other wonderful “coincidences” about her life, her children, and God, including: “How special peace feels…”

    The Lord graciously used me to bring her comfort and the assurance of his love, but he’s not stingy with his blessings. I received by acting on that little nudge – not only receiving the love of my friend, but gaining confidence that in this instance the nudge was divinely inspired. I’ve been on this journey of hearing God for two decades now, and I certainly wouldn’t call myself an expert – I need these grace-filled experiences that teach me to open my ears and heart and obey.

    The Lord – amazingly – uses his children for the meeting of his people’s needs. We are his hands and his feet to bring his love to his people.

    How about you? Have you acted on those little nudges? If so, what happened?