Between Now and Then (part 3)

Backward Down She Goes

Therefore, since we are justified by faith, we have peace with God through our Lord Jesus Christ, through whom we have obtained access to this grand in which we stand; and we boasts in our hope of sharing the glory of God. And not only that, be use also body in our sufferings, knowing that suffering produces endurance, and endurance produces character, and character produces hope, and hope does not disappoint us, because God’s love has been poured into our hearts through the Holy Spirit that ha been given to us.  

(Romans 5:1-5)

Today I set out to make homemade Kluski noodles. I could do a quick run to the store and buy a bag - it would make the day so easy. Sunday is a day I love to fix a meal for friends. It is always an experiment - a new dish - a twist or expansion of an old dish. Today it was going to be a old ethnic dish - cabbage, noodles, and Slovenian sausage. It is so simple. But then I was sent a YouTube video on how to make your own Kluski noodles. I was thinking of making small potato dumplings or drop dumplings.  The dish would have been a take off on the original one but at least I know how to do dumplings - not Kluski noodles. 

The recipe for the noodles is so simple: flour, eggs, salt, a few tablespoons of water. The woman in the video used her KitchenAid mixer with the dough hook. I didn’t want to take the time for all that. Plus, I have been having neck - back - and shoulder pain lately and a good workout while kneading the dough would do me some good. Dumb thought. The dough was not as pliable as dumpling dough. It was dry. It would not stick together well. It demanded full body weight and intense squeezing. I started regretting the idea of homemade Kluski noodles but there was no way I was going to throw the dough out and pick up packaged noodles. With flour on my hands and things not going as wanted them to go - I thought of Pauline. She was a master of making noodles - all kinds - all shapes - all sizes.

My first call as a pastor was to Truth Lutheran Church in Detroit, Michigan. I was to be the community pastor and my position was funded by the national church for three years. This meant I worked with the congregation and the neighborhood to find ways to bring a bit of hope and new life to a city already in decline. Pauline was a longtime member of the congregation and though she was one of older the senior members of the congregation - she was as active as anyone. When you entered the front doors of the church building - you met stairs. If you wanted to go to worship, you had at least fifteen steps to make it to the level of the sanctuary. If you were coming to an event in the basement you had to go up four stairs and then down fifteen or more to the basement. 

Pauline climbed those stairs regularly and slowly. If you caught her during her ascent, there would be a warm greeting and a smile. Her legs were so bowed from arthritis it was hard for me to see how she managed those stairs - let alone walk - but she did - swaying from side to side. Then the day came when I saw her going down the stairs from the sanctuary and then down the stairs to the basement. She held onto the handrail and went down backwards.  She wasn’t the only one. Several others did it. I was told it was the safest way for older folks with walking issues to go down stairs. If you stumbled - you simple stumbled upward without a major tumble. If you went down face first and stumbled - that could be the end of it all. Pauline and the others never wanted any help - they had it. 

On my first visit to Pauline house, she had baked goods and coffee ready. The conversation was light-hearted and she told me stories of her life. On the kitchen counter she had a cloth spread out and homemade noodles covered the cloth. These were long noodles cut like they had gone through a pasta machine - but these were hand-rolled and hand-cut. My grandmother made dumplings and noodles and my babysitter would also make homemade noodles so I was familiar with the workspace and the smell. 

After coffee and treats and good conversation she wanted to show me something she thought I would like. We wandered into a back room and she directed my attention to a chest of drawers. Then, she pulled open the top drawer. There were boxes - shoe boxes and gift boxes - covered with either saran wrap or parchment paper and then a cloth. She then uncovered the boxes. Each box was a different type of pasta/noodle. Each shape had a name. I remember some of them being cut in diamond shapes - small ones - very small ones. Some were being saved for special occasions - others were simply dry and ready to use as needed.

Pauline then asked if I wanted to see her backyard and garden. To be quite truthful, this  postage-stamp-size backyard was simply a garden - the whole thing. After she went backward down the few porch steps to the garden she said that this is what kept her going. With what could easily be considered crippling arthritis and more, she said she came out every morning to work in the garden so that she would be able to make it into and through the rest of the day. Yes, with cane in hand she would get down on her knees or have a small, low stool or would work with the longer garden tools in order to keep the garden tended. 

There I was this morning - complaining about how difficult it was to knead and turn that dough. There I was this morning - wondering about what I could do to stop some of the pains in my back and neck and shoulders. There I was thinking of Pauline - backward down she went into everyday of her life. Backward down she went living within the reality of her aching body. Backward down she went so that she could live. Backward down she went with a full smile, a hearty voice, enduring . Maybe it is because I cannot see myself having such gusto - such courage - such determination in the face of - well - the pains and disappointments of everyday life. 

Backward down she went into all that was ordinary about the day - all that was holy about the day - all that was to be a step-by-step journey of hope. Between now and then we are invited to make the day full with lives that see more than that which might be able to hold us back. There is instead, a fullness of life that may be as simple as getting out to be with friends making quilts in a church basement or lunch after a Lenten worship. There are so many opportunities for life to be full and meaningful right within the fabric of the day we use to stitch together a pattern for our everyday life. 

Every morning I attempt to wake up early and walk and exercise and move. Somedays I don’t make it out of bed as I would like. I need to remember all the adjustments Pauline must have made in her life in order to face pain again - endure whatever the pain would throw at her - build her loving and bright character, and then, in hope, meet the day no matter what might come between now and then.

TRRR