Church service for the mentally ill

Yesterday was the special portion of the service at my church for people who struggle with mental illness. I wrote about this last year, but I'm posting about it again for people who are new to my journal. This year, I was asked to participate, and I was glad to do so.

To start with, there was a table in the narthex, covered with informational packets, brochures, and books about various mental illnesses that members of the congregation were encouraged to take. It was staffed by the congregational representatives for mental illness issues (we have several; all of them have had family or personal experience with mental illness. The congregation leader for this mission has a daughter who has been diagnosed with schizophrenia, and she has been doing this as her mission to the church for nine years.)

During the service, the pastor had a children's message where he talked to the children about mental illness, explaining simply that just as people can become sick with a cold or a flu, they can develop a sickness in their minds, but that God loves and supports us at those times, too. The candle lighting was explained to them.

Then the mental illness outreach leader came up and made some introductory remarks, and then three of us came up to speak for three minutes each. I spoke about depression, another woman spoke about being bipolor, and a man spoke who was obsessive compulsive.

Next, members of the congregation were invited to come up and light a candle for either themselves or someone else they know who is living with mental illness. This is, apparently, done traditionally in this church every year on the first Sunday of October.

( Here are the prayers said during this point in the service:  )

The congregation was then invited up to the front to light candles for themselves or people they knew struggling with mental illness. The hymn sung at that time was "Make me a Channel of Your Peace." I would say about forty people came up to light candles at each service. What a simple, lovely thing to do at this time of year, when the darkness is growing, and it is time to pull out my Seasonal Affective Disorder light box. It comforts me to know that my church is a source of light for me during dark times.

I was moved to tears during my three minute talk as I thanked the church for their outreach to people like me, and I am told that many others cried, too. During the sermon, the pastor also touched upon these topics, and personally thanked me and the other two speakers by name for providing disciple leadership on this issue. After the service, he had me and the other two speakers accompany him out to the narthex afterwards to greet people afterwards. Many, many spoke to me afterwards to thank me and tell me their own stories: My brother committed suicide. I take medication for panic disorder. My daughter is being treated for depression. We held this service portion during both services, and the adult Sunday School forum, in between the two services, was about mental illness, led, again, by the mental health outreach coordinator. She covered depressive disorders, anxiety disorders, and schizophrenia.

My church rocks for doing this.

Cello

On Saturday, Delia and I went to a music store to get her new cello that we will be renting so that she can start playing in the school orchestra.

We chose a 1/2 size instrument for her. I broke into a smile as she plucked a string and then tentatively drew the bow across. That sound brought back a thousand dear memories for me of my mother playing the cello. Mom started when she was ten years old, too, and she has been playing for over sixty-five years. She played in the Evanston (Illinois) symphony orchestra, going to rehearsals on Tuesday nights, and playing in several concerts each year. Attending those concerts was an important part of my own musical education. The sound of Mom's playing was a constant through my childhood. She sat in the living room by the piano, her eyes alight as she practiced, patiently going over runs again and again. To this day, I love the sound of the cello, so close to the nuances of the human voice, because it reminds me so of my mother, and all that her music brought to our lives.

I am thrilled that Delia has chosen to play the cello. If she sticks with it, I will certainly look forward to her playing duets with Fiona on violin. I expect Mom will give Delia a cello lesson when she is up visiting later this month.

Did your parent play an instrument? Did he or she teach you? Tell me how music has been a part of your family.

Thinking about karate again

I have been thinking about resuming karate again. I was at the dojo this past Saturday, photographing the testing for the website, and I found myself longing so hard to participate again. If I did so, I could only swing it by working off my tuition by cleaning the dojo. I'd clean twice a week, an hour and a half each time, eight times a month. If I did that, they would waive my tuition entirely. Do I want to do that, to commit to three hours a week, on top of class time?

Frankly, I don't know. The thing is, if I started doing it, and then my life changes and I decided I didn't want to clean, I would be really stuck. It would be very difficult to manage the tuition payments without, for example, cutting retirement savings, which I really don't want to do.

I asked if I could try the arrangement for a month before signing a contract, just to see if it would be too onerous. That would help. Still it would be a two and a half year commitment.

I will think about it this week.

The John M. Ford Endowment Fund

From elisem's journal:

Mike was a member of the Friends of the Minneapolis Public Library for many years. Many of us have been given wonderful gifts he spotted in the Friends bookstore. He spent a lot of time in the library, and always stopped by the bookstore on his way out. Two-and-a-half weeks ago, he and I went to the new library so he could show me around. (It was funny; he was half grumpy because he didn't have memorized where everything was yet, but almost as proud of the new building as if he had built it himself.)

Last week, in the midst of all the chaos and immediate practical concerns, I stopped down at the Friends office to ask about the possiblities for memorial donations. It seemed to me and a number of Mike's friends that doing something for the library (where he pretty much lived when he wasn't at home) was the right sort of thing. The Friends were grateful. They told me they accept donations through PayPal, as well as by mail or phone. When I told them who exactly Mike was and why the library mattered so much to him, they suggested starting a special named memorial endowment fund.

The Friends Book Endowments are set up to be interest-generating funds rather than one-time piles of money that are spent down to zero and then gone. An endowment fund lives on and yields money for new books every year. Linda K. Merritt at the Friends office told me how it works:

For every $500 dollars deposited in the endowment funds, the Friends purchase a book for the library system annually with the interest earned on the endowment. This really is the gift that keeps on giving. You can specify what genre or library location/branch the books are intended for. Some people just specify “where most needed”. We prepare bookplates and have them inserted in each book before they are shelved. Patrons will see Mike’s name each time the book is opened! I think it is important for people to know that these funds are ‘permanently restricted’ to the annual purchase of books. The money will never be diverted to other use.

They said they'd have a special PayPal button built for it by Monday. What they didn't tell me was that they are putting it up on their homepage. So there it is. It made me cry happy to see it. I know Mike would be glad of it.

That's a perfect memorial for a very special departed friend. I hope some of you might be moved to contribute, in honor of his work.

John M. Ford memorial service

From pnh: Here's the basic information about the public memorial for John M. Ford. All of Mike's friends and admirers are welcome.
Friday, October 27, 2006
First Universalist Church
3400 Dupont Avenue (in Uptown)
Minneapolis, Minnesota

Memorial service, 2-4 PM; reception, 4-5:30 PM. For more information, email Elise Matthesen.