Love Of Mother, Love Of Self

Often times, we take for granted the far reaching impact that mothers have on our individual and collective world. The relationship we develop with our mothers is the very first relationship we develop with humanity.

For Shana, a 2013 Magdalene graduate and currently a Sales Representative for Thistle Farms, Mother’s Day had no significance whatsoever in the past. She can’t even recall celebrating Mother’s Day as most of her childhood, adolescence and adulthood were spent doing crack cocaine alongside her mother. For Shana, the mother/daughter bond was established through drugs. As a means of survival, Shana used dissociation, a defense mechanism involving the breakdown of memory caused by psychological trauma. How amazing that our psychological defenses coupled with the soul’s yearning for self-love and healing can protect the heart, mind and physical body during times of sustained crisis.

The decades of despair, addiction, violence, and incarceration guided Shana to Magdalene.  The symbolic season of spring, renewal and finally, self-love was bestowed upon her. “Forgiving my Mother was essential to my healing, even though my mother is in active addiction. Although I experience fear she will die an addict, I want my mother to know that she is loved. Everybody deserves that.”

Shana is now the proud grandmother of her 5-month old “grandbaby”. She was beaming with joy when she made an announcement at the Thistle Farms meditation circle. “Three of the happiest moments in my life was being at the hospital the day my granddaughter was born, the day my daughter called to ask if I would like to spend the day with my grandbaby on my own, showing the great deal of trust that she had in me, and the day my granddaughter woke up from napping in my arms.  I thought she was going to freak out, but instead she opened her eyes and looked at me with a smile as if to say, 'That’s my Nanna.'" 

Shana and her grandbaby

This Mother’s Day, Shana is planning on giving her mother a special gift to honor her in a practical way. “I think she would love a pair of sneakers.  The last time I talked with her on the phone, she mentioned that she needed them. That would really make her day.” Shana had some advice for those with similar stories, “Trust in God, the power of prayer and LOVE no matter what.  Holding on to anger did nothing for my Mother or me.  Now, when she calls me on the phone, my heart pitter patters with joy.”

We are all reflections of our mothers. To unconditionally love our mothers is to unconditionally love ourselves.  May we as a whole heal ourselves, our mothers and our world.

By Heather Venesile, Thistle Farmer

Shana and her children 

Stopping The Cycle One Small Community At A Time

We are grateful for people who reach out to us from across the country who share the work they are doing in their own communities. Police Officer Jonathan Zitzmann just contacted us with the following story:

I am Cpl. Jonathan Zitzmann with the Madisonville Police Department in Madisonville, TX. On Friday April 26th, my Department continued a high-profile investigation regarding Human Trafficking and Prostitution of many different ages, 13 - 35. An arrest was made on a 35 year old female, who is being charged with six felonies including Trafficking of Persons and Compelling Prostitution. Many girls were coerced into selling themselves for sex and paying the madam for it as well. Madisonville is a small town of approx. 4300 people. Cases like this are not typically possible in small cities like this but we made it happen. I thought you might like and appreciate what are 12 man department is doing and I wanted to let you know.

More information and press can be found at KBTX and 

The Eagle.

Thank you,

Cpl. Jonathan Zitzmann #205

Madisonville Police Department

Madisonville Texas may be a small community, but abuse, trafficking, prostitution and addiction are present there as they are in most communities. We greatly appreciate the work the Madisonville Police Department did to help fight the abuse of these young women, and the compassion Officer Zitzmann and others showed them. To end the cycle of sexual abuse, addiction and trafficking, we need communities to partner all their resources to help women heal. We can all make a difference, one small community at a time.

Tall As A Thistle

A few days ago, I saw the blossom of a huge thistle growing in a natural cemetery I visited in Gainesville, Florida called Prairie Creek. Thistles have long been our symbol at Thistle Farms of the weed that grows where the women walk and sleep, how each one has a beautiful purple center and reminds us that everything on God's green earth is beloved. I wanted to show our friends the 10' tall thistle plants nearby that still haven't bloomed. I carry the community of Thistle Farms with me on the road, laughing about stories I remember, fretting over money, missing being a part of our meditation circle and worrying about the most vulnerable among the women we serve who are still suffering.

When I saw these thistles I wanted to gather the whole community, hold hands and sing our hearts out. I wanted us to sing because in the middle of even an old cemetery there is life and it is powerful and stunning. These thistles have tap roots that must reach down another 10'. That means this plant, not yet fully grown is over 20' high. It is nurtured by the earth around it and by it's fore-bearers that offered  their seeds from wind and rain to take root.

This is how I see the community of Thistle Farms right now: 20' high and growing taller from the trials of opening new businesses, launching a conference and even burying friends and family this year. Our community was planted on rich soil and we have nothing to fear. Our community is standing 20' tall and it is a sign of love's power and grace. I am holding all the women who still are on the streets and suffering in troubled fields from sexual violence, mental health, trauma, loneliness, and trafficking in my thoughts at the foot of this giant thistle. The story and perseverance are part of what makes our thistle stand tall in the troubled fields of this world. With more gratitude and love than I have words for, I am a thistle farmer.

Peace and love, 

Becca Stevens---

Thistle Farmer

The Sewing Studio

Our newest endeavor, The Sewing Studio, opened this month with an introduction to sewing machines given by Vivian Lavinskas, from Singer, Viking, Pfaff (SVP) who arranged the donation of 12 new sewing machines to Thistle Farms.  

We had enormous excitement when we carried the new machines into our wonderful new space and opened the boxes for the first time. The machines fit neatly into the sewing tables that were waiting for them, and we are all plugged in and ready for instruction. 

Joan -- a happy Thistle Farmer and seamstress!

Instruction will continue under the able guidance of wonderful generous hearted Thistle Farmer volunteers, Gayle Happell and Babs Knieriem, and several members of the Cumberland Valley Quilt Guild and other skilled volunteers. The women who will be training and working in the Sewing Studio are Joan, Betty and Tonya. Penny and Anna will also go through the training and everyone will be working in both the Paper and Sewing Studios, as needed.  

Studio employees, Betty, Terri and Joan are joined by generous hearted Quilter Mentors: Gayle, Babs and Shirley.

Our initial products will be directed toward the cafe market.  We will be using brilliant exciting batik cotton fabrics to create coasters, tea cozies, placemats, napkins and table runners.  According to Thistle Stop Cafe Coordinator, Courtney, the items will be used as decor for special events at the cafe, as well as being available for purchase.

These are prototypes of the tea cozies the Sewing Studio will be making for use and for sale in the cafe. They keep the tea hot longer, protects the table top, and adds color and warmth to the tea setting. Colors and fabric designs will vary. All 100% cotton.

In addition, beginning in June, the Studio will be working on a large quilt to be hung as a backdrop at this year's annual fundraiser. To cut our overhead, we are hoping to receive donations of 100% cotton batik fabrics and thread. 

Rita and Tonya learning how to use the automatic needle threader. 

Here are some reflections from the Thistle Farms Sewing Studio employees:


I love my experience in sewing because it's something new for me. I made a pillow, then I gave it to someone else who watched us make them. We had wonderful teachers here tutoring us, as well.  I love making people feel as good as I do.  

- Penny

Mentor Babs with Nealya, who donated over 20 Yards of beautiful batiks.

I love my experience in the sewing room, I love new creations, and, thanks to my good attention, I can learn to sew and sew.  

- Betty

SVP Vivian Lavinskas, on right, explaining features of machines to Betty and Mentors, Jeannie and Joan. 

I've heard it said that if you do what you love, you never have to work again.  I love to sew and that's what I do for a living. My creativity has been sparked by the wonderful mentors and all of the new machines and devices. I get excited when I get to come to work.

- Joan

Joan, Anna & Betty 

Endless gratitude to our incredible team of mentors who swept in on Wednesday with enthusiasm, skill, patience, and abundant love to offer instruction in careful craftsmanship and to share beautiful fabrics, bowls of strawberries and shouts of hearty laughter.  The Sewing Studio has had a great launch.

- Anna

Story and Photos by Anna Saterstrom 

From Alleyways to Skyways

Thistle Farms was recently the recipient of the Neighborhood Builders® award from Bank of America. The award recognizes nonprofits that have made a significant impact in the community in the areas of housing, jobs and hunger relief. The program pairs leadership training for executive directors and emerging leaders with a $200,000 two-year unrestricted grant. Bank of America started this award in 2004, and since that time, has awarded more than $165 million, recognized over 730 nonprofits, and trained nearly 1,500 nonprofit leaders. We are not only so grateful for the funding that this remarkable grant provides, but also for the leadership training it is providing women in this program.

Here is a first-hand account of Shana's recent trip to a Bank of America Conference for Emerging Leaders:

WOW, Bank of America gave us a Neighborhood Builders grant and we needed a representative to go to Arizona for a conference. As I'm a Sales Rep for Thistle Farms, and Katrina, our National Sales Director couldn't attend, I was asked to go. My response was....when do I leave!  

I was given instructions throughout the months leading up to the trip: set up a Linked In account, register for a Leadership Practices Inventory Assessment (a survey your co-workers do about you), call AAA and make reservations. ALL DONE!  

This would be my first trip by myself. Very exciting -- although the closer the date came, the more anxious I became. Because it was Bank of America, I pictured myself sitting in the middle of rows of bankers in suits. And what is 'business casual' anyway?  

After stuffing the biggest suitcase I could find with too many clothes, I was off. Although I took my first flight ever only last year, I now consider myself to be a pro at airports! 

Upon arrival in Arizona, I met one of my first not-a-banker-at-all colleagues. She was from Arizona and continued to tell me about her organization’s mission and the grant Bank of America gave them. 

There would be 60 individuals from different organizations there that week who all had received grants from Bank of America. We all spent the week in training on how to become a better leader. I met the most incredible people and learned all about their organizations. What an amazing opportunity! 

From alleyways to skyways, I am a true example of how love heals. 

By Shana Godwin

Thistle Farms Sales Rep

Letting Go With Grace

This blog post is part 5 of a 5-part series on Snake Oil: The Art of Healing and Truth Telling by Becca Stevens. For parts 1-4, click HERE, HERE, HERE and HERE.

Credit

Letting go with grace is a lot like being a tight ropewalker. There is tension in it, there is uncertainty, and there is the illusion that nothing will be under you should you fail. But the beauty in watching a tight ropewalker perform is that at the end of the day, through the tricks and leaps and almost-disasters that occur, the ultimate message of such an act is to invite people to hear stories, to invite people into a sacred space who are searching to be moved.

Being able to let go of control means that we are to loosen our grip on our need for certainty and to accept grace that is extended to us.

“Sometimes letting go is hard, not because we will lose something or someone we love, but because the process of releasing requires us to contemplate our own shortcomings and fears.”

The healing oil "Contemplation," made with jasmine, grapefruit, frankincense and myrrh in olive oil, invites us to restore our minds and bodies for reflection. A descendant of the oils that Mary carried to the tomb of Jesus, Contemplation reminds us to accept the things that we cannot change, and to receive love as it comes to us.

In the end, being a snake oil salesman means the ultimate invitation to come and know, and to seek truth. They invite us like the eternal sky to keep searching for truth and meaning. 

You can order "Contemplation" or our entire line of healing oils on our online store. For more information on the book, Snake Oil, visit the Jericho Books website or purchase online at:
Parnassus Books
Amazon
Barnes And Noble
or find at an Independent Bookseller near you

Story by Abby Hardaway
Photos by Peggy Napier & Carolyn Snell

The Light of Easter 2013

Early in the morning, while it was still dark in the chapel of San Eduardo, I saw an image of a stained-glass window on the wall. We have slept on this floor for 15 years every spring in this small Ecuadorian town, but I had never seen this. The image was made from light coming from ventilation cutouts in the concrete wall in the shape of a flower, casting a Rosetta image on the opposite wall. The light was haloed as it moved and faded with the coming dawn in the middle of the world. Everything feels hallowed when we have hearts wide-open in the midst of a concrete chapel off a dirt road. In moments such as these, when we remember we are on holy ground, no cathedral is more adorned. In such light, beauty rises from within as truth brushes past and carries us to hope.

I wonder if it was a vision of light on stone that carried Mary Magdalene through the Easter Morning events. The story of the Resurrection begins with the words, “while it was still dark." The light has not yet risen on Jerusalem on the Sabbath, as Mary heads out with grief as her guide to carry her to the body. And that is when light and shadow begin their dance like stained glass on concrete. A sliver of light is enough for her to see the stone rolled away and to run to Peter and John. As they run back to the tomb in a race with the murky light of dawn, they see enough to know Jesus is gone. Mary stands alone and tries to see through tears and shadows. The light is surely breaking through as she sees now angels and linen on the floor. Then, even as she cannot make out what she is seeing, she hears Jesus calling her. Then the true light of hope fills her from within, and she reaches for Jesus.

I laid my sister’s ashes inside the altar at the A-Frame Chapel as lent began. The next Wednesday night, I led a Eucharist with the same words and motions I have used every week for 20 years. As I lifted the round unleavened bread, I recited the last prayer, “…And at the last day bring us with all your saints into the joy of your eternal kingdom." As I raised the host, there was a beautiful light with depth filling the center. I almost couldn't break it; I just stood there drawn into it. It had something to do with the silver paten, the lighting in the room, the angle I was holding it and the space that grief opens in us. I wrote that night that I couldn’t make out what the light was, maybe a lion, but even though it was unclear, I longed for it. The next Sunday, without talking with one another, The Rev. Dr. Scott Owings preached to us about a vision and said, “Imagine walking into church at night. The candles are the only source of light. Rest your eyes upon the host and it begins to send out rays of light that enter you and flood your soul, cleansing you. The rays soak into your body.”

I asked him where the image came from and if he saw a shape in the light. He said he just felt it. Even murky and shadowed light like that first week of Lent carry rays of hope in grief. Those rays are enough to bring all of us to the garden while it is still dark, ready to anoint a body, but hopeful enough when we see a sliver of light on rock or bread to run to find answers. 

The next weeks of Lent were busy with the group of 31 preparing for Ecuador and readying the clinic. After seeing more than 900 patients, the clinic closed, and we traveled to the 800-year-old town of Cuenca. It was Dr. Keith Hagan’s last trip where he and Carole have served faithfully building the clinic operations. Early on the Sabbath, Michael, Don, Tara and I walked with Keith on his final morning, as communion was ending in the Cathedral. 

We approached the altar as the remaining host was being placed in a tabernacle cross.  Just as we were grieving Keith’s leaving Ecuador, there it was. In the golden cross holding the host, the light I had glimpsed at the altar and which Scott envisioned was shining. It looked like a lion’s mane. 

That light is always there, it is just that sometimes we have to walk through Lent, death and letting go to behold it.  

   

We have seen the light. And when we let light flood our stone hearts we can feel hope pouring into grief itself. The stone has rolled and all those we love who have died live on in love and the memory of God. All we grieve is full of light. Feel the light shining this morning as surely as it shone on Mary. Imagine as she left the tomb, the morning light pouring over her and turning her tears into prisms. Let us see radiant light like angels standing with linens. Let us feel the fullness of light that danced the first morning of creation, that shines in the darkness and that will lead us home. “There is light even in death," Easter preaches. A sliver of light can cast stained glass on poor concrete walls, turn bread into a heavenly host and cut through our darkness enough to see we are bathed in the light of love. It means that we can live in hope, dedicated to justice and truth, knowing the light will never leave us. The light is ours for the beholding and allows us to make our song even at our own Easter morning, “Alleluia, Alleluia, Alleluia.”

By Rev. Becca Stevens