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07/28/2025

Today’s blog

Lynn Murphy Mark

A different way to pray

One of the things that I learned at Unity has to do with a method of praying known as “Affirmative Prayer”. As prayer chaplains over the last few years we learned the art of praying in a manner that centers on a close inner relationship with God. I suppose that all prayer requires a relationship with a higher power. But praying affirmatively means that we seek God within us, not a distant God. It means we don’t ask God to do something, or fix something, or change something. Because we believe that God lives within our very being, we take an inner voyage and connect with God personally and intimately. 

When we address the God that lives within us, we are partnering with God’s love and mercy. We acknowledge that we are in possession of the gift of inner abilities. Rather than petition God for a specific outcome, we go within and look for our inner strengths. These strengths allow us to make peace with the situation whenever possible. We pray there will be a transformation from fear and doubt into peace and confidence. 

Each time we pray, we meet God within ourselves. God is the source of all good, and that good is available to each of us at all times. According to God’s infinite wisdom, we have gifts of strength, creativity, courage that we can call upon when we face life’s challenges. 

Someone asked me once how to pray with someone who is facing or has experienced great sorrow. Whether it’s from a devastating loss, or difficult news, or a tough challenge ahead, praying affirmatively may seem counter-intuitive. To me, the first thing to do is to acknowledge just how close God is to us in times like these. And, with that closeness comes access to spiritual resources that may sustain us through a difficult time.

When I watch the news and see pictures of the latest tragedy I always watch carefully for the presence of God in the midst. As people pick through the rubble trying to find trapped victims, I believe they get their strength and motivation from an indwelling love for the people they are trying to help. They get their courage and energy from a steady stream of love from God and the Universe. Otherwise, how could they function in the face of such devastation? They are all ordinary heroes, powered by faith.

It’s not that I am an eternal optimist. In my own life I have faced difficult times and am still here to tell about a passage through darkness to the inevitable light. Once when I was in the throes of a deep depression I went to my minister. I told him I was having a crisis of faith, feeling very alone and out of touch with God. What he did for me was to change my perspective about how God manifests. He told me to think about the people that I was depending on for support, that they were acting as God’s representatives on my behalf. He reminded me that I was being treated by a brilliant psychiatrist who probably saved my life. Even though her practice was full, she agreed to see me anyway. I spent the next 6 months under her loving care. My minister said these strengths that surrounded me were evidence of God moving quietly with and within me.

I have prayed with people who lost loved ones. In those encounters I prayed they would remain open to accepting help as it was offered. I prayed they would find ways to take care of themselves as their loved one would want them to do. I prayed that grief would become a friend, opening ways to live in their new, upside down world. I reminded them that the strength that carried them through the difficulties of a painful loss was still there when they were ready. 

Learning how to pray in this different way has helped me appreciate the grace that surrounds us. It helps that I have lived enough to have a rich history of going through difficulties and coming out the other side of them. I will be forever grateful to Unity for opening my eyes in this way. 

07/26/2025

Today’s blog

Lynn Murphy Mark

Perusing police files

Yesterday one of my clients delivered a flash drive from a local police department. Since it arrived mid-morning and I still had a lot to do, I thought I would bring it home and look at it over the weekend. Besides, I knew I could depend on my MacBook to accept the drive and show me its contents.

My client is a victim of a crime and who has cooperated with the police. This entitles her to apply for what is known as a “U NonImmigrant Visa”. She was severely injured when her partner shot her in the back. The track of the bullet injured her spine, her esophagus and her trachea. She was hospitalized for a long time with a tracheotomy and a feeding tube. The perpetrator is in jail, as he should be.

Last week I talked with her for a long time about this case, and about what she could expect when applying for a U Visa. This is a generous program through USCIS that eventually results in a work permit, approval of the U Visa, and then a few years later, a green card. The downside is that it takes years to get approval. There are only 50,000 U visas distributed each year. The backlog is such that USCIS is now working on cases that were filed in 2018. That means it will be at least 7 years before she can expect a decision.

She has a watertight case. USCIS has now acknowledged that U Visa applicants who are determined to have a “Bona Fide” case will receive a work permit about 12 to 18 months after the case is filed. Before 47 came into office, being in the process of a U Visa gave immigrants a little protection from deportation. I don’t know where that “rule” stands now, with the new policies governing the work of ICE agents. 

My client is from a Southeast Asian country. She’s actually here on a work visa, which will expire in the next year or so. In order to stay in the USA, she will need a different immigration status, and, as she hopes to permanently live here, a U Visa is the only benefit available to her. But like I said, hers is a “perfect” U Visa case. I have everything I need at my disposal: a detailed police report, and a Victim Advocate who will walk my paperwork through the system and get the necessary official signature from law enforcement. It is a requirement to submit a police-approved document stating that she is a victim of a crime and has cooperated with the police to apprehend the perpetrator.

My client has bravely written a detailed statement about the crime and its effects on every part of her being – physical, emotional, and mental. She is suffering from PTSD. One of the first things I did was to connect her with a counseling agency for victims of domestic violence. She called them right away, recognizing that she is at risk for ongoing psychological problems. 

So this morning I spent a couple of hours reviewing the contents of the flash drive. I printed off a comprehensive police report. I looked at hundreds of crime scene photos, ones that included pictures of a spent cartridge, and blood stains on the concrete floor where she tried to escape from the shooter. There are pictures of her with tubes from her trachea and stomach. She is still suffering after-effects of the shooting’s damage to her internal organs.

She is a slight young woman, but strong in every aspect of her personality. She is organized and cooperative, and has gotten great support from the Victim Advocate. 

This is one U Visa case that will come together smoothly. By the time I gather all evidence and documentation, the file will likely be 2 inches thick. I will meet with her and go over the USCIS forms that I need to fill out. I am assured that I will get the law enforcement documents signed by the head of the police department. This is usually the most challenging part of a U Visa case, because not all police departments are friendly to immigrants. In her case, there is no doubt that she is a victim of a crime of violence and she has done everything the law requires of her. 

I have never spent a Saturday morning looking at crime scene photos. Not that this has been on my bucket list, but I do admit that I felt like a real detective for a couple of hours.

07/24/2025

Today’s blog

Lynn Murphy Mark

My cousin Sarah

When living overseas, the word “family” takes on a different meaning. Every three years, my parents and I would come to the United States for “home leave”. It was a time to reconnect with stateside family and friends. In our case we had two places to visit: Tulsa, OK, to see my maternal grandmother and my uncle was one. But my favorite was Winchester, IN, to see the Murphy clan of aunts and uncles and, best of all, my Uncle Pat’s five daughters. 

We would stay with my Aunt Doris who lived on the family farm and took care of the land and the animals. I loved going there because there were cows and chickens and I would get up with Aunt Doris before dawn and go gather eggs. She showed me how to milk a cow which was a magical experience for a city kid. There was always a dog, too, who mostly lived outside and craved human interaction. In a sort of porch/utility room there was a butter churn and a wringer washer-dryer. When I wanted to go explore on my own, there was a small creek to play in.

Then we would go to Uncle Pat’s farm. He would be out working the fields and sometimes he would let me up in the huge tractor with him. One vague memory I have is of wandering into a fenced pasture where there was a big old bull. I had no safety awareness, being just over toddlerhood, and I thought I could just go and pet that huge creature. I didn’t notice the little knot of adults outside the fence who were trying to figure out how to rescue me without being rushed by an angry bull. I am here to tell about it, so they must have figured out a way. 

The other half of the Pat Murphy couple was the hardest working woman I have ever known, my Aunt Audrey. She was raising five daughters and working the farm at the same time. Meal time at their house was a little noisy and a lot of joy to me. I, being a single child, longed for siblings. The prospect of being one of five was beyond my imagination. I just stared at all of them together and wondered what it would be like to have to share my stuff with other human beings.

Most of the girls were a bit older than I was. But there was Cousin Sarah, only a couple of years my senior, and I knew I could count on her to play with me. My other cousins were Ann, Caroline, Elaine, and Jane. Each had a distinct personality, but I was drawn to Sarah who was more my size. 

Over the intervening years I grew closer to my Cousin Ann, but I always remembered Sarah’s warmth. She was the keeper of the family news and the one who might initiate a plan to get together. When I had my own children there was a family reunion planned. By that time my cousins had a whole tribe of children so it was a rather large gathering. Just a couple of years ago she orchestrated a “cousins’ reunion”. My Cousin Jack and his wife came from Iowa and I made my way there from Saint Louis. Sarah’s house was the hub. We looked at old pictures, listened to stories, tried to remember the details, and laughed a whole lot. By that time, Cousin Ann was long gone from our sight, having died at a very early age. But her presence was felt. Cousin Jack was in treatment for his own encounter with cancer but was feeling very hopeful for the immune therapy regime he was on.

I loved every minute of that reunion. To see the Murphy girls and laugh along with the funniest one, Cousin Jane, was well worth the experience. The girls were still poking each other verbally and recalling memories as we gathered around the living room of Sarah’s welcoming house. The other sisters, Elaine and Caroline, added their perspectives into the very funny mix. 

This last Tuesday was Sarah’s 78^th birthday. I sent her a facebook greeting to wish her a great day. But God and the Universe had other plans for her. Sometime during the day on Tuesday she died suddenly and very unexpectedly. She was at home. She must have called 911, but she couldn’t reach the front door to let them in. The paramedics entered through the garage and found her unresponsive. I don’t know details, but I know they worked to bring her back but were unable to do so.

I got the news early yesterday morning. I just stared at the words telling me she had died and couldn’t wrap my mind around them. I still can’t. I’m waiting for news of any arrangements. I will go if I can, to pay my respects to Nora, her family, and the other Murphy girls. Rest In Peace, sweet Sarah.

07/22/2025

Today’s blog

Lynn Murphy Mark

Tempus fugit

Today is a special day for Jan and me. A mere nineteen years ago we walked down an aisle at Trinity Episcopal Church in the Central West End of Saint Louis. We walked arm in arm toward the front, where Reverend Anne Kelsey was waiting for us. I remember that Jan was pretty nervous as evidenced by some shakiness. She wore a pink jacket. I wore a navy blue suit with a beaded pin at my neck that had been made by my hostess here in Baltimore – my sweet friend Katie. 

It was 2006 and we had met each other less than a year before, in August of 2005. We had an introductory coffee at a Starbucks and were off and running, well, maybe trotting, and never looked back. Jan took me to her Episcopal church where I met Reverend Anne. Shortly after the first of the year 2006, Jan started talking about having a Commitment Ceremony at Trinity. She told me she had never felt like celebrating a partnership in this way but now it seemed like the right thing to do.

We made an appointment with Reverend Anne to talk about a plan. We met, and she was caught by surprise at our request. She said she would need to meet with us a few times before she could agree to officiating. Back in 2006, the Episcopal church was not somewhat divided on backing same-sex anything. She wanted to be sure if she presided at such an occasion we were fully aware of what we were asking. It’s not that she was reluctant to celebrate with us, but she did wonder if we had really know each other long enough.

After we convinced her that, at our age, we were pretty sure what we were asking her to do. We reminded her that we were 55 and 60 years old, not exactly blushing brides. Eventually we convinced her we were seriously joined at the heart and were a safe bet for her to make her own commitment. In 2006, the Anglican General Convention had passed a resolution that supported the full civil rights of gay and lesbian individuals. But this was not fully supported across the Anglican world. Since relationships within the Anglican Communion were strained over gay issues there was some reluctance to authorize blessings for same sex couples. The decision she had to make was the possibility of blow-back from the Saint Louis Episcopal Bishop. God bless her – she never looked back either.

People we loved took part in the ceremony. Jackie played her flute, Ted read a bible passage, our support-couple from the church stood up with us. We had asked our best friends to join us and read part of the ceremonial documents. Rose was there for me and Jacqueline joined Jan. 

When we turned around to face the congregation there were so many wonderful friends in the pews that tears began to flow. I will never forget that Katie made the trip to be with us, less than a month after Kemet had made his transition on their beautiful mesa in New Mexico. If that isn’t testimony to the power of soul-sisterly love, I don’t know what is. 

For Jan’s part her brother, to whom she had recently come out, was in the front row. From what I know about him, he was probably as uncomfortable as he could be. But he was there. He didn’t stay for the reception afterwards, but Jan had not even expected him to attend. After the ceremony we all went down to the meeting hall, that was decorated beautifully. Champagne flowed freely. Several toasts were made. Jan’s friend had made a gorgeous custom wedding cake. 

After all was said and done I was riddled with mild anxiety. So I snuck out to the parking lot and joined my smoker friends. Smoking was a part of my life then, much to Jan’s displeasure. It was absolutely the most calming thing I could do at that moment, so displeasure be damned. It was a beautiful, sunny July day, not too humid by Saint Louis Summer standards. It was basically a perfect day for such a union.

So, “tempus fugit”, time flies. Nineteen years later I am in Baltimore with Katie instead of at home with Jan – definitely poor planning on my part. But I’ll be home just before midnight, just in time for an anniversary hug.

07/19/2025

Today’s blog

Lynn Murphy Mark

Greetings from “Charm City”

In case you don’t know this, Baltimore is affectionately known as “Charm City” due to its friendly and welcoming atmosphere. It’s also known as the birthplace of the Star Spangled Banner. Yesterday I landed gently – honestly it was one of the smoothest landings I remember – in this place where my Hermana, Katie, lives. After a dozen or so texts and calls –  I have to add that Katie’s frantic calls went unanswered because my phone was on silent – we finally found each other in the unofficial pick-up lane at BWI. 

I had just come from Terminal 2 at Lambert. The terminal was packed to bursting. First I was surprised and annoyed that so many people were in line in front of me. Then I remembered that this is summertime and people go on vacation and Friday is a popular day to fly. That explained the huge golf club bags and duffels that were being checked, and the unusual number of children and babies getting ready to travel.

At our gate, E 18, there were very few seats left in the waiting area. I snagged one just in time to be joined by a woman with four stairstep children. The group included one toddler who had the most piercing scream I’ve ever heard. The child was enjoying practicing her shrill raw talent over and over. Mom was apparently used to this display and little one’s siblings were quietly looking at their iPads and books while she carried on. At first I felt sorry for mom, taking on a voyage without another adult to help her. But about 20 minutes into the shriek-fest a dad appeared, studying his phone intently. I immediately assumed that he had been hiding out in the men’s restroom. Katie texted he had probably been in the adjacent bar.

Smooth flight, smooth landing, not so smooth pick-up later, and Katie and I were together at last. We drove to Catonsville, which is quite reminiscent of Webster/Kirkwood. First stop? A liquor store to pick up some wine. Second stop? Patel Brothers grocery to get some samosas for lunch and later. Then off to Katie’s sweet apartment. It is cozy and comfortable with just enough space for her and an occasional guest. 

The guest bedroom is divided into a sleeping and sitting area as well as a storage place for Kemet’s paintings. Most of them are still boxed up from her New Mexico departure some years ago. One day while I’m here, we are going to open the boxes and catalogue the paintings. Hopefully we will find the one Katie is wanting to display. So last night I slept with Kemet’s spirit with me in the room. 

After talking non-stop for about an hour, Katie got out a book that has metaphysical interpretations of people according to their birthdays. We spent the next two hours exploring the writing about birthdays of people we love. The writings turned out to be pretty true to form for each person we looked up. Sometime while I’m here we will also do card readings for each other. This is why I love being in Katie’s presence. There’s never a dull moment.

Of course we talked and commiserated about politics and 47 and the ridiculous and cruel nature of his administration. The day ended with us watching snippets of news about the alleged birthday letter that 47 wrote to Jeffrey Epstein on his 50^th birthday. True to form, the story is salacious and typical of what 47 is capable of.

But the highlight was watching the movie, “Sinners”. Katie is so taken by it that she has her own copy. We settled on the couch with our pizza and my wine and off we went into one of the most powerful movies I’ve seen in a long time. Yes, it’s a horror story about vampires in the 1930’s deep South, but that is just one layer of this rich film. Black history in the Mississippi delta is the real focus of the film. The vampires who want to claim dozens of Black bodies are all white. I just kept thinking how white people have tried to suck the blood and spirit out of People of Color for hundreds of years. 

There’s plenty of blood in the movie, but the characters steal the attention away from the gore. One by one they are attacked and bitten and turned into evil spirits willing to go after their own people. The film is much more than that story, though. There is a Blues soundtrack that is wonderful. There are love stories that unfold. There is a plea for understanding and appreciating how we are all one beyond the veil that separates physical from spiritual. There is the joy of the one day of true freedom that the characters enjoyed before the horror started.

More will be revealed during this delightful interlude with Katie!!

07/17/2025

Today’s blog

Lynn Murphy Mark

What exactly is a blog?

This question came up recently and I couldn’t answer it outright, which struck me as funny. Other than to say it’s a written personal reflection, I can’t explain the phenomenon.. Whatever that means…Anyway, apparently the word appeared in the late 1990’s as a shortened version of “weblog”. All I know is that I’ve been writing them since January of 2022. Now I have enough to fill a book of several hundred pages. Since I’ve already been there and self-published two books I don’t intend to produce another volume.

I tell my children that these blogs are my legacy for them when I’ve left the planet. Whether or not they find them useful in any way is entirely up to them. Jackie is pretty faithful about reading them on Facebook, but Ted has been done with Facebook for several years. When I write one that I think he will find interesting, I email it to him. 

There is a small group of people who read and comment on them. I am so grateful for the feedback and hope the writing has some meaning for them, or, at the very least, some helpful information. I do a little research when I’m addressing current events, or scientific studies. I want my writing to be as accurate as possible. I admit that one source is Wikipedia, but I consult scientific journals and news sources as well. 

Here’s what I know for sure. I have discovered a most powerful therapeutic tool. Writing the blogs gives me joy – most of the time, unless I’m writing about 47 or Congress. Then I indulge my anger and outrage and let them fly across the page. I usually write about spiritual topics, or my work in immigration, or the latest pride and joy in my kids. Sometimes the topic is quite random. Those are the mornings when I stare at my computer screen and wait for something to bubble up from my early morning brain cells. Sometimes I’ve listened to NPR and learned some fact that is amazing to me and must be shared.

As an aside – please email our senators Schmitt and Hawley and ask them not to defund Public Broadcasting Service and NPR. This has to be done today as the senate is in session deciding on appropriations. Dear God, it’s too late. In today’s top stories, the senate approved legislation to rescind $9 billion in federal funding for NPR, PBS, and their member stations and also to stop funding foreign aid programs. Now I’m ready to rant.

What is going on in this country should scare every one of us. I know for sure that 47 and his minions are still throwing spaghetti on walls to see what sticks. More and more pasta is adhering to the wall followed by some destructive move to banish anything “woke”. As for the mothership, NPR, I am sad and mad that my one steady source of honest reporting is under siege. I can only hope that listeners will increase their donations, and that Bill Gates will give a billion or two to support Public Broadcasting. 

In Saint Louis, our NPR station will lose $575,000 annually. This means that STLPR will have to raise this money from donors and corporate sponsors every year in order to continue to provide the programming many of us depend on. This morning I will listen to my NPR station on my drive to work. Just yesterday, I had a “driveway moment” – an episode where I get to where I’m going in my car, but sit and listen to the rest of the reporting before I turn off the engine. I’ve spent many a minute doing just this. 

So this is what a blog is to me: a very present and current reflection of my state of mind. As I said, I love writing it and am grateful there are people who read it. In a way it’s a blog about nothing much but what occurs to me in the darkness before dawn. This week Richard Rohr has written about the value of darkness. Today’s meditation quotes Dr. Barbara Holmes, who made her transition last year. Here are a few of her words:

“But there are many types of darkness. There is the darkness of determined ignorance and hatred, impenetrable and smothering. There is the tiny microcosm of darkness that gave birth to the universe, its new realities and new worlds. There is the mothering darkness of the womb, and the protective darkness of the ‘cloud by night’…Because I saw my Aunties negotiate darkness as a reality with as much potential as light, I stopped being afraid of the dark…”

07/15/2025

Today’s blog

Lynn Murphy Mark

Elmo?? Really??

While driving home yesterday I heard a snippet on NPR and vowed to write a blog about it. Much to my amazement, the news was that Elmo’s X account was hacked. The hackers used the little red guy’s platform to post anti-semitic rants and racist comments. In addition, there was a profane post about the late sex abuser, Jeffrey Epstein.

Sometime over the weekend, hackers gained access to Elmo’s account. To understand the horror of such a takeover, it’s important to know that Elmo represents everything good about childlike innocence. He has remained age three and a half since around 1980, when he first appeared as a background character on Sesame Street. By 1985 he had become a main character and was developing a following.

Elmo was once a regular on Rosie O’Donnell’s show. It occurs to me that this might be why Elmo was targeted by – my theory – MAGA hackers. Rosie has been a long-time verbal opponent of 47, enough so that 47 has threatened to remove her citizenship from her. Rosie did not miss a beat, inviting 47 to try and do just that. Her final comment? “I have the Epstein files.”  Apparently the MAGAverse is split over 47’s and Pam Bondi’s statements that there are no files of Epstein followers. This after Bondi announced early on that the Epstein files were on her desk.  

OOPS. Perhaps 47’s name and films appear prominently in these files? MAGA has been rabid about the release of the files, believing instead that they would incriminate Democrats. The belief is that the files will expose Democrats who are pedophiles, baby-killers, and sex traffickers. This conspiracy theory has taken such deep root in the MAGAverse that the rationale is that despicable Democrats need to be identified and brought to justice as baby murderers and abusers. Their fury and disappointment at the statements that there are no files is enough to hack a beloved child-like character’s account and post lurid statements against Jews, People of Color, and Democrats.

The business of being hacked has made its appearance in my own home. Earlier this year, Jan’s accounts were hacked, and her bank determined that the hackers live on the “dark web”. Now, according to my cybersecurity specialist son-in-law, practically everyone’s data is available on the dark web due to the many breaches of security that are always occurring. Jan has spent hours on the phone and a whole lot of dollars trying to settle the thousands of dollars of purchases made while using her identity – complete with social security number, and bank account and credit card information. Once, in a matter of minutes, there were three unauthorized charges on a credit card made while she was asleep one morning.

This has been a painful, expensive process, and is not yet completely settled. As a result, her credit rating took a plunge and there were threats to turn her over to collections. This problem is not for the faint of heart. My son-in-law advises as follows: “Get a good identity insurance plan and practice good password hygiene. Use a password manager. Don’t re-use your passwords. Use multi-factor authentication where possible. Avoid easy to guess passwords. Avoid sharing debit card information with anybody. Always use a credit card where you have limited liability.” Apparently if a credit card is hacked, the owner is only liable for up to $1,000. 

Back to little Elmo. Fortunately, Sesame Workshop regained control of Elmo’s X platform on Monday, and saved his 650,000 followers from the filth posted over the weekend. The hacker demanded the release of the Epstein files and attacked 47 over his refusal to do so. I can only wonder what very twisted thinking resulted in using Elmo’s account so inappropriately. 

This is not a conspiracy theory – there are a lot of crazy, perverted people looking for any way to promote a MAGA way of life. Using Elmo – ELMO! – is just one manifestation of MAGA madness.

07/13/2025

Today’s blog

Lynn Murphy Mark

Sharing a prayer

In February of this year Jan and I joined Parkway United Church of Christ. It is a congregation that is welcoming and progressive. There are many initiatives for social justice activities. It is an open and affirming church, one of more than 1,800 churches and other ministries in the United Church of Christ that welcome LGBTQ+ souls. According to the ONA website, there are more that 350,000 members of this UCC group.

All of the month of June there were pride flags displayed at the front of the church. There was no mistaking the message. All are welcome here. Because of that, our church is the recipient of emails and other communications disparaging our stand on this human right. Our minister read a portion of an email last Sunday. The email stated in very strong terms that by showing our support of LGBTQ+ people, we are offending some in the community who do not agree with our position. Apparently it is this kind of communication that led to us needing a uniformed police officer to patrol church during our service. Sad but true. The officer starts today.

Earlier this week I had a meeting with our minister, Kevin. I have told him about being a Unity prayer chaplain, and how I miss those opportunities to pray out loud with others. He told me there used to be a prayer ministry loosely organized and featuring members of the congregation who volunteered to pray with others at church. Like so many things that disappeared during the COVID pandemic, this ministry died off and has never been reinstated. 

I asked him if I could talk to him about this volunteer opportunity to provide a small prayer program. We set a meeting to discuss how that might look. I shared some details about the role of a prayer chaplain in Unity congregations. I cautioned carefully that a big part of my training is based on material developed years ago by a Unity minister, material that cannot be used without infringing on copyright issues. The other caution? I told him that I would be a part of anything we create, but would not be in charge of anything other than sharing information about different ways to pray.

Growing up there was very little emphasis on or attention paid to the power of prayer. The first prayer I learned was that terrifying little ditty about laying down to sleep and what might happen if I would die before I woke up. That turned me sour on prayer in general. Then I learned that praying was all about asking God to step in on all kinds of situations, sort out a problem, send money, get me a job, and help the starving children in Africa. In other words, I was a supplicant, reaching to a distant God who was overwhelmingly busy and not likely to get my spiritual voicemail.

Unity has a very different understanding of God’s true location. All living things have a spark of God in us, a God that uses love to power us and the universe. As Jesus said, the Kingdom of God lies within. Along with that comes a series of spiritual powers we all possess. In Unity, we work to recognize those inner strengths and use them to live our best life. 

The best lesson I learned during my 13 years as a Unity congregant was how to pray in an affirmative manner. Charles Fillmore, the co-founder of Unity wrote this about prayer:

“Prayer is more than supplication. It is an affirmation of Truth that eternally exists, but which has not yet come into consciousness. It comes into consciousness not by supplication but by affirmation.” As I talked more about affirmative prayer, Kevin’s eyes lit up. The thought of praying with people and encouraging them to use the strengths within appealed to him. 

In this mode of prayer, rather than petition God for a specific outcome, we pray that the congregant will find the ability to go within, looking for inner strengths and the truth of God’s infinite love and presence. We can pray that there will be a transformation of fear and doubt into peace and confidence. We can keep learning that we meet God inside ourselves when we pray. “Positive prayer is the way to form a permanent attitude of mind that reflects the eternal, benevolent action of God so that we may truly express our nature as children of God, created in God’s image to express God’s likeness here on earth.” (Hypatia Hasbrouck, author of “Handbook of Positive Prayer”.)

Later in this month, Kevin and I will present the congregation with the idea of a prayer ministry. Then, in August I will stay after service to pray with anyone who comes forward. All I know is this: more will be revealed.

07/11/2025

Today’s blog

Lynn  Murphy Mark

A funny thing happened…

I am on a quest these days, one that has to do with something of a makeover. At age 75, everything is a little harder than when I was younger. I mean, I used to be able to shed pounds in no time and work my body as hard as I could at a gym. I’ve belonged to many such establishments and been a very faithful exerciser. In my little twisted thinking mind, the calories I burned at the gym equaled the goodies I could consume that weren’t on my diet, but that’s for another blog.

I freely admit that in many ways over the last few years I have let myself go. The scale has been merciless in its honesty. There’s no denying the numbers, other than to fool myself with some kind of reassurance that my home scale weighs heavier than the one at the doctor’s office. Not sure what sense that exactly makes, since I don’t visit my doctor more than twice a year most years. But, hey, somewhere in there is some logic.

I’m planning a trip to Santa Fe in September and the last few visits have been a little rough for me in terms of my breathing. After all, there is altitude to contend with and maybe a scintilla less oxygen at that height. When I lived there, I could exercise vigorously on my elliptical and not feel a thing. Like I said, at 75 things are different. However, the real reason for my troubles has to do with how I have let myself become fairly out of shape.

Thus my quest. I have been pretty faithful this last year at walking half an hour a day. I have re-learned the benefits of any kind of exercise and I know very well that my day just feels more complete if I’ve had at least 30 minutes of some kind of movement. But just walking isn’t going to prepare me for any kind of gentle hiking at 8,000 feet.

Lately I have been visiting the very convenient work out room at our condo. It is less than 100 steps from my living room to the room that has weights, and treadmills, and two ellipticals, always my favorite go-to machines. I am building up time spent by adding a minute a day and increasing the level of difficulty one notch a day. Today I’ll be up to 35 minutes at level 5. I’m slow, but steady and I work up a good sweat.

My favorite part of exercise is the music that I have blasting through my ear buds. The louder the better. And my workout singing buddies are the classics. Aretha Franklin, Bob Seeger, Ozomatli, James Taylor, Dixie Chicks, Stevie Wonder, and Lyle Lovett, to name a few. Music makes the time fly. And my body moves in rhythm, mostly. I love all of my workout playlists for the energy and fun they give me as I sweat it out. 

The funny thing that happened, the thing that cracked me up, was listening to the lyrics of a couple of my favorite Lyle Lovett songs. Somehow my mind wandered onto the subject of what kind of playlist I want for my memorial service. In the past I have thought that playing all of Handel’s Messiah would do just fine. But yesterday, I changed my mind. There are two of Lyle’s songs whose words sum up what it has been like to be me. One goes like this:

“I’ve had an excellent time so far. There’s only one thing that I fear – I’ve been up so long on this lucky star…it could be all downhill from here…” The other send-off song is a silly, makes-no-sense one. “If I had a boat, I’d go out on the ocean. If I had a pony, I’d ride him on my boat…kiss my ass, I bought a boat, I’m going out to sea!” The thought and the words made me laugh out loud.

No worries, I don’t think this will happen any time soon. But at 75? Quien sabe? So I want people to know that I’ve had a wonderful ride, and that I’m going out to the greatest sea of all when I leave here. This makes me smile.

07/09/2025

Today’s blog

Lynn Murphy Mark

Queer Eye

Once I was visiting the Momoh household, maybe in 2018 or so. I remember that Cameron was still a very young baby and Jackie and I were taking advantage of his quiet sleep to get some television viewing time. She told me she had discovered a new show that she was pretty sure I would like. They had Netflix as a streaming service, so we switched into that account and searched “Queer Eye”. 

I thought the name of the show was curious and vaguely remembered there had been a fashion show once called “Queer Eye for the Straight Guy”. I didn’t watch that show so I had no frame of reference and didn’t know what to expect. It turns out that the new show was vastly different in that it moves well beyond the issues of fashion. 

The premise of the show is this: a friend or family member refers a person to the guys in the show, known as the Fab Five. Usually the referral is made because the person in question is rooted in a difficult situation. It might be social awkwardness, poor self-care, loss of purpose, unfulfilled dreams. Sometimes it’s all of these and friends and family are concerned for the person in question. In all cases, it’s clear that a makeover would be an act of human caring. The Queer Eye team reviews the applications and chooses who they will visit for a life-changing week of work.

There are five men that do the work. They are all gay, most are in same-sex marriages, and some have children they are raising when they aren’t on the road. For most of the seasons, they work in one location and film 9 or 10 episodes. They’ve been in Atlanta, New Orleans, Philadelphia, Las Vegas, once in Tokyo, and others that I don’t remember. Each episode unveils the work they do with their selected participant and their friends and families.

Here are my five favorite guys: Karamo, Tan, Jeremiah, Jonathan, Antoni. Each man has a specialty and spends a lot of time with the nominee to help develop a plan for the week. They spend hours at a time with each client using their special skills. 

Karamo is the “psychologist” who assesses through deep conversation with the person just what are the biggest social factors that are holding the person back. He has the ability to bring out the most vulnerable aspects of the person’s life and to discuss them kindly but frankly. It’s amazing how he can get people to open up and share their deepest fears and regrets. Then he helps them find a realistic perception of what they are capable of, and they make a plan together.

Tan is a stunningly handsome man who is the fashion/body image miracle worker. His work comes in as a kind and supportive way to look at appearance as something that can be improved. The people he works with almost always have self-image issues. By the time he is finished helping them find the kind of clothes that express who they really want to be. It’s amazing how many people start out in ratty shorts and t-shirts and end up in clothes that accentuate their best features. As he works with each one they become confident and interested in improving their appearance.

Jeremiah is relatively new to the show. He is in charge of making changes in the person’s home. He gets to know the person’s desires for their home and work environment. The person leaves their home for the week, only to come home to a stunning new environment. Whole rooms change character completely and a messy, neglected home becomes a place where the person can entertain and have pride in their surroundings. 

Jonathan is the hair and self-care expert. His pronouns are they and them. He is likely to dress in a flowing gown and heels while sporting a trimmed beard and beautiful long hair. He is the one that can talk about how hard it is to fit in to a society that has definite expectations of what is an acceptable appearance. He works magic with hair of all kinds. When the person turns around to see the transformation in the mirror it is a very very happy moment for all concerned.

Antoni is the quietest. He is all about self-care in the realm of diet and exercise. People who have given up on cooking for themselves suddenly become new chefs in their refurbished kitchens. For Antoni, cooking is an art and an expression of love. By the end of the show, the person is planning a culinary event for friends and family.

Those are my five fabulous guys. I love the show because of its honest looks at how easy it is to fall into a routine that doesn’t really suit who a person truly is. The five guys can turn someone’s life around in a short span of time. This is a joyful show where there is also a place for tears and compassion. I highly recommend any of the nine seasons, found on Netflix.