“Grace Upon Grace”: A Tribute to Nancy Wieman Hall

Three years ago, Nancy asked me if I would capture her life story so she could read it as a speech to a women’s group. She said she “knew no better writer”. This obviously meant a lot to me (and made me very nervous about my work), but as I interviewed her and made notes – I realized something about my writing: it writes as the character speaks. I remember working on her speech and hearing her exact words and pacing in my mind.

Sadly, I didn’t see Nancy in the final months of her life. I keep checking in on that reality, expecting to find guilt – but it is not there. There is this peace. This awareness that – in some ways – my friendship with Nancy is only just beginning as I hear her even now.

Enjoy this speech – she said she imagined it could also be used to eulogize her, so it only seems fitting to share it with you all today, as we celebrated her faithful life. Rest in peace, my dear sister in Christ. In your service today, I felt God’s four letter word for you: MINE ❤️

Grace Upon Grace

Photographs of friends and family, passed around like a bowl of popcorn on a Saturday night – inviting stories, traditions and enjoyment of one another.

Comforting quilts made by my grandmothers – whose hands and attention stitched us together across time. 

How wonderful it is to have these pillowcases and quilts, threaded with even God’s mercy, as they have comforted us each in our personal needs and rest.

In my home you’ll find stacks of books upon “gotcha books” – each thoughtful in ways that really make you wonder. 

A favorite tradition of mine is to find a Christmas book to read aloud and share with others whether at our cherished PEO Christmas Program or gathered in my home for coffee. 

Doing so, a present which also brings us present, like children, to absorb the many ways God speaks to us. 

No matter how old you get – you are always a child. 

A child able to embrace that joy is always on the way. 

A child able to allow the little things – like the reflection light makes through cut glass – to spark joy like that which comes in the morning with the gift of another day.

Angels and fishing trips – 

Music and friendships – 

Like a Christmas tree is with its ornaments, my heart is full with gratitude for my favorite things; the things that make me smile.

So, now – let’s let them tell you about Nancy Hall. 

My Family and My Names:

An only child, I was born “Nancy” (“like a bell” my daddy would say) in 1936 to Edwin and Eleanor Weidman. 

A daughter and granddaughter, as time went on, my names grew to include “Ms. Weidman” as I was to my music students. 

A date to the mini opera led me to be “Girlfriend”, then “Wife” to Leon. 

And, of course, I became “Mother” to David and Melissa. 

The four of us share many memories enjoying Saint Louis, where our love of the Cardinals – which for me goes back to ballgames with my daddy – and our Muny seats have remained the same over the years. 

To be mother, to be wife. So very grateful am I for the gift of receiving a name. 

A gift a specific person brings you to be.

I became “Mother in Law” to David’s wife, Caroline, and Melissa’s husband, Jeff.

I am “Nana” to Catherine, David, Daniel and George, and to Julianne, Caroline and Celia. 

The richness of memories traveling with my family: Hilton Head and Westover, Stanford and Sweden, and all the many field hockey tournaments <are rivaled only by the magnitude> of the Grand Canyon – where we also have travelled together.

These memories are precious and as beautiful as a table set with white plates and crystal.

My Travel. 

I remember the jammies I wore on my first train ride. 

Traveling with my mother to Oakland for my daddy’s ship to come in, watching from the window as the landscape changed from the midwestern plains to the rushing streams and mountains of Colorado, until we arrived in California and met its bridges, flowers, sunshine and my first ever apricot. 

Whether it was the people I befriended or the wonderful places I went, travel became a gift I would experience over and over again in my life. 

Sunday afternoon cruises with daddy in the car around town became Sunday afternoon cruises up <the river in Prague> with Leon. <placeholder for the 10 year Passion play in Germany, World’s Fair, music festivals, National Parks, visiting relatives tie together>

The wonderful people I would meet in all the different places – each with their own story, each of them ordinary, each of them children… 

Experiencing people on a human level grows you, you see, because they are as you are. 

My travels and my friendships did exactly that. And I am thankful. 

My Friendships. 

“Make new friends, but keep the old.”

Your friends are the ones who know your stories. 

I have always made friends easily, all my life.

Camp friends and school friends, church friends, Bible Study Fellowship and PEO and of course those who share my love of music…

…what a gift it is to have a friend who can bring you back to yourself and to certain parts of your life with a letter, shared memory or a kind smile. 

The first angel in my collection is a gift from my high school music teacher who befriended me. 

After a concert where the choir sang “Glory to God” <in exuberance> from the rafters, my teacher gave me a conductor angel – a memento bringing together worship, friendship and music. 

This memento began a lifelong hobby of collecting and receiving angels.

My Angels.

Wood, crystal, porcelain and metal – my collection of angels are made up of all different materials and are a treasure to me. 

Filling my home, each one has a story of origin, chosen by me for its face or given to me by a thoughtful friend.

Angels are the messengers of God, and though the many angels in my home celebrate this: 

I do not need these angels to know that the Lord speaks directly and personally….

My Faith

// God giveth free – 

light from above –

cometh to me – 

that I may tell others the joy in this place – 

seeking upon knowing – 

grace upon grace – //

The gift of a name has been given to me by others. 

Maturity given to me by travel and experience. 

Friends have given me angels and stories. 

But the Lord? 

The Lord has given me the gift of a song in the night. 

A song in the night, that came in exact melody and <lyrical form>, a demonstration of how well God knows his children. 

That we can receive such gifts unique to our individual lives is so special. 

Your life shows your priorities. 

When I look back on my life, from my earliest days involved in the church – looking down the pew on <Sunday morning> for my various family members to later in life finding family in church community – such as my Wednesday CoreGroup, I know my time has been spent cherishing where God, friends and music come together giving Glory to God. 

Glory to God. May it be so. 

For Jesus loves me. This I do know. 

Sweet like Christmas cookies and the countenance our faces have upon them, 

I cherish the special season of Christmas and the times we gather together – 

for what better way to give Glory to God, than with friends? 

GIVE – a four letter word. 

Like KNOW and like GROW, 

And so it begins – 

I look for four letter words as a practice of my faith. 

UPON

SEEK

KIND

And 

LOVE

These four letter words connect me to God and greater things above. 

// Love God and your brother – 

And live to serve and give – 

That you may be just and worthy – 

By the Christlike life you live // 

Grace upon Grace, even my name “Nancy” celebrates this gift. 

Comforting like my grandmothers quilts, the thought of grace, my spirit lifts. 

I am so very thankful. 

For Jesus – 

He loves me. 

This I do know. 

Glory to God. 

May it be so.

Thinking Back

I was thinking back on some blogging I did in 2021 related to training the brother and sister dogs we adopted. Seemingly in the constant pursuit of “what I write about” or “what I share about”, I wondered back then whether or not dog training was going to end up being “my thing”.

It’s comical now, 4 years later, with dogs who absolutely go ape shit at the fence for a german shepherd (they looooove a german shepherd). The only thing that makes any of that noise easier to swallow is the fact the sister dog jumps and barks while the brother dog stands with paws on the fence. It is as comical as it is absolutely irritating to the bone.

I have been near obsessively working on my program that has, at this point, been received by over five hundred people over the course of its existence and acknowledged by many as having “changed their life”. Holy shit – I realize – my approach to dealing with my own human emotions in order to give my life some purpose and not think everything is in vain has supported other people’s ability to do the same?

“I should really do something with this”, I think, “…then I could hire a dog trainer.” lol

And the truth is – I am thinking about it. I am doing it. I am recording and I am writing and I am creating every single week – something new – something old repurposed. How does it all come together? How do I start? Oh I am already started. What do I do.

I have so much faith in all of this, honestly. But the belief in right timing is only as good as the dedication to practice and use of right energy.

To do the things you love to do. To be the places you love to be. To allow the way you love to feel. It’s nooooooot always easy when you are covered in news and buried in headlines. It’s not always the first thing you think of “I love today!I love my life” when there are so many people dying and drowning in fear. BUT. HOW will it get better if the artists don’t art?!?

How will culture evolve in the creators don’t create?!

How will justice reign if the makers don’t make and the builders don’t build and the – what else – shakers don’t shake?

lol Taylor Swift nod.

Sigh. So – here I am, with my new Buddha (that honestly looks like me and my siblings likeness), my cat and my geraniums here in the middle of October ready for everything that is next. Are you ready for what is next?

Tell me honestly. Please – are you excited about your life? Do you feel purpose in today? Why or why not. Lay it on me.

Give me something to think about. ✌🏽erin

woman cat and buddha and geraniums set out to change the world on a wednesday october morning

Things are Sacred “Before They Are Beautiful”

I spent the last week in Green Cay, U.S. Virgin Islands in creative process, in conversation and – ultimately – in exploration of the deeper colors of life. What does it mean to be surrounded by beauty? What does it mean to be resourced by the earth?

Blessed be the Creator God – who made the heavens and the earth. 2 Chronicles 2:12

Part of this exploration was related to how, on an island, you celebrate the rain for filling up the cisterns, you wait for the sun to power up the panels before you do your laundry. This coordination with nature is and of itself a deeply desired internal rhythm I know I have, but I truly think we all have in our innate humanity.

What child doesn’t want to love and feel love from its mother?

Being in community with women who not only lived this way, but discussed which fish were eating which fish, increasing the big fishes’ mercury and who marveled over who had what trees growing on their property was nourishing and replenishing. Like rain to the cistern of my heart :)

Waking up this morning in the midwest with the type of tan I have found you really only get in St. Croix, I walked my garden similar to how I walked Samadhi by the Sea, the garden of my beautiful host for the week, Riya – a chakra oriented artist whose sculpture garden served as the key dwelling place for me and my creative spirit.

My garden – with it’s patchy weirdness, spiraling thin weeds and a serious need of mulch looked much different than Samadhi by the Sea. Thoughtfully still, I took my prayer beads and charged them by one of my favorite 2025 plantings: a baby rosemary shrub I am going to experiment with sheltering over the winter. I walked my garden slowly, kneeling down, looking carefully – naming what I believe are its main centers.

I moved the lemon eucalyptus and the pineapple sage together (near the “The Stump of Contemplation”) so they could be friends as they will both fruit Christmas gifts for my friends when I harvest their leaves, dry them out and bundle them for smudging gifts later on. I texted a dear family friend and studio member, Kim Joern – a master gardener and herbalist – for insight on my lavender. I danced in my garden when a neighbor stopped on her drive by. I pulled a few more weeds, said a few more prayers, noted a few more tasks and came inside.

One of the takeaways from my trip is a new installation in my vocabulary of the word “sacred” before key nouns in my sentences. Like the gold paperclips I picked up on my first day on island were dubbed sacred paperclips and kept all week in a dish, I started seeing the weird, the unorganized, the unmulched, the unattended parts of my Garden of Knowing as sacred.

My list of next round needs? A sacred rain barrel, small sacred fencing for the hostas… Among other things, of course, like sacred stones.

There is this stoic thought about how you cannot tell an emerald it is beautiful and it all the sudden becomes beautiful. Likewise you cannot tell it is is ugly and it becomes ugly. Rather, the nature of the emerald is that of an emerald, its nature is derived from itself.

As I spent time in my newly appointed sacred garden, in its overgrown honeysuckle and hidden irises, I reflected on how nature simply becomes. It unfolds without rush or definition. More rain does one thing, less rain does another. Early falls do things like late springs, hot summers and cold winters are an active part of the unfolding.

I promised my garden I would write in it. And I saw the process of the gardening serve up a lesson as I walked up the steps again (similar to a 12 hour writing day a few days ago, when I ascended and descended the steps of Samadhi by the Sea over and over and over and over).

“Discipline means walking up the steps again.”

It is my recent finding that the faithfulness to the process seems to be more important than the dedication to the outcome itself.

To allow my garden its sacred nature brought the same wave of gratitude and inspiration, nourishment and knowing as the waves crashing ear’s distance away from the vibrant intentionality of Samadhi by the Sea.

At the 3rd Eye Point, Ajna, the 6th sculpture in Samadhi by the Sea.