Held - in the Light

Questa Vita

As you are
where you are
beauty exists

You may shift
be lifted
be moved
Brokeness will come
it may last
yet stubbornly
life reaches
for the Light

In each season
through each season
changes, growth
The unexpected
unexplained

Roots
of your story
in the soil of your soul
held
always held
known
crafted
given space to grow
by Them

by branches
grafted
entwined
holding
lifting
honoring

What If

The following song is not only beautiful truth, but it was the truth I needed to hear this morning. Thanks to CowPi Journal for this:

What if I climbed that mountain
What if I swam to that shore
What if every battle was victorious
Then would you love me more?
Would you love me more?

What if I were everyone’s first choice
What if I went farther than before
What if I stood high above the restThen would you love me more?
Would you love me more?

Chorus:
You say I belong to You
Apart from the things I do
You say I belong to You
I’m in awe of why You do
Why You do, why You do
I’m in awe of You, aah

What if I ignored the hand that fed me
What if I forgot to confess
What if I stumbled down that mountainT
hen would you love me less?
Lord, would You love me less?

What if I were everyone’s last choice
What if I mixed in with the rest
What if I failed what I passed before
Then would you love me less?
Lord, would you, would you love me less?

chorus
What have I done to deserve
Your son sent to die for me?
What can I giveI want to live
Give me eyes to seeIn a world that keeps changin’
There’s one thing that I know is true
Your love is stayin’
There’s nothing else I’ll hold onto

chorus
The way You love meThe way You do…
— Jadon Lavik

Tell My Heart

When we are excited it is easy to look into the eyes of others. When the pain grows within it is easier to avoid looking into others eyes - hiding our true feelings becomes the shield. It is so much easier to stand with my back to Abba and shout at the world outside to release the anger or hurt.

Yesterday the Spirit within whispered to me:
Why do you turn your back? I, Abba, am right here behind you. Can't you turn around and let me hold you? Come and let me wrap my arms around you, hold you close, where you can put your head upon my heart. Tell my heart those words you want to shout out. Come on, tell it directly to my heart. It won't hurt me but it will help heal you. If it is painful to look me in the eye that is not offensive to me. What is hurtful to me is when you don't want me to see your heart. So I'll hold you next to mine - talk straight to my heart. Tell it all you want to - it's big enough to take it!

Straight to the heart - from the wounded one to the healing One. Letting out the story made room for the balm to be applied. Somehow I sense the fragrance of that balm today as I rest my soul next to Abba's heart.

Nigerian Agony

Photo from BBC News in Pictures

Neritia has a powerful article here on Africa, written by a woman who knows that Continent, loves it, lives in it, and helps us understand more.

Standing At the Edge

At the edge

Standing
at the end of today
at the edge of tomorrow
the place where one can retreat
or move deeper into the endless expanse
of hope, of purpose.
The tide will endlessly ebb and flow
day will become twilight
night will become dawn
a new day will be born
Sand
will sift through our hands
swirl round our feet,
remind us life is not ours to hold.
The cold of the sea will embrace us
or turn us away, pursue us.
Yet the wind will still call,
still move the tides, the waves, the water
in an everlasting, never ending movement.
Choices -
to stand
to stay
to move
to dance
to live
inspite of the unknowns
because of the mystery.
Footprints
will be made
should you stand
if you stay
more if you move
be imperfect yet beautiful if you dance
in duet with the Divine
when you accept the invitation
offered today,
extended tomorrow.
At the edge of today
on the cusp of tomorrow.

The Marginalized

The tragedy in London, the starvation in Asia and Africa, the abuse of children in every country of the world, the escalating abuse of women, tribals wars, "freedom" wars that make one think we have misplaced the meaning of "freedom".

At Linwood House Ministries we talk about "the broken, the poor and the hurting" which leaves none of us out. We have been travelling with teams of women into Eastern Europe for the last 4 years, reaching out to women who have had no where to tell their story. The largest percentage of sex slave trade women are young girls brought out of Eastern Europe with the promise of work.

The AIDS count in downtown eastside Vancouver is the second highest, per capita, to Africa. But Eastern Europe has a huge problem with HIV/AIDS that the world is not hearing much about. This article Abuses over HIV "rife" in Russia gets my attention.
HIV-positive Russian women and their children face widespread discrimination and abuse, Human Rights Watch reports.
Children born to HIV-positive women are often segregated in Russia for no medical reason, the rights group says.
The report criticises "the very real discrimination" the women and children face - often from healthcare providers.
HIV-positive women interviewed by the group's researchers reported being verbally abused by doctors and nurses, or even being denied treatment altogether.
Plea for action
A health ministry official quoted in the report admitted that segregating children with HIV was a violation of their rights and "enforces the stigma society attaches to the disease".
Human Rights Watch urged the Russian government to prioritise measures to end such discrimination and address the issue publicly.
It complained that so far the "meagre" resources put into the battle against HIV/Aids had done little to educate the public or halt the spread of the epidemic.
Russia has some 300,000 HIV-positive people, according to government data. But Russian and foreign experts estimate the true number to be closer to one million.

Leoprosy was the disease that people shrank from in Jesus day, now it is HIV/AIDS. My heart is aching for these women, these children in Eastern Europe.

David said "Lord we know you will protect the oppressed", but this morning I am not so sure because all I see is the vulnerability of the oppressed, the broken, the poor and the hurting and how those in places of power, places that should be safe, oppress and marginalize them to a greater degree. In Eastern Europe one of the most unsafe places for them to go is the Christian Church because the legalistic view lacks grace and stands in judgment. For this I am angry!

This morning I feel helpless, I feel angry and yet I know there are people who are making the difference, one person at a time. Perhaps I am just overwhelmed by the magnitude of the pain I know is there, that I see around me, and realize I can do so little.

Remembering Summer

Summer time memories

playing kick the can until dark
catching tadpoles and bringing them home
finding salamanders
hot summer afternoons without a breeze and the cicadas singing
sandals and bathing suits
backyard swimming pools
hot dogs, hamburgers, chips, watermelon and kool-aid
picking blackcurrents and helping Grandma make jam
Dairy Queen chocolate dipped cones
picnics, potato salad and boiled eggs
blue, yellow, pink and green melmac picnic dishes in the old wicker basket
sleeping in and staying up late
multiple trips to the library and oodles of time to sit and read
family, friends, cousins

These are a few of my favorite things to remember of childhood summers.

The Artist Within

Secretly, for years, I have dreamed of being an artist. Outwardly, for years, I have believed I had been by-passed when God gave out artistic talent. Why - because I could not, cannot, draw or paint. And where did this idea come from? In grade 3 art class we were asked to paint a picture and the more I tried to paint something that resembled what was in my mind the more paper were scrunched up and tossed. Finally turning over the paper I discovered the wonder of mixing colours and was amazed at the result of my various combinations. The teacher on the other hand, furious that I had not painted a “picture”, told me how stupid I was and sent me off to the Principal to be disciplined! In that instant I knew I had no artistic talent and was disciplined and shamed for it.

First let me tell you where this train of thought came from. I will soon be attending a course on Story at Mars Hill Graduate School. One of the preparatory exercises is to look at statements made in our childhood that seem insignificant yet have profoundly affected how we see ourselves. My Grade 3 art teachers’ comment has never been forgotten.

Wes Roberts forwarded this quote by Arthur Lismer:
“Inside each one of us is an artist and that’s what an artist is…a child who has never lost the gift of looking at life with curiosity and wonder. Art is not the exclusive possession of those who can draw, write, make music or design buildings. It belongs to all those who can see their way through all things with imagination.”

How many of us have believed what Lismer says and felt art was only paintings or drawings? Do we not all have the ability to be an artist as we open ourselves to seeing it?

My relationship with Abba often takes me into the “art studio” for tutelage with the Maestro (teacher, music director, art tutor). This piece, written almost a year ago reflects agonizing soul pain to which smashing my soul seemed the only release. Ah, the Divine Maestro refused to destroy the work begun, but instead chose to remove the plaster round my heart and invited me to spend more time in the studio. Here the Master Artist could breathe life, colour, passion, fresh life and creativity into me. Often great artists are referred to in tandem with “the Master” who taught them. The hours spent, the discipline learned, the passion released under the watchful eye of a master artist who has mentored students and encouraged them to step out and become known in their own right. Are we willing to become apprentices with this Maestro, Master of the Universe?

Who is the artist within you? Who is the artist within me? How is the apprenticeship going? Within our stories what has prevented the artist from producing pieces for those around us to enjoy? One woman courageously explores and writes here about Canvases, Brushes’n Paints.
I acknowledge that I am an artist - I create with food, my camera, with my writing and at times with music. The learning process with my Divine Maestro is freeing my heart, soul and body to release creativity as I am breathed on by the Divine breathing of the Spirit. Can others look at this art and know under whose tutoring it was learned? Does it reflect the Maestro? More than that, the Divine breathing of the Spirit is to inspire every person who comes to the Maestro and asks, whispers, cries out for freedom that will release the artist within.

Quote de jour

Time is the coin of your life. It is the only coin you have, and only you can determine how it will be spent. Be careful lest you let outher people spend it for you.

Carl Sandburg

Summer flavour for Zucchini

Zucchini will soon be in abundance in the garden, or maybe yours already is. Here is just one quick idea for some variety to your summer veggies.

Slice your zucchini and then half those slices. Saute them in a little hot olive oil and add some finely sliced onion. When it is the tenderness you like, sprinkle with salt, then a dash of balsamic vinegar and then add a handful of freshly chopped mint.

It tastes great with rice when you have added a cinnamon stick, bay leaf and a spoonful of coconut milk to your rice when you cook it.

I had made an old recipe of meatballs in tomato soup (comfort food when I was a child) and so I added cummin, fresh mint, cinnamon, fresh ginger along with ginger chili sauce to the meat ball mixture.

It was a quick dinner, with a slightly exotic aroma and just something different.

Mint is the secret to this particular dinner.

Enjoy - if you feel like trying it.

Listening to the Lord of the Dance

Friday evening was the windup concert for the Sun shine Coast School of Celtic Music. It was toe tapping, body swaying kind of music, and the cool evening breeze must have carried the songs out into the trees. We wrapped blankets round our knees and sat back to enjoy.

Celtic music tells a story with every note - it is what traditional music is all about. Every culture has stories passed down through the unwritten music that is taught to each generation.

The movie Songcatchers tells about a musicologist who heads up into the Appalachians to record the "stories" that have never been heard down in the valley.

At the concert I was carried away when one artist played his composition "The Flight of the Stars" which came into being during his pilgrimage on the 1100 year old El Camino de Santiago. Watching cellist Christine Hanson play this sensuous instrument, her body and bare feet moving expressively with the story was exquisite. Young people held their violins tucked under their chin, bow held slightly higher up than is normal for classical violin, fabulous guitar playing along with flautist Chris Norman, added to the beauty of the stories given in the notes. Stories that breathed life and energy into the evening air, drawing you mind, body and heart into the story these ancient, and new, melodies tell.

One evening this past week my friends and I attended a Ceilidh where the lively tunes and Celtic dancing had men, women and children of all ages dancing together. None of us had the steps perfect, and we all laughed our way through each set. As with the stories told in traditional music, Celtic included, the dance is not perfectly choreographed. We danced with energy and unabashed freedom, learning the steps as we went. This dance floor equalized the abilities of the young and the old, drawing us all to participate in the moment, mind, body and heart! It was a moment to authentically celebrate life while the story continues to be written.

Sydney Carter wrote Lord of the Dance. As I reflects on the Appalachian stories of the movies Songcatchers, of the Celtic musicians, of various traditional music, it really does remind me that the Maestro of Life, the Lord of the Dance has set my feet tapping this week! And thank you Angela and Candice for a wonderful week of music that came as we told our own stories. The dance sort of just happens in the midst of living through the ordinary.

What do you believe?

Sydney Carter's faith is seen in this piece from his poem "Interview"
So what do you believe in? Nothing fixed or final, all the while I travel a miracle. I doubt, and yet I walk upon the water.

Good Tidbit

One's life begins to slope downward when one becomes an "expert". Postmodern pilgrims are not "experts" in anything. Pilgrims are students of everything and everyone. Pilgrims never graduate. We are students sitting lifelong, and one day eternity-long, at Jesus' feet.

Leonard Sweet
Soul Salsa
page 63

Dreaming in the Epicurean Realm

My one room apartment is a busy place this week. One friend is staying here until she finds her own apartment in a season of change, two others are bunking in while they attend the Celtic School of Music this week, and together we are like school girls camping out, staying up late, drinking tea and sharing stories.

So last night we got to talking about food. Surprise surprise that epicurean conversations happen in my home!!! Anyhow they were all laughing at me when I shared how absolutely glorious it is to stand in a market, see the plethora of fresh produce, the colours, the fragrances, the textures, and imagine what I could create in the kitchen with what is in my line of vision. This lead us then to discussions of writing articles connecting food and the spiritual life, or cooking and making life parallels as we created...on and on we went. The brain cells were connecting at a rapid pace.

Angela laughed and said "what would you do with the crab in the fridge"? Ah just think, sauté some shallots, then make a white wine sauce, add some fresh asparagus and the crab. Then place it in a crepe, wrapping it up and topping it off with some asiago cheese, pop it under the grill and serve with butter lettuce and a chilled glass of Gewürztraminer white wine.

Stand in the market place and see the fresh produce and what could you create? Fresh artichokes stuffed with garlic and steamed until tender then drizzle extra virgin olive oil over them. Forget about cutlery - just eat them and enjoy putting each leaf into your mouth and savouring the texture and flavour. Crunchy cucumbers with feta cheese and olive oil. Or arugola and cherry tomatoes with a touch of salt and fresh lemon juice. Look at those colours and the fragrance! Oh mama mia, the combinations are endless.

I would love to show girls how to create and let their senses come alive as they wander through a market, find glorious foods and then create. I would love to have a huge garden full of organic produce and show them how this is our life; the seasons, the weeds, the unexpected, the surprises, the new growth and the harvesting, the laughter and the tears, as well as community. To understand how rosemary can clear your thinking with its pungent aroma, and how a hint of it in a lemon sauce with capers makes chicken seem exotic. To chop fresh parsley, ingest the nutritious iron content as well as enjoy the fresh texture when it is mixed with tomatoes, shallots, salt, lemon juice and olive oil. Colours that are true. Flavours that are real. Food value that is authentic and healthy. With a little knowledge, heaps of creativity and a few ounces of creativity, just add passion and you have an endless epicurean adventure.

At the same time it would be marvellous for them to learn to love their body, not to punish it with media ideas, but to love how they are created, and thereby honor it with good healthy choices for the palate.

You aren't sleeping well? Let's pick some lavender, wrap it in a piece of cloth and place it on your pillow. Crazy hectic day - why don't we put some sprigs of rosemary in the room so their aroma can calm you. Or in the evening throw them in the bathtub, light some candles and soak in this fragrance and be calmed. Anxiety leaving your stomach upset? Come on in and we will brew a tea with fennel seeds and a bay leaf to settle it down. Or why don't we throw a handful of mint leaves into the tea pot, let them sit in the boiled water for a few minutes and then sip a calming cup of mint tea - with absolutely no caffeine or preservatives. Our garden can provide for us on many levels.

Sorry I got carried away with my dreaming there but really, one day I will move more into teaching the younger generation how to respect, honor and love this art form that sustains and nurtures our body, mind and spirit. After all, I really will need something to do in the far away time of retirement - won't I??

An Invitation

Part of my artistic creativity is working with food and much of my work involves putting to use my training in that area. When the invitation to dinner is offered, the aroma of the meal is a component in that offer to dine. One of the most meaningful gifts for me to receive is an invitation to dine with you. A shortage of invitations can be a painful overlooking for those on the outside of any circle.

Reading this post Manifesto touched some places inside for me. Tears, unexpected tears from hidden places have surprised me this week, coming from some mysterious place, seemingly from an invitation I was not aware of extending. But one the Spirit urged me to accept.

There are invitations we are eager to accept and others we just as eagerly wish to decline! Invitations to wholeness, to moving forward, to saying yes to the hard work necessary to healing don't come with a time and expiry date - they are ongoing, and may be lifelong, but they are also life giving. The invite may be to stay in the unhealthy places, to look back or to go back to the past and remain there. Fear, security and comfort can keep us from accepting the invitation to move through and go forward. I wonder why we tend to choose "less than" in life - could it be that we have no concept of how deeply we were created for "greater than"? Watching those who are choosing "less than" for relationships" is hard, and harder still realizing that they have refused the offer to look at, and correct that past then move into "greater than" living.

When we receive an invitation to an event we are not comfortable with we usually have no problem in declining to go. Yet when old pain, old wounds, old lies begin to run around in our head, or we are drawn into old discussions that we know try to take our heart out, we do not promptly decline this invitation to engage. All too quickly many of us are willing to take the less than choice and go backwards as opposed to choosing the greater than road where we move forward, move through, and away from the road that destroys our heart, mind and body.

Perhaps what stirred me most in the post that Wilsonian wrote was with it (for me) came an old offer - to sit in the what if's and the if only of my story. Accepting it brings in the old lies, the untruths of the past, the old pain, and the spaces that deny grace and honor to this journey. Looking at lost dreams but refusing the invitation to sit there opened the window to Ruach - to the invitation from the Spirit to dialogue. In that speaking/conversing/praying and spreading out of books in front of me, these following authors gave some life-giving invitations, gold embossed requests to choose "greater than":

When the Well Runs Dry: Thomas H Green, S.J.
Love is a dialogue, and we cannot have a dialogue unless both persons are speaking. Moreover, as St. Ignatius Loyola points out in Spiritual Exercises, this is a dialogue of actions more than of words. Ignatius says that love is shown more in deeds than in words, and that genuine love involves a mutual exchange of gifts. Even in loving God we are givers as well as receivers.
- an invitation to dialogue, to seek love, in prayer
- an invitation to give my gifts to Abba, and receive some of His

Embodied Prayer: Celeste Snowber
There is an old Hebrew proverb that says "put something where you can see it so your eye will remind your heart." Movement reminds our eye so our heart will be reminded.
- the invitation to LIFE reminds my heart it is worth it, keep going
- the invitation to have my heart, my head and my body involved in living.

A Hidden Wholeness: Parker Palmer
Wholeness does not mean perfection: it means embracing brokenness as an integral part of life. Knowing this gives me hope that human wholeness - mine, yours - ours need not be a utopian dream, if we can use devastation as a seedbed for new life.
- the invitation to embrace the brokenness for there-in is found hope
- the invitation to reality means new growth

The Return of the Prodigal Son: Henri Nouwen
Without trust, I cannot let myself be found. Trust is that deep inner conviction that the Father wants me home. As long as I doubt that I am worth finding and put myself down as less loved than my young brothers and sisters, I cannot be found. I have to keep saying to myself 'God is looking for you. He will go anywhere to find you. He loves you, he wants you home, he cannot rest unless he has you with him'.
- the invitation to be found, loved and my heart continue journeying towards home.

Galatians 6: 14,15 Paul
Because of that Cross, I have been crucified in relation to the world, set free from the stifling atmosphere of pleasing others and fitting into the little patterns that they dictate.
It is what God is doing, and he is creating something totally new, a free life!"
- the invitation to freedom, to living in a new way.
- an invitation to exchange the less thans for the greater than.

John 14: 25-27 Jesus
The Friend, the Holy Spirit whom the Father will send at my request, will make everything plain to you. He will remind you of all the things I have told you. I'm leaving you well and whole. That's my parting gift to you. Peace. I don't leave you the way you're used to being left - feeling abandoned, bereft. So don't be upset. Don't be distraught.
- the invitation to be whole, to not walk alone, for new patterns to be established, because of the Spirit within.

Within the minutes and hours of this day, invitations have been issued. Practice helps us choose the greater than and decline the less than.

Holy Spirit I invite you to continue living here within me, not as a guest but as a full time resident. I invite you Jesus to continue the work you began, and that you have promised to complete within my heart, mind and body, for more love and grace to flow from me. I invite you Abba to Father me more, I open my heart to let you Father me in your perfect way. Master of the Universe, Almighty - you invited us to praise you with all our breath. I accept your invitation. I RSVP for this life, and for eternity, to all you have planned.