The following blessing is by Howard Thurman, entitled "Blessings At Year End".
I remember with gratitude the fruits of the labors of others, which I have shared as a part of the normal experience of daily living.
I remember the beautiful things that I have seen, heard, and felt - some, as a result of definite seeking on my part, and many that came unheralded into my path, warming my heart and rejoicing my spirit.
I remember the moments of distress that proved to be groundless and those that taught me profoundly about the evilness of evil and the goodness of good.
I remember the new people I have met, from whom I have caught glimpses of the meaning of my own life and the true character of human dignity.
I remember the dreams that haunted me during the year, keeping me ever mindful of goals and hopes which I did not realize but from which I drew inspiration to sustain my life and keep steady my purposes.
I remember the awareness of the spirit of God that sought me out in my aloneness and gave to me a sense of assurance that undercut my despair and confirmed my life with new courage and abiding hope.
Found in A Gratefull Heart, pg 81
Monday, December 31, 2007
Friday, November 23, 2007
What Does (Communion) Look Like?
.JPG)
This is a question that I am asking a lot these days regarding many questions and issues in life. There is the theory of things, the technical part of ideas and issues but what does the practical walking out of some of these particulars look like?
The senses have so much to do with how things are known and experienced, yet when this part of our humanness is shut down, it seems that our very soul cannot really “know” and hold onto what an experience truly is. Is that too harsh to say? Is it too dogmatic?
Maybe in a rather convoluted way I am trying to make sense of the shift in some very sacred experiences in my life. Communion is one of the most profound at present: profound because it feels holy and it looks like a sacred moment when I go forward to receive it.
How can it be that something I have done all my life is looking so different through the windows of my mind, my heart and my senses? Something that was such ritual all my life in my exclusive fellowship background, has now become something mystical that moves me to tears each time and I am unable to explain it. This mystical table is calling to me and as I move forward to receive communion my soul is simultaneously dancing and weeping. Why is it when the officiate looks into my eyes and says “this is Jesus body broken for you” that there is a wailing inside me that I keep silent, and a groaning that would have me drop to my knees if I was not so aware of others around me? Could it be that Jesus is becoming very very real and present to me here?
All my life I have taken communion yet never before have my senses been so engaged. Could it be that when one moves out of the numbness of keeping the senses shut down you actually begin to experience God?
Most of my life has been spent in silencing my senses – the very way in which I was created to experience life, breath, love, pain, joy, celebration, ritual and indeed to experience God. For the first 42 years of my life every Sunday was spent in church. For the last 6 years church has become a daily way of life and being and now, with my new husband, I am again attending a church. But now it feels different and it looks different. In the last 6 years the journey of life has taken me to places of such confusion and despair and as Parker Palmer writes, “the illusion has been broken and truth has been found”. I am fiercely passionate about living life as a sensual being: to hear, see, touch, taste, and smell life enough to be thoroughly intrigued by it.
The only way I can really know God, with a knowing that is hidden within me, is by being able to let my senses experiences things like the wind, the breath of God, the presence of the Spirit. To see a day being born and be held enthralled by the colours that are drawn across the horizon from as far as I can see to the left or the right or directly in front of me – then I see God. To see the laughter on the face of a friend whose scars of addiction and prostitution have left her with diseases that are killing her – then I see Jesus who was afraid of no one and whose touch gave dignity and honor to everyone. To hold in my hands the cold, wet sand on the beach and listen to the waves inhale and sigh in a never ending movement and know that some things are just too beyond my understanding yet nevertheless they are very real. When I hold that piece of bread, a symbol of a broken body, I feel how small my life is in this universe, but I am still called tenderly by my own name by the Creator of it.
What does Communion look like? It looks like the sacred table/altar which silently invites me to be part of ritual and know Holy Presence. It is to know my own kitchen as a sacred space where I prepare communion of daily bread for the guests who come to sit there, inviting them to experience life in sacred ways that only the wind of the Spirit can deliver. It also looks like these symbols of bread and wine that were part of the commitment and vows that David and I made to each other a short time ago. Symbols of sacrifice and honor that God shared with us and we are called to share with each other in our marriage.
Monday, November 19, 2007
Deep peace of the running waves to you,
Deep peace of the flowing air to you,
Deep peace of the smiling stars to you,
Deep peace of the quiet earth to you,
Deep peace of the watching shepherds to you,
Deep peace of the Son of Peace to you.
This ancient Celtic blessing is one I have heard often in the last year, and one we chose to have read at our wedding in September. On this day it comes as a gentle wind of truth to me along with Jesus words to his followers (as Mark records it) about the subject of power.
In a recent road trip I heard a radio interview that discussed the subject of women in refuge camps and the stories of rape that continue. Inner rage at this age old story of war has prompted me to do more research on the subject. My first reaction to the interview was that once again women not only seem to be blamed for war, but they pay a lifetime price in that blame. Some not only bear the scars that rape leaves but they must also live with the rejection that their culture puts upon them. WE bear the scars of this – all women wear them as each of us identify at some place in our lives where our own sexuality has been scarred in some way. Rape has been spoken of in biblical stories of war and power struggles, and every war in time has done so. Every place I looked at this subject it is known as a “war crime”, one that is rarely ever brought to a place of justice it seems.
Yet my question is how I hold this crime,those who have been affected by it, those who have inflicted it, and Jesus call to live life being fill with love and peace and letting it flow out from us to all humanity.
Jesus’ friends John and James wanted to know if they could have a place of significance with him in the Kingdom but instead Jesus told them that the place of significance was living life as a servant. In fact he told them off for wanting to hold power.
Power – the hunger for it that leads to war, to abuse, to anything but the peace and love and justice that I am seeing more and more as the heart of God. Peace and justice that is not easy to find in our "Christian" world.
I still don’t know what to do with what I am seeing as this crime of mass destruction to women, and young children. The Deep Peace poem speaks of the earth and the Creator that offer peace – not mankind! As I sit with learning “deep peace” and the One who holds and gives “deep peace” I wait for the Spirit to show me what to do with this knowledge. And as I sit with it I must also continue to hold injustice, these crimes of mass soul destruction, and figure out what “righteous anger” looks like for me
Monday, October 22, 2007
A Touching Place
This last week my tears have been falling, inside, in the bath, in moments that seem to not make sense. But within my soul also is being held those in suffering and pain and I cannot make sense of it. Reading here of "Senseless Violence", it is one more shard of pain to my heart. Why must I hold this? Why would I not hold it and weep with those whose tears flow, or for those who cannot let the tears fall?
Yesterday I heard a song as I went to take Communion, and as my beloved (he was assisting with giving out Communion) came to me with the Cup, he looked into my eyes and reminded me that I am in Christ and Christ is in me ALWAYS. My tears hovered at the edge of my eyes yet didn't fall as I struggled for control. As I walked to and from Communion the song being sung was this:
1. Christ's is the world in which we move,
Christ's are the folk we're summoned to love,
Christ's is the voice which calls us to care,
and Christ is the one who meets us here.
TO THE LOST CHRIST SHOWS HIS FACE;
TO THE UNLOVED HE GIVES HIS EMBRACE;
TO THOSE WHO CRY IN PAIN OR DISGRACE,
CHRIST MAKES, WITH HIS FRIENDS, A TOUCHING PLACE.
2. Feel for the people we most avoid,
strange or bereaved or never employed;
feel for the women, and feel for the men
who fear that their living is all in vain.
3. Feel for the parents who've lost their child,
feel for the women who men have defiled,
feel for the baby for whom there's no breast,
and feel for the weary who find no rest.
4. Feel for the lives by life confused,
riddled with doubt, in loving abused;
feel for the lonely heart, conscious of sin,
which longs to be pure but fears to begin.
written by John Bell
I want my tears to have Christ in them, to have love in them, and yet I cannot understand how to fit it all together. I believe Christ is here, there, in these places and I must trust this to not let love be crowded out by anger at injustice. I must trust that justice does lie with Christ and in that justice is also a love beyond what my heart now knows. I will be willing to feel the pain, to let the tears come, and know Christ has a purpose that is also to change my heart and soul to know justice and Divine love.
Yesterday I heard a song as I went to take Communion, and as my beloved (he was assisting with giving out Communion) came to me with the Cup, he looked into my eyes and reminded me that I am in Christ and Christ is in me ALWAYS. My tears hovered at the edge of my eyes yet didn't fall as I struggled for control. As I walked to and from Communion the song being sung was this:
1. Christ's is the world in which we move,
Christ's are the folk we're summoned to love,
Christ's is the voice which calls us to care,
and Christ is the one who meets us here.
TO THE LOST CHRIST SHOWS HIS FACE;
TO THE UNLOVED HE GIVES HIS EMBRACE;
TO THOSE WHO CRY IN PAIN OR DISGRACE,
CHRIST MAKES, WITH HIS FRIENDS, A TOUCHING PLACE.
2. Feel for the people we most avoid,
strange or bereaved or never employed;
feel for the women, and feel for the men
who fear that their living is all in vain.
3. Feel for the parents who've lost their child,
feel for the women who men have defiled,
feel for the baby for whom there's no breast,
and feel for the weary who find no rest.
4. Feel for the lives by life confused,
riddled with doubt, in loving abused;
feel for the lonely heart, conscious of sin,
which longs to be pure but fears to begin.
written by John Bell
I want my tears to have Christ in them, to have love in them, and yet I cannot understand how to fit it all together. I believe Christ is here, there, in these places and I must trust this to not let love be crowded out by anger at injustice. I must trust that justice does lie with Christ and in that justice is also a love beyond what my heart now knows. I will be willing to feel the pain, to let the tears come, and know Christ has a purpose that is also to change my heart and soul to know justice and Divine love.
Friday, October 19, 2007
Reflection/Quote
"A faith that is afraid of other people is not faith at all. A faith that supports itself by condemning others is itself condemned by the Gospel."
Thomas Merton
Faith and Violence
pg 214
Monday, October 08, 2007
Thanksgiving Monday Prayer
We are grateful.
You have given us this day
and have given us this way
to say Thank You.
We thank you for giving us
what we need to be grateful.
We offer back to You
all that we have
all that we are.
We know our thank you
is as fragile as we are
- it can be crushed by the care of the moment
- it can disappear in the heat of the day
- it can be blown away by the winds of suffering.
And so we ask You
to take our small thank you
into Your great act of Thanksgiving:
You, Lord of the loaves and fishes,
You who are from God
with God and for God,
You in whom it is all
Yes and Amen.
Pg 69/70
"Acting on Gratitude"
from Radical Gratitude by Mary Jo Leddy
You have given us this day
and have given us this way
to say Thank You.
We thank you for giving us
what we need to be grateful.
We offer back to You
all that we have
all that we are.
We know our thank you
is as fragile as we are
- it can be crushed by the care of the moment
- it can disappear in the heat of the day
- it can be blown away by the winds of suffering.
And so we ask You
to take our small thank you
into Your great act of Thanksgiving:
You, Lord of the loaves and fishes,
You who are from God
with God and for God,
You in whom it is all
Yes and Amen.
Pg 69/70
"Acting on Gratitude"
from Radical Gratitude by Mary Jo Leddy
In Pursuit of.....
Where we live is on the mainland but the only way to get to it is by ferry since no road has yet been built through the mountains to our coastal community. The result of this, time wise, is that we need to leave 45 minutes to get to the ferry to be sure to get on it (since some sailings are very crowded) and then you have the 40 minute sail either to our side or over to the City. Reading time or conversation time, or even nap time, can then become very valuable!
My husband and I had recently been into the City for an evening concert and returned home the next morning. One consequence of living at the mercy of a ferry ride is the fact that you cannot return home late in the evening and a hotel cost must be added to your expense in the “big city”. Nevertheless, we were returning home the next morning and had met a friend who had been at a “Pursuit of Excellence” workshop on one of the Gulf Islands. Seminars have been built around this phrase, people register for them to hear how to be successful, to make more money, to rise in status, to receive the accolades desired…on and on it goes.
As David navigated our little car along the narrow seaside road and we drank in the colours of autumn, he told me “I don’t pursue excellence, I pursue average”. I was about to open my mouth with the rapid response “you are not the least bit average” when I realized there was more to his statement that I wanted to hear. Listening to him share how the pursuit of excellence has caused people to become hard hearted, step on others, “rise” and leave others behind, I began to see how excellence and success have become so enmeshed in the corporate world of moving up and on and increasing your salary that it means something different now. Having spent 20 years in the financial world, I grew to hate this term “The Pursuit of Excellence” because of the soul damage I saw it take on my colleagues.
Looking sideways at this man who has a passion for stewarding the earth, and his community, I realized how much the “extra” to “ordinary” described our lives. Living in the “ordinary” and pursuing it is where one finds the exquisiteness of the life we have been given. We have seasons filled with scent and colour, we have roads to travel, people to meet and stories to hear and time to seek solitude and be still. Our own life stories are full of sorrow and joy, colour, music, tensions that challenge us to choose and either remain still or move forward. Even as I write I think of the last few days of stormy weather and sitting in our little house I could hear the duet of a crackling fire that warmed the room, and the wild wind outside that caused the trees to lean this way and that, the leaves to sail through the air and land on the wet grass, and rain that came to a sudden stop as it hit the large windows. Is this ordinary? Perhaps it depends on which concert of life you wish tickets to!
Our meandering drive allowed us to see how much the ordinary life leads us to look at how we are servants in the sense the Jesus modeled where he held us up as opposed to standing on them. It is a life that shows us what our story is and how to honor the stories of those who share them with us. The ordinary life beckons us to take the road less traveled and to travel at the pace that is more about the journey, not the destination. Our senses will be invited to experience life at a deeper level we thought. In this place of ordinary we have found how living simply means finding treasures that cannot be placed in an institution but they are carried in our souls. This deposit is build up and given away every day it seems with a balance remaining.
Thanksgiving weekend in Canada is this time of year. As we sat round our big old table last night with friends, the candles burning, rose petals scattered over the table cloth that was purchased in a street market in Kiev, wine glasses sparkling in the light, bowls of food being passed round and plates being filled, conversation gently unfolding, I could see the colours of extra-ordinary, catch the scent of them, and feel the fullness of contentment. One more glimpse of how rewarding the “pursuit of ordinary” can be and what an “excellent” way of life it is.
My husband and I had recently been into the City for an evening concert and returned home the next morning. One consequence of living at the mercy of a ferry ride is the fact that you cannot return home late in the evening and a hotel cost must be added to your expense in the “big city”. Nevertheless, we were returning home the next morning and had met a friend who had been at a “Pursuit of Excellence” workshop on one of the Gulf Islands. Seminars have been built around this phrase, people register for them to hear how to be successful, to make more money, to rise in status, to receive the accolades desired…on and on it goes.
As David navigated our little car along the narrow seaside road and we drank in the colours of autumn, he told me “I don’t pursue excellence, I pursue average”. I was about to open my mouth with the rapid response “you are not the least bit average” when I realized there was more to his statement that I wanted to hear. Listening to him share how the pursuit of excellence has caused people to become hard hearted, step on others, “rise” and leave others behind, I began to see how excellence and success have become so enmeshed in the corporate world of moving up and on and increasing your salary that it means something different now. Having spent 20 years in the financial world, I grew to hate this term “The Pursuit of Excellence” because of the soul damage I saw it take on my colleagues.
Looking sideways at this man who has a passion for stewarding the earth, and his community, I realized how much the “extra” to “ordinary” described our lives. Living in the “ordinary” and pursuing it is where one finds the exquisiteness of the life we have been given. We have seasons filled with scent and colour, we have roads to travel, people to meet and stories to hear and time to seek solitude and be still. Our own life stories are full of sorrow and joy, colour, music, tensions that challenge us to choose and either remain still or move forward. Even as I write I think of the last few days of stormy weather and sitting in our little house I could hear the duet of a crackling fire that warmed the room, and the wild wind outside that caused the trees to lean this way and that, the leaves to sail through the air and land on the wet grass, and rain that came to a sudden stop as it hit the large windows. Is this ordinary? Perhaps it depends on which concert of life you wish tickets to!
Our meandering drive allowed us to see how much the ordinary life leads us to look at how we are servants in the sense the Jesus modeled where he held us up as opposed to standing on them. It is a life that shows us what our story is and how to honor the stories of those who share them with us. The ordinary life beckons us to take the road less traveled and to travel at the pace that is more about the journey, not the destination. Our senses will be invited to experience life at a deeper level we thought. In this place of ordinary we have found how living simply means finding treasures that cannot be placed in an institution but they are carried in our souls. This deposit is build up and given away every day it seems with a balance remaining.
Thanksgiving weekend in Canada is this time of year. As we sat round our big old table last night with friends, the candles burning, rose petals scattered over the table cloth that was purchased in a street market in Kiev, wine glasses sparkling in the light, bowls of food being passed round and plates being filled, conversation gently unfolding, I could see the colours of extra-ordinary, catch the scent of them, and feel the fullness of contentment. One more glimpse of how rewarding the “pursuit of ordinary” can be and what an “excellent” way of life it is.
Friday, September 28, 2007
.JPG)
Barefoot Freedom Revisited
.JPG)
This week we heard that a good friend of my husband David’s has been diagnosed with breast cancer. With tears on his face he asked me how it is that we are celebrating our new life together while a friend is in such agony in her journey. We spoke of how life holds out to us the pain and the joy together. Henri Nouwen wrote well on this subject in his little book Can You Drink the Cup. He suggests that we must hold both together in our own cup of life and hold it up to celebrate it all.
This morning my husband woke me early to show me how the room was bathed in moonlight and it was a glorious moment, a deeply contemplative moment. As I headed downstairs to sit quietly and wait for the day to be birthed I read the first chapter of Mark – Jesus was all about everyday life and the healing in it. Leaving the Church, a great book by Barbara Taylor Brown, had a line in it (pg 97) “Since true bliss is never more than a hair away from sorrow I learned not to cling to such mornings”. All of these details in this one morning caused me to turn my thoughts again to my life theme of “Barefoot Freedom”.
Walking in bare feet is not easy as our feet are extremely sensitive to temperature, texture, terrain, and the smallest article under our feet can be felt. At least my feet are very sensitive and I have a terrible time standing on uneven terrain without shoes. It has become the symbol of freedom for me; the ability to walk through life with little between my soul and living so that I may feel the joy as much as the sorrow, the pain as much as the celebration and that my heart may hear the truth in words and tears.
In the 9 months David and I have known each other we have experienced such joy in getting to know each other, falling in love and now being married and sharing life. Also in that period of time he has buried his father, a close friend and a cousins’ child (age 11) have died and now a woman my age is facing the battle with breast cancer. My friend, Angi, writes here of her journey with physical pain, and I see my parents aging more rapidly than they should. Yet this tension of living in the celebration and the mourning once again calls me to consider how truly I am living in the freedom of feeling it all with little or nothing between my soul and my heart so I truly listen to both.
Approaching the stage in the centre of our labyrinth where we were to be married I knew I was coming to holy ground. This was a place I wanted to stand with the soul of my feet touching the earth in that walk. The vows to love, to honor, to journey forward as David’s wife also meant, for me, that I would be doing that in barefoot freedom. It is the challenge to live out fully who I am as the Almighty sees and knows me while learning to live with a heart that becomes more like Jesus.
Barefoot freedom holds for me the call to obedience – the call to live, really LIVE life with all that I am knowing that the Light and the dark times both hold Holy Presence, and I must constantly come to that place. This morning I realize that the Spirit is again bringing this call to my attention. I have been caught up in the details of moving my “stuff” into our house and both of us have too much “stuff” for this small space. I don’t do well in clutter and chaos as my husband has observed! I have been letting the “stuff” cling to my soul and get in the way of celebrating moments like being bathed in moonlight, watching the birthing of a new day, or sitting with the pain of life. My metaphorical “work boots” were not what the Spirit has called me to walk in! My bare feet need to feel the earth, to feel life, to feel this season change with all it brings and my heart looks at my own cup of life this morning and holds it out to the Almighty with a grateful heart.
Tuesday, September 25, 2007
Weekly Merton Reflection
The Merton Reflection for the Week of September 24, 2007
When people are truly in love, they experience far more than just a mutual need of each other's company and consolation. In their relations with each other they become different people: they are more than their everyday selves, more alive, more understanding, more enduring... They are made over into new beings. They are transformed by the power of their love.
Love is the revelation of our deepest personal meaning, value and identity. But this revelation remains impossible as long as we are the prisoners of our own egoism. I cannot find myself in myself, but only in another. My true meaning and worth are shown to me not in my estimate of myself, but in the eyes of the one who loves me; and that one must love me as I am, with my faults and limitations, revealing to me the truth that these faults and limitations cannot destroy my worth in the eyes of that one who loves me; and that I am therefore valuable as a person, in spite of my shortcomings, in spite of the imperfections of my exterior "package." The package is totally unimportant. What matters is this infinitely precious message which I can discover only in my love for another person. And this message, this secret, is not fully revealed to me unless at the same time I am able to see and understand the mysterious and unique worth of the one I love.
Thomas Merton. "Love and Need" in Love and Living. Naomi Burton Stone and Brother Patrick Hart, editors. New York: Farrar, Straus & Giroux, 1979: 31.
When people are truly in love, they experience far more than just a mutual need of each other's company and consolation. In their relations with each other they become different people: they are more than their everyday selves, more alive, more understanding, more enduring... They are made over into new beings. They are transformed by the power of their love.
Love is the revelation of our deepest personal meaning, value and identity. But this revelation remains impossible as long as we are the prisoners of our own egoism. I cannot find myself in myself, but only in another. My true meaning and worth are shown to me not in my estimate of myself, but in the eyes of the one who loves me; and that one must love me as I am, with my faults and limitations, revealing to me the truth that these faults and limitations cannot destroy my worth in the eyes of that one who loves me; and that I am therefore valuable as a person, in spite of my shortcomings, in spite of the imperfections of my exterior "package." The package is totally unimportant. What matters is this infinitely precious message which I can discover only in my love for another person. And this message, this secret, is not fully revealed to me unless at the same time I am able to see and understand the mysterious and unique worth of the one I love.
Thomas Merton. "Love and Need" in Love and Living. Naomi Burton Stone and Brother Patrick Hart, editors. New York: Farrar, Straus & Giroux, 1979: 31.
Friday, September 21, 2007
The First Dance
Just about to take our first dance....the continuing steps into the dance of married life!
Wednesday, August 29, 2007
Finding Jesus at the Table
The Mystery of God, of the Divine, of the Trinity, Jesus, and Holy Presence – it is all a mystery to me. Yet within me is the holy longing to pursue, to be pursued and to discover and have revealed to me more of The Mystery.
Places I have been recently, books I have read and conversations that have given glimpses of this subject, of Them, are stirring something, yet again, within me. Why are there tears every time I take communion? Why when I read of the sacred table do I need to be still and hold each thought before I can move on?
Perhaps the weeping is grief mixed with the wonder of the mystery – that while for some the table is the most exclusive place to sit, Jesus is revealing to me that for him it was the most inclusive place. Prostitutes, tax gathers, the poor, the disenfranchised, those whose illnesses made them invisible – there was no one that Jesus would not eat with. In fact the last meal before his crucifixion, he accepted bread from Judas who betrayed him. Jesus knew of the betrayal yet didn’t refuse to eat with him – it was Judas who chose to leave the table, the sacred space of holy presence.
Communion is the table where we celebrate Jesus as the giver of life, the Bread of Life, the One who gives us the most inclusive blessing of life.
I have so many questions as to why this stirring is so profound and powerful. I have so few answers – only the knowing, really knowing that it is Jesus who is sitting with me as I ask the questions and it is Jesus that is beside me as my tears fall onto the bread and into the cup as I take communion.
Jesus has been the Lover I have come to know in the desert places of life, and Holy Presence in the silence and solitude where I found delight. Another part of the Mystery, of Holy Presence is now inviting me closer, deeper – the table where all are welcomed and all are fed, and each one is seen so completely.
I will continue reading and waiting and longing – I will continue the walk with tears on my face to the communion table. I will pursue the Mystery with anticipation.
Places I have been recently, books I have read and conversations that have given glimpses of this subject, of Them, are stirring something, yet again, within me. Why are there tears every time I take communion? Why when I read of the sacred table do I need to be still and hold each thought before I can move on?
Perhaps the weeping is grief mixed with the wonder of the mystery – that while for some the table is the most exclusive place to sit, Jesus is revealing to me that for him it was the most inclusive place. Prostitutes, tax gathers, the poor, the disenfranchised, those whose illnesses made them invisible – there was no one that Jesus would not eat with. In fact the last meal before his crucifixion, he accepted bread from Judas who betrayed him. Jesus knew of the betrayal yet didn’t refuse to eat with him – it was Judas who chose to leave the table, the sacred space of holy presence.
Communion is the table where we celebrate Jesus as the giver of life, the Bread of Life, the One who gives us the most inclusive blessing of life.
I have so many questions as to why this stirring is so profound and powerful. I have so few answers – only the knowing, really knowing that it is Jesus who is sitting with me as I ask the questions and it is Jesus that is beside me as my tears fall onto the bread and into the cup as I take communion.
Jesus has been the Lover I have come to know in the desert places of life, and Holy Presence in the silence and solitude where I found delight. Another part of the Mystery, of Holy Presence is now inviting me closer, deeper – the table where all are welcomed and all are fed, and each one is seen so completely.
I will continue reading and waiting and longing – I will continue the walk with tears on my face to the communion table. I will pursue the Mystery with anticipation.
Monday, August 20, 2007
Wonder, Love, Change
Not long now until David and I get married - September 8th is the date. Life seems a bit hectic at the moment and I realize why people elope!!! There are so many things everyone wants you to do and trying to fit them all in is a puzzle. But as I think about it and have moments of panic that not all will get done, I realize how much I am doing exactly what I don't want to do...not staying present to this moment in this day and embracing it with wonder and passion. All will fall into place I am sure.
There are still also times when I wonder if all this is real since this is a surprise I have not expected in my life. Yet as we put together our vows, and plan our sacred ceremony, it is about more than just the two of us. It is about our combined communities, our combined families, and how our home will become our sanctuary and a sacred space for those who need to come and rest there.
Tuesday, July 24, 2007
"Freedom From Fear Comes Through Love"
Freedom From Fear Comes Through Love
This is a line from Psalm 3, Nan Merrill – Psalms for Praying. Fear is an ingredient that was liberally added to my understanding of God as I grew up. Fear is an ingredient that power mongers wield to control those who have “less than”, and fanatics hold it as their creed over those who see through different eyes. Religious abuse is based on fear.
Fear and freedom cannot co-habitate within me – they are absolute rivals for my heart and soul and the battle inside gets fierce when freedom is threatened. Yet fear is my response when threatened, or silenced, or when the bruise of the past is touched – instinctively I retreat to fear! Why? Why is my response not from freedom when I am threatened? I live so far away from those places of fear now. The wind of the Spirit has never spoken fear to me – only the tenderness of freedom and hope.
The practice of moving into freedom doesn’t come as quickly as I want it to. But “practice” is the only way I know that will move me from old responses to the true one of Trust in Love, in the Beloved, where the fear is silenced and Truth is spoken to my heart and soul.
Over the past few weeks I have seen the effects of legalistic/cult like behaviour in the circle of those I love, the circle I have had to walk away from, yet they cannot see it from within. As I hear of their pain my own fears rise for I know they have been unable to ever truly hear my own pain. These wounds of the soul are deeper than we realize and perhaps the ‘bruise’ left behind will always remain. Religious/spiritual abuse may also take a lifetime to heal.
As I retreated to my place of solitude and silence, even away from my beloved fiance, I sat with the fears and heard them for what they are – bruises of the past that cannot sit with the freedom my heart lives for now. Picking up my new book, Psalms for Praying, I found this Psalm 3 to speak to me, to let the wind of the Spirit bathe me again in freedom, hope and truth:
O Beloved, how numerous are my fears!
They rise up within me whispering
There is no help for you in Love.
Yet You, O my Beloved, radiate around me,
My glory,
Lifting my head high.
I cry aloud to You,
And You answer within my heart.
I lie down and sleep;
I wake again, for my Beloved
Holds me with strength and tenderness.
I shall withstand all my fears as they arise within me.
Rise up, Love!
Set me free, my Beloved!
For with You in my heart
My fears will be transformed into Love.
Freedom from fear comes through Love;
May the Beloved’s blessing reign within all hearts!
From Psalm 4 – Nan Merrill, Praying the Psalms
You know that the Beloved dwells with those
Who are filled with love;
And hears when our hearts cry out.
Though you may feel angry,
Do not give in to fear;
Commune with the Heart of your heart
As you rest,
And be in silence.
Make peace with your fears
And trust in Love.
I hold this in my heart and let it be infused into my being to help me build new responses, in freedom.
This is a line from Psalm 3, Nan Merrill – Psalms for Praying. Fear is an ingredient that was liberally added to my understanding of God as I grew up. Fear is an ingredient that power mongers wield to control those who have “less than”, and fanatics hold it as their creed over those who see through different eyes. Religious abuse is based on fear.
Fear and freedom cannot co-habitate within me – they are absolute rivals for my heart and soul and the battle inside gets fierce when freedom is threatened. Yet fear is my response when threatened, or silenced, or when the bruise of the past is touched – instinctively I retreat to fear! Why? Why is my response not from freedom when I am threatened? I live so far away from those places of fear now. The wind of the Spirit has never spoken fear to me – only the tenderness of freedom and hope.
The practice of moving into freedom doesn’t come as quickly as I want it to. But “practice” is the only way I know that will move me from old responses to the true one of Trust in Love, in the Beloved, where the fear is silenced and Truth is spoken to my heart and soul.
Over the past few weeks I have seen the effects of legalistic/cult like behaviour in the circle of those I love, the circle I have had to walk away from, yet they cannot see it from within. As I hear of their pain my own fears rise for I know they have been unable to ever truly hear my own pain. These wounds of the soul are deeper than we realize and perhaps the ‘bruise’ left behind will always remain. Religious/spiritual abuse may also take a lifetime to heal.
As I retreated to my place of solitude and silence, even away from my beloved fiance, I sat with the fears and heard them for what they are – bruises of the past that cannot sit with the freedom my heart lives for now. Picking up my new book, Psalms for Praying, I found this Psalm 3 to speak to me, to let the wind of the Spirit bathe me again in freedom, hope and truth:
O Beloved, how numerous are my fears!
They rise up within me whispering
There is no help for you in Love.
Yet You, O my Beloved, radiate around me,
My glory,
Lifting my head high.
I cry aloud to You,
And You answer within my heart.
I lie down and sleep;
I wake again, for my Beloved
Holds me with strength and tenderness.
I shall withstand all my fears as they arise within me.
Rise up, Love!
Set me free, my Beloved!
For with You in my heart
My fears will be transformed into Love.
Freedom from fear comes through Love;
May the Beloved’s blessing reign within all hearts!
From Psalm 4 – Nan Merrill, Praying the Psalms
You know that the Beloved dwells with those
Who are filled with love;
And hears when our hearts cry out.
Though you may feel angry,
Do not give in to fear;
Commune with the Heart of your heart
As you rest,
And be in silence.
Make peace with your fears
And trust in Love.
I hold this in my heart and let it be infused into my being to help me build new responses, in freedom.
Monday, July 09, 2007
Contemplative Thought for the Day
Thought to Remember
"Contemplation can never be the object of calculated ambition. It is not something we plan to obtain with our practical reason, but is the living water of the spirit that we thirst for, like a hunted deer thirsting after a river in the wilderness."
The Merton Institute for Contemplative Living
"Contemplation can never be the object of calculated ambition. It is not something we plan to obtain with our practical reason, but is the living water of the spirit that we thirst for, like a hunted deer thirsting after a river in the wilderness."
The Merton Institute for Contemplative Living
Friday, July 06, 2007
Summertime Meanderings in My Mind
One morning this week I stood at the kitchen sink, feeling the gentle morning breeze, inhaling the scent of a warm summer day beginning, hearing the faint sound of early traffic , and I realized summer had at last arrived here on the BC Coast! It has been slow in arriving - up until the end of June we have had rain rain rain and unusually cool weather. As the warm air, the morning scent, and the music of summer drifted through the window, my mind returned to languid summer days that have held the full meaning of this season that invites us to revel in the season full of light and warmth. Always, always my mind returns to my year in Italia and the hot days of May when I arrived. There was the early morning train ride from Castellammare to Napoli for Italian lessons, and then home in the midday heat. The 10 days in old Montreal last year were a glorious gift of solitude and time to drink in life surrounded by another language. At the end of the time when my friend Angie joined me there was much heart story to share with each other.
Perhaps it is "heart story" that I remember as my senses step into summer. This season that calls us to dress more lightly where the wardrobe waits with the fabrics that brush against your skin so lightly, or that allow your bare arms and legs to be bathed in the sunlight or moonlight and walking barefoot lets you experience the heat and the freedom of summer. Funny, as I write that I realize how much each season reveals facets of love and perhaps summer is the one of lingering, and in the lingering the opening of the windows of the heart and mind to experience the freshness it holds. My life theme of "barefoot freedom" feels so delicious in the long warm days of summer.
My mental meanderings ventured down another road as I read the bittersweet story of letting a precious pet go, over here at Living On Both Ends. For 4 of the 6 years I have lived out here on the West Coast I have had Sebastian the cat as a companion in my cosy apartment. He has been a great little companion greeting me at the door when I return home, seeking out my lap when I sit to read or watch a movie, licking the tears off my face as their warm salty liquid released the pain as I walked through the wrestling of another part of the inner healing path. Come September Sebastian will need to adjust to a new home, joining 2 other resident female cats that belong to my beloved. David and I will have a blended family - of cats!! In the meantime Sebastian spends more time than usual alone due to my spending more time with David than alone at my own home. I feel guilty that my little (well he is rather a large cat) feline friend is a bit neglected right now.
Having been single for a long time I find myself reticent to share my joy at this surprise of love in my life, with friends who would also like this kind of gift in their lives. I realize how much easier it is to share sorrow than to share joy in some respects. The enthusiasm of and love a friend as I shared the story of David and I was delightful and yet I know that she too would love to have such a story in her own life. I realize how closed my heart has been to others joy in their story when I wished the story was my own. My heart is not always as generous and as gracious as it should be as an "image bearer" of the Almighty. I have much to learn yet.
I have pondered why I write less these days. While life is busy and I have much less time in solitude, it also seems that I am "living" my story in a way that is more participatory at present than ever before. The writing will come again I am sure. Like summer, full of warmth, colour and delicious breezes, this particular segment of my life fabric holds change, wonder and the realizing that it isn't leaving an old life, but embracing the new into my present, that gives the shimmer and the texture to the present.
Perhaps it is "heart story" that I remember as my senses step into summer. This season that calls us to dress more lightly where the wardrobe waits with the fabrics that brush against your skin so lightly, or that allow your bare arms and legs to be bathed in the sunlight or moonlight and walking barefoot lets you experience the heat and the freedom of summer. Funny, as I write that I realize how much each season reveals facets of love and perhaps summer is the one of lingering, and in the lingering the opening of the windows of the heart and mind to experience the freshness it holds. My life theme of "barefoot freedom" feels so delicious in the long warm days of summer.
My mental meanderings ventured down another road as I read the bittersweet story of letting a precious pet go, over here at Living On Both Ends. For 4 of the 6 years I have lived out here on the West Coast I have had Sebastian the cat as a companion in my cosy apartment. He has been a great little companion greeting me at the door when I return home, seeking out my lap when I sit to read or watch a movie, licking the tears off my face as their warm salty liquid released the pain as I walked through the wrestling of another part of the inner healing path. Come September Sebastian will need to adjust to a new home, joining 2 other resident female cats that belong to my beloved. David and I will have a blended family - of cats!! In the meantime Sebastian spends more time than usual alone due to my spending more time with David than alone at my own home. I feel guilty that my little (well he is rather a large cat) feline friend is a bit neglected right now.
Having been single for a long time I find myself reticent to share my joy at this surprise of love in my life, with friends who would also like this kind of gift in their lives. I realize how much easier it is to share sorrow than to share joy in some respects. The enthusiasm of and love a friend as I shared the story of David and I was delightful and yet I know that she too would love to have such a story in her own life. I realize how closed my heart has been to others joy in their story when I wished the story was my own. My heart is not always as generous and as gracious as it should be as an "image bearer" of the Almighty. I have much to learn yet.
I have pondered why I write less these days. While life is busy and I have much less time in solitude, it also seems that I am "living" my story in a way that is more participatory at present than ever before. The writing will come again I am sure. Like summer, full of warmth, colour and delicious breezes, this particular segment of my life fabric holds change, wonder and the realizing that it isn't leaving an old life, but embracing the new into my present, that gives the shimmer and the texture to the present.
Friday, June 29, 2007
An Invitation - to Wholeness
Psalm 101…
...from the book by Nan C. Merrill…
Psalms for Praying:
An Invitation To Wholeness
I sing of loyalty and justice;
to You, O Beloved, I sing.
I give heed to the Way that
leads to peace,
Making a home in our hearts,
You are our loving Companion and Friend.
May I walk with integrity
where’er I go,
May I see you in all creation!
May I be a mirror of your Love
to all that I meet;
May I reflect the freedom of your
Truth, and live
As a beneficial presence in
the world.
Forgive me, O Merciful One, if I turn
from those in need.
Humble me if I become arrogant
and greedy.
Embrace me with your Presence.
I accompany those who love You,
that I may grow in
wisdom;
I enter into the Silence, into the
Eternal Light,
and listen for your gentle Voice.
For, no one who oppresses another,
who keeps company with injustice,
will dwell in the house of Love.
And, no one who prefers darkness
will live in the glory of Light
In the morning I offer myself to You
in prayer,
by night I surrender to You
in trust;
O, that I might walk in the Light
with a grateful heart,
and radiate peace to the world!
Monday, June 25, 2007
A Contemplation on Love - Thomas Merton
The Merton Reflection for the Week of June 25, 2007
"All through the Verba Seniorum [The Sayings of the Desert Fathers] we find a repeated insistence on the primacy of love over everything else in the spiritual life: over knowledge, gnosis, asceticism, contemplation, solitude, prayer. Love in fact is the spiritual life, and without it all the other exercises of the spirit, however lofty, are emptied of content and become mere illusions. The more lofty they are, the more dangerous the illusion.
Love, of course, means something much more then mere sentiment, much more than token favors and perfunctory almsdeeds. Love mean an interior and spiritual identification with one's neighbor, so that she is not regarded as an "object" to "which" one "does good." The fact is that good done to another as an object is of little or no spiritual value. Love takes one's neighbor as one's other self, and loves him with all the immense humility and discretion and reserve and reverence without which no one can presume to enter into the sanctuary of another's subjectivity. From such love all authoritarian brutality, all exploitation, domineering and condescension must necessarily be absent. The saints of the desert were enemies of every subtle or gross expedient by which "the spiritual man" contrives to bully those he thinks inferior to himself, thus gratifying his own ego. They had renounced everything that savored of punishment and revenge, however hidden it might be."
Thomas Merton. The Wisdom of the Desert. New York: New Directions Press, 1960: 17-18.
Thought to Remember
"Love demands a complete inner transformation-for without this we cannot possibly come to identify ourselves with our brother [and sister]. We have to become, in some sense, the person we love."
The Wisdom of the Desert: 18
"All through the Verba Seniorum [The Sayings of the Desert Fathers] we find a repeated insistence on the primacy of love over everything else in the spiritual life: over knowledge, gnosis, asceticism, contemplation, solitude, prayer. Love in fact is the spiritual life, and without it all the other exercises of the spirit, however lofty, are emptied of content and become mere illusions. The more lofty they are, the more dangerous the illusion.
Love, of course, means something much more then mere sentiment, much more than token favors and perfunctory almsdeeds. Love mean an interior and spiritual identification with one's neighbor, so that she is not regarded as an "object" to "which" one "does good." The fact is that good done to another as an object is of little or no spiritual value. Love takes one's neighbor as one's other self, and loves him with all the immense humility and discretion and reserve and reverence without which no one can presume to enter into the sanctuary of another's subjectivity. From such love all authoritarian brutality, all exploitation, domineering and condescension must necessarily be absent. The saints of the desert were enemies of every subtle or gross expedient by which "the spiritual man" contrives to bully those he thinks inferior to himself, thus gratifying his own ego. They had renounced everything that savored of punishment and revenge, however hidden it might be."
Thomas Merton. The Wisdom of the Desert. New York: New Directions Press, 1960: 17-18.
Thought to Remember
"Love demands a complete inner transformation-for without this we cannot possibly come to identify ourselves with our brother [and sister]. We have to become, in some sense, the person we love."
The Wisdom of the Desert: 18
Thursday, June 21, 2007
Today's Piece of Wisdom
Have patience with everything unresolved in your heart
and try to love the questions themselves ...
Don't search for the answers,
which could not be given to you now,
because you would not be able to live them.
And the point is, to live everything.
Live the questions now.
Perhaps then, someday far in the future,
you will gradually, without even noticing it,
live your way into the answer.
rainer maria rilke
and try to love the questions themselves ...
Don't search for the answers,
which could not be given to you now,
because you would not be able to live them.
And the point is, to live everything.
Live the questions now.
Perhaps then, someday far in the future,
you will gradually, without even noticing it,
live your way into the answer.
rainer maria rilke
Monday, June 11, 2007
Where Does The Yearning Come From?
And where does the yearning go or what does it give birth to as time passes? Is it like a stream that starts small and insignificant and over time as it runs through our story does it become a majestic wonderful river that carries life and moves us forward, or does it become like a yawing huge cavern that only echoes the questions back to us, unanswered?
On Saturday evening my little community at Linwood House had a get together that turned out to be a delightful surprise engagement party for David and I. There were many words of blessing, encouragement, love and delight spoken to both of us. One proposed a toast and spoke of the delight they feel at this wonderful blessing for us and how they have watched the changes in the time they have known me. Woven into this blessing he spoke of the "yearning for man" I had held in my heart. While I heard his love and delight, I also felt a momentary sense of shame that this yearning had been seen almost as a desperateness. Momentary as it was, it has turned my heart to consider what the "yearning" we hold within really speaks of, what it gives voice to, and what we do with that.
Since I was a little girl I wanted to get married and have children - that was what girls in my community did. There were not other options - only to be a "spinster" or to be married and raise children. Therefore a woman's identity was found in this role of wife and mother. In retrospect much of my "yearning" was for identity - to be defined and recognized for who that person was. Patriarchal circles define us by our roles instead of letting our eyes see who that individual is and being part of the circle that sets them free to explore, discover and live out that identity.
My heart wanted to be seen as a woman yet my circle saw women only as wives and mothers. My heart wanted to be heard, my voice recognized as one that had something to say, yet my circle saw women as beautiful if they were silent and dutiful. My very being longed to express all that was within yet my circle wanted to silence the sensuality of women, their ability to feel and create and let the artist within be gloriously expressive. I don't speak of this now with bitterness - only with eyes that see that the yearning comes from a soul that seeks to let the small inner stream blend with the glorious rivers that lead to the ocean of mystery that life holds. What some may have seen as a "yearning" for a man in my life, I now see as a soul that was desperate for individual identity but only understood that identity came as a wife or mother (a role in others lives). If only someone could see the woman within, or hear the woman within. Does it take a man do to that to make one a woman? No - the one who has to see the woman within is myself, to acknowledge and accept her, to listen to her voice and believe she can live vibrantly and wholely in her own right.
Is it not when we follow Jesus instructions to love ourselves that the identity begins to take shape? Is this not where the yearning really is leading us - to the place of loving the artistry that is "me"? Hearing that inner voice of love then becomes the teacher, the Spirit within to reveal the feminine image of God (speaking from my point of view). Yearning then becomes the voice leading to Holy Presence, sacred spaces, and community. Believing we each are carriers of life can only come when we begin to acknowledge, embrace and celebrate the life placed within us - the voice of the Almighty whose whisper began the yearning in the beginning. Is it the soul that seeks significance and mystery and this leads us to yearn for what we cannot define but only what has perhaps been defined by others for us? Yet Truth that sits deep within each soul will not give up drawing us to acknowledge and embrace the questions.
Seeking the mystery of life will always be a "yearning" within, but the contentment of embracing the "becoming" is also a place of delightful discovery. Learning to partner with my beloved becomes a new dimension in the mystery of life and of love, that I bring my whole self and true identity into, as does he.
Yearning is misunderstood it seems, or misheard - how can I hear this voice of others souls as I walk through life? I want to listen more closely to hear where it is coming from, or walk alongside another as they labour in the birthing of their true unique identity.
On Saturday evening my little community at Linwood House had a get together that turned out to be a delightful surprise engagement party for David and I. There were many words of blessing, encouragement, love and delight spoken to both of us. One proposed a toast and spoke of the delight they feel at this wonderful blessing for us and how they have watched the changes in the time they have known me. Woven into this blessing he spoke of the "yearning for man" I had held in my heart. While I heard his love and delight, I also felt a momentary sense of shame that this yearning had been seen almost as a desperateness. Momentary as it was, it has turned my heart to consider what the "yearning" we hold within really speaks of, what it gives voice to, and what we do with that.
Since I was a little girl I wanted to get married and have children - that was what girls in my community did. There were not other options - only to be a "spinster" or to be married and raise children. Therefore a woman's identity was found in this role of wife and mother. In retrospect much of my "yearning" was for identity - to be defined and recognized for who that person was. Patriarchal circles define us by our roles instead of letting our eyes see who that individual is and being part of the circle that sets them free to explore, discover and live out that identity.
My heart wanted to be seen as a woman yet my circle saw women only as wives and mothers. My heart wanted to be heard, my voice recognized as one that had something to say, yet my circle saw women as beautiful if they were silent and dutiful. My very being longed to express all that was within yet my circle wanted to silence the sensuality of women, their ability to feel and create and let the artist within be gloriously expressive. I don't speak of this now with bitterness - only with eyes that see that the yearning comes from a soul that seeks to let the small inner stream blend with the glorious rivers that lead to the ocean of mystery that life holds. What some may have seen as a "yearning" for a man in my life, I now see as a soul that was desperate for individual identity but only understood that identity came as a wife or mother (a role in others lives). If only someone could see the woman within, or hear the woman within. Does it take a man do to that to make one a woman? No - the one who has to see the woman within is myself, to acknowledge and accept her, to listen to her voice and believe she can live vibrantly and wholely in her own right.
Is it not when we follow Jesus instructions to love ourselves that the identity begins to take shape? Is this not where the yearning really is leading us - to the place of loving the artistry that is "me"? Hearing that inner voice of love then becomes the teacher, the Spirit within to reveal the feminine image of God (speaking from my point of view). Yearning then becomes the voice leading to Holy Presence, sacred spaces, and community. Believing we each are carriers of life can only come when we begin to acknowledge, embrace and celebrate the life placed within us - the voice of the Almighty whose whisper began the yearning in the beginning. Is it the soul that seeks significance and mystery and this leads us to yearn for what we cannot define but only what has perhaps been defined by others for us? Yet Truth that sits deep within each soul will not give up drawing us to acknowledge and embrace the questions.
Seeking the mystery of life will always be a "yearning" within, but the contentment of embracing the "becoming" is also a place of delightful discovery. Learning to partner with my beloved becomes a new dimension in the mystery of life and of love, that I bring my whole self and true identity into, as does he.
Yearning is misunderstood it seems, or misheard - how can I hear this voice of others souls as I walk through life? I want to listen more closely to hear where it is coming from, or walk alongside another as they labour in the birthing of their true unique identity.
Tuesday, June 05, 2007
Keeping the Mystery
In the excitement of new and wonderful love, in the anticipation of our wedding, the change in what hours I will work and what that looks like, planning, waiting and wonder, one has stepped onto a busy road unaware that the pace has changed to one of hurry/haste and anxiousness. It has become a excessive speed internally.
So in the last few days I have had to return to what I so passionately speak of at the Sensual Table – engaging the senses in the ordinary to enjoy the mystery of being present. It brings me to the question of how the senses draw us into the mystery, which entwines with being present and what the third cord is in the “three strand cord” of life.
This place of nurture to my own heart and soul is essential to living out “loving yourself as well as you love your neighbour”. Loving deeply, loving well, and anticipating life as it moves into this amazing gift of partnering with the one who my heart has expanded to embrace can only come with authenticity as my contemplative soul is fed with quiet and solitude. It calls for intentionally holding my heart open to the Divine Mystery.
I am grateful for the following pieces I have been meditating on:
Often my life is like a spinning top
Hurtling through the days,
Spinning,
Spinning,
Spinning,
Savouring nothing,
Threshing air and noise.
Then, suddenly, unbalanced, thrown, my ground is gone
My dance is done,
Slowly unwinding
I fall,
Stunned,
Stilled,
Into the steady arms
Of God.
Pg 28 A Mystical Heart – Edwina Gateley
Ecclesiasticus 51, 12-15
I will thank you and praise you,
And bless the name of the Lord.
When I was still a youth, before I went travelling,
In my prayers I asked outright for wisdom.
Outside the sanctuary I will pray for her,
And to the last I will continue to seek her.
From her blossoming to the ripening of her grape,
My heart has taken its delight in her.
Sacred Space
Thank you Almighty for those who pen their thoughts so I may read them, digest them, wait in Holy Presence, be present with You, and find Wisdom, find Sophia, that invites me to simply be in the mystery of love, the mystery of life with my senses alive and engaged.
Tuesday, May 22, 2007
Loose Threads - Exquisite Lace
Our feet moved across the cobble stones, the heels of our shoes clicked against them, and we meandered through the narrow steep streets of Positano as we headed to visit an elderly lady. The door was tucked in behind the stone wall and at first it was hard to believe there was a house there. Yet when the door was opened, we entered into a small but airy space that was simply furnished and the colour of sunshine and the smell of espresso enveloped us. In a corner window that gave a vista of the beach along this stretch of the Amalfi coast, stood a frame with a large round pillow that held hundreds of threads, kept in place by straight pins. A pattern had begun to appear as these threads were twisted and plaited together to create an exquisite pattern of lace! In this small “room with a view”, an elderly woman passed her time by intricately and precisely creating lace from hundreds of loose threads.
In a recent morning as I drove to work I thought about holes in the heart; holes left by the storms that have battered and broken the heart. Holes that seem impossible to mend and put back together again could just take up so much space in our lives. I was thinking of someone who has huge holes in their heart in this season of life.
My mother used to darn the holes in our socks which meant they were still useful and wearable. But is the mending or healing of the holes left in the soul and heart, which may take a lifetime or beyond, only so we are “useful” in life? If we are created for passionate living and God redeems the pain, it seems to me that it isn’t just about mending the breaks so my life is “useful”. That sounds so…oh just so utilitarian, so emotionless, so without feel, passion, purpose or hope, so scientific.
Could it be that somehow there is a way that all those loose threads within the soul and heart can be taken with infinite patience and immense vision and woven into a beautiful pattern of lace so that my heart, my feminine heart and soul can live out this side of God’s character? As a woman can I let this slow process of twisting and plaiting those threads, the movement of the needle and the waiting while others are tended to, be seen as a “lace making” part of the redemption of the wild and dark storms in my life?
“Lace is a lightweight, openwork fabric, patterned with open holes in the work, made by machine or by hand. The holes can be formed via removal of threads or cloth from a previously woven fabric, but more often open spaces are created as part of the lace fabric.” Wikipedia
How mysterious that what was “previously woven” and “open spaces” are what give the beauty and uniqueness to the feminine lace of my heart.
In a recent morning as I drove to work I thought about holes in the heart; holes left by the storms that have battered and broken the heart. Holes that seem impossible to mend and put back together again could just take up so much space in our lives. I was thinking of someone who has huge holes in their heart in this season of life.
My mother used to darn the holes in our socks which meant they were still useful and wearable. But is the mending or healing of the holes left in the soul and heart, which may take a lifetime or beyond, only so we are “useful” in life? If we are created for passionate living and God redeems the pain, it seems to me that it isn’t just about mending the breaks so my life is “useful”. That sounds so…oh just so utilitarian, so emotionless, so without feel, passion, purpose or hope, so scientific.
Could it be that somehow there is a way that all those loose threads within the soul and heart can be taken with infinite patience and immense vision and woven into a beautiful pattern of lace so that my heart, my feminine heart and soul can live out this side of God’s character? As a woman can I let this slow process of twisting and plaiting those threads, the movement of the needle and the waiting while others are tended to, be seen as a “lace making” part of the redemption of the wild and dark storms in my life?
“Lace is a lightweight, openwork fabric, patterned with open holes in the work, made by machine or by hand. The holes can be formed via removal of threads or cloth from a previously woven fabric, but more often open spaces are created as part of the lace fabric.” Wikipedia
How mysterious that what was “previously woven” and “open spaces” are what give the beauty and uniqueness to the feminine lace of my heart.
Wednesday, May 09, 2007
What Religion is Grace?
Foreign films are always of interest to me and I find them deeply provocative in the areas of social justice, relationship, culture and history.
Live and Become, a film by Radu Mihaileanu, which I viewed this week, rates very high in all these areas. While it deals with poverty, women in poverty, ones’ life story, the hiding and then the revealing of story, redemption, faith and culture, what I have been pondering today is how this particular film story reveals grace – grace that has little to do with religion and everything to do with being created in the image of the Almighty.
Schlomo, living in a refugee camp in the Sudan, was sent to Israel by his Christian mother with a Jewish woman whose son had just died. The mother instinct to do anything to save her son, and the guilt he lives with as a survivor is a strong cord in this film. Schlomo is not Jewish at all yet hides this fact for many years. He becomes a good student of the Torah and is mentored by the Falasha leader. To reveal his secret can cost him his life, his home, his community, the woman he falls in love with – yet in a desperate place he finally reveals the truth to the Falasha/Rabbi. The love of a Sephardic Jewish family who adopts him, the love of the Falasha leader – all signs of grace that somehow we think of as “Christian” behaviour, that are being revealed through characters that do not recognize Jesus as the revealer of Truth.
This is where my thoughts have been percolating today – why do we, or rather I, think grace, compassion, kindness, redemption, and sacrifices are “Christian” qualities? If we are all in the image of God our Creator, are they not qualities of the Almighty that are given to every single image bearer, no matter what faith they are? Just as this is so every single fanatical “religion” has the qualities that have no resemblance to who God is. Where does the line between religion and grace come in? Where does one become faith and the other fanaticism?
It brings me back to embracing the truth that all of us are made in God’s image. All of us are created equal, and all of us are on a journey to discovering Truth and the relationship with the Almighty that Truth draws us into. The search for this Truth often leaves me with more questions, or undefined pieces, yet each time I find a piece like this question of “grace”, I am drawn more deeply into my own sense of knowing the reality of the Almighty in my life.
Live and Become, a film by Radu Mihaileanu, which I viewed this week, rates very high in all these areas. While it deals with poverty, women in poverty, ones’ life story, the hiding and then the revealing of story, redemption, faith and culture, what I have been pondering today is how this particular film story reveals grace – grace that has little to do with religion and everything to do with being created in the image of the Almighty.
Schlomo, living in a refugee camp in the Sudan, was sent to Israel by his Christian mother with a Jewish woman whose son had just died. The mother instinct to do anything to save her son, and the guilt he lives with as a survivor is a strong cord in this film. Schlomo is not Jewish at all yet hides this fact for many years. He becomes a good student of the Torah and is mentored by the Falasha leader. To reveal his secret can cost him his life, his home, his community, the woman he falls in love with – yet in a desperate place he finally reveals the truth to the Falasha/Rabbi. The love of a Sephardic Jewish family who adopts him, the love of the Falasha leader – all signs of grace that somehow we think of as “Christian” behaviour, that are being revealed through characters that do not recognize Jesus as the revealer of Truth.
This is where my thoughts have been percolating today – why do we, or rather I, think grace, compassion, kindness, redemption, and sacrifices are “Christian” qualities? If we are all in the image of God our Creator, are they not qualities of the Almighty that are given to every single image bearer, no matter what faith they are? Just as this is so every single fanatical “religion” has the qualities that have no resemblance to who God is. Where does the line between religion and grace come in? Where does one become faith and the other fanaticism?
It brings me back to embracing the truth that all of us are made in God’s image. All of us are created equal, and all of us are on a journey to discovering Truth and the relationship with the Almighty that Truth draws us into. The search for this Truth often leaves me with more questions, or undefined pieces, yet each time I find a piece like this question of “grace”, I am drawn more deeply into my own sense of knowing the reality of the Almighty in my life.
Tuesday, May 08, 2007
Change of Perspective
Writing has always been from a solo perspective, from living a life on my own, and sitting with those feelings without speaking to anyone before writing them down. Yet this perspective has changed in the last months with the entrance of an amazing man in my life, spending time with him and now looking forward to our wedding in the later part of the summer. The shift inwardly has caused me to talk more with my beloved than to writing it down on my blog!
Yet writing and blogging those thoughts is an expression and activity that will continue and be revived, coming from the place of partnering in a way that has taken me totally by surprise! I have been sitting with those changes in this period of time walking towards our committment day of partnering together for life.
In the embracing of these changes I have also treasured the solitude moments in Holy Presence in a new way, knowing these minutes will be shared differently.
This weeks meditation from A Mystical Heart by Edwina Gately draws one into the reality of change, the embracing of Holy Presence, and the wonder of how redemption is unfolded:
Whatever happens to me in life
I must believe that somewhere,
in the mess or madness of it all,
there is a sacred potential -
a possibility for wondrous redemption
in the embracing of all that is.
For in the unfolding of my journey,
in all its soaring delight
and crushing pain,
I may be sure that God is there -
always ahead, behind, below, and above,
encompassing all that befalls me
in a circle of deep compassion.
And there,
above the darkness
that wraps me round
the bright wings of the Dove
hover and beat
in gentle healing love
and invitation to
New Rising
Yet writing and blogging those thoughts is an expression and activity that will continue and be revived, coming from the place of partnering in a way that has taken me totally by surprise! I have been sitting with those changes in this period of time walking towards our committment day of partnering together for life.
In the embracing of these changes I have also treasured the solitude moments in Holy Presence in a new way, knowing these minutes will be shared differently.
This weeks meditation from A Mystical Heart by Edwina Gately draws one into the reality of change, the embracing of Holy Presence, and the wonder of how redemption is unfolded:
Whatever happens to me in life
I must believe that somewhere,
in the mess or madness of it all,
there is a sacred potential -
a possibility for wondrous redemption
in the embracing of all that is.
For in the unfolding of my journey,
in all its soaring delight
and crushing pain,
I may be sure that God is there -
always ahead, behind, below, and above,
encompassing all that befalls me
in a circle of deep compassion.
And there,
above the darkness
that wraps me round
the bright wings of the Dove
hover and beat
in gentle healing love
and invitation to
New Rising
Tuesday, April 17, 2007
Swinging in the Hammock
"Perfect" days are such a delightful gift when they serendipitously arrive and present our senses with the full bouquet of nature and life that enfolds us.
There are many of those days in my life but the most recent one whispered to me "you are home" in a new and wonderful way. My "beloved" had put the hammock out in the garden, nestled between trees and partway between the labyrinth and the house. Birds seemed to be everyone, flitting, singing, calling back and forth, feeding, darting about, chasing each other through the trees, and causing my ears to listen intently for their different songs. The air was still cool but the sun had come out for a change and so I lay there in the double hammock, wrapped in a worn and soft quilt keeping warm. Closing my eyes I let my senses drink in the sanctuary and refuge of this quiet, sheltered oasis, where the traffic was a distant whisper, and the solitude was like the breath of the Almighty placing shalom in abundance deep in my soul. The world around me carried on and I became still - a deep inner stillness that combines shalom, contentment, and the knowing that the cup of sorrow and joy have blended to a sweet smooth vintage.
The hammock swayed gently and I fell asleep.
There are many of those days in my life but the most recent one whispered to me "you are home" in a new and wonderful way. My "beloved" had put the hammock out in the garden, nestled between trees and partway between the labyrinth and the house. Birds seemed to be everyone, flitting, singing, calling back and forth, feeding, darting about, chasing each other through the trees, and causing my ears to listen intently for their different songs. The air was still cool but the sun had come out for a change and so I lay there in the double hammock, wrapped in a worn and soft quilt keeping warm. Closing my eyes I let my senses drink in the sanctuary and refuge of this quiet, sheltered oasis, where the traffic was a distant whisper, and the solitude was like the breath of the Almighty placing shalom in abundance deep in my soul. The world around me carried on and I became still - a deep inner stillness that combines shalom, contentment, and the knowing that the cup of sorrow and joy have blended to a sweet smooth vintage.
The hammock swayed gently and I fell asleep.
Tuesday, April 03, 2007
Thoughts for Today
I am currently in Budapest, after a week in Moldova, and our team leaves tomorrow for home. I am heading to Salzburg for a few extra days.
But in our circle of conversations over these weeks, we have been very grateful for the wisdom of women who write and share much through books. Soul Sisters by Edwina Gately is rich and full of amazing pictures of who women are. The following quotes from Friendship of Women by Joan Chittister are my nuggets in this morning.
"A true friend" Emerson wrote, "is somebody who can make us do what we can."
pg 29
"When a woman tells the truth," Adrienne Rich writes, "she creates the possibility for more truth around her."
pg 37 Friendship of Women
Great nuggets of what sacred space is created for.
But in our circle of conversations over these weeks, we have been very grateful for the wisdom of women who write and share much through books. Soul Sisters by Edwina Gately is rich and full of amazing pictures of who women are. The following quotes from Friendship of Women by Joan Chittister are my nuggets in this morning.
"A true friend" Emerson wrote, "is somebody who can make us do what we can."
pg 29
"When a woman tells the truth," Adrienne Rich writes, "she creates the possibility for more truth around her."
pg 37 Friendship of Women
Great nuggets of what sacred space is created for.
Friday, March 30, 2007
Eyes to See, Eyes that Watch
I awakend this morning to hear voices in the kitchen and went to join them. The scent of fresh coffee was wafting through the house. This house in Budapest where I am staying is full of treasures that tell stories and reflect the Swedish heritage of our hosts. A beautiful grand piano extends the invitation to come and let my fingers express emotions that have no words. This place is indeed a sanctuary to our team of 8 women travelling together.
We have just come from 8 days in Moldova, one of the poorest countries in Eastern Europe. It has rich beautiful land that lies waiting for someone to come and nurture it again. The oldest generation cares for the youngest generation and those in between have left for countries where they try to find work. The oldest generation of women are bent and worn and look out from hollow eyes, and many of them are slowly starving to death. The young ones run wild, trying to fill the holes left by being emotionally and literally abandoned. As we walked to various places our team realized that we were the only ones around laughing. We have had so much fun together but it is a strange feeling to know we are the only ones expressing this joy through laughter and delight together.
One of the most profound moments came when I was in a grocery store buying bottled water. Every step I took was watched with somber, almost intimidating gaze. Every detail of me was being taken as some kind of data it seemed. When I inquired about this behaviour, which follows us everywhere we go, it was explained how Communism wove suspicion into the depths of everyones soul. No one trusts anyone and you never knew who would betray you - family, friends, spouse, children, or workplace. My heart began to break and this concept is lingering in my thoughts.
I am a contemplative, an observer, one who loves to watch life - not with suspicion but with a wide eyed wonder that finds mystery and delight in what I see. This wonder comes from a freedom within my heart and soul, and freedom that I am surrounded by. My eyes love to "see" life around me in colour, scent, texture, sound, and taste.
What then would life be like if I had no freedom and had to live with eyes that watch ? This would steal life, shut down my senses, and literally anesthetize my soul. That is exactly what I have observed in Moldova, Ukraine, and Bulgaria - souls shut down. My heart wants to know how life can be revived, how the senses can experience with wonder of life again, and how the eyes can see once more? I don't know but the question keeps working away within me.
How do I as a culinary minister continue to bring life that nudges you to live with your eyes wide open and really see, not watch life? How do I take this now to a deeper level here, there, where ever the sacred space opens for me to step into in obedience?
Love does not grow in a place of suspicion - it will only be planted, watered, nurtured and flourish where there is freedom. I have not appreciated freedom, or embraced it as deeply as I could but this picture in Moldova is inviting my heart to go further and I will accept this invitation.
We have just come from 8 days in Moldova, one of the poorest countries in Eastern Europe. It has rich beautiful land that lies waiting for someone to come and nurture it again. The oldest generation cares for the youngest generation and those in between have left for countries where they try to find work. The oldest generation of women are bent and worn and look out from hollow eyes, and many of them are slowly starving to death. The young ones run wild, trying to fill the holes left by being emotionally and literally abandoned. As we walked to various places our team realized that we were the only ones around laughing. We have had so much fun together but it is a strange feeling to know we are the only ones expressing this joy through laughter and delight together.
One of the most profound moments came when I was in a grocery store buying bottled water. Every step I took was watched with somber, almost intimidating gaze. Every detail of me was being taken as some kind of data it seemed. When I inquired about this behaviour, which follows us everywhere we go, it was explained how Communism wove suspicion into the depths of everyones soul. No one trusts anyone and you never knew who would betray you - family, friends, spouse, children, or workplace. My heart began to break and this concept is lingering in my thoughts.
I am a contemplative, an observer, one who loves to watch life - not with suspicion but with a wide eyed wonder that finds mystery and delight in what I see. This wonder comes from a freedom within my heart and soul, and freedom that I am surrounded by. My eyes love to "see" life around me in colour, scent, texture, sound, and taste.
What then would life be like if I had no freedom and had to live with eyes that watch ? This would steal life, shut down my senses, and literally anesthetize my soul. That is exactly what I have observed in Moldova, Ukraine, and Bulgaria - souls shut down. My heart wants to know how life can be revived, how the senses can experience with wonder of life again, and how the eyes can see once more? I don't know but the question keeps working away within me.
How do I as a culinary minister continue to bring life that nudges you to live with your eyes wide open and really see, not watch life? How do I take this now to a deeper level here, there, where ever the sacred space opens for me to step into in obedience?
Love does not grow in a place of suspicion - it will only be planted, watered, nurtured and flourish where there is freedom. I have not appreciated freedom, or embraced it as deeply as I could but this picture in Moldova is inviting my heart to go further and I will accept this invitation.
Tuesday, March 20, 2007
Contemplative Footprints
Walking this labyrinth, one foot in front of the other, deliberately, pondering, inhaling and exhaling, feeling the wind, listening to wind chimes whisper a song – all in the sacred space that has been purposefully created. As I walked towards the centre my thoughts went to pieces of the ordinary that I need not hold onto. They were exhaled with my breath – and the breath of the Almighty came as I inhaled Holy Presence, walking slowly and deliberately.The more I deliberately tread the path of a contemplative, the deeper I can embrace the reality that this is who I am.
Where do we find Holy Presence? How do we find Holy Presence? Where does my soul, my heart, my breath cry out for the Almighty most deeply? We will find this in our own way as we search; intentionally stepping into places where deep calls to deep. Yours and mine may be dramatically different, and therein lies the wonder and mystery of how the facets of God are revealed to the soul in the language we hear. My language is the contemplative, in the words of the ancient mystics, and where the wind touches my skin.
This labyrinth is sacred space, purposefully laid out by one who invites others to come and experience what he holds out to community.
My own path has been an inward one in recent months as the invitation to explore the mystery of love has been held out to me. In the places of contemplation my heart opens to embrace more of the wonder of living, of loving and of moving into the redemption that has come.
Tuesday, February 20, 2007
When Active Waiting Shifts
Connie made a comment on the previous posting/quote that much of what has been posted on this blog lately (very sporadically at that) has been about blessings. While I had not consciously been searching for writings on “blessing”, it is what the wind, Ruach, has been speaking to my heart and soul.
Blessings that will come through waiting has been a clique repeated and given as wise words over the years, yet I have not found the blessings or the waiting to have come with the peace and confidence those words were supposed to have held.
Sunday evening a group had gathered and we ended with communion together – a sacred ritual for me. Afterwards as we stood around, someone very beloved to me, gently brought the cup to me and spoke of the fact that Jesus created me to be a blessing, and as he blessed, so I too was to accept this cup and be a blessing as I walk through life.
These words seem to be wearing a path around my heart as I ponder them, sit with them, speak to the Almighty on them and wait to understand how I can live them out more deeply, honestly, and richly.
There has been much waiting for me: what my purpose was, my passion is, my identity, my true way of worship, and how the heart of this woman can love. There active waiting often has meant wrestling that seemingly had no end, stole the energy and love my heart held and I was left with contempt and anger. Yet that too, the contempt and anger, have been the catalyst that called my soul to seek more deeply what it means to really live with passion and to begin to believe that beyond the chasm of brokenness lies a way to dance in a way all my own.
The last few months seem to have brought about an explosion of blessings that have arrived with such unexpected gentleness and honor, that I am rocked with awe! And with that comes the wonder of knowing these blessings are not mine to hold within but rather they are gifts to give back, to share, to embrace, to lean into. They invite me back to Holy Presence to wait, actively wait, so I do not run ahead, nor do I stay behind in fear. Perhaps the simplest way to describe it would be to say that my fingers have begun to find new ways to play the melodies I have been singing within and I have found myself returning more to the piano for longer periods of time letting the inner compositions find their own voice. Could it be that active waiting in Holy Presence, is about the variations on a simply melody that allow us to experience the range of notes as never before?
Allow myself to become more deeply enveloped by the truth that my soul is a contemplative soul has also let the wind, the Ruach of the Almighty show me the blessings held in the solitude and solace, and embracing active waiting.
It is still a mystery to me – a mystery that continually invites one to explore and move into what is held there.
Blessings that will come through waiting has been a clique repeated and given as wise words over the years, yet I have not found the blessings or the waiting to have come with the peace and confidence those words were supposed to have held.
Sunday evening a group had gathered and we ended with communion together – a sacred ritual for me. Afterwards as we stood around, someone very beloved to me, gently brought the cup to me and spoke of the fact that Jesus created me to be a blessing, and as he blessed, so I too was to accept this cup and be a blessing as I walk through life.
These words seem to be wearing a path around my heart as I ponder them, sit with them, speak to the Almighty on them and wait to understand how I can live them out more deeply, honestly, and richly.
There has been much waiting for me: what my purpose was, my passion is, my identity, my true way of worship, and how the heart of this woman can love. There active waiting often has meant wrestling that seemingly had no end, stole the energy and love my heart held and I was left with contempt and anger. Yet that too, the contempt and anger, have been the catalyst that called my soul to seek more deeply what it means to really live with passion and to begin to believe that beyond the chasm of brokenness lies a way to dance in a way all my own.
The last few months seem to have brought about an explosion of blessings that have arrived with such unexpected gentleness and honor, that I am rocked with awe! And with that comes the wonder of knowing these blessings are not mine to hold within but rather they are gifts to give back, to share, to embrace, to lean into. They invite me back to Holy Presence to wait, actively wait, so I do not run ahead, nor do I stay behind in fear. Perhaps the simplest way to describe it would be to say that my fingers have begun to find new ways to play the melodies I have been singing within and I have found myself returning more to the piano for longer periods of time letting the inner compositions find their own voice. Could it be that active waiting in Holy Presence, is about the variations on a simply melody that allow us to experience the range of notes as never before?
Allow myself to become more deeply enveloped by the truth that my soul is a contemplative soul has also let the wind, the Ruach of the Almighty show me the blessings held in the solitude and solace, and embracing active waiting.
It is still a mystery to me – a mystery that continually invites one to explore and move into what is held there.
Monday, February 05, 2007
Celtic Blessing of Light
“May the blessing of light be on you, light without and light within.
May the blessed sunlight shine upon you and warm your heart till it glows,
Like a great peat fire, so that the stranger may come
and warm himself at it, as well as the friend.
And may the light shine out of the eyes of you,
like a candle set in the windows of a house,
Bidding the wanderer to come in out of the storm.
And may the blessing of the rain be on you - the soft sweet rain.
May it fall upon your spirit so that all the little flowers may spring up,
And shed their sweetness on the air.
And may the blessing of the great rains be on you,
that they beat upon your spirit and wash it fair and clean,
and leave there many a shining pool, and sometimes a star.
And may the blessing of the earth be on you - the great round earth;
May you ever have a kindly greeting for people you pass
as you are going along the roads.
And now may the Lord bless you, and bless you kindly.”
Found here
May the blessed sunlight shine upon you and warm your heart till it glows,
Like a great peat fire, so that the stranger may come
and warm himself at it, as well as the friend.
And may the light shine out of the eyes of you,
like a candle set in the windows of a house,
Bidding the wanderer to come in out of the storm.
And may the blessing of the rain be on you - the soft sweet rain.
May it fall upon your spirit so that all the little flowers may spring up,
And shed their sweetness on the air.
And may the blessing of the great rains be on you,
that they beat upon your spirit and wash it fair and clean,
and leave there many a shining pool, and sometimes a star.
And may the blessing of the earth be on you - the great round earth;
May you ever have a kindly greeting for people you pass
as you are going along the roads.
And now may the Lord bless you, and bless you kindly.”
Found here
Wednesday, January 24, 2007
An Irish Blessing
A Blessing"
May the light of your soul guide you.
May the light of your soul bless the work that you do
with the secret love and warmth of your heart.
May you see in what you do the beauty of your own soul.
May the sacredness of your work bring healing, light
and renewal to those who work with you
and to those who see and receive your work.
May your work never weary you.
May it release within you wellsprings of
refreshment, inspiration and excitement.
May you be present in what you do.
May you never become lost in bland absences.
May the day never burden.
May dawn find you awake and alert,
approaching your new day with dreams, possibilities and promises.
May evening find you gracious and fulfilled.
May you go into the night blessed, sheltered and protected.
May your soul calm, console and renew you.
Found here from Anam Cara: A Book of Celtic Wisdom by John O'Donohue
May the light of your soul guide you.
May the light of your soul bless the work that you do
with the secret love and warmth of your heart.
May you see in what you do the beauty of your own soul.
May the sacredness of your work bring healing, light
and renewal to those who work with you
and to those who see and receive your work.
May your work never weary you.
May it release within you wellsprings of
refreshment, inspiration and excitement.
May you be present in what you do.
May you never become lost in bland absences.
May the day never burden.
May dawn find you awake and alert,
approaching your new day with dreams, possibilities and promises.
May evening find you gracious and fulfilled.
May you go into the night blessed, sheltered and protected.
May your soul calm, console and renew you.
Found here from Anam Cara: A Book of Celtic Wisdom by John O'Donohue
Calm and Storm
The last few weeks have seen my cup of life very full: some great opportunities, meeting new people, and there has been the "stuff" that comes to steal the good away. Both exist together in our lives, and I have been very aware of holding both in my full cup. Yet when I have felt it hard to trust people, the reality that I and, and do, trust the Almighty has moved me to a deeper place with Them.
This poem from over at You, A Prayerful Conversation seems to beautifully dovetail into my thinking:
Let nothing disturb you;
Let nothing make you afraid.
All things are passing;
God alone never changes.
Patience gains all things.
Who has God wants nothing.
God alone suffices.
— The Bookmark of Saint Teresa of Avila
Stop over here and read the writers' thoughts.
This poem from over at You, A Prayerful Conversation seems to beautifully dovetail into my thinking:
Let nothing disturb you;
Let nothing make you afraid.
All things are passing;
God alone never changes.
Patience gains all things.
Who has God wants nothing.
God alone suffices.
— The Bookmark of Saint Teresa of Avila
Stop over here and read the writers' thoughts.
Monday, January 22, 2007
The Solace of Solitude
More wisdom from Henri Nouwen on Solitude:
The Voice in the Garden of Solitude
Solitude is the garden for our hearts, which yearn for love. It is the place where our aloneness can bear fruit. It is the home for our restless bodies and anxious minds. Solitude, whether it is connected with a physical space or not, is essential for our spiritual lives. It is not an easy place to be, since we are so insecure and fearful that we are easily distracted by whatever promises immediate satisfaction. Solitude is not immediately satisfying, because in solitude we meet our demons, our addictions, our feelings of lust and anger, and our immense need for recognition and approval. But if we do not run away, we will meet there also the One who says, "Do not be afraid. I am with you, and I will guide you through the valley of darkness."
Let's keep returning to our solitude.
Community Supported by Solitude
Solitude greeting solitude, that's what community is all about. Community is not the place where we are no longer alone but the place where we respect, protect, and reverently greet one another's aloneness. When we allow our aloneness to lead us into solitude, our solitude will enable us to rejoice in the solitude of others. Our solitude roots us in our own hearts. Instead of making us yearn for company that will offer us immediate satisfaction, solitude makes us claim our center and empowers us to call others to claim theirs. Our various solitudes are like strong, straight pillars that hold up the roof of our communal house. Thus, solitude always strengthens community.
quotes from Henri Nouwen Daily Meditations
The Voice in the Garden of Solitude
Solitude is the garden for our hearts, which yearn for love. It is the place where our aloneness can bear fruit. It is the home for our restless bodies and anxious minds. Solitude, whether it is connected with a physical space or not, is essential for our spiritual lives. It is not an easy place to be, since we are so insecure and fearful that we are easily distracted by whatever promises immediate satisfaction. Solitude is not immediately satisfying, because in solitude we meet our demons, our addictions, our feelings of lust and anger, and our immense need for recognition and approval. But if we do not run away, we will meet there also the One who says, "Do not be afraid. I am with you, and I will guide you through the valley of darkness."
Let's keep returning to our solitude.
Community Supported by Solitude
Solitude greeting solitude, that's what community is all about. Community is not the place where we are no longer alone but the place where we respect, protect, and reverently greet one another's aloneness. When we allow our aloneness to lead us into solitude, our solitude will enable us to rejoice in the solitude of others. Our solitude roots us in our own hearts. Instead of making us yearn for company that will offer us immediate satisfaction, solitude makes us claim our center and empowers us to call others to claim theirs. Our various solitudes are like strong, straight pillars that hold up the roof of our communal house. Thus, solitude always strengthens community.
quotes from Henri Nouwen Daily Meditations
Wednesday, January 17, 2007
Artistic Awe - Awe of the Artist
I love movies that deal with the subject of awakening of an artist, or the re-awaking of their gift. In the movie Shadows in the Sun, the main character Wendell Parish, has become a recluse for the past 20 years, wallowing in his grief and choosing to ignore his passion and gift of writing. He tells a younger aspiring writer to remember that “you don’t choose to be an artist – it chooses you”. Films such as this one, Artemisia, Mostly Martha, and Baghdad Café (one’s I have recently watched) are all about the process of letting the artist within choose you.
Imperfections in the artist are revealed through their wrestling with fear, despair, heaviness that is carried because they are so sensitive to their environment. Yet there is the euphoria that comes with the release of a perfect note or melody, colours that entwine and reveal the perfect sunset on the canvas, words that draw the reader in to the story, or nature’s architecture that causes you to inhale and brings tears to your eyes.
What did Michelangelo feel as he lay on his back creating intricate stories on the ceiling of a sacred chapel, or as he hewed David’s image out of marble? Or what did Van Gough feel as he painted the purple and greens together in the Iris so that somewhere someone who felt the depth of pain as he did could find a moment of beauty while looking at the canvas? Did Sibelius know how his rich earthy music, singing of nature, stirs one to sit in stillness and wait to hear the next note while visualizing streams running toward the sea? Would Teresa of Avila know how much her love and passion for Christ would be inspiring poetry 500 years hence? Bernard of Clairveaux could not have known when he wrote “Jesus the very thought of Thee”, that almost 1000 years into the future these words would still be sacred holy words of song to many.
When I think of “art” my first thoughts are of colours moving out of solitude and blending together to form something definable for me to ponder. Lines that cross and blend and create form, or notes that come together and create a melody that is a vocal and visual journey. The delicate sounds of crystal being clinked against crystal, the plethora of threads that give tapestry a story to hold and tell. Drawings in the sand which stay for a moment and are soon swept away by the tide, or paintings on the sidewalk that will become a confused blend of colours in the rain – all are works of art. When I place the raw ingredients on the countertop, smelling the fresh produce, feeling the smooth texture of the skin of various vegetables and fruits, then chopping, blending, sautéing these ingredients, I find the culinary art coming to life with scent, texture, colour, and flavour. I anticipate the wonder of the placing the final product on the table and we partake of it together.
So if the Almighty placed within us the response to the calling to be an artist what were the feelings when They created us? Only recently, after reading a passage on this idea, did I think about the awe and wonder that God must have had as each individual work of art/humanness was under creation. Hands that sculpted every curve and bone, outlining our frame and knowing it before we were even in the womb; from the colour of our hair to the intensity and depth in our eyes, the timber of the voice, fullness of the lips, the shape of our hands and fingers and whether or not we have dimples in our cheeks or our chin. Did God sit back at times and ponder where to go next or even laugh out loud in delight knowing the story of beauty, pain and redemption this life would hold? Did God’s hands rest in infinite tenderness when creating the heart, knowing it would break, mend, break again, and still courageously choose to keep pursuing life? What did my soul look like as the Creature placed it in the centre of my being and wrote the words “you are Mine” upon it? And how did God entwine love and art together so they would call to each other?
Perhaps Mechthild of Magdeburg, who lived some 800 years ago, was an artistic soul whose medium was words. Her words of love speak to me of the beauty of an artists’soul and of the Almighty sitting creating:
God Speaks to the Soul
And God said to the soul:
I desired you before the world began.
I desire you now
As you desire me.
And where the desires of two come together
There love is perfected
HOW GOD ANSWERS THE SOUL
It is my nature that makes me love you often,
For I am love itself.
It is my longing that makes me love you intensely,
I yearn to be loved from the heart.
It is my eternity that makes me love you long,
For I have no end.
Mechthild of Magdeburg
Imperfections in the artist are revealed through their wrestling with fear, despair, heaviness that is carried because they are so sensitive to their environment. Yet there is the euphoria that comes with the release of a perfect note or melody, colours that entwine and reveal the perfect sunset on the canvas, words that draw the reader in to the story, or nature’s architecture that causes you to inhale and brings tears to your eyes.
What did Michelangelo feel as he lay on his back creating intricate stories on the ceiling of a sacred chapel, or as he hewed David’s image out of marble? Or what did Van Gough feel as he painted the purple and greens together in the Iris so that somewhere someone who felt the depth of pain as he did could find a moment of beauty while looking at the canvas? Did Sibelius know how his rich earthy music, singing of nature, stirs one to sit in stillness and wait to hear the next note while visualizing streams running toward the sea? Would Teresa of Avila know how much her love and passion for Christ would be inspiring poetry 500 years hence? Bernard of Clairveaux could not have known when he wrote “Jesus the very thought of Thee”, that almost 1000 years into the future these words would still be sacred holy words of song to many.
When I think of “art” my first thoughts are of colours moving out of solitude and blending together to form something definable for me to ponder. Lines that cross and blend and create form, or notes that come together and create a melody that is a vocal and visual journey. The delicate sounds of crystal being clinked against crystal, the plethora of threads that give tapestry a story to hold and tell. Drawings in the sand which stay for a moment and are soon swept away by the tide, or paintings on the sidewalk that will become a confused blend of colours in the rain – all are works of art. When I place the raw ingredients on the countertop, smelling the fresh produce, feeling the smooth texture of the skin of various vegetables and fruits, then chopping, blending, sautéing these ingredients, I find the culinary art coming to life with scent, texture, colour, and flavour. I anticipate the wonder of the placing the final product on the table and we partake of it together.
So if the Almighty placed within us the response to the calling to be an artist what were the feelings when They created us? Only recently, after reading a passage on this idea, did I think about the awe and wonder that God must have had as each individual work of art/humanness was under creation. Hands that sculpted every curve and bone, outlining our frame and knowing it before we were even in the womb; from the colour of our hair to the intensity and depth in our eyes, the timber of the voice, fullness of the lips, the shape of our hands and fingers and whether or not we have dimples in our cheeks or our chin. Did God sit back at times and ponder where to go next or even laugh out loud in delight knowing the story of beauty, pain and redemption this life would hold? Did God’s hands rest in infinite tenderness when creating the heart, knowing it would break, mend, break again, and still courageously choose to keep pursuing life? What did my soul look like as the Creature placed it in the centre of my being and wrote the words “you are Mine” upon it? And how did God entwine love and art together so they would call to each other?
Perhaps Mechthild of Magdeburg, who lived some 800 years ago, was an artistic soul whose medium was words. Her words of love speak to me of the beauty of an artists’soul and of the Almighty sitting creating:
God Speaks to the Soul
And God said to the soul:
I desired you before the world began.
I desire you now
As you desire me.
And where the desires of two come together
There love is perfected
HOW GOD ANSWERS THE SOUL
It is my nature that makes me love you often,
For I am love itself.
It is my longing that makes me love you intensely,
I yearn to be loved from the heart.
It is my eternity that makes me love you long,
For I have no end.
Mechthild of Magdeburg
Monday, January 15, 2007
Poetry for Today
LAUGHTER CAME FROM EVERY BRICK
Just these two words He spoke
changed my life,
"Enjoy Me."
What a burden I thought I was to carry -
a crucifix, as did He.
Love once said to me, "I know a song,
would you like to hear it?"
And laughter came from every brick in the street
and from every pore
in the sky.
After a night of prayer, He
changed my life when
He sang,
"Enjoy Me."
Teresa of Avila
From Love Poems from God, by Daniel Ladinsky.
Just these two words He spoke
changed my life,
"Enjoy Me."
What a burden I thought I was to carry -
a crucifix, as did He.
Love once said to me, "I know a song,
would you like to hear it?"
And laughter came from every brick in the street
and from every pore
in the sky.
After a night of prayer, He
changed my life when
He sang,
"Enjoy Me."
Teresa of Avila
From Love Poems from God, by Daniel Ladinsky.
Sunday, January 14, 2007
Quick Meals
Some guests were coming over that needed a gluten free diet. I had found some gluten free sausages from Spolumbos Deli in Calgary and so the following quick and easy dish ended up being the lunch for the crowd. It is colourful, tasty, quick and easy as well as hearty. Great with a huge bowl of salad that has some texture (brocolli slaw, lettuce, sunflower seeds, grape tomatoes).
Quick and Easy Rice and Sausage Dish:
Serves 6
3 cups of jasmine rice
1 clove garlic, minced
1 tbsp of chicken broth
Juice of 1 lemon
2 cups of fresh spinach
4 cups of sliced cooked sausage (Spolumbos Italian or a lamb sausage)
2 cups of crumbled feta cheese (save a little to sprinkle on top)
½ cup finely chopped sun dried tomatoes (use the ones in oil)
1 cup chopped fresh parsley
¼ cup of extra virgin olive oil
Salt and pepper to taste
Cook the jasmine rice as per directions, adding the chicken broth and minced garlic before cooking it.
Cook the sausage and then slice them into about fairly thin slices
When rice and sausage are cooked:
Place the raw washed spinach into a large mixing bowl. Add the sun dried tomatoes, and then add the rice and mix together. Rice should be dry and fluffy. Add the cheese, sausage and fresh parsley. Mix the lemon juice and olive oil in last.
(The spinach will be wilted by the warm rice but not watery and it retains it flavour and nutrients this way)
Place in the serving dish and top with a little parsley and feta cheese.
**If you like pine nuts, also add 1 cup of toasted pine nuts to this dish.
Quick and Easy Rice and Sausage Dish:
Serves 6
3 cups of jasmine rice
1 clove garlic, minced
1 tbsp of chicken broth
Juice of 1 lemon
2 cups of fresh spinach
4 cups of sliced cooked sausage (Spolumbos Italian or a lamb sausage)
2 cups of crumbled feta cheese (save a little to sprinkle on top)
½ cup finely chopped sun dried tomatoes (use the ones in oil)
1 cup chopped fresh parsley
¼ cup of extra virgin olive oil
Salt and pepper to taste
Cook the jasmine rice as per directions, adding the chicken broth and minced garlic before cooking it.
Cook the sausage and then slice them into about fairly thin slices
When rice and sausage are cooked:
Place the raw washed spinach into a large mixing bowl. Add the sun dried tomatoes, and then add the rice and mix together. Rice should be dry and fluffy. Add the cheese, sausage and fresh parsley. Mix the lemon juice and olive oil in last.
(The spinach will be wilted by the warm rice but not watery and it retains it flavour and nutrients this way)
Place in the serving dish and top with a little parsley and feta cheese.
**If you like pine nuts, also add 1 cup of toasted pine nuts to this dish.
Wednesday, January 10, 2007
Ancient Words In Early Morning
Proverbs 3
Don't Assume You Know It All
1-2 Good friend, don't forget all I've taught you; take to heart my commands.
They'll help you live a long, long time,
a long life lived full and well.
3-4 Don't lose your grip on Love and Loyalty.
Tie them around your neck; carve their initials on your heart.
Earn a reputation for living well
in God's eyes and the eyes of the people.
5-12 Trust God from the bottom of your heart;
don't try to figure out everything on your own.
Listen for God's voice in everything you do, everywhere you go;
he's the one who will keep you on track.
Don't assume that you know it all.
Run to God! Run from evil!
Your body will glow with health,
your very bones will vibrate with life!
Honor God with everything you own;
give him the first and the best.
Your barns will burst,
your wine vats will brim over.
But don't, dear friend, resent God's discipline;
don't sulk under his loving correction.
It's the child he loves that God corrects;
a father's delight is behind all this.
The Very Tree of Life
13-18 You're blessed when you meet Lady Wisdom,
when you make friends with Madame Insight.
She's worth far more than money in the bank;
her friendship is better than a big salary.
Her value exceeds all the trappings of wealth;
nothing you could wish for holds a candle to her.
With one hand she gives long life,
with the other she confers recognition.
Her manner is beautiful,
her life wonderfully complete.
She's the very Tree of Life to those who embrace her.
Hold her tight—and be blessed!
19-20 With Lady Wisdom, God formed Earth;
with Madame Insight, he raised Heaven.
They knew when to signal rivers and springs to the surface,
and dew to descend from the night skies.
Never Walk Away
21-26 Dear friend, guard Clear Thinking and Common Sense with your life;
don't for a minute lose sight of them.
They'll keep your soul alive and well,
they'll keep you fit and attractive.
You'll travel safely,
you'll neither tire nor trip.
You'll take afternoon naps without a worry,
you'll enjoy a good night's sleep.
No need to panic over alarms or surprises,
or predictions that doomsday's just around the corner,
Because God will be right there with you;
he'll keep you safe and sound.
27-29 Never walk away from someone who deserves help;
your hand is God's hand for that person.
Don't tell your neighbor "Maybe some other time"
or "Try me tomorrow"
when the money's right there in your pocket.
Don't figure ways of taking advantage of your neighbor
when he's sitting there trusting and unsuspecting.
30-32 Don't walk around with a chip on your shoulder,
always spoiling for a fight.
Don't try to be like those who shoulder their way through life.
Why be a bully?
"Why not?" you say. Because God can't stand twisted souls.
It's the straightforward who get his respect.
33-35 God's curse blights the house of the wicked,
but he blesses the home of the righteous.
He gives proud skeptics a cold shoulder,
but if you're down on your luck, he's right there to help.
Wise living gets rewarded with honor;
stupid living gets the booby prize.
Don't Assume You Know It All
1-2 Good friend, don't forget all I've taught you; take to heart my commands.
They'll help you live a long, long time,
a long life lived full and well.
3-4 Don't lose your grip on Love and Loyalty.
Tie them around your neck; carve their initials on your heart.
Earn a reputation for living well
in God's eyes and the eyes of the people.
5-12 Trust God from the bottom of your heart;
don't try to figure out everything on your own.
Listen for God's voice in everything you do, everywhere you go;
he's the one who will keep you on track.
Don't assume that you know it all.
Run to God! Run from evil!
Your body will glow with health,
your very bones will vibrate with life!
Honor God with everything you own;
give him the first and the best.
Your barns will burst,
your wine vats will brim over.
But don't, dear friend, resent God's discipline;
don't sulk under his loving correction.
It's the child he loves that God corrects;
a father's delight is behind all this.
The Very Tree of Life
13-18 You're blessed when you meet Lady Wisdom,
when you make friends with Madame Insight.
She's worth far more than money in the bank;
her friendship is better than a big salary.
Her value exceeds all the trappings of wealth;
nothing you could wish for holds a candle to her.
With one hand she gives long life,
with the other she confers recognition.
Her manner is beautiful,
her life wonderfully complete.
She's the very Tree of Life to those who embrace her.
Hold her tight—and be blessed!
19-20 With Lady Wisdom, God formed Earth;
with Madame Insight, he raised Heaven.
They knew when to signal rivers and springs to the surface,
and dew to descend from the night skies.
Never Walk Away
21-26 Dear friend, guard Clear Thinking and Common Sense with your life;
don't for a minute lose sight of them.
They'll keep your soul alive and well,
they'll keep you fit and attractive.
You'll travel safely,
you'll neither tire nor trip.
You'll take afternoon naps without a worry,
you'll enjoy a good night's sleep.
No need to panic over alarms or surprises,
or predictions that doomsday's just around the corner,
Because God will be right there with you;
he'll keep you safe and sound.
27-29 Never walk away from someone who deserves help;
your hand is God's hand for that person.
Don't tell your neighbor "Maybe some other time"
or "Try me tomorrow"
when the money's right there in your pocket.
Don't figure ways of taking advantage of your neighbor
when he's sitting there trusting and unsuspecting.
30-32 Don't walk around with a chip on your shoulder,
always spoiling for a fight.
Don't try to be like those who shoulder their way through life.
Why be a bully?
"Why not?" you say. Because God can't stand twisted souls.
It's the straightforward who get his respect.
33-35 God's curse blights the house of the wicked,
but he blesses the home of the righteous.
He gives proud skeptics a cold shoulder,
but if you're down on your luck, he's right there to help.
Wise living gets rewarded with honor;
stupid living gets the booby prize.
Tuesday, January 02, 2007
A New Kind of Sight
I am not sure if it can be defined as lingering in a passage of Scripture, or meditating, ruminating...however one wishes to define it, it's where I have been with a portion of John 8 - all about seeing and touching yet knowing little. These words have taken me by surprise, in fact they have arrested me and held me in this teaching of Jesus for weeks.
Living with the 5 senses, embracing them, knowing The Almighty through them, has been my heart life in the last year. To come fully alive and awake with them and therefore learn to live very present and through being present to experience Holy Presence: this is what the Spirit has taught me to embrace LIFE within, to embrace Their presence, and to carry life to the world I walk in. At least I should say I am in this process.
But Jesus words in this passage in John have intrigued me.
"You decide according to what you can see and touch. I don't make judgements like that. But even if I did, my judgement would be true because I wouldn't make it out of the narrowness of my experience but in the largeness of the One who sent me, the Father."
What? Our own experiences is all we have isn't it? It is not the paradigm from which we "know" the world around us?
"You're tied down to the mundane. I'm in touch with what is beyond your horizons. You live in terms of what you see and touch. I'm living on other terms....You're missing God in your lives."
Is the mundane not where we can find and experience you God? Is this quest to live with one's senses fully alive not what the Spirit has been speaking to me about? Or is it that there is more beyond what my senses can experience here?
In the ordinary occupation of eating over this last week of the year 2006, the sacred has been shown to my heart in new ways. Standing in the back of a flower shop with the 2 women who run it, toasting the last day of the year with a plastic cup and a tipple of sherry, with a slice of baguette - this was sacred communion. Or seeing the life in the eyes of a woman at the table on Christmas Day - her first Christmas not spent in hibernation for many years. That was sacred and the meal was a beautiful gift of communion in Holy Presence. Are those the things beyond sight? Beyond touch? Is this the very ordinary where we find God, Jesus, the Spirit, yet miss them because we don't see more, or feel more?
The very words of the Almighty, of Yeshua, the speaking of the Spirit have begun to come alive to my senses - is there more beyond this to know? I am sure of it. As 2007 begins, the theme to my heart and soul is to "see" differently - to see with the heart and to touch life so I can understand what Jesus was talking about and the narrowness of my own experience can be expanded. What does it really mean to live beyond our senses and remain very present in this life with the senses we are created with? have begun to travel this road more purposefully and will see what is revealed.
Living with the 5 senses, embracing them, knowing The Almighty through them, has been my heart life in the last year. To come fully alive and awake with them and therefore learn to live very present and through being present to experience Holy Presence: this is what the Spirit has taught me to embrace LIFE within, to embrace Their presence, and to carry life to the world I walk in. At least I should say I am in this process.
But Jesus words in this passage in John have intrigued me.
"You decide according to what you can see and touch. I don't make judgements like that. But even if I did, my judgement would be true because I wouldn't make it out of the narrowness of my experience but in the largeness of the One who sent me, the Father."
What? Our own experiences is all we have isn't it? It is not the paradigm from which we "know" the world around us?
"You're tied down to the mundane. I'm in touch with what is beyond your horizons. You live in terms of what you see and touch. I'm living on other terms....You're missing God in your lives."
Is the mundane not where we can find and experience you God? Is this quest to live with one's senses fully alive not what the Spirit has been speaking to me about? Or is it that there is more beyond what my senses can experience here?
In the ordinary occupation of eating over this last week of the year 2006, the sacred has been shown to my heart in new ways. Standing in the back of a flower shop with the 2 women who run it, toasting the last day of the year with a plastic cup and a tipple of sherry, with a slice of baguette - this was sacred communion. Or seeing the life in the eyes of a woman at the table on Christmas Day - her first Christmas not spent in hibernation for many years. That was sacred and the meal was a beautiful gift of communion in Holy Presence. Are those the things beyond sight? Beyond touch? Is this the very ordinary where we find God, Jesus, the Spirit, yet miss them because we don't see more, or feel more?
The very words of the Almighty, of Yeshua, the speaking of the Spirit have begun to come alive to my senses - is there more beyond this to know? I am sure of it. As 2007 begins, the theme to my heart and soul is to "see" differently - to see with the heart and to touch life so I can understand what Jesus was talking about and the narrowness of my own experience can be expanded. What does it really mean to live beyond our senses and remain very present in this life with the senses we are created with? have begun to travel this road more purposefully and will see what is revealed.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)