For me, vision is seeing what can be done for those not yet visible, i.e. the next generation. To do this, I begin by caring directly for those most vulnerable within my sphere of influence.

As I write, I am sure there are other ways to describe the role and impact of vision. How do you understand vision?

November 29, 2011 Terry Gross, of Fresh Air on NPR, interviewed Michio Kaku, author of The Physics of the Future: How Science Will Shape Human Destiny and Our Daily Lives in the Year 2100.

GROSS: If I asked you what the theory is, would I understand your answer?

(SOUNDBITE OF LAUGHTER)

KAKU: Well, very simply, that all the sub-atomic particles - neutrons, protons, quarks - are nothing but musical notes on a tiny rubber band, that when you twang the rubber band, it changes from one frequency to another. So it changes from an electron to a neutrino. And you twang it enough, it can turn into all the subatomic particles we see in the world.

So all the subatomic particles that make up our body are nothing but different notes on many, many, many tiny little violin strings, little rubber bands, and that physics is nothing but the laws of harmony of these vibrating strings. Chemistry is nothing but the melodies you can play on these vibrating strings. The universe is a symphony of strings, and the mind of God that Einstein wrote eloquently about the last 30 years of his life, is cosmic music resonating through 11-dimensional hyperspace. That is the mind of God.

A young woman from Nicaragua is living with us this semester. As far as I can tell, she has minimal exposure to vegetables beyond potatoes, cabbage, onions and kidney beans. She was accustomed to eating beans and rice for breakfast and dinner with chicken and rice, some cabbage or salad for lunch. That strikes me as a pretty strong diet.

Living here, she has begun to skip breakfast, eats a sandwich and apples for lunch, and shares dinner with us. She has developed a penchant for corn chips and cookies.

For Americans, my husband and I are inconsistently careful. For breakfast we make green smoothies, for lunch we normally eat leftovers from an earlier dinner, and for dinner we eat vegetables, grains and and often some meat. Through out my day, I throw in as many snacks as I can and still please my nutritionist.

Our long-term house guest picks at the small servings she takes of our dinner. She does not cook what she would prefer. She likes meat and pasta, which we sometimes do serve. But we do not serve that every night.

I care about this young woman and wish for her sake and mine, that she could enjoy our shared meals.

It is an aggravating experience to talk with her. I say, "But aren't you going to tell your children to eat their vegetables?" She has no response. If she doesn't change, there won't be many vegetables on their plates to worry about eating. Maybe in Nicaragua there are not many vegetables available. If that is so, she will most likely return to beans and rice as her staples, which is a stronger choice than the ones she is making currently.

I have been pondering the human dimension involved in receiving the gifts of, not just your host family, but of God. We pray for all kinds of things, like peace, happiness, stability, grace, truth, light, love. Receiving these gifts of God requires something of us. We need to be willing to be changed and that change may feel as if we are being turned inside out.

Psalm 119:33 and 34 say, "Teach me, O Lord, the way of your statutes, and I will observe it to the end. Give me understanding, that I may keep your law and observe it with my whole heart." The Psalmist asks for good teaching vowing to follow in its path. That is easier said than done. We all know more than we consistently practice.

In Matthew 23:1-3 we read, "Then Jesus said to the crowds and to his disciples, ‘The scribes and the Pharisees sit on Moses’ seat; therefore, do whatever they teach you and follow it; but do not do as they do, for they do not practice what they teach." Jesus knows how easy it is to hold one another to a standard we cannot attain.

So I am pondering my responsibility to receive God's truth that I desire in in the depths of my soul. How often do I argue, resist, or diminish the truths, the gifts of God? I want to become stronger, purer, a more consistent child of God for God's glory and my benefit.

The area in which I most often resist is with my gift of writing. It is very difficult for me to imagine that writing matters, will make a difference in my life or anyone else's life. Which reminds me of the subtle difference eating vegetables makes in one's life over time.

Therefore, I have set myself down on my desk chair and am writing this morning, trusting this gift to reveal its meaning as God wills.

Harsh and hammering experiences can come from outside of ourselves or from within. Here are two examples. In the first I expected a harsh assessment and in the second I had so internalized harshness, that I was unnecessarily punishing of myself.

My husband and I have recently returned from a week in California with our daughter, my mother, and my siblings. My husband is the one in our household who pays the bills. When he had the time to tally our expenses and pay the top of the month bills, I was ready to hear a harsh assessment of our financial situation and that we would need to spend very carefully for the remainder of the pay period.

To my surprise, Jonny spoke without any harshness. He had balanced our checkbook and was able to report a good amount of money was left for this two week period.

Last August, when I presented to my peers in our group of spiritual directors, I had punished myself for having made a mistake with a directee earlier in the summer. Coincidentally, in the adjoining room, there was a repairman hammering nails into something for most of the hour. One member reflected that I was hammering myself, like the repairman was hammering on the wood. She asked me if I could I forgive myself for making a mistake. We all makes mistakes.

Like most people, I have been traumatized. Unfortunately, I have also mastered the art of traumatizing myself. Although I have been actively seeking healing for ten years, I am not used to the peace of mind, spirit, and body that the Risen One brings to me. I can experience it, but then it seems that a part of me readies myself for more of what I know so well. This is partly logical, for when we come to the Lord for healing, our circumstances don't change overnight. Yet, what a delight it is to experience having enough and being good enough.