Summer
There is something about the way I straighten and clean my home that tells you exactly what I am doing in my soul.
I am making something beautiful.
It is beyond words, beyond this place and this time.
In this realm far and near at once, I join a song that has already begun.
I sing.
I project.
I order my being into unity, the place made for me from before the dawn of time
And now, summer, this summer of 2013 is nearly upon us and I am occasionally weeping for myself and also for Lee Rigby, the solder killed this week in Great Britain.
Can we stop trusting in cruelty to save us?
Can we confront one another as Loyau-Kennett engaged the men who killed most obviously?
Let that act of terror be our last act of terror on the earth.
We must stop, look, and listen for the other way.
We will find that it is possible and good to dwell in unity.
I am making something beautiful.
It is beyond words, beyond this place and this time.
In this realm far and near at once, I join a song that has already begun.
I sing.
I project.
I order my being into unity, the place made for me from before the dawn of time
And now, summer, this summer of 2013 is nearly upon us and I am occasionally weeping for myself and also for Lee Rigby, the solder killed this week in Great Britain.
Can we stop trusting in cruelty to save us?
Can we confront one another as Loyau-Kennett engaged the men who killed most obviously?
Let that act of terror be our last act of terror on the earth.
We must stop, look, and listen for the other way.
We will find that it is possible and good to dwell in unity.
The Theology of Delight by Scott Cairns
Imagine a world, this ridiculous,
tentative bud blooming
in your hand. There in your hand, a world
opening up, stretching, after the image
of your hand. Imagine
a field of sheep grazing, or a single sheep
grazing and wandering in the delight
of grass, of wildflowers
lifting themselves, after their fashion,
to be flowers. Or a woman, lifting her hand
to touch her brow, and the intricacy
of the motion that frees her
to set the flat part of her hand carelessly
to her brow. Once, while walking, I happened
across a woman whose walking had brought her
to a shaded spot near a field. Enjoying
that cool place together, we sat watching sheep
and the wind moving the wildflowers in the field.
As we rose to set out again, our movement
startled the flock into running; they ran
only a little way before settling again
to their blank consideration of the grass.
But one of them continued, its prancing
taking it far into the field where,
free of the others, it leapt for no clear reason,
and set out walking through a gathering
of flowers, parting that grip of flowers with its face.
tentative bud blooming
in your hand. There in your hand, a world
opening up, stretching, after the image
of your hand. Imagine
a field of sheep grazing, or a single sheep
grazing and wandering in the delight
of grass, of wildflowers
lifting themselves, after their fashion,
to be flowers. Or a woman, lifting her hand
to touch her brow, and the intricacy
of the motion that frees her
to set the flat part of her hand carelessly
to her brow. Once, while walking, I happened
across a woman whose walking had brought her
to a shaded spot near a field. Enjoying
that cool place together, we sat watching sheep
and the wind moving the wildflowers in the field.
As we rose to set out again, our movement
startled the flock into running; they ran
only a little way before settling again
to their blank consideration of the grass.
But one of them continued, its prancing
taking it far into the field where,
free of the others, it leapt for no clear reason,
and set out walking through a gathering
of flowers, parting that grip of flowers with its face.
August 28, 2012 The Table of the Lord Jesus
One way I think about receiving God's healing is at a table. At the head of this table sits the Risen Lord. There is a place for each one of us. In order to eat the food our good Lord has provided, we must name what we have actually been chewing on our whole lives. When I did this, I experienced God with me in a fuller way than I ever had. When I "ate" or accepted the facts of my life, I was made strong. Grace or Spirit's gifts, however we name this experience, when received transforms our bitterness into something nutritious for our souls. We are truly spiritual beings having physical experiences. Our true selves are more than the particulars of our histories on earth. When we tap into transcendent resources, we become stronger than our enemies and receive a greater perspective on what we have experienced.
A meditation after reading Pacifists in the Crossfire by Luke Mogelson in the NYT magazine May 20, 2012.
For Gulali
Little girl with no left leg or is it your right leg that is now gone?
Does it matter?
How do you weigh your losses when you've suffered more than one soul can count?
One leg missing every day. Every day you awake with one leg gone.
What can you do that you did before?
How do you feel?
By-the-way, who is left of your family, clan and town?
What is left?
What good could possibly be worth your right leg or was it your left?
A random loss is a personal loss for someone.
I cannot give you back your missing leg. But I can think of you.
I can remember what I read of your story and so many stories and think of you.
I am a 61 year old woman thinking of you.
A woman with 2 legs, 2 arms, pretty much all my body parts thinking of you.
For Gulali
Little girl with no left leg or is it your right leg that is now gone?
Does it matter?
How do you weigh your losses when you've suffered more than one soul can count?
One leg missing every day. Every day you awake with one leg gone.
What can you do that you did before?
How do you feel?
By-the-way, who is left of your family, clan and town?
What is left?
What good could possibly be worth your right leg or was it your left?
A random loss is a personal loss for someone.
I cannot give you back your missing leg. But I can think of you.
I can remember what I read of your story and so many stories and think of you.
I am a 61 year old woman thinking of you.
A woman with 2 legs, 2 arms, pretty much all my body parts thinking of you.
A Morning Prayer
Smile and Receive the Gifts of God
I've been enjoying my smiling lately, opportunities that come my way to smile.
At the top of this podcast I need to acknowledge that there are those who cannot smile. There are those who would only smile out of insanity or ulterior motives. But a true smile, one rooted in joy, tells us of a place of fullness, a place I want to linger.
I remember having a conversation last week with a friend here at this breakfast table where I am sitting this morning And as she concluded saying something she smiled. I could have sat in the rays of that smile for a long time, soaking up the beauty of what she was offering, herself.
And this week, at the end of a class, one of a series of meetings on dreams, one of the younger women said, “I come here and I am so tired I sit and fall asleep. And I wonder why am I coming. But then I look across the room at you," and here she looked at me, "and I see you smiling at me and I want to be here."
I'm so glad that I can receive and give heart-felt smiles that are memorable, that invite another to relax, put down some cares and enjoy what they can.
There's a mantra in spiritual formation about noticing. When you begin to notice, you will notice more. And I think that can be applied to smiling. If we will smile and linger in that smile, in the memory of that smile, then we might be able to expand our sense of being comforted, actively being comforted. For God sends God's love to us in new ways every day, every moment of the day. God comes to us offering us more.
When I relax and maybe smile, I'm in a posture to receive those gifts, these very subtle gifts that come to me really not opened yet and I need to hold them, to begin to notice that there's a gift coming to me, a gift that I maybe have received but can barely acknowledge, barely can imagine the potential of.
So today smile, and receive, open yourself to the gifts of God for the people of God.
At the top of this podcast I need to acknowledge that there are those who cannot smile. There are those who would only smile out of insanity or ulterior motives. But a true smile, one rooted in joy, tells us of a place of fullness, a place I want to linger.
I remember having a conversation last week with a friend here at this breakfast table where I am sitting this morning And as she concluded saying something she smiled. I could have sat in the rays of that smile for a long time, soaking up the beauty of what she was offering, herself.
And this week, at the end of a class, one of a series of meetings on dreams, one of the younger women said, “I come here and I am so tired I sit and fall asleep. And I wonder why am I coming. But then I look across the room at you," and here she looked at me, "and I see you smiling at me and I want to be here."
I'm so glad that I can receive and give heart-felt smiles that are memorable, that invite another to relax, put down some cares and enjoy what they can.
There's a mantra in spiritual formation about noticing. When you begin to notice, you will notice more. And I think that can be applied to smiling. If we will smile and linger in that smile, in the memory of that smile, then we might be able to expand our sense of being comforted, actively being comforted. For God sends God's love to us in new ways every day, every moment of the day. God comes to us offering us more.
When I relax and maybe smile, I'm in a posture to receive those gifts, these very subtle gifts that come to me really not opened yet and I need to hold them, to begin to notice that there's a gift coming to me, a gift that I maybe have received but can barely acknowledge, barely can imagine the potential of.
So today smile, and receive, open yourself to the gifts of God for the people of God.
Grandmother's Light
Speak from the heart. When you speak from the heart, you speak to God. James Carse
going to hell
On my "essays and papers" page you can find three short entries on the value of knowing our stories. If you can make it past the first 40 seconds of this podcast, you will hear this story clearly.
talking with the Risen Lord about dying and living
Yesterday Marie Colvin, an American journalist and Remi Ochlik a French photojournalist were killed in a shelling attack in Syria. Their determination to bear witness to the extreme suffering and dying of Syrian civilians was startling to me.
Earlier this month, I prayerfully conversed with the Risen Lord about the horrors of suffering. I share this with you in honor of their lives. I was introduced to making a colloquy, as a spiritual art, when I took the Ignatian retreat. During that time I was asked to go to my cell or another quiet place to pray and in my prayer speak with the Risen Lord, the Holy Spirit, God the Father or perhaps Mary, the Mother of Jesus. I had a habit of coming back to my director with only my side of the conversation. I learned to listen for God's response.
Yesterday I was reading John 11. In that text Jesus has separate conversations with Martha and with Mary. After her initial remark, Martha has a theological discussion with Jesus. His engagement with Mary is significantly different. Together they weep.
I say this to help you understand that if you cannot imagine having a conversation with the Risen Lord like mine, then you surely wouldn't. We have unique perspectives and I only offer you mine.
May we all give ourselves to the healing of the world.
Earlier this month, I prayerfully conversed with the Risen Lord about the horrors of suffering. I share this with you in honor of their lives. I was introduced to making a colloquy, as a spiritual art, when I took the Ignatian retreat. During that time I was asked to go to my cell or another quiet place to pray and in my prayer speak with the Risen Lord, the Holy Spirit, God the Father or perhaps Mary, the Mother of Jesus. I had a habit of coming back to my director with only my side of the conversation. I learned to listen for God's response.
Yesterday I was reading John 11. In that text Jesus has separate conversations with Martha and with Mary. After her initial remark, Martha has a theological discussion with Jesus. His engagement with Mary is significantly different. Together they weep.
I say this to help you understand that if you cannot imagine having a conversation with the Risen Lord like mine, then you surely wouldn't. We have unique perspectives and I only offer you mine.
May we all give ourselves to the healing of the world.
A Prayer
Lord. I cannot comprehend what you are doing. Some work is so slowly done, I'm sure it is only visible from a point in the future. Make us one. Make us whole. Make our energy good. Thank you for what you've done and continue to do in the world.
Look at Light
I wrote this poem on a road trip around Lake Michigan that my husband and I took last October.
Look at Light
Look at light on the leaves in the morning,
the leaves readying themselves to leap, to be changed.
Steve Jobs did it, and we have heard bits
of his story, our story in his life and death.
I am being called to "do it," to release and be reborn today
in this my latest season, my current season of growth
which at times appears as only diminishment.
Look again at these leaves bright, lit from behind
and now appear so beautifully this morning.
Each is held well on its branch, now glowing
gold, orange, with shadows of green.
The light is changing, different branches come to me
lit so well for me to see cascading.
Now I lean forward in my car seat and see the whole of the tree
this chestnut tree that could be 60 years old as I am.
So I stand as the tree stands, rooted, healthy
welcoming light on every part of my visible self.
Wanting, learning to trust the work, the life of God in me,
God with us, beside this very crowded state highway.
Look at light on the leaves in the morning,
the leaves readying themselves to leap, to be changed.
Steve Jobs did it, and we have heard bits
of his story, our story in his life and death.
I am being called to "do it," to release and be reborn today
in this my latest season, my current season of growth
which at times appears as only diminishment.
Look again at these leaves bright, lit from behind
and now appear so beautifully this morning.
Each is held well on its branch, now glowing
gold, orange, with shadows of green.
The light is changing, different branches come to me
lit so well for me to see cascading.
Now I lean forward in my car seat and see the whole of the tree
this chestnut tree that could be 60 years old as I am.
So I stand as the tree stands, rooted, healthy
welcoming light on every part of my visible self.
Wanting, learning to trust the work, the life of God in me,
God with us, beside this very crowded state highway.