"God of Life, happy are all who trust in you!"

Yesterday was a day of twists and turns, a day of surprises and unexpected moments of grace.  I had done some work in the office, spent time at a meeting and then decided I needed to go to Staples for a desk light.  Before I go on, let me be clear, I did not need to go to Staples and I found out I didn't need a desk light.  In retrospect, I wanted to take a drive with the dog and listen to my book in the car.  Relax and free my brain up a bit.

I am here to tell you that the Staples in Rochester no longer carries desk lights.  Who knew?  That seemed like a no brainer to me.  But as each day goes by and I become a day older, I come to know more deeply that what I consider obvious to me is often not reality for others.  What I did come to believe that I was meant to run into a young man that works there.  In my disbelief that there were no desk lights I asked for assistance.

As we began to look throughout the store for these lights he began to tell me his story.  He sells baseball cards and he too needs a light on his desk.  Actually, he is legally blind and is 5 or 6 years free of a brain tumor.  With a big smile and exuding joy, he looked up at me and said, "you wouldn't have guessed, huh? "

Before you picture me being drawn into this story with interest or enthusiasm, let me set you straight.  Sometimes with God's help I am able to act in a loving and appropriate way, when inside my head, I am thinking, " Hello, I'm glad your happy and well, but I just want my light and really don't want to hear another story today."  We continued to walk and it had already become clear that there were no lights in the store.  I thanked him very much for his help and thanked him for sharing his story and wished him a great day.  I turned to the right and began looking at something else.

Approaching on my left is my new friend.  He stopped and began the story in full detail, beginning in 2007.  I am now thinking, this man is full of joy, he is telling me his story of grace and healing, I am supposed to be hearing this story.  Listen, be still, honor the story.  Telling on myself again, while I am thinking these things I am also thinking, I just wanted to come in and shop, by myself, looking at whatever I want, taking as long as I want.  My new friend looks at me with joy and gratitude and says, " I believe in having a good attitude and being kind, life is very short and I am grateful.  If you ever think telling my story could help anyone, go for it.  That's what I do."

God's unrelenting love for me is the very place that I find hope and solace.  Even on the days when I am not wanting to hear it.  Even on the days when I think my "God" time would never be in Staples, I am surprised.

Later in the afternoon, I was surprised by another work related issue.  One of the sayings that many of us have heard is, "If you want to make God laugh, tell God your plans.".  I learned years ago to pray for God's will to be done, not mine.  The task of course is to step back, be present in our lives and look for God in the most unexpected places.  Yesterday, God told me a story of hope, healing and joy in Staples, in Rochester, NH. Yesterday, God showed me how we can "do" church in the world in ways that surprise and startle others.  Even those of us that profess to be faithful.

During this period of Lent I continue to pray for God's help and guidance in my life.  I am working on being present in my body, by eating well, most of the time, by picking up the piano again and by doing some piece of art on a regular basis.  The above is a piece I did this morning.  It is a method called Zentangling.  It is a form of doodling and meditation.  I find it very soothing and centering.  I will put the website in the resourse section to the right.

Below is an interpretation of Psalm 84, written by Joan Chittister.  I read this before I began to draw and after I finished.  I offer it to you on this day.

Psalm 84
How lovely is your dwelling place, God of Life.
I am longing and yearning, yearning for your presence.
My whole being cries out to you; to you, the living God.

Even the sparrows find a home
and the swallows, a nest for their young
As for me, I search for you,
God of Life, Eternal One.

All who dwell in your presence forever sing your praise.
The hearts of all whose strength is in you
are set on Zion’s path.

As they make their way through the valley of bitterness,
They make it a place of running springs.
The early autumn rains cloth it with blessings,
they walk with ever growing strength.
They will see you, God of Zion;
God of life, hear my prayer; listen, God of Israel.

Turn to us, God, our refuge;
look on the face of your anointed.

One day within your house
is better than a thousand without you.
The threshold of your house
I prefer to the dwellings of the wicked.

You are our source of strength.
You give us your favor and glory.
You will not refuse any good
to all who walk in sincerity.

God of Life, happy are all who trust in you!

Birthing something new

"Be not lax in celebrating. 

Be not lazy in the festive service of God. 

Be ablaze with enthusiasm.

Let us be alive, burning offering before the altar of God. "

     Hildegard of Bingen

The wind is howling outside, the windows shake and the tress bend back and forth.  On this cold February day I find myself blessed with a warm home, shelter from the storm and the wisdom of God's love in my heart. 

Lent 1 is upon us and I find myself leaning into the idea that God is birthing something new.  This is not just in my own life, but in the life of the church and those seeking to be in relationship with God.  More and more we are talking about how we are able to bring the gifts and blessings that many of us find in church out into the world.  

I have often found myself believing that I needed to temper my enthusiasm for God, temper my joy and passion for the love, hope and life that I know to be present on the path of faith.  Each of us are created to be exactly the person God needs us to be.  We are created in the image of love, compassion and hope.  We are created extroverts, introverts, we are created as artists, musicians, we are created and called to justice, peace and the well being of the world, the environment, the other.  But, most of all we are created to be the living reminder that God is alive and present in the world around us.  

In the book, A Season for the Spirit" Martin Smith writes:

"If it is the Spirit of Jesus within us we will be able to recognize two movements: 

1. We will experience the Father moving to embrace us; 'you are my beloved Son, you are my beloved daughter.  
2. We will be impelled to embrace the suffering world in compassion.  The Spirit of Jesus moves us as it moved him, to identify ourselves with a broken world and to bring it within the reconciling embrace of God.   Intimacy with God, identification with the fallen creatures of God, always both.  "  

We gather in communities of faith to share the sacred story and be reminded how we are called to enter into it yet again, on this day, in this time.  We also gather to take Jesus in, to receive the grace and healing that we are called to take out to the world.  This cannot be possible or remain relevant if we spend more time trying to preserve a structure than remembering what brings us there in the first place.  

"Most of us have a primary defense mechanism against being overwhelmed by the pain of the world and our own pain.  The price we pay is that it also numbs our capacity for joy, but until we surrender to the spirit of God we reckon the price is worth it.  The strongest sign of the Spirit working within us is simply that the anesthetic  begins to wear off. "  Martin Smith

Loving God with our whole hearts, minds and souls is a powerful and very disruptive thing to do.  Often we love the prayers of peace and comfort, they are true and wonderful.  But with that peace and comfort comes the knowledge that we are not alone, we are called to be there for each other.  Our fear and insecurity causes us to want to hold on to what we have, to ward off anything that feels different or new.  And yet, life, death and resurrection is the core of the story we live. 

God is always causing new life to be brought forth.  God yearns for the excitement and vibrant energy that comes with new beginnings.  God also knows deeply the grief of loss.  God knows of our fear that new life will not come, or that it will be scary and uncomfortable.  God knows that to have faith we must walk through the unknowing.  God knows your fear and is there.  

As we enter this new day, with the wind blowing around us, let us wonder what God is stirring up in us this day.  You are God's Beloved Child.  The Good news is for all of us, everywhere, in every corner of the world, those known and unknown.  How is the Spirit working in you on this day?  

" Spirit who filled Jesus, no wonder I shy away from the mystery of your indwelling!  The moment I consent to your living and moving in me, and trust you, the numbness I have relied on to get through life begins to wear off.  Give me the faith to be vulnerable to the joy the Father has in me through my union with Jesus the Beloved.  Give me the courage to share the pain of the world which is so far from it's home and centre, the Living God.  Amen

From; "A Season for the  Spirit" , Martin Smith

All things will be made new.

"Knowing and sharing earth's pain may be a precondition for knowing and
feeling the depth of God's love."    Walter J. Harrelson

What seems like many years ago now, I was in Seminary.  This was a time in life that was full of growth, self awareness, rebirth and tremendous loss.  The path for all of us is a winding and lonely one sometimes.  When we see new life and healing on the horizon, we often forget the loss and grief that scatters the trail ahead.

During one particularly dark period a wonderful and gifted friend shared with me the healing and comfort she found in the arts.  One that was particularly helpful to her was that of mosaics.  The picture that I share above is the first piece I ever did.  She lead me through the process and allowed me to experience the coming together of broken pieces.

My first assignment was to go find a piece of something, preferably wood, that I wanted to work on.  There was renovation happening on campus and the dumpster was full of scrape wood.  As I approached the big green metal box, I noticed that the cover was far from able to close, as it was so full.  Sticking out of the side was this piece of wood, one I could easily carry and one that was not damaged. This would be the foundation of the work.

In the Book of Common Prayer that is used in the Episcopal Church there is a collect that will forever be my favorite.

"O God of unchangeable power and eternal light:  Look favorably on your whole Church, that wonderful and sacred mystery; by the effectual working of your providence, carry out in tranquility the plan of salvation; let the whole world see and know that things which were cast down are being raised up, and things which had grown old are being made new, and that all things are being brought to their perfection by him through whom all things were made, your Son Jesus Christ our Lord; who lives and reigns with you, in the unity of the Holy Spirit, one God, for ever and ever. Amen." 

As I slowly pulled this piece of wood from the dumpster, I knew that somehow, all things were being made new.  I trudged back to the studio and presented my find.  It was graciously accepted.  I was next given a bag of glass tiles, some newspaper and a hammer.  "Go outside, wrap the bag in the newspaper and smash the pieces with the hammer to break up the tiles."  This seemed easy enough.  There was a concrete ledge outside the studio.  I carefully wrapped my bag in newspaper and began to lift the hammer and brought it down with a very satisfying thud.  This was just the beginning.  I loved smashing those tiles.  My guess is I forgot the tiles and just got such satisfaction from releasing the anger, from feeling powerful, from feeling alive, that it took on a life of it's own.  At some point I stopped and unwrapped the bag.  Dust.  I can't help but think of the Ash Wednesday Liturgy, "Remember that you are dust, and to dust you shall return."  Dust was all that was left.  

Gathering my supplies and putting them under my arm, I slowly returned to the studio and showed my guide what I had done.  With a wonderful and very loving expression, she handed me another bag of tiles and suggested I go try again.  I must have needed to do that, but that maybe this time I could bring back some pieces.  This was when I began to know that we were doing far more than creating art.  With God's help and a wonderful guide, I was going to find a way to piece my life back together.  

We are just leaving Epiphany and the celebration of the light.  Even in the dark times I have come to know that God is there with us.  Perhaps the light is just beyond our sight, perhaps all we can see is a shadow.  But in that dumpster and with dust and eventually pieces of glass, together came a cross that at it's center was God's light and love.  We seldom know where that is going to lead us, we seldom know how the pieces will look.  But at the center is the light.  

After sitting peacefully at a table, creating a shape and placing the broken pieces in glue, I could see it coming together.  I came to love the work that was before me.  As in so many things in life, the next stage was waiting.  Waiting for it to dry and become stable.  I packed my bags up, thanked my guide for that time and promised to be back the next week.  Life was calling me back and I felt far more prepared to enter it.  

The next week, I discovered to my horror what the next step was.  Entering the studio was fun and exciting.  I was looking forward to visiting the work and enter the next step.  I was given a pile of dust, told to add water to it until it was just the right constancy and come back.  The grout was funny stuff, but I got it to a point where I believed it to be good.  Off I went, back to my guide.  Now, with gloves on I was to completely cover my work with this goop.  What!  What if it ruined it, What if I didn't like it afterward, What if???  The grouts job is to bring all the pieces together, to be the very thing that makes it all one.  To use it most effectively, the original piece must disappear and something new will emerge. Letting go, trusting my guide, trusting the process, letting go. 

With my hands I began to dump piles of this goop on my art, I began to cover the light and color so that it could not be seen anymore.  Smooth it all over, be sure that no spot is forgotten, no crevasse left unfilled.  It was to stay this way for a little while, but eventually I was to take it to the sink, wash away the residue of the grout.  I was to only leave what was needed to make the piece complete.  As the cloth moved over the surface, the light began to show through, color surfaced.  As what was not needed feel away, it became clear that something truly had been made new.  

I keep this piece, not because it is a magnificent piece of art.  This work reflects the path that is our life with God.  We are all called to those hard and painful places.  There are times of darkness and times of tremendous light.  Life is often lived in the middle.  

When I reflect on this piece, I am reminded that I continue to be called to trust God, to let go, to trust whatever process is present in my life today, to surround myself with wise guides and companions, and to know, really know, that all things will be made new.  

Peace

Where do we find peace?  This is a picture of my dog Riley as he sleeps with his head on my knitting bag.  In my imagination I am running around trying to be productive and get things done.  Perhaps getting caught up on emails, phone calls or chores around the house.

It is a Tuesday.    Where is God in my day?  God is everywhere.  How easy it is in the everyday stuff of life to forget, to feel alone.  God is everywhere, here, there, in the questions, in the answers, but most of all in those times of peace.

"May the light of your soul guide you.
May the light of your soul bless the work
you do with the secret love and warmth of your heart.
May you see in what you do the beauty of your own soul.
Maya the sacredness of your work bring healing, light an 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 the bland absences.
May the day never burden you.
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.  "

Amen  John O'Donohue

May you know peace that is God, and the passion that is fire.

Epiphany is approaching.  The kings are traveling across many miles to see what is actually happening.  They are following a star.  As I have said so many times before, John O'Donohue often puts to words things I didn't even know my soul was trying to speak.  As we begin this new year, may you  know the peace that is God and the passion that is fire.  I offer this prayer by John O'Donohue.

May the light of you soul guide you.

May the light of your soul bless the work

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 the bland absences.  

May the day never burden you. 

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.  

Amen.

Holy Peace

 

"Loving God,

Only open

your wings

and I will climb beneath their shadow

and find holy peace.

Amen"

Suzanne M. Lewis

 

 

As the second week of Advent unfolds, we are reminded of the importance of Peace.  For many this seems like one of those things that we may achieve after all that we "need" to do is done.  This time of year it is so easy to look around our lives and find so many things that legitimately need to be done.  We have work commitments, church commitments, family commitments and then when we do stop and look around we see all the need in the world.  Peace, what a great idea, if only I had time. 

 

It has taken me many years to realize that it is actually when we can operate from a place of peace that we are able to get far more done.  Maybe the lists change, maybe the "must dos" change, or the "must haves" are turned on their ear. 

 

The reading today from the "Living in Joyful Hope" speaks to the idea of crawling under the wings of God.  It is when we feel secure and safe that we are most able to invite God into our lives.  The Holy Spirit has a way of turning our world upside down, or perhaps turning in right side up. 

 

As we pray today and reflect on the idea of Peace, I invite us all to slow down.  What does Peace mean to you?  How are you prepared to invite God into your life? 

 



 

"Mary said to the angel, 'How can this be, since I am a virgin?"

Luke 1;34

 

Dear God,

Mary's whole life sounds

a single pure note,

perfectly in tune

with your plan.

Like Mary, I will listen for the music of your joy

with my whole self.

My only wish is to place myself in your hands

so that you can make me vibrate,

like Mary,

one with you.

Amen   

 

                                                                                                                    Suzanne M. Lewis

 

In a reading from "Living in Joyful Hope", Suzanne makes the comment that Mary dares to ask a question of the angel.  She dares to speak up.  How hard it is sometimes for us to use our voices.  For some it is equally important to discern how to use them as instruments of good. not pain or as a weapon.  We live in a world so full of ways to communicate, words and noise surround us.  Sometimes I wonder if anything is really being said. How can we best decide what is important or true. 

 

Recently I was away for a week on silent retreat.  It was a blessing and long overdue.  I have been going on silent retreats for years.  That might seem strange for some of you that know me, and can't imagine me not talking for days at a time.  The truth is that I love the silence, I love the permission to just be and drop all those parts of our personality that allow us to engage in the world around us. 

 

In yesterday's reading, Suzanne tells us that "when we pray, we curl up on God's lap, we share the throne of David and we abide in eternity."  Being away allowed me to remember that feeling.  I was reminded when we step away and turn to God, we also return to our selves, return to the source of being that begins and ends with the divine.  The messages of judgement, fear, and anxiety are all connected to the world around us.  It is in stepping away that we are reminded that God is always with us and that finding our voice, asking God where we can best be used and how is an important part of our journey.  Of course, with that comes the necessity to listen. 

 

"If once we have received a real taste of the sacred, we become hungry for more. Our small awarenss leads us to recognize how scant, how provisional, how circumscribed we are.  And though limited, we thrist to be complete.  To live with this sense of lack is part of our human condition.  To meet this need becomes our quest.  Our hunger, though painful, is a tremendous gift.  It animates and energizes us for all the work the Spirit invites us to do. Our huger impels us to seek the Eternal."

 

 

In this season of advent, we are called to make room, to be still and come to know God.  We are called to look throught the darkness in our lives and the world and see the glimer of light.  We are also called to be that light.  During this time we are also inudated with messages about buying the right gift, baking the right food, making joy and light in ways the world tells us will fill us up, will satisfy that hunger. 

 

I love the holidays, I love the fun, the gifts, and the smell of homemade cookies.  Christmas music of all kinds makes my heart sing.  All that said, my hunger for more is always only fed by the spirit.  I am fooled often and try to quell that hunger with any number of other things.  But in the end, it is when I step back, when I am able to go into the quiet and rest in the loving lap of my God that I know how truly blessed I am.  It is then that I know blessing and joy. 

 

"If we can honestly and bravely face the truth of our finitude, even while refusing to abandon our conviction that there must be a response to our deepest need, we will soon discover an interior door.  This door opens onto a world of wonder. With hearts open, we will be propelled on a journey to seek everywhere , and in every person we meet, after the face of God.  We will find God in the most unlikely, most humble and ordinary places!  And on that day we will have all we need."  

 

Let us give thanks this day for the hunger that reminds us of our yearning, reminds us of the all powerful, all consuming love of God. 

 

Let us place ourselves in the longing arms of God on this day.  Let us use our voice to ask the important questions.  Let us find ways to the the light in the world that best serves God.