Sometimes, so they say, ‘you can’t see the forest for the trees.’
As of late, I think I have the opposite problem.
I need to look, really look, deeply look
At a single tree, a single branch, a single leaf.
I’ve been trying to figure it all out.
But the forest is much too big for me.
One tender leaf, with veins outspread to touch each cell
Is, perhaps, the correct perspective for me
At this one, perfect moment
In your universe of time and space.
I’ll leave the forest to you, just now.
And reach my tiny veins to those cells near me
-
The ones that I can touch.
[photo by eltpics per cc 2.0 hosted by flikr]
My Mom turned 97 this year and her memory for daily interactions is tenuous. Sometimes when I visit, she asks me five times about something I brought. We write our comings and goings in her guest book as a memory tool.
But here’s the thing: when I walk in the door her face lights up. When she speaks of my dad, her voice is full of gratitude even when it holds some grief. When she mentions my sisters or my aunt, she is quick to say how much she appreciates their care. The other day, she told me that she woke during the night and could not go back to sleep, so she decided to count her blessings. She had a long list.
Her life has been lived with an emphasis on relationship. She consistently chooses the path of love. Rules are important, but love comes first. If you don’t deeply love, you don’t have the authority to impose a rule.
It’s not a Pollyanna view. She has buried two husbands – one when she was 27, one last year. She always believed that it was best to face things head on and to talk about them, truthfully, quietly and with grace. Hers has been a life of determined joyful gratitude.
This is not an accident.
It is a practiced pattern.
So well-practiced, that she doesn’t forget it.
Fear keeps me from you, my holy friend
Not fear of you but fear of you seeing me, knowing me
Fear of your disappointment and your deep sigh
Fear of the recognition of myself within your eyes
Ashamed and sad.
How can I flee the love that would bring me to life?
Why turn my heart from dear embrace?
Like a small child, covering my eyes so you can’t see me
I plug my ears and hum, forgetting that every molecule is sourced by you.
Oh, hound of heaven, chase me down
Until I turn at last to find you dancing in delight
Until you lick my face in joy
Willing, again, to humble yourself in incarnation
Whatever form it takes to free my love.
I receive the blessings of December
• Deep cold and warm sun, scattered across my days
• Baking cookies with my mom and sisters
• A fire in the grate and the warmth of family beside it
• The true gifts of presence – of hugs and smiles and openhanded generosity
And offer this blessing in response
• May your heart receive the gifts that come your way with joy.
• May you spill your own gifts into the world with abandon - and there find even deeper joy.
I receive the blessings of November
• Taking time with family, with all the bustle and with moments of quiet relaxation
• Rediscovering gratitude as part of the glue that binds hearts to one another
• A beautiful fall in Texas, right outside my door. Full of red and yellow, full of quiet joy.
I offer this blessing in response
• May you find the time to see the interrelatedness of all creation, where each heart’s gift calls another into the dance.
I receive the blessings of October
• The birthday gift of presence from my family, willing to join me outdoors despite the wind and unexpected heat
• The whimsy of encounters with armadillos and cows
• The crunch of leaves underfoot
I offer this blessing in response
• May you catch the eyes of a friend, this day, and see within in them a reflection of your worth to them – and give in jubilant response, the confirmation of their worth to you.
I receive the blessings of September
• The giggles of little girls tumbling together in play
• The wonder of growing bodies, growing bones, growing minds, growing hearts pulled by the sheer exuberance of life – full and free
• The first sight of the ocean, a brisk walk, visiting with friends in Maine
• Glimpses of wildlife – turkey, deer, fox, eagle – anchoring me to a world more grounded than the insistent call of the news
I offer this blessing in response
• May you hear the whisper – or the shout – of life within you, joyfully calling you forward into this day, this very day
I receive the blessings of August
• The rhythm of rain upon the roof after so many days of dry and hot
• An escape to the mountains with friends, hiking trails, catching sight of such majesty, listening to the chatter of a stream
• Sharing a dinner with friends, flavored with fond memories and the simple gestures of kind and faithful love
• One cool morning back home, that feels a bit like a taunt, but holds real promise
I offer this blessing in response
• May your heart know the blessings that hide inside your challenges and hold to the deep assurance that your own path leads through beauty and bends towards home
I receive the blessings of July
• A walk in the early part of the day, catching a deer and a mother possum with babies on her back
• Air conditioning and fans – and gratitude for a way to escape the heat
• Watching our kids guide their kids through the challenges of life – knowing that their job is not to make the path smooth, but to teach them to face the challenges with courage
I offer this blessing in response
• May you find cool in the midst of heat, peace in the midst of challenge and joy among the small kindnesses that come your way.
[photo from Flickr by Steve Rainwater per cc 2.0]
I receive the blessings of June
• Watching the granddaughters play together – focused, joyful, creative
• Nestling into a family vacation where we discover, again, the blessing of each other’s presence
• Listening to my mother and aunt remember their childhood days
• Watermelon as the taste of summer
I offer this blessing in response
• May you weave life and hope into each story that you tell, remembering with both honesty and grace the moments that shape your soul
Quiet Hope 