Binocular vision helps us to see
That it takes more than one perspective
To really see well; to see with depth.
Yeah, me, too.
And, we, together … even more.
For friendship’s touch in the fingers of my true love.
For each day’s small kindnesses, given freely with abundance.
For a soft kiss and a sly smile
For a deep honesty that helps me stay grounded.
For playful humor
For that home I find within those arms.
My life is delightfully tangled with this gift.
And I am so very grateful.
I woke this morning with the vestiges of a troubled dream still roiling my soul. It remained, not so much in my memory as in my emotions. It was unsettling, and threatened to take me to a dark place. Suddenly, I could understand the idea of omens and evil spirits. I could feel the power of the imagination.
Nothing about the physical world around me was different. The sheets, tousled upon my bed, the blanket tossed aside, the taste of my morning coffee, were all as they had been yesterday and the day before. But my heart was troubled.
And now I faced a choice. I could let the dream take my imagination, or I could let my imagination take the dream. That idea … that different tone … started as a small point of light in the center of my soul.
Like a candle in the night, it flickered there, faltering, fragile in the darkness. But I cupped my hands around it and focused my attention there. Small as it was, it warmed my hands. That warmth traveled up my arms and found my heart. It began to expand within me until I found that I could breath again.
I took a deep, full breath and shook my head, and shook my soul. It broke the spell of foreboding. I listened to the chimes outside my window and the quiet breathing of my husband, there beside me. A sense of gratitude began to rise within me, just as the night began to fade to day.
Not all evil is imaginary, but sometimes imaginary evil can threaten to steal your soul. And sometimes even the evil that is real grows stronger through imagination. Even then, sometimes, you can choose to see the light, and welcome it with gratitude.
You cannot really hold the light. But sometimes you can choose to let it hold you.
May you find the light, today.
May it hold you in its warmth.
May you learn to choose hope, when you can.
And find room to be grateful,
God’s math is strange:
In an intimate partnership,
The two become one:
One in love – sharing one love.
And this strange God
Is also One, in intimate partnership
Among the three
One love inviting more into that circle
Even welcoming you and me
Into that very dance
Where the one love extends ever outward
A universe bursting out in deep relationship.
And how strange.
The whisper of ‘i am’ within my soul
Is the echo of ‘I AM.’
Its breath would not be
Without the greater breath of life.
Yet, your great mystery is veiled,
Lest i be overwhelmed.
You hold back in order to give room,
In order to give time
For me to be.
I feel your tug upon my soul,
Your fingers brush my cheek,
And my hope catches its breath
In deep desire of you.
It is the first light of morning,
It is the call of a new day
That lets me take brief notice
Of eternity’s heartbeat in my own,
Calling me to be.
If I am honest with myself
My faith is pretty messy.
On grateful mornings my heart sings.
I am wrapped in the peaceful veil of sunrise and birdsong.
I know – I seem so sure – that I am a small part
Of an immense and holy whole.
But other mornings I crawl out of a dull and achy hole.
I look around and wonder how love could be the source
Of such a mess as this.
My eyes seem tuned to all that’s undeniably wrong.
Is it the tilt of my heart that determines what I see?
And what tilts my heart?
Is faith a decision?
And, if so, what does it stand upon?
This postmodern mind of mine
Knows that knowing is slippery.
All, all seems built upon the sand.
I need a rock to keep me from collapse.
Yet, even rocks are made of whirling atoms,
With vast emptiness between each particle.
The solid – not so solid: I am not held up by ‘stuff.’
Instead, I am held by the very force of the relationships between each and all.
Right now, that is a much of a rock as I can find.
I clamber up – and am amazed that it holds me.
It holds me … and isn’t that what relationship most desires?
To be cherished, but not crushed. It is a delicate balance.
There are moments that catch your heart between beats
That catch your breath; that catch your soul.
Such moments whisper of a wholeness that cannot be broken,
And you know, oh, you know, it is so.
[photo by Mike Bizzeau, from the wonderful blog, nature has no boss, used with permission. The title of this blog also comes from his caption on this photo.]