where faith runs free

believe written on a stone

He did not work many mighty deeds there because of their lack of faith. 

What would you do, oh Holy One, if we would but believe?

I would stir the wonder of the world and awaken hope.
I would make your time a blessing
And call you to play with me in a joyous dance of recreating love.

I would feed the starving child and cuddle up the lonely.
I would give comfort to those who grieve and dissolve the bonds of the fearful.
I would make room, in every heart, to bear the gift of life’s communion.

I would make your imagination a gift for all,
And extend the vision of my immanent love into the crevices of every life
So that all my people could feel my breath within their lungs
And the heartbeat of my compassion in their deepest soul.
I would touch their hearts with the finger of your words to stir up a living faith.

Oh, Holy One. Is this really so?

It is.

Then, help us have faith . . .
in you,
in you in us,
in us in you.

Amen.

8/2/02

[photo by *BlueMoon per cc 2.0]

Promise and Fulfillment

julian of norwichI want to be Rumi or Julian of Norwich.

You want me to be me.

I don’t want to settle.

You smile, thanking me for agreeing with you. Continue reading

Reaching for Trust

reach for the sky 2Can I trust the You I think I see?

How do I do that, now that I have started to understand that I don’t understand . . . that the formula for faith is mediated by human hearts and minds . . . by my own heart and mind … how can I stand firm? Continue reading

Good Morning

sleepy girlHey! Did you notice the dawn this morning?

Huh? Is it dawn? (yawn)

Did you catch the energy of that inexhaustible furnace of light – the daily eruption of fire across the rim of morning?

Ah … yeah … I guess so. My eyes (and my heart) are a bit heavy. They are not stirring yet today. Continue reading

A Written Dialog

clutterI find myself opening a drawer full of long neglected junk: some trash, some treasure, some pencil numbs and safety pins – small items tucked away instead of cleaned or organized, lost to usefulness by neglect.

This is my soul, oh Holy One, and I am tired of the mess.

Continue reading