A sigh at the heart of the universe;
A goodbye to a good friend.
And, for you, my friend, an unexpected hello
On the other side.
And then …
Another sigh,
One of sweet surrender into joy
And into a brother’s arms.
This is my hope for you.
Not because a life of love is not enough,
But because I wish you more.
I wish us all more when our turn comes,
And your wry smile awaits our welcome.
[photo of Larry’s tree – from Facebook]
Obedience is not the actions you take – though action is taken.
Obedience is not subjugation – though a changing of the will is accomplished.
Obedience is not a precondition of love – instead, love is the precondition for true obedience.
Until your heart is full of love, the actions that mimic obedience are merely practice shots at the goal. Obligation has no role, except as the schoolmaster, the prefect, helping to show you the pattern. Only when the heart is transformed is it true obedience – flowing out of love, in love, to love. Then obedience becomes joy and what you obey is really just your own heart’s desire to love in return.
[photo by ruben alexander per cc 2.0]
It seems I am continually befuddled.
I question myself and I question my questions.
I gaze at my navel and I wander around the corners of my mind.
And it seems I go nowhere.
So …
I am thankful that the world is not held together by my understanding.
I am glad that the mystery of love is actually … a mystery.
I am grateful that my fidgeting soul, like a small and restless child, can be held
And held, and held,
Until I can fight no more
And I put my head upon your shoulder
And sleep.
[photo by FUMIGRAPHIK-Photographist per cc 2.0]
“Our hands imbibe like roots, so I place them on what is beautiful in this world.” – St. Francis of Assisi
You might try it today.
Touch with intention.
Draw in the wonder around you.
Let your fingers experience
The flow of life
The beauty of being.
Connect your soul.
Through touch
And rejoice.
It is.
You are.
I Am.
Amen.
[quotation of St. Francis of Assisi, p. 40, in Love Poems from God by Daniel Ladinski]
[photo by Jens Dahlia per cc 2.0]
Once upon a time
There was a family with five daughters
Five.
Daughters.
So let me ask you,
“Who is richer, a man with five daughters
Or a man with a million dollars?”
And the answer is …
The man with five daughters …
Because he knows he has enough.
It is good to be part of a family
That knows it has enough …
That knows it is enough
To be wrapped in love
To be accepted, regardless.
Even when you break the rules,
Or break the mold
Or, ok, when you break wind.
It is good to be part of a family
Where adoption is as strong as birth,
And there are no half-sisters,
Only whole.
Where love draws you in and tells you
In the very center of your soul
That you are enough,
Just as you are,
Already.
When I count my blessings
These are surely at the top of the list:
A family whose love for each other
Has verified the miracle of enough.
It is the tangible evidence and true reflection
Of an even greater love
That surrounds us all.
[a sister slumber party with our folks 2/26/16]
That whisper …
It is the brush of the Holy One upon my soul,
It is the kiss upon my cheek
That wakes my spirit to the day.
That wonder,
That gasp and sigh,
That aching hope,
That tear,
They are mine in response.
Do you not know?
I think you do.
The call of beauty
Cannot be ignored.
On this Valentine’s Day,
When everyone is thinking of love,
Or wishing for love,
Or claiming and proclaiming love,
I wake to joy.
I wake to a warm memory of a cold night.
I wake to smile at the edges of delight
Sketched on my memory.
The evidence of love in the simple,
More than the spectacular.
To watch a mother watch her children dance,
To join friends sharing whiskey, wine and cheese,
To see a daughter revel in her daddy’s joy,
Is to cuddle up close to the warmth
Of deeper flames.
Was that a shiver of cold or of delight?
The exquisite splash of note and tone,
The words that speak to simple truths,
Of dusty memories and faithful harmonies.
It makes the singers giddy. Completely.
I know it, too …
The sweet tug of love expressed in apricot pies,
It sings within my soul.
Not loud, but oh, so very real.
And I am grateful.
“Just one small bite,” the serpent says,
“And you will be like God.”
“It is not death, but knowledge you will find.
And knowledge is power, you know.
You will know good and evil – you will be like God.”
That silly bite. Why didn’t I just listen to the words
And not to the seduction? I already knew good . . .
But, Ah! To be like God!
I should have read the fine print.
To be like God, but without the power.
To be like God, but without the wisdom.
How, then, like God?
All I really did was put myself in charge.
Not a very wise choice, given the job description.
So what can I do now?
Only one thing . . . abdicate.
Let God be God and me be me.
The ashes I will wear today.
Are ashes from an apple.
[cropped photo by Patrick McFall per cc 2.0]
Jesus’ breath in me is his kiss upon my soul. (Jack Levison)
There is a deep vulnerability required of true relationship. I hand you the keys to my heart, knowing that gift gives you the power to bring me low, but also knowing that only that kind of intimacy is the true seal of relationship. Otherwise, we are just playing in the foyer.
You, oh Jesus, maintained that vulnerability all the way to the cross, and then came back and offered yourself again, without reservation. You will not be deterred. Nothing can separate us. (Nothing? Not even my refusal to forgive others; to forgive myself? Will you love me, even through the barriers I create in self-deluded self-defense? I dare hope so.)
So – even when my mind gets me tangled, even when my heart feels cold, even when I just cannot hold on to the intellectual or emotional parts of my faith – even then, I can breathe. And you breathe within me, loving my soul, kissing my soul, till I come back to you. Till I come back to life.
This moment-by-moment intimacy – your breath coming into my lungs; my breath flowing out into the world – this exchange of life … what a miracle. I gratefully relish your kiss upon my soul. (And dare to hope, when breathing stops, to feel the kiss, the deep embrace, as you welcome my soul to its true home, in you.)
Thank you.
Thank you.
Thank you.
Amen.
[photo by Jeremy Vandel per cc 2.0]
[This meditation was sparked in response to ‘Day 6’ in Forty Days with the Holy Spirit: Fresh Air for Every Day by Jack Levison.]
Hello, Holy One.
I say your name and smile.
The brush of your presence lifts my heart.
I am softly grateful for a moment of quiet,
For a whisper of love,
For my soul’s anchor buried deep within your heart.
I feel its tug.
My fingers follow the chain, link by link
To the very center of it all.
And there, where the deep surrounds me,
Where I am enveloped by quiet,
I find stillness and peace.
Silence without fidgeting; hope beyond words;
The invasive quiet that comes the moment I release it all into your hands;
For these I am grateful.
This quiet place is the home of my heart.
This deep connection is the essence of being.
I am filled with wonder, with you.
It is only the barest brush with mystery.
Yet it feeds me with a richness that is
Beyond, below, above, within … all.
amen
Quiet Hope 