There is one body
and one Spirit,
just as you were called to the one hope of your calling,
one Lord,
one faith,
one baptism,
one God and Father of all,
who is above all
and through all
and in all.

Ephesians 4:4-6

There is one earth,
And one universe, embracing it.

There is one great expanse of beauty,
And of joy, and … overwhelming terror.

There is one, common, suffering,
That invades every soul,
And pulls it low.

There is one deep loneliness,
Born of separation and pulling away.

And there is one deeper reconciliation,
That will not let us go.

There is one cross,
That holds us all in its deadly grip.

There is one life,
Spilled out to enliven all that is.

There is one hope,
That holds me up.

There is one love,
That flows to me,
That flows to you,
That unites us all.

There is
Beneath it all,
Within it all,
One.

[photo by Jes per cc 2.0]

How does a baby know
Just what it takes to grow
From a tiny seed of love
Into a new embodiment of God?

Hubris, it seems, to think
That God, herself, might be held
In such a tiny hand.
Except that the gift of God, herself,
Is surely that – the offer of deep embodiment.

How does a mother know
Just what it takes to love this new life
Into deeper being;
Two weave a love between them
Strong enough to grow them both?

Love, itself, seems to draw the answer forth
Not in words or rules or dictates
But in quiet and joyful responsiveness
To the interplay of coos and cries
And mutual nourishing.

How is it that an old woman knows
Just what it takes to grow into a warm and welcome maturity?
How to let go of previous strengths and struggles
In order to find new channels of life within?

How does she learn the rhythms
Of a loving universe
Even in a season of growing frailty or loss?
How is God, herself, reflected even there?

It is the mystery of universal love,
That leads the way –
The love of all the universe,
The heart, the hope, the truth,
Of all that is.

For God, herself, is mother to us all,
Even as She is born anew in each of us,
In all of us, together,
In all the infinite span of life in Life.

[image modified from photo by Irina Patrascu Gheorghita per cc 2.0]
I was reminded that last Sunday was Mother’s Day in the UK.

even the simple things
can reflect the light

ah, yes.
even me.
ahhhh, yes.

[image by Susan Murtaugh per cc 2.0]

Looking forward to giving thanks.
It is an interesting exercise.
It holds blessings
And hidden challenges.

There is a grace in preparing food
In anticipating the laughter and hugs
In remembering the favorite delicacies
And simple dishes of past years.

Making the cookies that grandma made;
Fixing the ‘right’ dressing
Or the green bean casserole
These are all are a kind of sacrament.

They honor family
And weave a tapestry of memory
And help to keep the place at the table
For those who no longer attend.

But we must remember
In the remembering
To actually be at the meal
With those who actually come.

There is no confection,
There is no perfection
(Even if perfection were possible)
That is better than presence.

So, I pray that I will remember
To attend to the family
More than the meal.
To let the mess become a miracle.

For that is the way of grace.

[photo by terren in Virginia per cc 2.0]

Where did I put myself?
Surely, if I run around
Peeking under every thought or action
Second guessing every move,
Surely, I will uncover my true self.

But, no,
Instead, the empty box remains empty.
All the busyness is just a desperate attempt
To fill the void and distract the mind.
There is still no substance, there.

The more I fuss and fuddle
The more I do and do
The more I hide behind the masks of effort
The less my heart is sure
The less my soul is true.

So, finally, I fall exhausted in a heap.
Relieved, at least, there is a me to fall.
(At least, I think so … let me look.)
Have I managed to erase myself
Instead of just hiding my mistakes?

The perfect me is a fiction.
Even the efforts to be a better me
Fall useless to the ground.
Only this befuddled, messy me is left.
Yet, turns out, that is the me you love.

It is the real me
The one I keep losing under the mess
The one that I try to deny or fix
That is the one you hold within your heart.
And in that holding I am made whole.

Thank you.
Thank you.
If you love me
Maybe I can love me, too.
And then true transformation can begin.

[photo by Observe The Banana per cc 2.0]

Is your jaw tight?
Is your heart clinched around fear?
Is there a knot in the core of your being?

I know.
Me, too.

So, today I will set a different intention.
I will look for opportunities to smile.
I will listen for the kind laughter of friends.

I will release the world to the care of the Holy One
And step into the flow of grace.

All I have to do, is force myself to relax.
Arrrgh! …. Oh! Ahhhh!

[photo by Thomas Hawk per cc 2.0]