Binocular vision helps us to see
That it takes more than one perspective
To really see well; to see with depth.
See?
Yeah, me, too.
And, we, together … even more.
[photo by Thomas Hawk per cc 2.0]
Seeing well
Reply
grateful
Grateful.
So grateful.
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.
an imagined choice
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,
Even now.
[this image was placed in the public domain by Noubi noubi]
Strange math
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.
How lovely
And how strange.
[photo by Aftab Uzzaman per cc 2.0]
i am
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.
messy faith
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.
a moment without time
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.]
strange universe
In this strange universe,
It is the valence of relationships –
The rushing of electrons round the nucleus –
That holds all things together,
Even as it keeps them from collapsing in upon each other.
In such a universe as this,
Is it any wonder that the One God is a relationship –
An ever circling dance of love –
That both holds the whole and differentiates each part?
Well, yes.
It is a wonder.
[image – By JC713 [MIT (http://opensource.org/licenses/mit-license.php)%5D, via Wikimedia Commons]
Now
He is risen!
Now … we can rise, as well.
To life
To love
To joyful celebration.
Why wait?
Eternal life starts now.
“The risen Christ is the standing icon of humanity in its full and final destiny. He is the pledge and guarantee of what God will do with all our crucifixions.” – Richard Rohr
[image cropped from photo by lady habib per cc 2.0]
unnecessary crucifixion
Perhaps …
Could this be true?
The crucifixion was unnecessary.
God did not require it – we did.
It was not God who demanded sacrifice as the gateway to reconciliation.
God’s power to love and forgive was never held hostage to some cruel death.
Love has always been more powerful than sin.
We are the ones who required blood-sacrifice.
We believed so deeply that the price of sin was death
That we would not accept God’s love and reconciliation without it.
So, Christ, who came for reconciliation,
Who came to show us love,
Met our conditions.
God’s desire for relationship was so deep
That God yielded to our obstinate delusions
To prove in ways that only we demanded
The awesome, terrible depth of love.
God does not love us more – or less – because of the crucifixion.
But we can now accept forgiveness
And find a way to receive and return that love.
That is God’s desire – that we would love in return.
God will do whatever it takes to help us find the way to love.
[image cropped from a photo by Steve Snodgrass per cc 2.0]
Quiet Hope 
