Ring the bells that still can ring
Forget your perfect offering
There is a crack in everything
That’s how the light gets in. – Anthem: Leonard Cohen
Truth for my soul:
There is no perfect offering
In my hands,
Or in yours.
May the crack in my soul, in my nation,
Give room for light
That we may come like refugees
Into your love.
Thank you, Mr. Cohen.
I sit beside Cecil on the beach.
We are sad, so we lean into each other
Finding the comfort of presence.
He understands, much better than I,
How to travel these emotional paths;
How to walk them to their destination;
How to feel them through.
I want to avoid them,
Deny their wrenching angst.
I want to ask for the magic wand
Of a fanciful god, to wave them away.
He holds to a deeper, wordless faith,
A steadier faithfulness:
One anchored in an unshakable trust
That the goodness of God remains true.
I look to circumstance for hope.
He looks to relationship.
I want a cure; he seeks healing.
I long for a fix; he knows where his heart is fixed.
It is fixed on love,
Which can cast out the fear.
I lean hard into his bulk
Hoping to absorb his steady faith.
He reaches his arm around me
He pulls me close and kisses the top of my head
Somehow I know that Cecil is channeling a deeper love
And that it will hold me till I heal, till I am changed.
Somehow I know I will be held
Through this storm, and the others that will come,
Until the arch of justice is bent into a circle
And we all are called to dance within it.
11 13 16
[photo by Glenn Perrigo per cc 2.0]
I did not want to get up this morning.
I did not want to crawl out of the warm hollow of my blankets
I did not want to admit that I live in a country
That chooses to reward hate and anger,
That somehow thinks self-aggrandizement is a sign of leadership.
Yet, this is reality.
And I must find my way within it.
If I want to live in a country that has room for the vibrant variety of life,
If I want to live in a country that shows kindness,
That welcomes the stranger,
That nurtures hope …
Then, somehow, I must find a way to move one step closer to that, today.
Oh Holy One,
Teach me how to stand with you in this time.
Let me, this day, even this day,
Let me be a conduit of your spirit.
Let me touch my corner of the world,
With a whisper of your grace.
Please.
There is a hole in my soul that needs filling.
Stuffing it with newspaper just won’t do.
Neither will ignoring it, or just walking around it.
The hole is a wound,
Not from the slash of a blade,
But from the steady friction of the world.
I need the salve of your hope.
I need the wisdom of the great physician.
I need … you.
Oh, my little one, you have me.
Always and forever.
I am before and beyond.
I am within and throughout.
I breathe inside your breath
And leave the dusting of my presence
Wherever you are.
The trick (though it is no trick)
Is to be there. Fully there.
Fully embodied; fully infused.
This reality is already yours.
Now, before you retire.
Now, before you even start your day.
I am yours and you are mine.
That is true regardless.
But when you open to that truth
That is the magical moment (though it is not magic);
That is when your heart quickens with the breath of hope.
That is when wisdom invades your words
And grace flows from your touch
When you become the conduit of my love.
Oh, Holy One,
I long for this to be true.
It seems I always stand on that precipice of longing
But I lack the courage to fall into that reality.
So, year after year, I come to the very edge of promise
And turn to go without fully embracing its truth.
I leave the blessing for the busyness of my days.
I postpone your call, to answer the phone.
Pick up the phone.
That’s me on the other end.
You can answer my call in that conversation.
Trust – it comes with action.
Doubt is just the mud on your shoes.
Keep walking – it will be worn away.
[photo by Daniel Meyer per cc 2.0]
I am sitting on a log beside the edge of the woods. It is a cool, clear morning and I am waiting for something … the day? … a friend?
Yes, that’s right, I am supposed to meet a friend here, a good friend. As I remember, my heart warms and quickens. It is so easy to forget the comfort and completion friends can bring. They own a piece of you – take it with them when they go. It’s not that you begrudge it. It is a free gift and they leave a bit of themselves in exchange, but from that time forward, you are a little empty without them. Daily activities fill the void, and as you grow and change, that void may even fade, but a deep friend’s hole remains and only their voice, their smile, their presence can fill that particular hole.
So, who is the friend I am waiting for today? Whose presence will delight my soul?
After a moment’s quietness, I realize that the friend I’m waiting for is me. I’m a little embarrassed by the thought. How conceited to be waiting with such anticipation for myself! But deeper in, I know that there is reason to look forward to this return. The harried hurry of my days have emptied me of my better self, the one that had time to think, to contemplate, to let an idea rise and form itself before expression, the one who was connected to others and devoted to purposes which had depth. In dashing day to day I have lost that better self, have operated on scraps and vestiges of being, until this shell of me sits empty on this log.
At last my friend, this deeper self, approaches in the company of the Holy One. I find that I am sobbing, realizing how deep the hole has been. The Holy One and my friend stand beside me and place their hands upon my head. Their strength and silent power flows into me and suddenly I become one with that deeper self, standing beside the Holy One. The Holy One looks me in the eye and lightly brushes my cheek.
“There is time to be. Take it. Do not neglect your purpose here with busyness.”
Then she is gone and I am left alone – alone with myself, my full self – at least as full as I have come to be – and I rejoice.
4/8/95
[photo by Seth Wilson per cc 2.0]
GRRR! I am so angry at myself, at the system, at the continuing unfairness of work to reward, at my own inability to control my emotions about this. I need a gift of grace. ‘Seek first the kingdom,’ you say. I must not have been seeking the kingdom very well, because “all these things” seem to be going to someone else.
I know, I have no room to gripe. I know I have been deeply blessed. What right do I have to be mad? Still, I must admit that I am mad. I have poured myself out on an altar whose god does not care.
The greater irony – that false god did not make me do it. Once I gave him the minimum, he stopped even looking. So, the waste I have made of myself is all my fault. Now, I can’t seem to gather myself back together enough to find what matters.
This world’s prince doesn’t care about fair. In fact, unfair suits his purposes much better. Fairness will never be achieved through his means. And from God, the true God, I do not want fairness. I want mercy. I want grace.
So, why can’t I shake loose from this burden of anger? I reach inside myself an try to pull it from my heart, but it is wrapped too tightly. I fear I will pull my heart out, as well, if I tug hard enough to dislodge it.
It is not just clinging to me, it is consuming me; feeding on my heart, crowding out all else from my mind and my spirit. It is a cancer which must be removed, even at the cost of my heart. So, I do pull it out, and, along with it, the unconsumed fragments of my heart, bleeding in its claws. I throw it from me as far as I can manage and then I slump to the ground in a heap. I am hollow inside. All my energy, all my effort drains out onto the ground in a puddle of red.
Then, the Holy One is beside me. She gathers me up in her arms, wraps me in a cloth and carries me to the well. She washes me, wraps me again in a clean towel and sets me on the ground before her.
“This is not a battle lost, she says. This is a fruitless battle ended.”
“Listen to my voice. I have a better struggle for you to enter in. Not a battle, but a dedication of effort to something better than the tasks that others have selected for you. Do not despair the efforts you have made, but do not trust them for the building of your life. Your life lies not in them, it lies in who I have called you to be.”
“And do not look for confirmation in comparison with others. Their path is different from your own. When you measure yourself, your success, by other’s standards, you are not measuring yourself at all. Such measures will never satisfy.”
With this, from another small towel, she unwraps a new heart. It is not like my old heart. Instead, it is a piece of her own heart that she gives to me.
“Listen. I have placed myself within you. Listen. You will begin to hear, to know, and then to follow.”
She turns to go. Then, almost as an afterthought she says, “Don’t worry about letting go of your anger. Let go, instead of your misguided heart. The anger clings so tightly to that, that when you remove it, the anger will be removed as well.” She smiles. “Listen for my heartbeat, deep within.” Then she is gone.
3 29 95
Do you not know
Oh little one
That worship shapes your soul?
That words continue to call worlds into being?
That coming is joy, not duty?
And that, oh, I do love you.
Do you not know
Oh little one
That I love you into being even now?
Come.
Listen to your heart and come.
Let go to the joy
Let go in sweet abandon
Let go into my arms
I will catch you
And embrace you
Come.
Would that I could dance with you.
That I could slip into the melody
Lose myself in the embrace
And stop concentrating on the next step
Or trying to do it right.
Would I could simply receive the embrace
And let go into love and music.
Would that I were not just me.
Ah but my little one
I made that ‘me.’
I love that ‘me.’
And I embrace that ‘me’
Even now.
You can step on my feet as you dance
I do not mind
So long as you dance.
I just wish you could embrace the mistakes as well
It would be more fun
For us both
If you would let me remove your worries
And just dance, love, be.
I can handle the rest.
Believe me.
Believe me.
I do love you.
And all the whole I call you to be.
It is love that calls . . .
And joy that answers
Ah! Amen.
3 12 08
[photo by 李小克 Klaire Lee per cc 2.0]
May your heart find peace this day.
May you breathe in the holy breath of hope.
May it strengthen your soul and fortify your step.
May you know, deeply know, that you are not alone.
Just for a moment, may you feel the embrace of deepest love,
Circling round your very being, holding you tight.
May you know with deep assurance
That you will never fall,
Except you fall into those arms.
[photo by Demetrios Varoumas per cc 2.0]
The best moments any of us have as human beings are those moments when for a little while it is possible to escape the squirrel cage of being me into the landscape of being us. – Frederick Buechner
I try for a moment every morning
To pry my attention away from the urgent
And focus on the eternal.
It is not easy.
Sometimes my distractions are discomfort:
A headache or a cold.
Sometimes it is the email, screaming in my inbox.
Or that damn list.
Sometimes it is just guilt:
The friend I should have called,
The closet where I’ve hidden what I should have cleaned.
They are all squirrels.
So, I try one or more of the methods I’ve been given –
I focus on my breath or close my eyes and smile
Or practice grateful reflection.
Each of those can help.
But what really makes the difference
Is when you sneak up beside me
And remind me
You are here.
That is when my soul can finally release its grasp upon the urgent
And fall into your sweet embrace.
That is the moment
I find myself, again.
[image filtered from photo by Chance Fry per cc 2.0]
Just when I think I can’t forgive that @#%&! one more time,
Just when I think that seven times seventy is way too generous,
Just when I wonder how to continue to forgive in the context of consistent offense,
I remember how I treat myself.
I passed the seven times seventy mark with myself eons ago.
Yet, I still give myself the benefit of the doubt.
I still look with grace upon my own actions, finding excuses for my misbehavior.
That must be what he meant when he said, ‘love your neighbor as yourself.’
Well, phoey.
Just when I think it can’t be done, I remember that I’ve already done it for myself.
I’m the exception to my own rule
And the proof that one more moment of grace is not too many,
It is the only way to keep moving forward.
[photo by madstreetz per cc 2.0]
Quiet Hope 