I step over a fallen log as I make my way across the meadow. It is nestled beside a giant oak near the top of a hill and provides a quiet place to rest a bit.
As I sit down, a small brown stone catches my eye and I pick it up. It sits in my palm like a little leaden weight, pressing down – solid, sure, real. I roll it around in my fingers and move it from hand to hand, feeling its substance. Continue reading
Why do I play by the edge of this cliff?
It’s surely a dangerous thing to do …
But, there is really no other place to play.
The question is not danger or no.
It’s play or no.
And sometimes, you just have to play.
Besides, the cliff is beautiful.
You are my cliff, aren’t you?
And you call my heart to play,
knowing the risk – inviting it –
For that is where I fall into love.
And you catch me, whatever else occurs.
It’s not about finding safety.
It’s about finding you . . . and me.
5 13 09
Thumbing through my photographs,
I stumble upon a sunrise.
Its golden glow of hope
rises again within my heart.
Or was it, perhaps, a sunset?
Same golden glow –
but where’s the hope?
The tenor of my heart is changed.
You read me, don’t you, Holy One?
You see my hopes
You feel my fear
You know the quick intake of breath that opens up my heart.
The thing is …
When you read aloud, as you sometimes do,
I hear the story, new.
It is as if I meet myself
Within those spoken words.
And – this is the mystery –
I like what I hear.
My story held in the timber of your voice,
Turns beautiful.
Amazing.
1 7 15
I stand looking in the mirror. I don’t often visit myself in such a way. I like a conjured image of myself, better. The me in my mind’s eye is wiser, kinder (and not so wrinkled). No wonder I prefer it.
No wonder that I need to hold myself still before an honest mirror on occasion. Honesty is the admission price for insight and growth. It is the foundation stone for relationship – else, how is a connection made – and with whom? Yet, it takes a funny kind of courage to stand here – to really look.
The door opens and the innkeeper kicks a couple of old sacks aside and pulls some extra straw from a loft and leads the donkey to another corner of the room. He throws a rough wool blanket at the young couple and hold out his hand for a payment. He rubs the coin and stalks away.
“Joseph,” Mary whispers. “I think that it is time.” Continue reading
I have been trying to fix in my head an image of what “home for the holidays” means to me. It’s pretty easy to remember what it meant for me as a child. I have lots of sepia-toned memories — you know the ones that have been pushed so far away by time that they are more memories of memories now. Continue reading
“I am the vine and you are the branches. If you remain in me, and I in you, you will be fruitful.” – John 15:5
If …
It seems a simple thing. Just stay with me. Just let me stay with you. And life will blossom.
It’s what I want. It’s what you want. And then my day begins and all clarity disappears.
What do you want of me today? What does fruitful look like?
I am a sweet potato, stuck with a few tooth picks, hanging on the top of a pint jar. My 
toes are in the water and my face is toward the sun and here I sit. I can feel the slight itching of the stem that reaches out from my side and unfurls its leafy fingers. My toes have grown into roots, slipping into the water and curling at its base. The sun is deliciously warm. And so I grow. I don’t plan the strategies for leaves or count the roots or calculate the candle power needed for a stem. I do enjoy the breeze and the alternating light and shadow. My woody heart is content and grateful. I’m stuck here, for a bit, but my leaves continue to unfold more and more across the window sill. Perhaps that is enough for now.
11 16 14
[photo cropped from P1030348 by Jessica Reeder is licensed under cc 2.0]
Thinking, thinking, thinking
Wandering, wandering, wandering
Hoping to find the solution in a pristine idea – and knowing it cannot be done
Reality is not about truths, but about relationship
About true relationship –
One that honors each identity fully and yet finds the deep resonance between them
That makes each one more
Love is the deep truth that emerges, because love is the source of it all.
Continue reading
Quiet Hope 