Weft of friendship

Warp and Weft


Once again my heart is melted with gratitude
Once again I am engulfed with the wonder of friendship
Once again I know that such relationships are the stuff of life.

As we prepare to welcome a new life into this crazy world,
It is the weft of friendship that fortifies my soul,
Gifts within gifts – to help a new life blossom.
And what a grace to see two generations of friendship
In deep and easy communion
Welcoming a third.

When I count my blessings
These are at the top of the list.
Thank you, my friends.

[image from wikicommons, with translation as noted in wikipedia]

there be dragons

dragonAs long as my breath is in me and the spirit of God is in my nostrils, my lips will not speak falsehood, and my tongue will not utter deceit. – Job 27: 3-4


‘Honesty is the bare-bones expression of faith.’ – Jack Levison


I admire an honest struggle. Even if the truth you bring to the struggle seems, to me, to be somewhat askew. None of us have a corner on the whole, untattered truth, anyway. But, if we come to the encounter all dressed up in pretense and pretext, we have not really come at all. Continue reading

Learning the Perichoresis

dancing togetherSounds like a dance, doesn’t it? Well, it is the dance. Suddenly the second commandment – love your neighbor as yourself- takes on another layer of meaning. If the interrelation of The Three is a dance, and we are invited in, we must learn to dance together. Continue reading

persistent patterns

young girl yelling the final line of a poem

Quiet, quiet, quiet
Quiet as a mouse
I am the quietest
One in the house!

Our old patterns sneak back into our lives with unyielding persistence. We can’t keep them quiet. We don’t even see them coming till they are shrieking in our ears and we find ourselves back in the same old conundrums.

Continue reading

the good news


What is the good news?

Is it that the very deepest truth of creation is joyful love?
That you invite me to join you in the process of loving creation?
That it is ok to open my soul to life, because it will not destroy me, despite what I fear?
That I can trust your goodness to keep me safe?
That ‘safety’ is really only the first step? Continue reading

Golem’s Redemption

golemAnd so I sit, a small golem-like creature in the dark cavern of myself, hiding from you, even as I long for connection. I shiver in my hidey-hole – cold and alone, peaking out from the crevice and then quickly withdrawing, lest I be seen.

My fingers are as cold as the stone they touch. My heart has lost its beat, my eyes, grown large, are still afraid to see. I huddle in my corner, closing my eyes and holding my hands over my ears, until I can stand it no more. Continue reading

Celebrating 50 years of Life Together

anniversary celebrationLife is found in relationship.
Even an introvert knows that.
And a good relationship gives birth to another
… and another and another.

This week I watched a tapestry unfold
The individual threads – each one unique –
Delighted in their interconnections;
Each enriching the other.

Friends and family, together.
Stories told and embellished.
Old memories unfolding into new ones
Held together with the kind of laughter
That needs no excuse to blossom.

Perhaps the biggest gift
Was watching the youngest generation
Inviting all the others to dance in sweet abandon.
It is a lovely promise of the years to come –
Love expanding to embrace – and to grace – the world.

[Tim and Anne Banks – 50 year anniversary celebration – August 7, 2015]

Manna in the Morning

vanilla wafersI can’t seem to keep my mind from wandering without my fingers on the keys. Something about watching the letters fall upon the page helps me focus. Somehow watching what has just happened lets me see a tiny bit into the future – thinking my way to the next word as the last one falls into black and white.

So I put myself in that space – in that little place of ‘nexting’ – letting it open up a focused opportunity for encounter. I am hoping for Your interference. Will You come? Are You there?

Continue reading


schoolI come today to a schoolroom: wooden floors, old wrought-iron desks with wooden tops and inkwells, a slate black board, like a room from a museum. This room carries the echoes of an even older classroom with rows of benches, a pot of clay for tablets, and a stylus by each seat. They are quiet now, no students squirming in their seats, no teacher rapping on her desk or master tapping his foot on the floor. But there is an echo of the grand enterprise that inhabited such places – the task of wrapping minds around fact and turning it into knowledge. Continue reading