Tag Archives: sufficiency

After vacation

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backpackI’m trying to get my head to reactivate after vacation.
Nice that it turned off …
Now … how to turn it on?

That’s always the fear –
That if I put something down,
I’ll lose the capacity to pick it up –
Or I’ll lose it altogether.

Yet, like a backpack,
You can’t carry it forever.
Sometimes you gotta stop for a while.
Sometimes you need a rest.

And when the rest is over
You must pick it up again.
It’s the hardest part of the journey.
Always a bit awkward.

So, Holy One …
Are you there?
Where am I?
Touch my soul awake.

At last, I find your smile.
Like a Cheshire cat, I see that first.
Hovering in my imagination.
Eliciting my smile in return.

I lean my heart back into your presence
And find the echo of peace
That waits there for me
Hovering at the edge of possibility.

And, at last,
Sinking back into your yes
I find myself, again.
Thank you.

[photo by Ville Koivisto per cc 2.0]

prayer’s quandary

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prayerHow is it that I imagine
(Though it seems I often do)
That I could ever out-love God?

Somehow I think that I must remind God
To pay attention to those I love
And respond in the ways I would direct.

I hang on to those urgent, begging prayers
As if they are lifelines
As if their path is the only one worth walking.

And in that clinging urgency, I lose the opportunity
To join the deeper, fuller love that God
Is always, already, pouring forth.

When will I learn that true prayer
Is the place where I find God’s love welling up within me
And where I send it forth into the world?

Prayer stitches my soul into the fabric of life as it is
Adding one more fiber to the tapestry of love that God is weaving
And learning to rejoice as it unfolds.

[photo by Via Tsuji per cc 2.0]

still

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wrapped in a blanketI finger the edges of my soul
looking for the imprint of your presence.
The veil hangs straight and still
no ripple of movement
and yet – peace.
Somehow I know that you are here.
Still. Still. Still.

Stay with me, still
And still my heart
So that even passing evidence
Lingers at the tip of my awareness
Just beyond knowing
But not beyond faith.

You love me, still.
Still, I love you.
I rest, with the fullness of that peace
Folded round my shoulders
Swaddling my heart
In you.

 

[image modified from a photo by MIKI Yoshihito per cc 2.0]

Retroactive Wisdom

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If any of you is lacking in wisdom, ask God, who gives to all generously and ungrudgingly, and it will be given you. – James 1:5

boxes in the hall

I’m still overwhelmed. Even consistent meditation cannot extract me easily from over-obligation. I wonder if I can ask for wisdom, retroactively?

The foolishness I reel from today actually rolled out of my mouth nine months ago or more, when I said yes to too many projects. When my calendar pages looked so clean and clear. I forgot that they really, already, had obligations attached – like PTA meetings, and science fair projects, and a mother-in-law’s birthday, things that should carry the joy of relationship, but, in the context of too much, become one more burden that I might drop. Silly me, foolish me… to think that I might forget that I would be living day-to-day realities in even the unmarked calendar months ahead. Continue reading →

What if …

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stump in a green woodI am deep within the woods, encompassed by green and damp and shadow. The quiet hum of nature surrounds me and the path I walk opens up just a bit to a small clearing with a stump in the middle: a forest altar. I have not seen this particular one before, but know their holy purpose.

I bring myself – I bring my heart – into this place and try to let go of the rush of my day and the noise of my encapsulated life. I try to drop the urgency of the routine so that I can be here. Whatever else, a moment’s touch with truth is necessary for my day. There are many layers I have put up around my soul to keep it from this touch, yet the touch is life. Continue reading →

quiet heart

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small flower

Hello, Holy One.
I say your name and smile.
The brush of your presence lifts my heart.

I am softly grateful for a moment of quiet,
For a whisper of love,
For my soul’s anchor buried deep within your heart.

I feel its tug.
My fingers follow the chain, link by link
To the very center of it all.

And there, where the deep surrounds me,
Where I am enveloped by quiet,
I find stillness and peace.

Silence without fidgeting; hope beyond words;
The invasive quiet that comes the moment I release it all into your hands;
For these I am grateful.

This quiet place is the home of my heart.
This deep connection is the essence of being.
I am filled with wonder, with you.

It is only the barest brush with mystery.
Yet it feeds me with a richness that is
Beyond, below, above, within … all.

amen

‘I know you …’

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walking togetherBe still and know …
Be still and know …

I know you …
You are the one who I knit together in your mother’s womb;
Who I have loved from your very beginning.
You are the one I have walked beside each day.
You are the one who (sometimes, when you think to do it) leans into my arms.

You are the one I have called
Into this moment, this day, this place.
You are the one I have gifted
With gifts matched to those of your peers
So that, together, we may love the world.

Be still a moment and know.
Know that I know you.
Know that you can know me;
That figuring it all out is not a prerequisite;
That trust is the first step in knowing.

Take my hand.
Walk with me.
It is in the walking that we will deepen our knowing.
We will make the path as we walk together,
And in the walking, you will know.

So … how can I be still while I am walking?

The stillness comes when you release the outcome into my hands.
The stillness comes when you know, fully know,
That you are not judged by what you do.
Judgment is reserved for the work. The better word is discretion; wisdom.
It’s not that anything goes … but that all is in my hands.

When you are still,
When your heart opens to my whisper,
Then you will know.
You are known.
You are loved, and held, and gifted.
And we are walking, together.

‘The Spirit is the durable presence of God from first breath to last.’ –  Jack Levison

[photo by Thomas Mues per cc 2.0]
[This meditation was sparked in response to ‘Day 4’ in Forty Days with the Holy Spirit: Fresh Air for Every Day by Jack Levison.]

You coming?

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fresh strawI’ve got the straw ready in the manger.
I’ve mucked the stalls and moved the donkey to the back corner.
I’ve done my best to hide the mess of my life.
Why won’t you come, already?

I sit at the entrance to the stable-cave.
I look out at the night, at the stars.
I listen to the quiet of the town.
I push the noise of my own heart to the side.

And then the donkey brays.
His raucous voice invades the night.
He graces the stable with a fuming pile of crap.
Isn’t that the way it goes?

I think I’ve fixed it all, but it won’t stay fixed.
I’ve plotted and planned and futzed.
But the mess won’t go away.
Life is just that way.

And isn’t that the message of the manger?
It wasn’t pristine straw.
It wasn’t picturesque.
It was the middle of life as it happens.

Yet you came.

As a mother I should remember
That there is no control in pregnancy.
It doesn’t come when you want or wait till you are ready.
I should learn Mary’s lesson, and rejoice.

I don’t know how your gift can be accomplished.
After all, I am just me.
But I’ll trust your word and give you what I can.
And let you do the rest.

And you do.
Thank God.
You do.
Amen.

[photo by SuSanA Secretariat per cc 2.0]

gift of words

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pool reflecting the sky

Just as the pool cannot reflect the full sky, just as the rocks that sit at the bottom of the pool may distort the image, my words are shaped by who I am, but they are also yours. You seem to actually enjoy the fact that we do this together. You seem to delight in sharing the act of creation. Part of your creative gift is the gift of creativity, itself – you placed the seed within itself.

I delight in it, as well. I love to play with you and with my friends, to feel your compassion rise in my heart and see the words form in my soul. I love to watch you enter the space between us, among us, when we are all in conversation.

The creation that happens in the whispered space where souls connect – is beautiful; is full of grace; is full of you. It fills us all and more; shaping our souls to the contours of your very self.

Ah, this is your kiss upon this day.
This is your symphony within my heart.
This is your confident hope for the world to come.

This is your kingdom.
Come. On earth.
As it is in heaven. As it is heaven.

where faith runs free

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believe written on a stone

He did not work many mighty deeds there because of their lack of faith. 

What would you do, oh Holy One, if we would but believe?

I would stir the wonder of the world and awaken hope.
I would make your time a blessing
And call you to play with me in a joyous dance of recreating love.

I would feed the starving child and cuddle up the lonely.
I would give comfort to those who grieve and dissolve the bonds of the fearful.
I would make room, in every heart, to bear the gift of life’s communion.

I would make your imagination a gift for all,
And extend the vision of my immanent love into the crevices of every life
So that all my people could feel my breath within their lungs
And the heartbeat of my compassion in their deepest soul.
I would touch their hearts with the finger of your words to stir up a living faith.

Oh, Holy One. Is this really so?

It is.

Then, help us have faith . . .
in you,
in you in us,
in us in you.

Amen.

8/2/02

[photo by *BlueMoon per cc 2.0]