Beauty in the Weeds

I just returned from my time away at the Abbey of Genesee in Piffard, New York.  My dear friend Pamela took me there last November and this time I convinced another dear sister in Christ, Katie, to go along.  One day we took our cameras with us as we trekked off to the noon liturgy.  We thought we might be able to catch some interesting photos of the surrounding landscape. We worship as guests of the Cistercian Monks and then headed down the hill along a path that is flanked on both sides by wild flowers and weeds.  We must have spent about an hour in that field in silence. . . journaling, watching butterflies, looking at insects, capturing God's creation in megapixels.

As birds chirped in our ears and bees buzzed by on their way somewhere important, we watched in silence all the activity that was bursting forth from the grasses, thistles, and blooms.  And God met us there in our own silence even though we were the only ones being quiet.  Ideas began to bubble up. . . ideas about the good news. . . ideas about relationships . . . thoughts about ministry. . . a feeling of God's mercy and love enveloping us like a warm blanket.

Every texture, ever single petal, every wing are a work of God's art, drawing us into the beauty held within. . . a beauty often overlooked as we rush to and fro never stopping to notice the stamen or pistal, never getting close enough to see the tiny hairs on the underside of leaves, failing to notice the color palette of the divine artist.

Even this one. . . life gone out of it, disappeared back into the earth for the next generation. . . has beauty and texture to behold.  Patterns of curls and twists and turns that capture the imagination of the seer. . . if only we would stop to notice.

Where have you seen something beautiful recently?  Perhaps in the eyes of your loved one. . . maybe in the smile of a friend. . . maybe, like me, in a flower or a weed.  Take a moment to notice, to let it affect you, to register in your brain and in your heart and give thanks to the Holy Artist, the one God of heaven and earth, for all of his creative activity. Amen.

Power Outage

This note came to me from one of my best friends, Susan H., after having been without electricity due to summer thunderstorms this past week:

Power outage - No electricity. I don't know about you but I am not exactly sure what to do with myself when the power is out. I try to read and relax with a day free from normal life duties but for whatever reason I seem to be full of nervous energy. I am unfocused,
unorganized and generally unproductive when the power is out. Then, without notice, wham! The power is on and I feel energized, restored, life is again full of possibilities. This scenario parallels to my life and attitude when I get away from the Word, worship and prayer. It is always so renewing when I am again made aware of His presence and power in my life. Thank God! The power is on! 

How about you?  Do you feel that holy tension inside of you when you (for whatever reason) find yourself away from the power source of God's mercy and love?  Prayer and worship have a calming effect on us. . . powerful calming endorphins are created in our brains when we are plugged into God's love, just like snuggling close to the father's chest and receiving comfort and care.  When do you find yourself most anxious in life?  Examine your prayer practices during those moments. . . are you engaged or distant?  

Take some time to plug in each day!  

Thanks Susan for this metaphor for our spirit!

There's a Light. . .

I posted a picture of my daughter on Facebook this morning and one of my friends, who has known my girl since she was born, said how beautiful she is and that there is a light that shines in her.

Well, that got me thinking about the light that shines within us. . . at our baptism we are charged with the task to "let our light so shine before others" so that the world may see Christ at work in us and in the world. Is that what my friend sees in my daughter?  Is that what I see when I look out into the congregation on a Sunday morning and I see eyes filled with tears of joy, smiles pasted on happy faces, looks of yearning to hear more and more about God's love and mercy? Is that what I see in our small group when sisters and brothers in faith encourage one another and support one another on this journey?  I believe it is.

One thing I know about this light that shines within us is that it isn't "us."  When we are plugged in to the source of our hope and strength, something is exuded from our faces. . . our lives.  What people see in us is actually the light of Christ shining through.  They often mistake it for "us" rather than what it really is. . . the light that shines through all darkness, Jesus our Lord.  This light can attract others to us. . . it can draw them our way.  We must always remember that it is not to "us" that they are being drawn, lest we begin to rely on that kind of affirmation, but it is to the One who gives the light and who is the light.  That light is very beautiful indeed!  It is something we notice almost right away in each other if we are in tune with the Spirit. . . we also feel it within ourselves as it seems that love will ooze right out of us onto those we meet.  That's because we see Christ in them. . . we see them as God sees them. . . and we become the ones who share God's love with the world.  Just like the light is not ours, so the love is not ours. . . it comes from God and flows through us to others.

May you be light to the world just like my little sunshine girl!  May your heart be wide open to love others the way that God has first loved you.  May you be blessed by the fullness of Christ Jesus in your heart and mind and soul and spirit.

a.

Catharsis

Matthew 5:44-45

The Message (MSG)

 ^43-47"You're familiar with the old written law, 'Love your friend,' and its unwritten companion, 'Hate your enemy.' I'm challenging that. I'm telling you to love your enemies. Let them bring out the best in you, not the worst. When someone gives you a hard time, respond with the energies of prayer, for then you are working out of your true selves, your God-created selves. This is what God does. He gives his best—the sun to warm and the rain to nourish—to everyone, regardless: the good and bad, the nice and nasty. If all you do is love the lovable, do you expect a bonus? Anybody can do that. If you simply say hello to those who greet you, do you expect a medal? Any run-of-the-mill sinner does that.

With a very heavy heart I decided to take my dog for a run this morning.  It always seems to help clear my mind.  It helps with the catharsis process. . . 

Catharsis is a Greek word that means "to purge" or "to cleanse."  Sometimes tears just simply aren't enough to get the pain out.  Sometimes they are sufficient.  If you think you have no pain then I have news for you. . . there is enough sin in this world (our own and others) that if you would only stop for a moment to reflect, you would realize that there is some very real pain in/under/around/within you and the emotional/spiritual/physical space that you inhabit.  We all need something cathartic at times.  Today was a day for me. . . so I tied up my Nikes, clipped the leash on the pup, grabbed my iPod and off I went into the rain.

Now there is something very soothing about running in the rain, especially warm Spring rain.  The water was running down my face, dripping from my eyelashes, dropping from the curls on my head and cleansing me of some very great disappointment and struggle.  As I ventured the end of the trail, Lauren Hill's voice proclaiming to me "Everything is Everything," my steps got faster and faster.  Soon I found myself leaping over puddles that had formed in the dirt as if I was back on that green track in Athens, left lead leg, right lead leg, hurdle after hurdle like the 400 meter race I used to run. The Irish violins of the Celtic Woman spurred me on as I silently prayed for God's presence in the rain.  My own breathing echoing in my ears keeping time with whatever song came next. . . pushing me to sweat it out, to leave it there, to rely on God's never failing grace and guidance.  

When I made it home there was not one spot on me or the dog that was not soaked.  God was there.  In the running, in the rain, in the drops of water cascading over me like my baptism long ago of which I do not remember.  Only He knows how many more times I will have to run like that. . . how many times catharsis will be the order of the day. . . how many more times a human, child of God, will have to endure suffering and pain because of sin.  

But the rain continues to fall- on the good and the bad and all those in between.  But the promise is His never failing love, even as we seek to be obedient to His will to love others, even those whom we think we can never love.  We cannot do it alone.  It is utterly impossible.  The good news is that Jesus has done it for us- we who did not deserve such love, grace and life have been granted the greatest gift of all!  

If you are reading this- don't worry about me or about anything else.  I'm in good hands. . . and so are you!

acl

Sometimes There Simply Are No Words

I looked at the last date of my last post on STS and it has been way over a month.  Life has been hectic, filled with so many things to do. . .
Sometimes the busy-ness  sparks my imagination.  Sometimes I find, there simply are no words.  They just don't come.  There are strings of thoughts but nothing worth saying.  There are clouds of emotion but nothing worth reporting.  There is silence. . . oh the silence-- sometimes painful, sometimes welcome, sometimes it just "is."

In a word filled with sound-bytes and images and messages bombarding us from every direction, sometimes we get so used to the sounds that we fail to realize how destructive the noise really is for us.  Distracted.  Distressed.  Disconnected from the One who calls to us in our waking hours, in our prayers, in our sleep.  But we cannot or WILL NOT hear.  There's too much noise all around us; too much noise inside of us.  Sometimes I just want to scream, "STOP!"  Stop the talking! Stop the phone ringing.  Stop the black letters coming across the screen. . . JUST STOP! Just let me be. . . I just want to be.

And yet the paradox of that is that I have a very difficult time "just being."  To just be, one has to be able to tolerate a certain amount of pain, I think.

Perhaps my inability to just be has to do with my threshold of pain, or lack thereof.  I really have a high physical pain tolerance- I gave birth to two beautiful kids where the epidurals went awry and I felt all the pain on half of my body.  I ran for years with chronic shin splints and a stress fracture in my foot.  Until very recently, I haven't missed a day of work in years and years and years.  (I only missed two because of a minor surgery!)  But when it comes to the clearing of my mind. . . it rarely happens. . . there are always words and images floating past. . . and it's hard to not focus on them, difficult to let them go on by.  Then I get distracted and there are no words of any meaning that come out so it's just better to stay silent.

I think that kind of "pain," if you can call it pain, is part of our human condition if we allow ourselves to really feel it.  It's part of "being" human.  I'd rather be injured, some days, than have to "feel" what there simply are no words for.  On the other hand, at least I know I'm alive because I can still feel what I feel! Some days there is peace surrounding me, some days it is raw and open and exposed.  That's life, right?

What to do with it all?  I wish I had a prescription to share-- something that would take it all away but all I can do in those moments is utter to my Lord, "Kyrie Eleison, Christe Eleison, Kyrie Eleison."  The only words I can come up with which invite my Lord Jesus to enter into the darkness inside of me and take it onto himself for a few minutes so I can experience a flash of relief.

The good news is that, in the words of the old African American Spiritual, "He hasn't failed me yet." And I know that if I remember to come to him, he will do it for me over and over again until I no longer feel what there simply are no words for. . . pretty good deal don't you think?

Amen.