Journey

While praying morning prayers this morning (I use the Magnificat book), I found myself being prayed for:

free those who conceal their hearts in falsehood and betray the trust of others…

That slammed me. I do keep many things closed in. I hide myself and my heart so often. Sometimes out of embarrassment; sometimes out of fear that were it known what I really felt that others would be hurt more than by my concealment.

There are times when I’m not sure of the way out of this — part of me says - “Go for it! Get it out and let it be known” and part of me says “It’s wrong, the way you feel, so heal it internally, and don’t hurt anyone else.” I’m still struggling with it. Ouch!

Today I have no answers — just a lot more questions.

Tags: faith, trust

Some seasons are easy to enjoy - they are joyful segments of life. Others, not so much. And, the seasons don’t always line up one after the other. It seems they get all jumbled up. They overlap. Friends and family members might be experiencing different “seasons” all at the same time.

Now, just where did that jumble of thoughts come from? A few weeks ago, my niece got married. A season of joy and excitement. Family was be in town for the event. It was a lovely celebration at a lovely place. As I said - joy, happiness, looking forward.

At the same time, there were so many situations that felt like the wheels were falling off. One segment of the family didn’t make it because of illness and oral surgery. Another friend’s 15 year old son started intensive chemotherapy. Another friend had to go in for a transfusion - again. A season of distress, of uncertainty, of prayer.

All at the same time. Just as it always has been. In the midst of the pain and uncertainty there appears joy and hope. In the midst of joyful celebration, there will be upsets.

Sunday’s gospel included the parable of the farmer who sowed good seed. In the dark, the evil one sowed weeds. The farmer said not to go in and weed, because it was too difficult to be sure which were weeds and which plants were wheat until it came time for the harvest. Ah! That’s life everyday — wheat and weeds and it’s not always clear which is which.

It’s a relief, at least, that I don’t have to sort it out right now. It always happens that I would have gotten it wrong. How many times do I look back and realize that what seems so sad and wrong was the very thing that was required for later joy and hope? I’ll just have to leave the judgement about these things in the hands of the Lord.

Thank goodness!

Tags: acceptance, faith, judgement

I was just catching up on Creo en Dios! after vacation and the week of reentry. The most recent post, Inviting Jesus In, certainly caused a flashback for me. It brought me back to a penance service over 10 years ago. At the time, I felt a dead inside as I think is possible while still breathig and walking and trying to raise a family. As I sat there (with a priest who is a friend) I found I couldn’t even start to find words. All I could say was an odd phrase: “Lord, widen the parameters.” It was a way of saying “Yes” and opening a door. A way of trying to become open to the possibility that life could be different. A way of trying to get under the shell I had built to protect myself from feeling the pain (or joy) of my existence.

As Susan observes, once you make the call, there’s little if any chance of going back. Jesus is already on the way. It’s not too late after all. When I asked for that help, I should have asked for a way to help me hold on to my hat. I was aware in that space that there was a 3rd person. It felt like I could reach out and touch Jesus sitting there with us. Within 30 minutes of leaving the confessional, I have to say that my life took a hard right turn and it’s truly not been the same since.

That’s not to say it’s been easy. Or the walk as been straight and well lit. Or that I haven’t tried to close the door again more than once. I asked for God to open that Pandora’s Box, as it were, and have found that the gifts inside can be seen as both good and bad, and that God will walk with me as I seek to deal with each of them.

Jesus indeed told me - “Wake up, child.”

Tags: reconciliation, words, yes

Late yesterday I took a stroll behind the cabin in Maine where we were spending the 4th of July with my husband’s family. “The wind in the willows” ran through my mind, until I had to go and give them their proper names…

The wind in the willows - except they’re not
They are birches and yellow woods and pines
There’s barely a sound beyond the cry of the loons
as the breeze ruffles the ferns, the birch leaves tremble
And a small spring meanders through the underbrush

Perhaps this is the still, quiet voice that Elijah heard
after the fire, after the earthquake, after the storm

Be still
know
I AM
God

Tags: Add new tag, nature, stillness

My niece got married last Saturday. A moderate sized affair, with a judge doing the honors. Family all around. I don’t know where the idea came from, but the nicest touch was the roses. Two long stemmed roses, one tucked into the flowers at each side of the bride and groom. After the vows, they each took a rose, and exchanged them as their first gift to each other as husband and wife. They were then instructed to find a special place in their home for the roses. When words fail, the judge told them, place a rose in the special spot. The other is to accept the gift… and not demand the proper words.

This works for apologies and joys, I think. Sometimes the words just don’t happen, but you really need to let someone know. Let them know whatever. Kind of like a prayer without words. I’m here. I’m sorry. I’m thrilled. I love you, but the words are doing it justice.

Tags: prayer, weddings, wisdom

This moring I paused and reread/prayed this prayer than hangs in my kitchen (The traditional title is “17th Century Prayer”)

Lord, Thou knowest better than I know myself than I am growing older & will someday be old.

Keep me from the fatal habit of thinking I must say something on every subject and on every occasion.

Release me from craving to straighten out everyone’s affairs.

Make me thoughtful but not moody: helpful but not bossy. With my vast store of wisdom it seems a pit not to use it all, but Thou knowest Lord that I want a few friends at the end.

Keep my mind free from the recital of endless details; Give me wings to get to the point.

Seal my lips on my aches and pains. They are increasing and love of rehearsing them is becoming sweeter as the years go by. I dare not ask for grace enouh to enjoy the tales of others’ pains, but help me to endure them with patience.

I dare not ask for improved memory, but for a growing humility and a lessening cocksureness when my memory seems to clash with the memories of others. Teach me the the glorious lesson that occasionally I may be mistaken.

Keep me reasonably sweet; I do not want to be a saint — some of them are so hard to live with — but a sour old person is one of the crowning works of the devil.

Give me the ability to see good things in unexpected places, and talents in unexpected people.

And give me, O Lord, the grace to tell them so!

Amen.

Tags: prayer wisdom

Soul Music. World Music. Music of the Universe…

The opening measures of the cello repeat throughout the entire piece, like the eternal music of the soul. Deep, grounded, constant. And then the higher strings chime in and begin to move atop the solid foundation. They get lighter and more joyful until the notes are dancing and flying into the air.

This is music that induced a deep, meditative state in my. I can hear the cello anchoring me. Giving me rest. And from that deep place the other strings begin to vibrate. I feel the joy of being so grounded that I can dance and fly and laugh — all without fear. Anchored, and yet free to move and bloom.

How does that happen? The music is the most vivid image of Life in Christ to me. So grounded, so calm, so steady — It’s like the gospel from last Sunday: Be not afraid. I am with you. I will be there, eternal and loving. Go forth, and don’t be afraid. No matter what happens, good or bad, flat or sharp or right on key, I am here, under it all, constant but moving. Only fear that which can cut you off from this grounding, from your own soul. Now go forth to love and live and vibrate like the strings of the violin.

Soul music. World music. Music of the Universe…

Tags: journeying, music, prayer

I’ve been eratic about posting of late. I can make all manner of excuses: busy, busy, busy. Or not much to say. Or too much to say.

The truth is I’ve set some standards for myself that are sufficiently difficult to attain so they give me the opportunity to just not do anything because I don’t think I good enough. See, if I don’t do anything then I can’t be accused of falling short because there is nothing to measure.

Somehow, I don’t think Jesus is going to buy that argument. He tells us that “when I was hungry you fed me, when I was naked you clothed me…” (or you didn’t, as the case may be); He don’t see a qualifier on how well you feed someone or how fashionable and stylish the clothes were. It’s the acting out of love and doing something.

If you hang around here you might find some oddball stuff because when I woke up in the middle of the night with these thoughts about Jesus saying “Just do it because you love me” I decided I should do it. I also realize that the “because you love Me” has to be present. And I realize that knowing what to “just do” comes from knowing Jesus better. Knowing Jesus better happens through being still and listening (otherwise known as prayer) and being in that space where I am and God is.

It is about staying in the relationship — and understanding that my own rules about what is “good enough” must just simply go by the wayside.  God is so much more loving and forgiving than I. Thank God!

Tags: discipleship, journeying

Be still and know that I am God. A command to a prophet, a command to me. Of late, I have felt this call growing stronger and stronger.

It’s not to name God. Naming is good for control or some power over things. To name something, especially a fear, but also an idea or even a person gives us a handle on it. The unnamed fear is the thing of nightmares. In fantasy, to know a wizards name is to have power over him. And, I do try to name my fears so they cannot control me. This is not a call to name God. Just to be still and know.

To be still and allow myself to be. To rest. To allow the voices to blow past on the breeze.

There’s a running commentary in my head. I live a lot of my life inside. There exists inside my mind a whole universe. So, to be still, I have to turn a deaf ear to the running commentary on life. Eckert Tolle suggests stopping and asking “Am I still breathing?”

I will come to you in the silence… The opening line of David Haas’s song, “You Are Mine.”

You are a human BEING not a human DOING. Sam’s theme for the retreat day back in April.

In My Losing Season Pat Conroy talks about learning to go to that place inside where he was himself — like a room inside where he could be truly himself.

It’s not always easy to make myself settle into silence. It’s always worthwhile and always good, but I don’t get there nearly often enough. How to do it? (Oops, there’s that “doing” word again.)

I’ve heard the statement “Man made God in his image.” I’ve thought that was a bit on the blasphemous side at times. But, somehow, now it seems to be just an observation that leads me to a deeper love and awe of GOD. When we name something, we are putting it into a box so we can handle it. It gives us dominion over it in a way. I get the sense sometimes that there are those who think that they have God all wrapped up tidy in the Host at communion or adoration. Something manageable. Something controllable.

For now, I think I have to admit that not only is the Creator not controllable but also never completely knowable. How great is that! There’s always more to get to know and learn. But first, I have to begin by being still.

My Losing Season

There’s something living under a part of our deck - my guess is chipmunks, but I’ve never seen them. What I have watched is Gracie’s fascination with whatever is there. (Grace is a black mini-schnauzer) She stops suddenly, ears at attention, stub of a tail whirling like a helicopter. Then she pounces the deck in a move that I watched her predecessor use to rid our yard of moles. Pounce! Pounce! Listen. Sniff. Pounce!

Of course she can’t get through the wood of the deck. And, she hasn’t managed to dig in from the side. The space is low to the gound so she can’t squeeze herself in. But, she hears and senses that there is something very magical and interesting happening under there.

It always seems a good thing to become alert and aware and hear those quiet movements just out of reach. It seems a good thing to pay attention to them, even when it seems that I am blocked from full discovery by the wooden covering of everyday life and situations.

I don’t have a stub of a tail that can show my excitement, but I can be alive and aware and try to get through the barrier.

Tags: dogs