Advent Morning

Through the heartfelt mercies of our God,

God's Sunrise will break upon us,

shining on those in the darkness,

those sitting in the shadow of death,

then showing us the way,

one foot at a time,

down the path of peace.

Luke 1:78-79

* Photos are from the crown of thorns on my back porch. They are resplendent in the morning light.  

What the Caterpillars Know

The caterpillars know

to fill themselves

 before a long journey.

The caterpillars know

to climb, bend, twist, and stretch

 towards every nourishing leaf and petal.

Lord, help me to know what the caterpillars know.

* I got home this cloudy afternoon and the monarch caterpillars were active in the backyard. I loved capturing these images.

Seven, week one

My friend Amy has invited me to share the journey of "Seven: an experimental mutiny against excess."

Author Jen Hatmaker idenitfies seven areas of excess in her life and spends one month radically simplifying that area as a spiritual discipline. Less of us (and our stuff) and more room for God. Amy and I are spending one week in each area.

This week's focus is food. I am eating seven foods this week: chicken, eggs, peanut butter, apples, yogurt, crackers, and coffee.

I felt a sense of deprivation before 8 a.m., which let me know I better figure out why I'm really doing this. I want to come alongside Amy in friendship and I want to stir my faith.

By lunch time, I was reminded of the ways I use food as a source of comfort and calm. I face my feelings without Bluebell icecream, the salty crunch of chips, and the rich satisfaction of dark chocolate. I texted Amy that I was considering adding Panera's mac & cheese to my list of seven.

Over the course of the day, I became aware that I feel entitled to both variety and quality foods. I am feeling compassion for those whose choices and resources are severely limited or non-existant. There are 11 bottles of salad dressing in my fridge. Eleven. Where is God's invitation in this?

As the day wraps up I am grateful for simple meals and the spaciousness that is already opening around and within me.

Butterfly Iris

"Look at the ravens, free and unfettered, not tied down to a job description, 

carefree in the care of God. And you count far more." Luke 12:24, The Message

Creamy white petals sway and flutter in the breeze.

The butterfly iris is my inspiration to be carefree in the care of God. 

Confirmed

Confirmation at my church this afternoon.
118 new little brothers & sisters in Christ.

My heart overflows with joy and gratitude.
Thank you to my friend Scott for the photo taken from the balcony.

Dandelion

Seeds have been carried by the wind.
Prayers are sent for friends near and far.

Extravagance

Wandering through the crimson clover
is like receiving an unexpected and extravagant gift.

Lenten Retreat, 2012

*Images are from the Cenacle Retreat House in Houston, Texas. I left my Nikon at home and captured these with my iphone. The center photo is the trunk of a tree covered in litchen and moss.

Lent 2012

I love this couch. And I'm giving it up for Lent.

I can laze on this couch for hours. Sometimes I watch mindless shows and hop up during commericials to read a bedtime story, put clothes in the dryer, and load the dishwasher.

This couch is my comfy escape from stress and chores and fresh air and spiritual practice and exercise. I get lured me and lulled away from what offers real rest & restoration.

And so, for the next forty days, the couch is off limits.

Every time I walk through the room and every time I want to prop up in the corner cushions, I'll remember the invitation to get up and get out into the real living of life.

Remembering

In his book about the lost chalice (cup) that Jesus used at the Last Supper, Thomas Costain closes with these words:

The chalice...will be buried deep down and lie in darkness for a very long time, perhaps for centuries. When it is brought out into the light again, it will be into a far different world. The earth will be peopled with new races, tall men, beardless for the most part, with strange talk on their tongues. There will be great cities and mighty bridges and towers higher than the Tower of Babel. But evil will be loosed and they will fight long and bitter wars with frightening new forces of destruction. In such a world as this, the little Chalice will look strange and lost and very lonely. But it may be that in this age, when man holds lightning in his hand and rides the sky as Simon the Magician strove to do, it will be needed more than it is needed now."

--The Silver Chalice, 1952

I was reading Costain's book shortly after 9/11/01. The novel is a fictional rendering of what may have happened to the chalice that Jesus used to share the passover meal with his disciples. When I reached the final paragraphs, I was chilled. Several images in his description had an eery thread: great cities, towers, destruction, riding the sky. Something else is Costain's words too; the hope of healing is in the cup of Christ.

What does that mean? In a world where the unthinkable and unimaginable happened, Jesus extends an invitation to the table where we drink from his cup. A Passover celebration, the beginning of a new covenant, suffering, love, blessing, sacrifice, healing and forgiveness...all contained in the Cup of Christ. We can receive it and we can share it.




*The image is from Garth Williams, published in a children's book in 1986. My mother passed the book along and I treasure the back cover art with the twin towers.

reaching out

I found myself the center of attention,
the center of his attention
not me really, my hand

this good-for-nothing hand
injury & ugliness
right here in the open

this cursed hand
curled & weak
can't work or caress

I'm not even known by my name anymore

He asks the unimaginable
to stretch and extend
what I most need to hide

Now he's center of my attention
hand and life restored by Love
no one can undo what he's done




*A reflection on the story of the man with the withered hand in Luke 6:6-11. The image is my sun-scorched basil on the porch.

A Poem for Holy Week

Good Friday, Georgia O'Keefe

tumbleweed mesas cactus etcetera

Georgia O'Keefe picked flowers for the greenhouse
behind her scrimshaw face.

When she walked into the middle of the crucifixion no one noticed.
Eventually bystanders got bored and went home for lunch.

Stretched canvas.

Inspired but out of red paint,
Georgia squatted patient in the
crumbs of ten million champagne glasses
and looked up at this new kind of cactus.

Waiting for time to take its communion.
Waiting for bones.

from Gas Stations of the Cross
poems by Kathy Shaidle, 1990

* the image is Georgia O'Keefe's "Black Cross", 1929

My Creed

Tomorrow, I'll be helping a group of sixth graders write a creed as part of their Confirmation experience. Before I get up in front of the class, I thought I would write one of my own based on life in 2009 and looking forward to 2010.

I believe God comes to me in small moments that make all of my senses wake up...and those moments are chosen specifically so that I can recognize God's presence in me and around me.

I believe Jesus is a faithful companion who doesn't turn away from wrenching pain or circling slowness...he receives my praise with joy.

I believe the Holy Spirit stirs me to life and directs my gaze to people God wants me to see.

I believe the Bible moves like a cold clear river...quenching my thirst and cutting through the dry areas of life.

I believe the Church is where God is forming the next generation of faithful disciples who will be a changing and healing presence in the world.

I believe the Future is in God's hands...and holds many wonders and much beauty for those who are paying attention.

I look forward to posting the creed that is created tomorrow. Look for it in a few weeks.







The image is from Anthony Russo. Thank you.

new places

we've covered miles of unfamiliar terrain
some things we saw just once
others we circle again and again
now you've opened the door and
i'm going new places with you

you ask me to dance in the fading light
i try to sit this one out
but you never let me get far from your sight
now we're circling the floor and
i'm going new places with you

just when i think there's nothing new around here
a road that's been hidden
emerges for us, and it's suddenly clear
i run to the door because
i'm going new places with you





*image is from fotosearch.com

Prayer of Wheat and Weeds

Dear God,

Give me wheat
Take the weeds

What I'm asking is...

Give me nourishment

Take the things that leave me famished

Give me that which sustains

Take what leaves me disoriented

Give me what is valuable and lasting

Take my disolving treasure

And You decide what is wheat and what is weed...

...since I can't always tell the difference

Amen

Matthew 13:24-30 NRSV

24 He put before them another parable: "The kingdom of heaven may be compared to someone who sowed good seed in his field; 25 but while everybody was asleep, an enemy came and sowed weeds among the wheat, and then went away. 26 So when the plants came up and bore grain, then the weeds appeared as well. 27 And the slaves of the householder came and said to him, "Master, did you not sow good seed in your field? Where, then, did these weeds come from?' 28 He answered, "An enemy has done this.' The slaves said to him, "Then do you want us to go and gather them?' 29 But he replied, "No; for in gathering the weeds you would uproot the wheat along with them. 30 Let both of them grow together until the harvest; and at harvest time I will tell the reapers, Collect the weeds first and bind them in bundles to be burned, but gather the wheat into my barn.' "

Walking Clouds

On Fridays I go to an exercise class where I am the beginner surrounded by people who are on average about 70 years old. There's something good about being in a room of grandparents and great-grandparents. They are at least 2 decades ahead of me. I've learned that my classmates spend time with friends, schedule holidays with children & family, pursue hobbies, and keep a keen eye on their health. Immersed in such a crowd, I am getting a picture of graceful aging.

Yesterday we did a move called "Walking Clouds" where we take a small step to the left and a small step to the right, while circling our arms across the front. Moving hands and feet is challenge enough for this novice, but our Instructor has been training us to breathe in time with the movements as well.

Exhale while moving left. Inhale while moving right...or vice versa. (Like I said, I am a beginner!) Here's what happened: Before I finish the step and the arm circle, my lungs fill up, but I can't exhale until I start the next movement. So I found myself holding my breath until my body caught up. That fixes the problem of exhaling too soon, but creates a lot of discomfort while holding my breath.

When I asked my Instructor about this after class, she said it is very common to have a longer exhale than inhale and that over time my lung capacity would increase and my breathing would even out. Then she told me that to go ahead and pause between breaths...and use it as a moment to rest between movements. Consciously resting is different that making the effort to hold onto a breath that is ready to escape.

I'm always looking for how the gentle movements of tai chi can point me to something going on in my spiritual life. Here's the quote from Richard Rohr that tied this one together for me,

"...we are growing up as we move through the texts (scriptures) and deepen our experience. God does not change, but our readiness for such a God takes a long time to change. Stay with the text and with your inner life with God and your capacity for God will increase and deepen."

With practice and attentiveness, my lung capacity will increase...I will be able to take in more air and rest between breaths. And if I trust in the words of Richard Rohr, with the same kind of practice and attentiveness, my capacity and readiness for God will increase and deepen.