Every morning begins too early,
but not always.
Every day starts with an alarm,
but today I hear church bells
at first light.
And I remember from my dreams
to read John 3.
“Come to the light,
so that it may be clearly seen
that their deeds have been done in God.”
Please dear Father, help me carry your first light as my light to see what good you have created in this world, and in the people of your world. Cast out the darkness of my night so that I might walk into the day of your beauty, your earth, with your people, and yes, even of the bird and prey. By Your first light, let me see you in all. Amen
This includes a long quote, but it feels very appropriate for these times of feeling powerless over bad and senseless things happening. It brings me back again and again to remember that praying is powerful and not the least of what we can do. It is the most and first of all great acts and attitudes of love.
These words of hope reflect what I like to call the Moveable priest (intentional small p). Continue reading
I’ve been silent over here on the blog, but pen and pencil have continued scratching and scrolling in my journals. I’ve worried in degrees of ego and service that the season of my writing, and its selective exposure, might be coming to an end. I’ve wrangled with the self-centeredness of that struggle, and I’ve prayed for the fear of going silent to be outweighed by God’s purpose to be done in me. In my writing. In my life.
And then, this happens.
This horrific hatred and killing. And all I can hear in my silence with God is, “The sin in the one of us is the sin in all of us.” Quickly and assuredly, the striking commonality in being human is followed with yet more powerful words of redemption and hope.
The love in the One of us is the love in all of us.
The Gratitude List is a cornerstone in my spiritual practice. Whether proactively invited into my morning time or as an attitude adjuster when I get off the beam, it works when I work it. It brings me back into right order with God and others, into balance of not being good or bad enough to be separated from God or others. And walks me back to a place of peace in what is, and isn’t.
Today, with You, I find a slightly different language in my list of thank you’s. Continue reading
Oh wait, I haven’t been running since I turned 41. That look back makes this like child’s play – a few days in a year is nothing to twenty. And yet, like yesterday or twenty years ago I am again heckled to hate myself and plan my diet-cure by December 31. Continue reading