Sunday, November 27, 2011

Love in a time of Advent

Yesterday, I went to lunch with someone who asked me, essentially-not exactly, what it is that keeps the world so open for me. What keeps things from closing in?

This followed a conversation on Facebook in the morning with one of my rscj sisters (who blogs at Allthislifeandheaventoo) in which I was speaking of the challenge of moving to “a radically different part of the country after being somewhere that drew out so much of me, that asked me to give, to discover, to share on a whole variety of levels in a whole variety of ways. And, which in turn, fed me as well...” How that will happen here, in this place, is something I do not yet fully see.

I added, “but, all of that aside, I know that I am walking, arms open wide, with God into the unknown of ahead...and that is a grand and wondrous thing. Wouldn't want it to be easy, actually...because I don't think love is necessarily easy...but it is true, wholemaking, and faithful...”

Both of these conversations followed a dinner conversation with a friend the night before that ended on the topic of freedom, deep joy, and strength of knowing oneself to be loved and of loving in return.

The convergence of that and the Facebook chat added a deeper smile to my deceivingly simple answer to the lunch question—What is it that keeps the world so open for me? What keeps things from closing in? Love. Love and the faithful journey into greater truth, being yet more whole, more honest, open, free…

There have been times in my life when I might have believed that, but not known it “center-down”. Anything I know of it now, I know from the journey itself--the journey and the people who make and have made God known to me through their extraordinary love for me, each one uniquely, preciously, incredibly. I am not in the same geographic setting as those who go deepest, but our roots and lives are woven together by a God who dances among her people, who rides the wind, and wades in the stars, and who comforts, struggles alongside, welcomes, accepts, profoundly touches and blesses. Our lives are braided with the strength and freedom of God, who gave the world Jesus, the very Word of love, a word never lost or overcome by anything, ever.

By this love, my own heart is more able to love, my spirit more able to fly, my feet more lightly but solidly rooted…and the fruit of this is what I can offer to those around me, regardless of where that is. But it IS and I AM because of Love.

Thank you, God.

Friday, November 25, 2011

Advent I, 2011

Advent I, 2011

The full silence of waiting

is not without voice…

the groan of a wick

learning to burn

into the clamorous glory

of light.

Two from the Beach

Walking the Tides

God? I love
being able to tell you
how much I enjoy our conversations
when I walk with my sea-hair free...
wavy and tangled and just a bit wild,
as the heron is wild with an urge
to rise on the lift of salted wind.

And, I like feeling you
warm on my face,
full in the heart,
in the smooth time sitting
clean and relaxed
after the trade wind flying.

Thank you for understanding.

c. MperiodPress

Canticle of Flying, II

Teach me to fly, oh Mary of the Sea!
To skim the waves and dip my wings
into the salted ink of light;
to write my praise upon the clouds
and leave my mark upon the sand!

Leave my mark as feet among a flock
who turn together to face the wind
as a sign to others of being ready to rise,
to rise and go where bidden
by the currents and tides.

Mary of the Sea, I want to fly!
To you and toward you,
and with you and through your grace...
Let me feel you in my feathered soul
and lift, and go, and Yes!

c. MperiodPress

Friday, November 18, 2011

Thought Spots

When I think back to NYC, I can tell you immediately of my thought spots....places I found over the years where I could be relaxedly me and let my mind roam where it chose, places where my spirit broadened, deepened, stretched, loosened, to allow free passage in and out for the world in my heart. The end chair, second row back, in the Mary Chapel of Saint Francis Xavier. The flight of stairs behind the sanctuary where I'd sit to listen and write if the 9 AM Mass wasn't done yet. About 5 pews back on the aisle in the sanctuary. The steps of Union Square park. The front steps and reading room of the New York Public Library on 5th Ave. The window-well wall outside of school that was wide enough to sit on with lunch. The corner of the couch in our living room.

I miss those spots like I miss favorite jeans when they have to go...I miss how they seemed to know me as much as I knew them, their contours, creases, and places worn they seemed to wrap around me and say "welcome home, so glad you are here, it is right that you're here, this is a you-shaped spot."

I knew these places as a child, too. I sought them and found them with ease. In fact, it was less intentional than responding to an invitation they offered, now that I think back on it. I gravitated toward snug, tucked-in places. Beneath the canopied branches of the buckeye tree at the top of the yard, in the hay loft of a neighbor's barn, lost in between the stacks of the public library, and one of my favorites--the upper bunk of a family friend's camper, parked in the driveway.

Finding new thought spots takes time...and it reminds me a bit like a more philosophical version of Goldilocks. Though, I fully realize that I can and do think, write, pray, and read anywhere that is available. It can be frustrating, to be sure, and oh, I miss New York City... But, I also believe that in my wanders I am learning more contours of The Heart.

I believe that because I believe that there is nothing that can separate us from the Love of God. And I have come to see that thought spots are resting ground in the journey to know The Heart.

So it is that I walk attentively and in faith, listening as I make my way, testing the shape of things, not knowing when the invitation will come, but ever so curious and desiring.

Wednesday, November 2, 2011

Blooming again...

The lilies seem to be blooming again, for which I am grateful. There for a while, I had my doubts...but sometimes I think a little break is not a bad thing. Nor is hearing from someone--"Don't let it go!"

I just had to wait a while, that is all. Wait for my heart to begin to grow into this new place I inhabit; wait for my mind to wrap around the fact that I wasn't where I was and would not find here what I found there; wait for my spirit to sigh and say, "Well, okay then."

Yes, though the fall has come in a crunchy palette of raining earth tones, there are flowers blooming too.