Sunday, May 31, 2015

Glory Be

This Trinity Sunday, I was caught more than ever by the all encompassing nature of our triune God..Point of origin, companion on the journey, and what will bear us home. There is no blank page in the empty moment. That is the way it was in the beginning, is now, and ever shall be...the trinty of time.

To reflect on this, to re-member this, is the call of Moses to the people in the first reading from Deuteronomy. It is a great reading (that BEGS to be proclaimed with a certain fervor); however, it is the last line of the Gospel that stays with me at day's end as I take up pen and keyboard.

And behold, I am with you always, until the end of the age.

And behold. Take note. Take awe seriously. Go ahead and laugh too. And beauty? Revel in it. Create it, share it, encourage it. Note the prism in tears too, and what is within. Stand with those in pain, those who suffer. Be ready to ache. And even if you are ready, it is going to out and out hurt sometimes. Behold with your being.

I am with you. So go forth and fall sometimes when you try something new. Say Yes. Try. Why not? It's not like I'm ever letting you go. Things are in your favor-- you will ultimately rise once more than you fall.

I am with you always. That? Yes, I know. The time when... Yep. Even though... Um Hm. Always. Remember, I made you. And it was a great idea I had. Trust me. Nothing can separate you from my love. Full stop.

Until the end of the ages. You know when you hold somebody and you sometimes say, "I've got you...I've got you...?" It's like that. Until you become a part of it All. Until you return...Glory unto Glory.

And behold, I am with you always, until the end of the age.

As I look back over the last week or so of my writings, I see this truth born out over and again. They have been weeks of encounter in a whole variety of settings and ways...The forsythia blooming with might and stupendous intensity; an invitation by someone who thought it would be fun to sing together; coming up with helpful metaphors for a sixteen year old to understand different academic topics; laughing loud and hard with a dear long-time friend; quiet, care filled, sharing at the end of the day with another friend; struggles in knowing how to best serve the needs of the literacy student I help, chatting with people at the farmer's market, airport runs at sunset, helping get ready for our Assembly/Chapter this summer, a stranger holding the door for me when I had a full cup of coffee...

There is no blank page in the story. Glory be to God, thanks be to God, world without end, Amen.



Monday, May 18, 2015

Hand in hand

An entry from this morning...

6:37 AM... Est l'heure de prendre un café avec une chatte qui mange son petit-déjeuner...

I woke to my room being filled with the most wonderful light...first light, warm, embracing light. Hope for that was part of my motivation for leaving my blind slats open when going to bed last night, I confess...

I enjoy the wonder of serendipity and receiving the unexpected joys of trying to live open to you; the unexpected joys of walking with my arms down at my sides, desiring to be spacious, rooted And loosely bound, the both, aware and available. That grand bit of leaf art yesterday is a perfect example. Such thorough gift sown plentifully in my wandering journey.

That said, I also enjoy planning for encounters with you. Leaving the blind slats open; rising early enough to watch the sun blink over the horizon; waiting for the fireflies; even intentionally setting out on a walk through the Public Gardens or traipsing off on a meander through the farmers' market that holds the promise of coffee, a munch, people watching, and writing.

It's a both-and, a hand in hand... I love that about you.

(And the daffodils are spectacular, by the way.)



Friday, May 8, 2015

Lighthearted Coffee Company

Coffee with Emily


Notes slid


with the slightest

curl of lip-

a poem passing,


just above the rim.



Coffee with Pablo


You left words for me

before you

and the salted dory


The conch kept them

warm in her echo.


Coffee with Walt


A flower bedecked the band

of your felted journey hat;

your shoes stayed

at the door.

Soles at rest- though

pointing onward, ever

ready to dance.


Coffee with Ogden


We took our cups

to the aquarium;

We took them to the zoo.

We made up tales

of savannah whales

who speak

as you and I do.