Advent I 2012

(Image from Hubble space telescope, Nov. 2008)




Advent I 2012

 

In the already not yet waiting

of birth time bright and never before,

 

Oh let me sing

praise...sing praise

of what I don't yet know

but trust will be

 

of shimmering heart,

of Love, of Word, of Wonder.

 

c. MperiodPress

 

Love in the time of Dinosaurs

If you see Gabriel sometime, please let him know that someone found his dinosaur. Or, if you should see a dinosaur and he seems a little lost and confused, his name might be Gabriel. Try calling his name and see how he responds.

Finding this tag in a wet parking lot reminded me all over again why I do not like The Velveteen Rabbit. There are parts of it that are lovely, of course, but it has always bothered me that the rabbit was left behind by the child. Left in the rainy yard, alone, steeping in the forgetfulness of its child-owner. At least, that is how i remember it. Yet, as I know, love prevails...and it is love that makes us Real...and sometimes becoming Real hurts.

As an adult, I understand something of the difficult honor that love is, and that ultimately, yes, Love is whole making, and it draws me on toward the unknown wonder of what is ahead, and that Love is home and hard and liberating and consoling and ah and wow and tears and silence and laughter and letting go...and profoundly Real.

Dinosaurs were real once...and if you ask a child, they might still be. I think that's fantastic...

Long live Love, and long live little Gabriel and his dreams, wherever he may be.

 

From a window

This is not the third window of Chesterton/Janet Erskine Stuart, referenced in a post a few weeks back. It is not the window on the world, the window of opportunity, or even a Rear Window. And yet, for me, today, this is a window of salvation that affords a view beyond where I am at the present moment.

This window is in the public library I found in the town where I am staying...it is a window out, and a window in... A window in toward a familiar warmth of surroundings, good sockets, and free wifi...helpful people, a pleasant buzz of quiet chatter, and the occasional papery flick as a story progresses. A window out, beyond range of my sight and reach of my arms.

It has not been a good day, in spite of varying interpretations of what that might mean. Though, I can also say that gratitude fills the writing I did this morning. Gratitude for the love and accompaniment of friends who are with me on this journey, gratitude for the extraordinary love of God that wraps me in the fragrant steam of bergamot that rises from the Earl Grey I held earlier to warm my hands and spirit.

I yearn to see beyond on days like this...to see past the moment while also being present to the moment, reminding myself of both "here I am" and "there also I will be." ... to know with the deep sigh of knowing that things might not be better or nice or done up neat and tidy there either.

...and to be okay with that, to say Amen and thank you and go forward with wafts of bergamot steaming gently at my fingertips.


 

The Life of the Word

The Life of the Word

Not long ago,

two moments passed.

My poem spoke in Spanish,

(I had no idea it could),

while a neighboring thought

broke free of its paper cocoon,

versifying in a widening spiral,

dizzying itself and drawing in those who would listen

until all we could do was delight

in the washing-over smear of colors,

in the carbonated crackle of Life.

c. MperiodPress

 

RevGals: the Reader's Edition

It's another Friday Five from RevGals!

You probably have, like me, a study full of books. Maybe they spill into another room. They go with you in the car to appointments when you might have some dead space in your schedule. In my study, the books are double-stacked and in somewhat precarious piles. I've always dreamed of a study that looked like this:

Recently I decided to re-organize my study and put books of like topic and purpose together. (Of course, they don't stay that way -- but that's another matter!) I also culled out some books which I hesitated to even donate to the library book sale because they were either extremely outdated or had content that I didn't want the unexamined mind to read. (Not quite as bad as "The Total Woman" but... you get my drift!)
SOooo... with that in mind, let's talk about the books in your life!

STUDYING: What is your favorite book or series for sermon prep or study? Or have you moved from books to on-line tools for your personal study?

Related to a talk I am giving next week, “Deep Down Things:  Listening for Story within the Sacred Heart,” I have been reading We Live Inside Story, by Megan McKenna.

2. IN THE QUEUE: Do you have a queue of books you are longing to read or do you read in bits and pieces over several books at a time? What's in the queue?

Hm… I like having a book going that I can pick up and put down easily—Poetry and Bill Bryson both nicely fill this need for me.  At the moment, I have Made in America, The Small Continent, and At Home in different stages…as well as a little Antonio Machado, Pablo Neruda, and Wislawa Szymborska.  But, I am also reading the latest Mary Russell/Sherlock Holmes mystery and the Megan McKenna title from above.  Wise Man's Fear, by Patrick Rothfuss and As Always, Julia  by Julia Child/Avis DeVoto are waiting patiently on the shelf.

3. FAVORITE OF ALL TIME: What's one book that you have to have in your study? Is it professional, personal, fun or artistic? (For instance, I have a copy of Alexander and the Terrible, Horrible, No Good, Very Bad Day. It just helps sometimes.) 

One?!  May Sarton’s The Magnificent Spinster, a collection of Neruda, and my Bible that’s been around the world with me.

4. KINDLE OR PRINT? or both? Is there a trend in your recent purchases? 

Both.  Love them both for different reasons.  Print has the whole sensory/environment thing going for it, as well as inviting a more personal interaction.  E-reading is incredibly practical and exceedingly portable.

5. DISCARDS: I regularly cruise the "FREE BOOKS" rack at our local library. (I know, I know. It's a bad habit!) When's the last time you went through your books and gave some away (or threw some away?) Do you remember what made the discard pile?

I winnow when I move… the last move was a year and a half ago and wow did the local library sale shop make out like nobody’s business!  I try not to purchase fiction too often because I know I can check it out from the library and I am less likely to re-read it.  Poetry I will purchase…as well as other non-fiction books.

With thanks to GMH

(With thanks to the influence of Gerard Manley Hopkins...)

Fall's Shooting Stars

I walked amidst a thousand stars
fallen from the trees…
wet with newborn wondrous being
while offering their triumphant
fiery falling whistle 
as a mosaic for my feet.

c.MperiodPress

Sensitivity to Touch

Here I am at the day's conclusion, watching the moon begin its cabaret song as the sun bows from the stage... and I am watching my hands as they type while I also reflect on the day.

These hands today have held an incredible kitchen knife and thrilled at the ease with which it dispatched a pile of chicken breasts destined to be skewered and barbecued for a fund-raiser.  I confess that a small part of the joy of volunteering was knowing that it was likely that I would get to feel the keen functionality of a finely cared for tool.  It does what it does well and confidently, with purpose, deftness, and sensitivity.  It was quite pleasing to work with it.

Today, these hands have given in to a desire that often comes to me when proclaiming the Word at liturgy...the desire to touch the text as I let it fill me and then offer it in voice.  This is a holy touch.  My fingers reverence the printed word as it rests on the page and I ask that if it be the will of God, I would like to take it within and proclaim it well, to breathe it so deeply that it might be be heard, seen, felt, and shared with others.

In the last several days, these hands have reached for the hand of a friend thousands of miles away and as near as both the beat of my heart and the glow of the computer screen.

With each touch there is an exchange...the hand respects the tool, the tool works for the hand; touch honors the Word, Word fills the senses; the touch of the heart is not daunted by distance, distance graciously contracts.

Such a sensitive and extraordinary gift...