Peace

Lord let your peace
grow in me.
Let it expand
to places unknown.
Let it fill me
and gather
my fretful self to You.

Peace to my fingers
to the things I hold
Peace to my feet
to the places I go
Peace to my mind
to the thoughts that grow
And Peace to my heart
that Your love might show.

Gratitude

Green grass
Golden leaves
Grace in generous hearts
Goofy grins on children’s faces
Gratitude the gift received
Generosity a giver’s bequest
Gorgeous sunrises-lifting fog
Gentle words a breath from God
Generations growing -gifts of age
Glorious Lord, Creator artist
Grand friendship and gifting Presence

A couple of days ago I was on my way home and saw the most beautiful shelf cloud.  It was so beautiful, white against a gray background.  I was so grateful that I was where I was and able to see it span the river, from one bluff across to another.  I was so grateful for that moment in time.  I still am.

 

Sacred Shearing

Tonight I cut her hair,
an intimate scalping…
a butchering of beauty.

How inadequate my scissors
for this surgery,
slowly staged
to ease the reality
to be faced in every mirror…

mirror on the wall
who has cancer…

First long tresses
to only tears…
this sacred shearing
my soul left bare.

Someone I had met only a short time before this sacred moment, had been diagnosed with cancer.  She had a hysterectomy and then went through a round of chemo and as she began to loose her hair, she asked me to cut it before she lost much of it.  She had thick curly hair that she was proud of.  I tried to spare her by cutting in increments, but in the end it all came off. 

The Raven Dance

Let’s go into the desert,
and watch the ravens dance
we’ll find an odd companion
and wander away the day

Who has wandered this desert
what life was ever found?
There is no water
no shade or ease
this place of death
and drought.

We’ll find a thirst
and our desire
and watch the ravens dance
We’ll eat and sleep
and eat again
a rhythm till we rise.

The desert doesn’t last
It’s where the saints have gone
to listen for the Wind
and watch the angels dance.

1 Kings 19:5-9

1 Kings 17:1-5

 

The wilderness, the desert, the “dark night of the soul” are places of invitation.  We only discover the “invitation to what?” by moving into those places.  It can be unsettling to be there, to feel very alone.  But there is a treasure there that cannot be found anywhere else.

Embrace the Mess

I have been a Christian, follower of Christ, for going on many years and the faith of my youth is very different from that of my current state. I appreciate the world I grew up in, but it was very much a bubble. A conservative, rosy bubble that hasn’t been popped from the reality of the outside coming in, but from my own finger poking the boundaries of my traditional teachings. Questions, so many questions have been asked by my brain when I see so many inconsistencies which has led to so much searching and quiet frustration, but it is that frustration and through that searching that I find the Christ that draws my spirit to his.

I found hope… help in a spiritual memoir that I just finished called, Pastrix: The Cranky, Beautiful Faith of a Sinner & Saint, by Nadia Bolz-Webber. At first I read it as a way to check off one of my quarterly bucket list items, but then I realized that at the heart of this book is what I have believed for several years now: faith is messy and rarely lived honestly. That means me.

One of the things I wrestle with most, is the idea of God sitting on his holy throne waiting to forgive me for the sin I am obviously going to commit. It always feels like he is waiting for me to sin. Which, hello, human here! I do. But Nadia paints a picture that is not of a God far away on his throne, but of one that is right here redefining my identity.

“I need to clarify something, however. God’s grace is not defined as God being forgiving to us even though we sin. Grace is when God is a source of wholeness, which makes up for my failings. My failings hurt me and others and even the planet, and God’s grace to me is that my brokenness is not the final word. My selfishness is not the end-all… instead, it’s that God makes beautiful things out of even my own shit. Grace isn’t about God creating humans as flawed beings and then acting all hurt when we inevitably fail and then stepping in like the hero to grant us grace– like saying “Oh, it’s OK, I’ll be a good guy and forgive you.” It’s God saying, “I love the world too much to let your sin define you and be the final word. I am a God who makes all things new.” pg. 50

Life is hard. Life is messy. But I don’t think life is about staying clean– not spiritually speaking. I feel like I have been taught over and over again to stay clean, resist sin, don’t associate with the unclean unless you are going to save their eternally damned souls (not in those words per se, but you know…), and a step more, I have said/taught those things (but you know, not with those words per se). But that is so Us Vs. Them. Right vs. Wrong. You Vs. Me. But it does nothing for the soul. No transformation, no change takes place when we seperate ourselves from whoever “They” are. Because, I am them! We are they! It isn’t about you or them, my faith deals with Jesus, my poop, and my belief in ressurection.

“Ressurection never feels like being made clean and nice and pious in those Easter pictures. I would have never agreed to work for God if I had believed God was interested in trying to make me nice or even good. Instead, what I subconsiously knew, even back then, was that God was never about making me spiffy; God was about making me new.” pg. 174

Maybe faith is like sex, you know it is good if it is messy and honest.

Now, on to my next book, If You Ask Me (And of Course You Won’t), by Betty White.