Tag Archives: discernment

Through Darkness: Not Knowing

08 Sunday Dec 2019

Posted by in advent, darkness, Uncategorized, waiting

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The Lord, my God, lights up my darkness..Ps. 18:28

Sometimes Advent is dark because I need direction. Even in the mundane choices in my world there are so many options! And so much seems to be elastic and unknown. When it comes to making choices that are merciful, just and kind, the right thing is not always clear. Nor are the directions in which I should go–to the right? to the left? straight ahead? back?

The Advent cast of characters must have had similar questions. Mary: what should I do? Joseph: what should I do? the shepherds: where in Bethlehem will be find something that has “come to pass”? And surely the Wise Ones had to make choices or throughways, overnight stays and allocation of resources for the day to day persistent journey. For them there was a Star keeping them on track, and I wonder if lighting the Advent candles, two this week, is a way of my keeping my eyes on the one thing most necessary–looking for the ways that the Holy shines on and in me and illuminates my path, footstep by footstep.

I confess I would like a clear, reliable GPS reading for each day of Advent, in fact for the rest of my life. But I am comforted by the words of Carrie Newcomer:

I am learning to live without knowing/ when I don’t see where it’s going…Here’s a clear space I’ve chose/where the denseness of this world opens/where there’s something steady and true. regardless of me and of you.

Each of the Advent travelers knew this truth, and it is a call to me as I light the second candle. My faith is in the One who daily places a Star on the route in front of me, step by step, even if I can’t see Steps three, five and ten.

The prophet Isaiah knew about not knowing, waiting, watching , listening discerning. He even tells us that God is waiting…to be gracious to us, to me (Isaiah 30:18), and when we join in that waiting, “your eyes shall see your Teacher, And when you turn to the right or when you turn to the left, your ears shall hear a word behind you saying, “This is the way; walk in it.” (vv.21,22).

So in this darkness I wait with my two candles this week, trusting that there is something steady and true, eager to share another step for me–in aging, in loving, in reaching out, in bringing hope and love to the world in the name of the One in Coming and will come again! Advent continues!

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Out of Balance

31 Sunday Jul 2016

Posted by in balance, centering, community, faithfulness

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I have lost the last month of activity due to a bout with sciatica, which in my case is enabled by a life long habit of walking and sitting out of balance. The right side of my body has been carrying most of the freight of  my balance most of my life, and I learned when I first encountered this condition that with physical therapy and exercise, I could amend this imbalance, were I to be faithful to those practices. But, I allowed other, more accessible, more interesting, more appealing activities to overtake those necessary practices, and there it was: a flare up of the old malady.

I am making progress in redressing in imbalance, but was reminded that my own malady is an embodiment of so many things in our world right now. So much is out of balance–in our environment, in our allocation of resources needed for living, in our political processes, in our church identities, in our relationships, in our own calendars and planners, in our own estimate of our own value and worth. How did we get so off kilter? What have we allowed to take over our perspective and values? Where have we allowed ourselves to be pulled and pushed off the Center?

In my recovery as I have tried to re-calibrate my body, I have had to ask two questions. First, how do I keep myself in touch with the core, the organizing One of my life? My discomfort threw me out of my regular extended practices of prayer and reading, so what brief but constant connections do I need to be making? I found that in this time, since I was so focused on my body already, I could really use breath prayer to remember Who made me just the way I am, the Spirit who lives within me to heal, to energize, to teach, to give me Life. I also found that the music of my life was accessible in the heart as I tried to go to sleep, as I walked, as I re-established my patterns of exercise: “Loving God, here I am,””Peace, be still, the storm rages, peace be still,” “Jesus, lover of my soul, let me to thy bosom fly…”  In addition sacred words, repeated in my heart kept me on target: In life and in death, I belong to God. I remembered that in my tradition, the first act of spiritual practice is to give thanks, so I resurrected my gratitude list, recalling every day what gifts I was being given: a new iris in the front yard, a surprise phone call, a new author or piece of music, a coming together of a project. Thank you God for everything!

In addition to to my own practices, in order to restore my own balance I need the help of others. In my first attempts to begin healing, I couldn’t walk very far without the help of a companion, usually my husband. I have begun walking around the block now, but having had the occasional setback, I still need to hang on during the treacherous parts of upturned pavement, the sharp turns or the surprise lurches. I have needed to ask people to drive me places that are farther than my leg can sustain. I have needed to invite people to come see me at home, rather than go to them. I need a community of people willing to help me out.

When I look at our global and national imbalance, I am conscious that it is only together that we can restore the balance of Spirit that we need so desperately. Therefore, I am so grateful for every voice that calls us to those practices of prayerful action that turn us toward the Holy One, toward God’s intent for justice with mercy, that articulates our call to speak peace even as we pray for our enemies. I need exemplars to give me courage and a template for returning good in the face of evil, for being peace in the midst of chaos, for bringing wholeness in the broken places; for every one who has made herself heard in this way, I give thanks.

Among the things that this latest physical setback has taught me is the fact that striving toward balance is a constant work in progress. I need to be vigilant and faithful in my exercises, mindful of the way I carry myself, observant of those patterns that let me slide. The day of ultimate perfect eternal balance may not come in my life time, but in my own person and in my participation on the world God made, with the compassion and energy of the community, I need to keep up the  holy work of finding balance for the healing of us all.

 

 

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Longing for Light to Follow

06 Wednesday Jan 2016

Posted by in Christmas, Epiphany, Hope, illumination, pilgrimage, wisdom

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Today is Epiphany, the daychihulyTampa when the Church remembers and celebrates the arrival of the wise ones who have been following the Light in the shape of a Star in the East and now have stopped over that place where the Child was. I do not envy them the journey over miles and years, but I do envy the vision and clarity of the Star that took them right to the place where their hearts longed to be.

In reading one of my gifts from Christmas, Alexander McCall Smith’s The Woman Who Walked in Sunshine, I saw myself reflected in Mma Precious Ramotswe’s self-reflection after her colleague suggests she might want a holiday:

Mma Ramotswe looked down at her hands, folded passively on her lap. Was she getting stale? She looked at her shoes. at her faithful brown shoes with their broad soles and their flat heels. Were these the shoes of a stale person?  (21)

My shoes are not broad, brown and flat, but  I am wondering if parts of me are stale. I do know that when I have been musing on this part of the Christmas season, my heart is lightened when I think of this part of the ancient story of Epiphany, of wisdom meeting new life, of coming into new territory, of being filled with joy. And I have a longing for some of that lightness.

I didn’t make New Year’s resolutions this year, I usually don’t. However, I did find myself praying for Light and Hope, but the prayers were nestled in vows I took long ago when I was ordained as a Minister of Word and Sacrament. In those vows I promised each time I recited them at each new call,  that I would seek to serve the people with energy, intelligence, imagination and love. So my prayer this year has become that I will encounter the Star of Light that will burnish my energy, intelligence, imagination and love, so that they more shine more brightly in me and through me to the people I am given to care for. I am aware that after thirty years, each of those intentions might have become stale–or maybe are just in need of re-calibration after an encounter with the Holy One.

In this decade of my life my energy is not the same as when it needed to meet the requirements of the rhythms of life that tried to balance my calling at church or seminary, commuting, raising children, caring for aging parents and keeping loving alive. My brain does not retain new information, nor does it remember familiar facts with the facility it once did. In some ways my imagination is more lithe and fantastic than it used to be, now that I put it to use only with taking flight with grand-children or hoping for outcomes not constricted by by-laws; that one glistens more brightly. And there is love! Always the Word–the greatest of these, always coming to me from Grace. But in some places and times it has felt more taxing. Weariness in well-doing has tarnished some of that first love; or that sense that one has lived long enough to say with the Preacher in Ecclesiastes, “there is nothing new under the sun,” and it seems that no new thing to savor, to take delight in, no new face to enchant with affection.

And so my prayer on this Epiphany is that the Star will shine in me, for me and through me:

Star of Wonder, shine on and energize my body and spirit so that I can make the treks over mountains and deserts to offer who I am to those who are ready to receive me.

Star of Beauty Bright, enliven my synapses and retrieve my skill sets, so that I can continue to bring ideas and strategies to the tables of conversation and cooperation in the things that make for peace.

Star of Night, shine through my dreams so that my imagination will be further illuminated with things that my eyes have not yet seen or my ears have not heard, but that add beauty and grace to the world around me.

Star of my Heart, keep the fires of Love burning, stoked and warm, brilliant and comforting, as long as my heart will beat.

In the name of that Bright and Morning Star, Amen.

 

 

Personal photo from Dale Chihuly Center, St. Petersburg, FL.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Sacred Reading

28 Wednesday Oct 2015

Posted by in Discernment, sacred reading, sources of Spirit

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images-4My friend Wendy has a blog called Bookgirl; I think i must be her twin from another mother because one of the major streams of that which gives me Life is reading. I am a book girl too! I learned to read when I was four years old, and have never stopped. Lately, however, I am musing on how my reading has and does shape my journey of Spirit, and whether or not the things I read are taking me deeper and farther in that journey.

A few days ago I received a longed for order of books from my regular on-line purveyor of books of all kinds, and as I opened one which I had ordered, my body sank into a place of comfort and joy. “This, this is where my soul will be fed,” I felt as I dived in head first. I was at home immediately, and began to be satisfied with nourishing comestibles, as if I had been starved for a long time. I know that my love for books, for reading, has been a life-line for my spirit, as well as my mind. I have been filled by poetry, by novels, by memoirs, by theological tomes, by op-ed articles, even by blogs. I have notebooks full of quotation and favorite lines, some of which I have been able to commit to memory. I dive for the Book Section of the Sunday newspapers as soon as they appear. I love to engage in dialogue about a book that I am reading at the same time as a soul friend.

However, recently I have found after reading some of the latest and greatest on the top sellers list, or even topping off a “must-read” from a friend, that my mouth is full of ashes, rather than good tastes, that my soul is more anxious than satisfied, and that I am still empty, rather than full of hope or challenge. I am not always sure what prompts me to pick up a book. Possibly it has become in some instances a way of staving off anxiety or delaying an unpleasant task; could I be trying to keep up with the Literary Joneses? At this stage of my life, the last half or third, do I want to invest in that which fills for a moment but does not satisfy?

I am musing on what criteria I need to bring to my reading; here are some which I have uncovered:

  • does it bring me Life?
  • does it deepen my understanding of the Holy One and of the chaotic world in which we live?
  • is there a window to the world that needs opening in my soul that this reading can provide for me?
  • does it buoy me with its beauty?
  • does it challenge me to take what I read and use it energetically in the healing of creation and its creatures?
  • is this the right season for my reading this book, or does it reflect an age and stage that I have passed already or one that lies far ahead of me?

I am starting here, knowing that I have more musing to do. What I long for is to let the stream of good things that come to me in my reading help me to glorify the Holy, and to enjoy the Holy forever! I remember these wise words from Philippians: Whatsoever is true, whatsoever is honorable, whatsoever is just, whatsoever is pure, whatsoever is pleasing, whatsoever is commendable, if there is any excellence and if there is anything worthy of praise , think about these things. (Phil 4:8)

Spirit, direct my eyes, my mind and me heart!

The painting is “Young Girl Reading” by Jean-Honore Fragonard, located in the National Gallery of Art, Washington D.C.

Freed to be Free

04 Tuesday Aug 2015

Posted by in Discernment, freedom, Spirit

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Freedomstatue I recently found the first sermon I ever preached to a congregation, over 30 years ago. It was called “Freed to be Free,” based on Galatians 5, and I preached it on a summer Sunday when all the regular church staff was away. I was in seminary, had had no preaching classes, just trying to imitate what I had always heard from the pulpit. I am not sure why I was preaching on that text, because I didn’t know much about the lectionary at that stage of my learning. But as I re-read it, I could see clearly that the call to freedom in my spiritual journey was compelling and urgent for me. And the call to a journey of freedom in the Spirit still compels and invites me.

I began to wonder how I have lived into the FREEDOM that is called me so deeply when I first preached on it. I see how careful I was, coming from whence I came, being sure not to allow for uncontrolled license, or to confuse FREEDOM with “doing what comes naturally.” I felt is necessary to speak a cautionary word about anger and self-centeredness, but I was not able to anticipate the ways in which I would become free on my journey of Spirit.

This past month, I have found myself unable to write anything. And maybe that was the FREEDOM I needed–no self-imposed deadlines, no internal pressure to find meaning or something meaningful, no meeting my own carefully crafted intentions. Maybe I needed to listen to the Word that came to me when I was on retreat, which was to “Just stop!” I am at a delicious location in life, where in most ways, I can do just that–stop, let it all go for awhile. And so I have. This July I have completed no projects, no ambitions, not even many lists of to-dos.

But I have been and still am  continually musing on how, when and where I am living in the freedom for which Christ made me free:

  • I am free to remember and marinate in, maybe even to trust, that there is nothing that can separate me from the Love of God.
  • I am free to love and appreciate my person that God created–body, mind and spirit.
  • I am free without fear to allow the Spirit to gentle and guide me through whatever means She chooses: sources from my own tradition, those of other traditions, using words or no words.
  • I am free to love those that are brought to me whether or not we seem to have things in common or whether we agree on anything.
  • I am free to let go of judgement of another person’s motives and behaviors, while holding one to my own beliefs and convictions.
  • I am free to speak and act for justice and mercy for those who have no voice or agency or protection.
  • I am free to bring my gifts and talents to the communities in which I dwell, and free to say “no” when the call does not have my name on it.
  • I am free to trust my own discernment about where and when the Spirit is inviting me to show up; to quote a beloved teacher, “The need does not constitute the call.”
  • I am free to enter into the deep waters of forgiveness–offering it, asking for it, receiving it–and then “letting it go.” This is applies even when musing on my own failures and shortcomings.
  • I am free to give thanks for the abundances of my life–people who have loved and are still loving me, places I have dwelt where I experienced Holy Presence, moments of “kairos” time, where I with others recognized that surely God was in that place.
  • I am free to continue to be a growing up, all the days I am given to live, not ever needing to call a halt to the practices of Spirit that deepen my understanding of the Holy and how I am called to live and move in the moment.

My understanding of God’s freedom for and in me keeps growing…I keep being set free; I am banking of the words of Jesus from the book of John: If the Son makes you free, you will be free indeed. May it be so!

Down to Earth

19 Friday Jun 2015

Posted by in action, body, earth, presence, wisdom

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FirstMushroom15LastIrises15All of my life of the Spirit takes place in my body planted in the physical world where I am rooted. As much as I would love to waft far and away above earth’s lamentations, I find myself often, much like Winnie-the-Pooh floating with his balloon, being thumped along the cold and bumpy ground, because I am a human being in a created body that is made of dust, and to dust I will return.

My intention to be peace is interrupted by an urgent phone call from a neighbor needing assistance. My vision of resting in the Spirit gets cluttered with the trash that the dog has strewn all over the back yard. My song of praise is cut short by the sounds of sandblasting next door. My prayers intended to be incense rising are more often overridden by the stench of garbage spilled on the sidewalk. My words that I crafted to be like apples of gold is a setting of silver are drowned out by the yammering rhetoric of both public and private pundits of politics. How do I keep my attention on the Holy when there is so much that might distract and divert it?

My new drought-resistant garden has been a teacher to me about my earthliness this season. Its variety and its beauty are continual surprises each morning, but not all the surprises are welcome ones. Suddenly one morning, a year after the lawn has been taken out, all the earth in the front yard has been replaced, completely new plantings have taken root, I find a wild invasive mushroom blooming. It is not edible, nor is it useful; it was not what I wanted, but there it is. It needs to be removed. Attention must be paid! The garden is not Eden, it is made from dust, as I am, and not everything that grows there is beautiful or necessary. I turn aside to take care of it before I continue to glory in the beauty of the irises that proliferate.

Maybe this is the next teaching: the same earth that spawned the mushroom also provided the nourishment for the fabulous flowers! The spiritual lesson is to be awake, attentive, and discerning. What is mine to notice? what is mine to act on? what is mine to savor and thank God for? what is mine to prune, to tend and to water? I find I need to be more mindful; I cannot just send up a prayer and hope it all turns out right. My spirit need to act in concert with my hopes and dreams.

In these freshly troubled days of reflection after the murders at Mother Emmanuel Church in Charleston, SC, I am asking myself what and how do I need to act in order to contribute to a cessation of violence and hatred in this country. Every sound bite I hear, every op-ed piece I read, every pastoral letter I receive offers a different piece of advice. The fabric of this world, this nation, our people is so tattered and torn. I am brokenhearted and baffled. So I am back to the discerning prayer until Wisdom comes.

I also am reminded too that I am earthen–we have this treasure in clay jars (2 Cor.4:7)–and I am limited, fragile and imperfect. So The Solution to the Evils in the World does not rest on me alone. The discerned actions that I will be led to take will be ones that participate in the clarification that it is God who is able to do more than I can believe or imagine to redeem this crisis, both the immediate one in South Carolina and the deeper, more tragic sin and brokenness that springs out of this evil in the world. So we do not lose heart.

As I wend my way though the dusty paths I am called to wander today, I pray for compassion, for wisdom, for courage, trusting the Word of the Holy, that what is required is that I be faithful to the call of Christ to be just and to be merciful, and to be creative, discerning and energetic in living out my earthbound journey of Spirit.