Gardening for God

Whenever I hear someone make the statement, “There is no proof that God exists,” I am immediately drawn to the image of a newborn babe. Particularly from a mother’s point of view (someone who has carried a little bundle inside her body for nine months), I cannot fathom how someone could believe that birth “just happens.”

As my children have grown older and I fortunately am not yet to the grandparent stage, my point of reference has shifted to images of the garden. As I sit outside after a good day of digging, mulching and pruning, I am in awe of the glory that surrounds me. While I am proud of my own handiwork that is not to what I refer.

There is so much rhythm in the garden even during this time of quiet. Bees work busily to re-pollinate the catmint I trimmed yesterday. A tiny spider spins a minute web between two flower stems. An ink black crow slowly strolls across the green grass looking for an afternoon snack. My golden dog sniffs with nose in air and ears pricked high for smells and sounds I cannot fathom. The water in my fountain gently trickles in the background and I find myself renewed, refreshed and grateful to be alive.

My muscles are tired, my hair needs a shampoo and my limbs are slightly more tan than they were a few days ago. The garden glows in the afternoon sun. How can one imagine that all these things “just happen”? It has become clear to me this spring that when I am frustrated with the world around me all I need do is walk out my door and witness the abundance that awaits me in the garden.

A gentle breeze blows an “Amen” in response.

Reminder to Self: Read this on days when you are grumpy and the skies are gray. Written on 6/18/2007, but still applicable today.

photo by lucy

holding back

I find myself holding back and I can only imagine that it is tied to years of feeling wrong, out of place and judged. I do not want to go back there AND I do not want those chains to continue to have their hold on me. So, what’s a girl to do?

I find myself on a journey of amazing possibilities with forks in the road and so many choices to be made along the way. Do they all lead to the same place? Can choices be made along the path that look different for each of us and still lead to one source? I hear the voices of my past (and occasional present) saying, “Do not stray from the narrow path. If you do, you will be wrong. You will live in eternal hell.” Ironically, it feels more like hell to follow the narrow voices that want to rein me in—to keep me from living my true nature. But wait; would that be a “sinful” nature? The one that the devil tempts me to? Yikes. It all feels so dramatic and forced and fear-based. But the voices of judgment hang tough and strong, telling me to keep myself in check.

Could those strong and tough voices of judgment be from God? Is my true nature really evil and so I need hard and fast guardrails? I think not. My heart, my soul, my very being tells me to listen to the beauty…To trust that God will meet me where I am as long as it is God I am seeking.

Hmmm...I don’t believe it is God I have the problem with ☺. The challenge is to live in the world and follow my path regardless of how others tell me I “should” live. You see I believe that the Way of Jesus is love. Period. It is God I am seeking. It is God who is seeking me. Together, we will make our own path. Period.

If you are reading this, I chose to push “publish’ and let up on the holding back…a little ☺. Thoughts? Comments? Where do you choose to listen? Heart? Head? Man? God? How do you KNOW what YOU believe? How do you discern whether it is your belief or just a hangover of others’ voices? Where do you hold back?

God is Here

I walked into the deep dark night, the crescent moon lighting my way. Tilting my head back to fill my eyes with the night sky, the Big Dipper shone straight above me, full and clear. Laughter filled my soul. God is here.

In the morning light, I headed for the river rock trail and a still small voice said, ‘Turn.’ I turned away from the path, toward the sea, and there before me was a magnificent eagle soaring in the clear blue sky. God is here.

The persistent morning wind blew through the sunlit trees. Waving. Calling. Singing. I am here. Yahweh. Spirit. God.

She built an altar out of discarded metal—a ladder representing her fears. She built an altar to a God she said she did not know—a God whose name she could not speak. He wooed. He called. He said, “I am here.”

She waited. She listened. She struggled. She railed against the hope. She slept. Peace came and washed over her through a flood of tears. She wept. She knew. She spoke the name. “God is here!!”

Easter Reflection

even in death and darkness, there is the light.
redemption. resurrection.
words of my childhood
words of my faith
words of my hope
the eyes of Jesus
death in the tomb
the light of new day
it is there
always there, heavenly Father
Mother of heaven and earth
light shines upon me and through me
the eyes of Jesus
head bowed
hair flowing
the cross & resurrection
new birth of Easter
hope
peace flows like a river from the light
to death and beyond
peace in the garden
fleeing the tomb
he is risen
she is risen indeed.

photo taken Easter morning 3.23.08 @ crown hill cemetery

Witness

Yesterday I saw God. I saw God in the face of a child. In the eyes of grown men. In the embrace of a friend. In the glow of my husband. All…Skipping. Running. Resting. Excited & joyful. Tender & strong. Men of all ages. Young. Old. In-between. All of them, little boys & men of strength. Unwavering. Speechless & shouting. Hoarse & ever so clear. On their knees & scaling the highest mountain. God was there. Brother and sister. Two souls connected as one. Mother and daughter. Heart sisters. All joined together. Magic. Holy. Eternal. The eyes of a child. Yesterday I saw God. Amen.