Blessed are you...

Blessed are you, O Lord, the God of our fathers,
praiseworthy and exalted above all forever;
And blessed is your holy and glorious name,
praiseworthy and exalted above all for all ages.
Blessed are you in the temple of your holy glory,
praiseworthy and exalted above all forever.
Blessed are you on the throne of your kingdom,
praiseworthy and exalted above all forever.
Blessed are you who look into the depths
from your throne upon the cherubim;
praiseworthy and exalted above all forever.
Blessed are you in the firmament of heaven,
praiseworthy and glorious forever.

-Daniel 3:52-56

This is the passage that greeted me this morning in preparation for my morning Lenten worship. Below are the words that spilled out as I closed my eyes and considered what is moving in me this season in regard to this God of blessed be.

Blessed are you who meets me where I am,
in the quiet moments and hectic days.
Blessed are you who comes like a whisper in my breath
and spreads images of majesty before me.
Blessed are you who comes incarnate through the smile
of another, the touch of a hand or a kind word.
Blessed are you who shines in the light of the candle
and sings through the song of the sparrow.
Blessed are you who meets me where I am -
wretched, unholy, empty & longing to be filled.
Blessed are you who greets me with a belly full
of laughter under a starlit sky.
Blessed are you who remains faithful through
my questions and storms.
Blessed are you who stands as sentinel in the night
throughout my slumbering dreams or restless tossing.
Blessed are you I could name for an eternity
and never be complete.
Blessed are you who simply says, I AM,
and this is enough.
Amen. Amen. Amen.

Maui road © h3images.com- used with permission

dark

Throughout this Lenten week of praying with the hours and focusing on the four cycles of breath, I have discovered my own ambivalence with the time of dark (emptiness) that follows the exhale. This pondering continues to permeate my days and many words and metaphors have popped into my mind. For today, however, I share with you the initial thoughts in the breath cycle following dawn, day and dusk.

Darkness. Empty. Despair. I am frightened here.

The stillness in the depth of the ocean, waiting to be stirred. Waiting and knowing the hand of God will reach down deeply and meet me in this darkness.

The dark in the night of my five year old self, afraid to look under the bed.

Oh, the dark of night when stars shine and the Big Dipper speaks to me of fullness and joy. To be emptied out in order to be filled again.

God meets me in the dark.

dusk

Moving through the cycle of breath, dusk comes at the time of release and outbreath. Let go. Let down. Surrender. Feel the embrace of the beloved. Be held in those loving arms. Release into the autumn of my life. I do not have to let go of beauty. Simply - release, surrender, breathe.

"How far have I to go to find you in whom I have already arrived." -- Thomas Merton

Last evening I created the above collage to honor the hour of dusk, and this morning I stumbled upon Merton's quote witnessing to the same hour of the day. Here are the words that tumbled out when combining the three movements of breath, collage & response:

Already arrived. Already home to myself. One with God, Christ, Spirit. I don't have to go anywhere. I already have everything I need. The hour of dusk allows me to settle into those words. The words of God and the words of the day. All that has gone before me surrounds me - like laundry blowing in the wind. Perhaps it will touch me. Perchance I will be enveloped in the embrace. Perhaps I will exhale deeply into emptiness - allowing myself to be filled by God once again.

The exhale empties me. I can allow myself to feel alone - to feel the need to go somewhere - to find someone to hold me or something to ground me. Or... I can sink into the truth that I am already surrounded by everything I need. The wholeness comes by feeling all the hours of the day - every cycle of breath and every season of life. My wholeness is coming. My wholeness has already arrived.

Where are you feeling wholeness today? Is it illusive or can you rest in knowing you have already arrived?

day

"And then the day came when the risk to remain tight in a bud was more painful than the risk to bloom." --Anais Nin

Continuing through the cycle of the hours and the breath started here, I pause after the inhale of dawn and survey what greets me in the fullness of the day. Multiple images surface in this season: standing at the edge of a high dive - clinging to the open door of an airplane - arms spread wide at the peak of a mountain top. In each case, I hold my breath. I am ready to jump and anything is possible. Will I dare to risk what lies before me? Will I accept the risk to bloom and reach further?

The pause at the top of the inhale speaks to me of fullness and risk. I'd love to know... what does it say to you?

dawn

The blessings of Lent continue to be deep and full. This week's focus from Abbey of the Arts is the spiritual practice of praying with the hours. Yesterday morning I sank deeply into the practice of following the breath throughout the hours of the day. Vivid images came to my mind as I focused on inhale (dawn); pause (day); exhale (sunset/evening); and pause (night/darkness).

This morning I chose to spend my meditation time listening to gentle, dawn-like music and collaging some of the images that entered my mind yesterday. Above is the result of today's musings. Dawn and the breath of inhale reminds me of rising possibilities; a sense of filling; and always golden light.

I invite you to take some time with your breath today (particularly the inhale) and see if there are certain images evoked when you consider the new day (dawn) and/or the inhale of breath.

Golden blessings to you this day!