Passion and Glory

“Participation in glory is the greatest thrill one can have on this earth.” When I heard these words spoken recently by Professor Dan Allender something stirred deep within me. Glory and passion seem uniquely intertwined. As I shared the post, “Passionate Loess” I thought I was relaying my witness of one man’s passion. I was pleasantly surprised by how this witness stirred others to consider their own passion.

My passion is seeing other people come alive. It is something that comes in the most unexpected of times and places. I have seen glory in perfect transformation when a woman long bent over from the weight of her world stood tall with a new awareness shining upon her face. I saw glory as an addict realized that his hunger for drugs was representative of a deeper longing and he chose to nourish his soul rather than his habit. I see glory when my readers here struggle through their own process to name their passion. Many passionate comments were made in response to the post, and they were a delight to read. Two readers actually went on to make their own posts regarding passion. I hope you will take the time to visit Tess and Sunrise Sister.

Gabrielle in her comments referred to my Lenten prayer where I wrote “That is my work, my joy, and…my Lenten prayer (my Life prayer)—to be fighting with and on behalf of truth and beauty for myself and others. Seeking the beauty and glory that we may not be able to see in ourselves. Fighting the battle alongside each other. While I know we must do it for ourselves, we do not have to do it alone. We can travel this path together—learning from one another.”

Thank you to those who are willing to join me on this path and share your passions and fears with Lucy. Together we can participate in glory, experiencing “the greatest thrill one can have on this earth.”

Here’s to a glorious and passion-filled weekend.

photo by bill hughlett

One of those Days

Do you every have those days where you are out of sorts for no good reason? Today appears to be one of those days for me. I have felt a little sluggish all week and the Seattle weather has been true to its advertised nature—rainy, gray and too cold for June. I pondered as to whether or not I might have seasonal affective disorder or maybe I am hitting a middle-aged something. I completed my morning pages thinking an answer might pop out in the writing. I considered listening to favorite music, going back to sleep, meditating more with God, but you know what? Today just feels like one of those days that Lucy would pull the football out from underneath Charlie Brown and smile when he falls. It’s certainly not a favorite side of my disposition and in reality I think I would have more restraint than to deliberately cause another harm. My psychoanalytical brain really wants to get to the root of what may be going on, however, Lucy kind of wants to grovel in her grumpiness for awhile and let the gray clouds do their thing.

How about you? Ever have one of those days?

Space for God

Sometimes I am overcome by the blessings that abound in my life. I am privileged to be part of a transformative process for others and in the process am continually renewed and transformed myself. Last week, I spent time in West Texas at a ranch some would call barren and desolate. I would call it anything but that.

I wish I were a poet so I could describe all the wonder around me; like the army of minuscule ants streaming up and down the porch pole; the small bird so confident, swaying and speaking from the top of a cottonwood tree; the soft brown bunnies frolicking in the grass; the paintbrush of color spread across the field—shades of red, maroon, violet that I cannot describe mixed with layers of yellow and golden wildflowers; the occasional fuchsia petals looking like purple round porcupines perched on top of gentle stems so inviting yet hiding the tiniest barbs to protect their lovely necks; the buzzing flies and biting mosquitoes, while not my favorite, also have their place.

The gentle breeze touches my skin—Yahweh speaks; clouds so light they look like feathers; a bobwhite calls in the distance. The earth sways with the voice of God, so soft and tender this morning in stark contrast to the majesty and power of the booming thunder and brilliant light show witnessed the night before. The pounding rain turning the red dirt into clay ready for the potter to mold.

My heart cries, “Mold me. Shape me. Wash over me. Cleanse me. Make me pure of heart and gentle like the breeze; strong as the storm yet pliable as the clay. Meet me here, oh God.”

The gentle wind responds, “I am here. Give me space, and time will cease to exist.”

The grass blows in the breeze like stalks of wheat ready for harvest. The grape vines are gone, left in their place a pathway of tiny white flowers. The earth continues. Nature finds its path, its rhythm. The breath of life. The voice of God.

What if with every breath we call God’s name? My heart is here giving God space. God--the ultimate poet. Romantic. The scribe of the world. Magnificent artist. Ultimate in glory. Amen.

Passionate Loess

“Don’t ask yourself what the world needs. Ask yourself what makes you come alive, and go do that, because what the world needs is people who have come alive.” --Howard Thurman

Have you ever watched a grown man turn into an excited little boy right before your eyes? Or witness a woman so filled with energy that she glows like a kid at the circus? Those transformational moments are Passion—with a capital P. They are life-giving not only for the participant, but also for the lucky bystanders.

We can find passion in the most ordinary of things. I can only imagine the delight and playfulness that God has for creation. Saturday, I had the pleasure of witnessing a man share his passion. Kevin Pogue is a professor of geology (among other things) at Whitman College in Walla Walla and this past weekend led a tour of the wine country land around the area.

While I enjoy a nice glass of wine, I am certainly no connoisseur; and, although I love digging in my garden, I distinctly remember being bored to death in my freshman geology class (Rocks with Ross) at Oklahoma State University. Saturday, however, the earth came alive and took on new dimensions as we stood in the hot Eastern Washington sun mesmerized by our tour guide.

We learned about basalt and loess (a fancy word for dirt) and the Walla Walla valley’s alluvial fan (a term I kind of remembered from geology class). We heard how finer grapes are produced when the root has to struggle for water. We were wowed by a vineyard planted in 30 feet deep river rock with flourishing rose bush sentries guarding each row.

All of those things were delightfully captivating and upon reflection I wondered how that happened to be. Now it could be that I have matured and my attention span increased since my freshman geology class over 30 years ago. Possibly it is because I have significantly more interest in the earth and creation that surrounds me every day. While both observations are probably true, I would have to say the magic of the day came in watching and listening to someone do what they truly love. Think about this, he was talking about DIRT for goodness sake.

Nevertheless, when he stood on the side of a small “Grand Canyon,” warned us to steer clear of the rim that has been known to “spontaneously disintegrate” and then said, “what the heck” and charged off the side of the cliff, he became a young spirit romping through the tall, probably rattlesnake-infested grass to show us what he wanted to communicate. While we gasped from our safe viewpoint and muttered, “Oh, I wish he hadn’t done that,” the earth transformed from just dirt and the man transformed from a middle-aged person into a passionate being that made even the most inert of objects (rocks and dirt) become exciting and interesting. It was truly a gift to behold and experience. Now that is Passion!

Oh, that we could all find what makes us come alive. Tell me. What is your passion? Do you know?

photos by bill hughlett (another man sharing his passion!)

For My Son

"What lies behind us and what lies before us are tiny matters compared to what lies within us." --Ralph Waldo Emerson

This post is in honor of my beautiful boy who turns 18 tomorrow.