Vessels, Empty Space & Advent

Yesterday was a day filled with shadows and vessels. It is raining here in Seattle (no surprise there.) My living room is still filled with furniture from the basement and contractors go in and out of my house. A list sits patiently by my computer, but I did not want to go anywhere yesterday…no driving, no errands, no last minute Christmas duties. And so I stayed in for the day and made a collage. The topic: vessels. I asked myself “why vessels?” several times throughout the process.

What do vessels represent to me? Holding. A bowl. A womb. Cupped hands. A shell. A box. A gift. A decanter. The arms of God. Safety. Confinement. Cups & glasses. Crystal. Pottery. Earthenware. More questions: What am I trying to hold? What do I need to let go of? What does advent really mean?

Finally in the evening, I visited Back Road Journey and read these words:

“This gift (empty space) takes me down a path I may not have chosen otherwise: emptiness, brokenness, darkness, without-ness. The invitation is there, I have only to cross the threshold. And I am discovering that there are layers to this threshold, layers of emptiness and brokenness to live through. Perhaps this is what John the Baptist spoke of when he said, “Prepare the way.” What if prepare isn’t about pulling out all the Christmas boxes from the attic or basement in order to get the house just right or about baking up a storm but rather it’s about emptying, being without, getting rid of, all in order to make room? Could it be that it’s in the empty spaces and brokenness where there’s room for Emmanuel to be born?”

Something shifted in me as I read her words and I began to see the connection between vessels, empty space and advent. Preparing the way. Smoothing the vessel. Making room. Letting go. And this morning these words continued the journey. What edges need to be sheared away? Rough places chipped off to make space for God? For forgiveness and holiness. Grace & mercy. Filled up only to be emptied again and again. Opening the door to my own dark places. Seeing the images that still lie in shadow. There is much to consider in this time of waiting.

In closing, I will share one last thing (although another post is already brewing.) Here are words from Jan L. Richardson’s, Night Visions. They have been working on me for nearly a week since I read them. (Not surprisingly, they also were perfectly printed at the end of Redbarn’s post ☺ .) What places may still yearn to be hollowed out for you?

You hollow us out, God,
so that we may carry you,
and you endlessly fill us
only to be emptied again.

Make smooth our inward spaces
and sturdy,
that we may hold you
with less resistance
and bear you
with deeper grace.

collage by lucy

A is for Anniversary

While doing a little writing this morning, I decided to see what I was up to at this time last year. I came across this fun game and decided it was worth posting again this year. I loved looking at my list and realized it still holds true for me today. Have fun reading and I hope you might decide to take a break from whatever you are doing and play a little!!

This is a fun little game I discovered at Christine's Blog who originally found it at Cathy’s blog. (I don’t happen to know Cathy, however, we are now connected through this letter game and if I had the letter, C, I would add the word Connection, Christine and now Cathy.) Many who played the game said it was harder than you think. I imagined it would be hard to come up with 10, however, my brain switched into high gear and I had a list of about 45 “A’s” before I told myself to slow down and pick 10. So here goes.

1. Christine gave me the letter A for Awakening, so I shall start there. Awakening my creative spirit, awakening to each new day and experience, awakening to life around me. These are most definitely things I love!

2. Advent season has been an amazing time of waiting and discovery for me this year. Great expectation for the celebration of the birth of Jesus and anticipation of what new birth is happening in my life.

3. Aging. I wavered a bit on whether or not I truly love aging. It is one of those love/hate dilemmas, however, aging has provided me with a new perspective and a new zest for life that I did not have in my younger years. It provides a preciousness to each new day and each new year. I turned 50 on September 11 of this year, so hurray for Aging!!

4. Asking questions and seeking answers. I love this, particularly done in community or in my quiet time with the Lord. The beauty is that there are no pat answers and half the fun comes in the asking and seeking.

5. I love Angels! Doesn’t everyone?? I think one of the things I imagine and envy most about angels is their wings. I love the possibility that they can fly which leads me to #6 and….

6. Airplanes. Airplanes take me to far away places for adventure and reunion with friends. My favorite airplane was the tiny one that I jumped out of and flew through the air myself. The air was buoyant and felt like the hands of God gently holding me in my downward flight. It was…

7. Amazing! Life just gets more and more amazing to me. There are new adventures each day, new awakenings, new people, places and things to discover. Truly Amazing!!

8. I could not finish a list of things I love with out including at least one author, because books are one of my very favorite things. I choose Anne Lamott to grace this list. I love her irreverent reverence and her advice from Bird by Bird that if you want to be a writer, “Write!!” These are words that get me going when I often wonder where my writing will lead. Just write!

9. As with authors, the list would not be complete without mentioning a few places since I love adventure and travel. I love Asheville, NC. I have had dreams of moving there and becoming an artist full time. Arizona is wonderful with its beautiful deserts and warm dry climate. Alaska must be fabulous because it produced my dear friend, Maria, and Africa birthed my wonderful husband, Bill—both are places I hope to visit in this lifetime. (Australia is also on my very short list of places that I love before ever having been there.)

10. Since this list of gratitude and love could go on and on, I will end with Abundance and Amen!!

Thank you, Christine and Cathy. If anyone else would like to play, send me a note and I will send you a letter. Blessings and Abundance to you during this Amazing season of Advent. Amen.

photo by h3images

Advent Journey Continues

So, what do you do when you have too many words, thoughts and events running through your head that it would take pages and pages to even begin? I realized this morning that when that happens to me often a poem will pop out. Advent continues to be an amazing journey for me. I have been very nearly overwhelmed by the thoughtful and thought-provoking responses I have received on my last few posts. I am blessed by each of you in ways you likely cannot imagine. I am grateful. I am humbled. I am pondering.

This graphic is a collage card I made last week at an evening workshop. I am still unraveling what this art has to say to me. The poem is one of a continuing journey; weaving times, places, people, & events in and out. It seems appropriate to preface it with these words of Ronald Rolheiser, given to me in a post comment from Gabrielle.

"Advent should not be confused with Lent. The crimson-purple of Advent is not the black-purple of Lent. The former symbolizes yearning and longing, the latter repentence. The spirituality of Advent is about carrying tension without prematurely resolving it so that we do not short-circuit the fullness that comes from respecting love's rhythms. Only when there is enough heat will there be unity. To give birth to what's divine requires the slow patience of gestation."

she is most interesting to me
gazing at me through pools of brown
lovely eyes aglow
do not be afraid
it is a time of shedding & rebirth
an awakening
creative & colossal
shining in the shadows
hidden light revealed
ancient wisdom in 5 year old eyes
persistent
alert
vigorous
vigilant
vibrant & watchful

she is most interesting to me
poppies in hand
serpent looming
loving
entwined with god
one god
lives rippling outward in time
embracing the whole
the beloved
ancestors dance the bridge between day & night
angels float in shadow bright
golden shimmering
shadows joining light

she is most interesting to me
crown donned with flowers white
lucy of the light
patron saint of blind
mother earth
rebirth & new life
speak of shadows feared
step into them & see
they are filled with light
shadowy brilliance
yearning
longing
advent
waiting
pausing
reflecting
sorting through life

yes, she is most interesting to me

Preparing Space. Letting Go. Shedding.

“Why is there so much Lent in Advent? In this season of joy, why do I bump up against my wounds? The wise ones who journey with me remind me that there are cycles of shedding before there is conception, that birthing is painful and messy and loud, and that we find it so hard to let go, to open so that new life can emerge.” Jan L. Richardson, Night Visions

Preparing a space. Letting go. Shedding. Before me lies a table full of photos of a young girl. Me. I see my 2nd birthday; my fifth; another one or two. I think I look dorky. Sullen. Goofy. I think I look brilliant. Wise and beautiful. God’s perfect creation. One in need of constant shedding and letting go.

It is time to start letting go of resentments toward the imperfections of my childhood. I know that I was cared for although not always well. My parents were, after all, human—just like me. I was clothed in handmade creations. Were they made out of love or necessity or possibly both? At age eight, I fell off my bicycle and broke my front teeth and split my lip so badly that it would droop for several years until my mother took me for plastic surgery. Ironically, I appear to be most proud of my school picture taken after my teeth were broken for it is the only picture that bears my signature. The pictures are tiny and could easily have been lost over the years. I am grateful to see my young handwriting testifying to the spunk I had even in my brokenness.

I am grateful for the table full of pictures that I did not think existed. They show me that someone saw to it that my life was documented—perfectly & imprecisely. The school photos. A few snapshots. The glamour girl with my sixties “fall” (i.e. fake hair). A new bike at Christmas. The dangerous sled ride being pulled behind a mini-bike by my father. The trip to Niagara Falls that I wasn’t quite sure we had taken. My dad’s semi-truck. Skipper the dog. My cousin, Vicki who snuck olives from the table with me. My sophisticated sister and my skinny brother before he grew into his ears ☺. Mother holding me on the day I was born.

These photos are helping me shed that which I no longer need. They are marking the time to let love back in. My mother was a woman filled with imperfection. My father was often absent for long periods of time. Together, however, they raised three amazing children. “Good genes,” we’ve always said. “Good hearts” is probably more like it. This, of course, makes me think of my own children. May they grow up well in spite of me AND because of me. I love them the best I can…just as my parents loved me. Yes, it is a time of preparing space. Letting Go. Shedding. It is the time of Advent.

photo: Mom & Me

Everlasting Love

Many of my fondest childhood memories revolve around the time I was in kindergarten. Those memories hold images of skipping and playing and having the freedom to just be Me. That age (around 5 years old) has also been a place in time where it feels like things shifted for me. Kindergarten was a time of living fully in my true self as a little person and also the time that I became aware of the heaviness and darkness that exists in the world. (The entering of paradox, perhaps?)

My most joyous memories come from being in Mrs. Peck’s kindergarten class. It was a private little house just around the corner from my home. I remember the independence of being free to skip around the block on my way to school. To this very day, I can sense the embrace of Mrs. Peck when I hug women who feel like her. Her whole being resonated unconditional love.

Yesterday as I was sorting through some photographs, I came across a cherished picture of me with my beloved teacher. I remembered the photo and was delighted to find it again. The bonus of the day, however, was a letter in her handwriting which I do not ever recall reading before. The envelope had my name on it and said, “Kindergarten Report 1961-62.” While I could regale you with tales of my brilliance at this young age (and there is no doubt I was brilliant ☺), I was most struck by this paragraph.

“It has been most gratifying to watch her development. She is a sweet child and one any parent could be proud of and I know you are. Yes, she is quite right I do love her and it has been such a pleasure to have her in our class. She is most interesting to me.”

Obviously I had picked up on her love for me and shared it with my mother (with great emphasis no doubt.) I have always known deep in my heart that she loved me, but also questioned if I had built it up in my imagination. What a gift to find these words of confirmation almost 50 years after they were penned (for she had not only written them, but also underlined her words of love)! This is a huge affirmation of the power of unconditional love for it has sustained me in ways I cannot begin to fathom. I believe Mrs. Peck is a lovely example of Christ's incarnational love.

The timing, of course, could not be more appropriate. During this season of Advent that emphasizes the importance of waiting, I often ask, “Waiting for what?” An obvious answer is we wait for Christmas; for Christ’s coming. But I believe it is more than that for God is always with us as reminded by the name Emmanuel (translated - God with us) and evidenced through people such as Mrs. Peck. Most often we have no idea for what we are waiting. Little did I know that I was waiting to receive this confirmation of love that had marked my heart with indelible ink.

For what are you waiting this season of advent? Will you allow yourself to rest in the mystery?

photos: Mrs. Peck & me...circa 1961-62