Leap of Faith

The earth is indeed lovely, I realized.

And so I decided to take a leap of faith. Life is, after all, a series of leaps of faith. Falling in love and believing that I will grow old with my husband is a leap. Losing a parent and believing that I will recover is a leap. Giving birth to children and letting go as they grow, hoping they will lead safe, happy lives is a leap. Living in a world of chaos, believing good will prevail over evil, is a leap.

Maybe I could hold God's hand as I leaped. --Priscilla Warner of "The Faith Club"

Remembrance toward Freedom

Why is it such a challenge to be the people we are created to be? It is my belief that we each innately hold the knowledge and truth of who we are deep inside our hearts. It is always there whispering to us what we know to be true. Often, however, the whisper needs prompting to move the truth out of storage and toward remembrance and life.

We are well aware when the truth shows up. It is the moment our heart sings with recognition—a smell, a sight, a voice. You know you are home. You know you are safe. There is intimacy in memory. It sustains us and nurtures us here and now so we can remain rooted in the midst of this crazy life. It is memory of Christ. Memory of home—the truth of our very being. The knowing that we are whole and pure.

We spend so much time wallowing in the mud and muck of life. The truth, however, remains rooted inside us like an everlasting friend whose voice is always a welcome sound. It is a song for your heart beckoning you to remember who you are. To walk daily in freedom, we must remember our past stories of both tragedy and redemption, we must dream of future hopes, and we must choose to love God, our neighbors and ourselves in the present moment.

We are anchored in Christ—through humanity—through the magnificence of the universe. There is a great knowing of something that we can’t quite seem to remember yet know is ancient, everlasting and true. This knowing holds me above the waves of life, buoyant as a bird in flight, cradled in the embrace of a friend.

It is my desire to remember the anchors of my life. The smells, the tastes, the sounds and sights that draw each of us toward becoming the people we are created to be. It is through remembrance that we can walk in freedom.

photo by bill hughlett

Yield to Simplicity

Ponderings of today. Simplicity is the word that is speaking to me during this season of Lent. I believe simplicity draws us closer to God. Simplicity and humility. Not pomp and circumstance. God is not interested in a popularity contest. He does not need everyone to acknowledge Him--to cheer him on. Jesus did things in obscurity and subtlely--often striving to remove himself from the crowds and seeking quiet time with God.

The world seems to think that in order to be successful, everything must be bigger and better. Giant churches. Huge projects. Best-selling books. The list goes on. What is big enough? What would it look like to reach people simply--one by one--heart by heart? Quietly and subtlely coming alongside and joining fellow sojourners as they come to know God and themselves in big, quiet ways.

I think I'll close here with this poem found at Milton's site.

I Feel Sorry for Jesus

People won’t leave him alone.
I know He said, wherever two or more
are gathered in my name . . .
but I’ll bet some days He regrets it.

Cozily they tell you what He wants
and doesn’t want
as if they just got an e-mail.
Remember “Telephone,” that pass-it-on game

where the message changed dramatically
by the time it rounded the circle?
Well.
People blame terrible pieties on Jesus.

They want to be his special pet.
Jesus deserves better.
I think He’s been exhausted
for a very long time.

He went into the desert, friends.
He didn’t go into the pomp.
He didn’t go into
the golden chandeliers

and say, "the truth tastes better here."
See? I’m talking like I know.
It’s dangerous talking for Jesus.
You get carried away almost immediately.

I stood in the spot where He was born.
I closed my eyes where He died and didn’t die.
Every twist of the Via Dolorosa
was written on my skin.

And that makes me feel like being silent
for Him, you know? A secret pouch
of listening. You won’t hear me
mention this again.

-- Naomi Shihab Nye

photo by bill hughlett

God's Ways

Count yourselves blessed every time people put you down or throw you out or speak lies about you to discredit Me. What it means is that the truth is too close for comfort and they are uncomfortable. You can be glad when that happens—give a cheer, even!—for though they don't like it, I do! And all heaven applauds.
Matthew 5:11-12 from "The Message"

I wrote a word of Peace.
The reader said, "Too pat."

I spoke a word of Rest.
The hearer said, "No way."

I read a word of Grace.
My heart said, "I believe."

God's ways are not our ways. They are hard to believe with a "rational" mind. They are impossible to hear with a worldly ear. They are indisputable when received in the heart.

Grief--Emotion or Stalker??

The grief is up already. It is an early riser, waiting with its gummy arms wrapped around my neck, its hot, sour breath in my ear. Now it follows me down the hall to the bathroom, tapping my shoulder the whole way.
Try to pick up your toothbrush, it says.

--Lolly Winston