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

Presence

Be present to others and yourself.
In that way you honor Me.

photo by bill hughlett

Blessed Comfort

"Blessed are they that mourn for they shall be comforted." Matthew 5:4

Grace. In her book, Gift from the Sea, Anne Morrow Lindbergh speaks of being aware of times in our lives when we seem to be "in grace" and other periods when we feel "out of grace." "In the first condition, one seems to carry all one's tasks before one lightly, as if borne along on a great tide; and in the opposite state one can hardly tie a shoe-string."

Today I tied my shoe-strings a little easier with the help of those who surround me: God, friends and family, both near and far. These words greeted me in my morning reading: "the mourners are called blessed not because mourning is good, but because they shall be comforted." By sharing my grief and sorrow, I have allowed those around me to bring me comfort. It has come in the form of blog messages, phone calls and inspired readings. It has come from me, too, as I have allowed myself to be still and listen to my own rhythm for a few days.

Grace. How often we believe we must give grace to everyone except ourselves. Thank you for the grace and comfort you show me. How will you show yourself grace today...tomorrow?

Finally, I would like to share a poem sent to me by my friend across the ocean, Tess.

Poor human race that must
Feed on pain, or choose another dish
And hunger worse.

There is also a cup of pain, for
You to drink all up, or,
Setting it aside for a sweeter drink,
Thirst evermore.

I am thy friend. I wish
You to sup full of the dish
I give you and the drink,
And so to fatness come more than you think
In health of opened heart, and know peace.

Grief spake these words to me in a dream. I thought
He spoke no more than grace allowed
And no less than truth.

by Stevie Smith

Breathing is Hard Today

Breathing is hard today. For several days I have been plagued with a horrible cold and have not felt my usual self. I wish I could breathe deeply, but I cannot. Longing for breath consumes my days. I went out for air and sunshine and a milkshake yesterday. The milkshake machine was broken. I drove to the beach but could not make myself pull over and park. I stopped for a Diet Coke and bought Cracker Jacks when I really wanted Crunch n Munch. Desires that seem so simple and inconsequential become heaps of angst. “The ground is always littered with our longings.”

I am grieving and I don’t even realize it. My friend Dawn has died. She is younger than I. My son feels abandoned and I cannot rescue him. My health feels crummy. My house needs cleaning. My daughter is 14. My world feels numb and since writing my Lenten prayer, I’m not sure I have given myself fully to anyone. “The ground is always littered with our longings.”

Longing for connection. Longing for wholeness. Searching too hard. Can I just be? Just rest and be me? What am I doing? Searching. Looking. Asking. Seeking. Flat dull spaces block my path. And then I hear my own words, “Let us not move too quickly to the Good News and thus dismiss our pain and sorrow.” Can I sit in the sorrow for a while? Will I allow myself to be present for myself? For my losses?

Death and dying. New birth. New life. Breath seems so important. My mind is muddled. The rhythm of life speaks to me. The pendulum. The ground littered with our longings. The question is how to remain faithful to all the necessary deaths while leaving room for resurrection. The only way to get through grief is to grieve. The only way to take in fresh air is to breathe. Breathing is hard today.

"I write to discover what I know." Flannery O'Connor (& me)

photo by bill hughlett