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

Lucy--An Other's Perspective

I am feeling a bit playful this morning (even though still in bed with a really crummy cold) and felt like lightening things up a bit as heavier thoughts have been the topic for the last few days. So I have decided to share the insights of other people in my life (still being about me, of course, since this is my blog.) Here are some diamonds from others and a few glimpses of Lucy from another perspective.

This photo was sent to me by my sailing friends of the Georgia J.

I received this poem earlier in the week from my friend, Molly. I am honored and humbled to see myself through this woman's eyes.

Lucy is deep and vast like a river
That flows to the ocean – a blessing, a giver
It takes all her heart, you can see in her eyes
To integrate, not compartmentalize
This woman is brave, she will bare heart and soul
So that we can learn to be healthy and whole
And it’s her struggle too, and we love her so much
She walks beside us, companion, not crutch
In her willing exposure of laughter and pain
We see that this journey will not be in vain
Encouraged by Lucy, we’ll walk near or far
To enjoy the gift of God’s shining star.

And, finally a quiz result about my "intelligence." I found the link at my friend, Antony's blog. You should be able to click on the link below and take your own quiz.

Your Dominant Intelligence is Linguistic Intelligence

You are excellent with words and language. You explain yourself well. An elegant speaker, you can converse well with anyone on the fly. You are also good at remembering information and convincing someone of your point of view. A master of creative phrasing and unique words, you enjoy expanding your vocabulary. You would make a fantastic poet, journalist, writer, teacher, lawyer, politician, or translator.

What Kind of Intelligence Do You Have?

Cheers to you! I'm off to make some Chicken Soup.

Doubt and the Bible

Today while reading Tess' post on scripture, I was reminded of my own struggling with the Bible and how to personally reconcile what I believe to be God-inspired and the inerrent truth and that which is potentially the product of man's interpretation.

It was in graduate school that I was first introduced to the concept of hermeneutics. Much discussion was made of our personal hermeneutic and what we bring to the text as well as historical considerations, context, etc. In my religious upbringing I always considered that others had studied this before me and they, therefore, knew the "right" interpretation of what I was reading. There was little room for doubt or opinions that differed from the "correct" interpretation.

I remember in graduate school, however, becoming more brave and writing a paper on one of the gospel stories while really listening to my heart and bringing my own interpretation to the text. The grader was a bit taken aback with his more traditional view as I had stepped out of the box. He actually commented that I seemed to value my own opinion over that of the Gospel writer. While i certainly did not profess my interpretation to be the "right" one, I do believe it could be considered at least a possibility--particularly for me in that moment. Who's to say that one man (or woman's) interpretation is more correct than another's?

Today after reading Tess' post, I listened to a podcast with historian Jennifer Michael Hecht on her book, "Doubt: A History." She had some great comments on how doubt has actually shaped much of the great religions. I particularly like this quote from social reformer Elizabeth Cady Stanton:

"When I first heard from the lips of Lucretia Mott that I had the same right to think for myself that Luther, Calvin and John Knox had, and the same right to be guided by my own convictions and would no doubt live a higher, happier life than if guided by theirs, I felt at once a newborn sense of dignity and freedom. It was like suddenly coming into the rays of the noonday sun after wandering with a rushlight in the caves of the earth."

This quote gave me hope that it is okay to question the Bible while still holding it at the center and core of my spiritual beliefs. I believe God does want us to live with a sense of "dignity and freedom" rather than oppression and fear. Questions of doubt are often extremely hard to discuss with Christian friends because there seems to be so much fear around questioning and doubting that every bit of the Bible is not "literal." Is it possible that God inspires us (you and me) today just as he inspired the Old Testament prophets and the New Testament writers? What if the Bible is fluid and not stagnant? Can it be the ultimate Truth without being rigid and unforgiving?

It's a bit scary to throw these questions out there, but they seem so important to me right now. Maybe it's the season of Lent and further reflection. Who knows, but I hope you will join me in the conversation.

"Somerset Cross" photo by bill hughlett