Now We Wait...

No!

We breathe.

We pulse.

We regenerate.

Our hearts beat.

Our minds create.

Our souls ingest.

37 seconds, well used, is a lifetime.

(Mr. Magorium's Wonder Emporium)

Sharing the Love

I've had a tendency lately to post great resources to my facebook wall, without sharing them here where they could be accessed more permanently:

Invitation Into The Contemplative

Tools for Prayer

Review: At the Still Point

And lastly, a personal observation:
Love, Grace, Hospitality, Holy listening: the threads that tie my passions together. I’m recognizing this more & more, and learning that they have to be rooted in rest and trust, in confidence and not in control.

The Last Word Shall Be First

Speak, Lord
Your servant
Listens

Bare feet
Bent knee
Before burning bush

All-consuming fire
Billows flames
That do not consume

But slough away
Layers of flesh
And lust and pride

Until all that remains
Is the inner core
Who I was created to be

Speak, Lord
Your servant
Listens

Burrowed in cave
Eyes squinting
Toward light

Ear bent
To air
To ground

Hanging on
Every clash
And bang

Attentive
To every
Turn of the wind

Speak, Lord
Your servant
Listens

In the silence
Echoing whispers
Through canyon

Come out
And let yourself
Be unbound

Sit
And eat
This bread

Rest
And drink
This wine

Speak, Lord
Your servant
Listens

Abide in the Word
And Wisdom
Will abide in you

Wait
And once I waited
I hadn’t to wait for long

Now I wait
Wait
Wait with the patience of Job

Be sill
and know
I Am

Speak, Lord
Your servant
Listens

Even though
The rooted tree
Doesn’t blossom

Even though
The clinging vine
Bears no fruit

Even though
The tended crop
Fails to grow

Yet I will rejoice
Yet I will trust
Yet I will listen

Speak, Lord
Your servant
Listens

Incline your ear
Come near to me
Hear

I am thirsty
I am hungry
I am poor

My thoughts
Are not your thoughts
Neither my ways your ways

You are everlasting
I am
But a breath

Speak, Lord
Your servant
Listens

Yet you formed me
You knew me
You know me

You said
I will
Be with you

When you pass
Through
The fire

Be now my refuge
In the midst
Of doubt

Speak, Lord
Your servant
Listens

Still
Small
Voice

It
Is
Finished

Come
Have
Breakfast

All
Will be
Well

Listen & Love

There are moments in life where I have to catch my breath from the sly & subtle way God’s Spirit works among the Body of Christ. Last night, I was privileged to moderate the second of three summer conversations (and, of course, potlucks) on family discipleship at R Street Community Church, my local faith community, our own little corner of the catholic Church.

Both of the gatherings we have had were significant times of coming together, of breaking bread and sharing hearts, of nourishing foods and nurturing words, and humor, sarcasm, messy realness and lightened loads. Each gathering has called us deeper into community, into each other’s lives, into a practice of relationship building that is simply not possible during a few hours on Sunday morning.

Both of the gatherings were unique. While the first gathering was packed with preschool parents and little ones in tiny chairs abandoning plates of food for playtime with friends, many of those families were unable to attend last night. Their presence was certainly missed, but in their place appeared families who had not made the first gathering, families of older children and emerging youth, families who were interested in investing in relationships with these pre-teens and teenagers. I could not have planned it better if I had tried to control the guest lists, tried to map out a strategy.

Both of the gatherings were similar, as well. What came out of both, and of our times huddled in the kitchen, gathered around the dining table, curled up on living room furniture, is an understanding of the deep significance of moments like these – moments of relationship. The greatest desire expressed for our preschool and younger school-age children was that they would build significant relationships with each other, with adults in the church, with their families – that they would feel themselves to be (that they would be) a vital part of the fabric of community. The greatest desire expressed for our youth, our pre-teens and our teenagers, was the same. We want them to seek together, to create together, to serve together, to learn & grow together. And overarching those desires was an understanding that we must model those relationships – we have to be intertwined in each other’s lives, not as busy-bodies, as community. Certainly stories will be shared, topics will be taught and lessons will be learned – but it is the relationships and the conversation that make those lessons significant and that invite all ages to share insights and ask questions.

As we opened the second conversation, I shared a passage from The Art of Christian Listening by Thomas N. Hart as a form of prayer, and I’ll share it again here. I think if we can soak in the significance of listening & loving to others, we can begin to grasp a little more the simplicity and significance of those great commandments to love God & love others:

A helper is, in the first instance, one who agrees to listen. Anything else that may happen in the relationship will derive from this. Listening to another may not seem like much, but its effect happens to be very therapeutic. Everyone yearns to be heard. But so many cannot find anyone who will listen, or do not trust most people to be able to handle what they really need to say. So they come to you.

Listening is not always easy. It takes time, and the time might be inconvenient besides. It demands really being for the other during that period, fully present and attentive, one’s own needs and concerns set aside. This is exciting. Listening might mean being afflicted with the most profound sense of helplessness, having the springs of sorrow touched, seeing one’s dearest convictions called painfully into question by the experience and testimony of another. The person may not be attractive, might be telling a dull and too oft repeated tale, might be making mountains out of molehills, might be demanding and even manipulative. These are the hazards. Nevertheless there comes to me a human being whom God created and loves. There comes a sister or brother for whom Christ died (Rm 14:15). There enters a suffering fellow pilgrim. The first thing one consents to do is to welcome and listen. It is an act of love…

The helper does not always solve the problem or take the pain away. But he or she is friend and resource, to explore with another, to watch another with concern, to listen and respond, to be available…

To listen attentively to another and to go with another in companionship are expressions of love. To do either without love is an empty gesture and bears no fruit. The helper loves the other. Now there is no greater thing we can do for another human being than to love him or her. We touch here a truth just large enough to be easily overlooked. I am supposed to be a Christian helper, so I snap to attention. I put on a hat. I will be a sterling model of the Christian life, a shrewd analyst, an expert advisor. I will also develop a pep talk. These things have their place, but to put them first is to mistake the lesser for the greater. The most helpful thing one human being can do for another is to love him or her, and this is as valid for helping relationships as for any other kind.

Word, Spirit, Community, Fruit

“Where you go I will go, and where you stay I will stay. Your people will be my people and your God my God.” ~ Ruth

Last night I enjoyed a lovely dinner with friends: food, hospitality, laughter, listening, communion and confession. Somewhere amidst our discussion of the stability of spiritual disciplines versus the chaos of spiritual emotions, I was reminded that this Sunday the Church will celebrate the feast of Pentecost.

Whereas the season of Advent ushers in the celebration of Christmas, and the season of Lent ushers in the celebration of Easter, the celebration of Pentecost leads us into the season of Ordinary Time.

Ordinary Time certainly isn’t the sexiest season in the liturgical calendar. Rather than building up to a great experience (such as the birth or resurrection of Christ), it flows from an experience and permeates our everyday lives. It calls us not to a magical crescendo, but invites us into a deep, daily observance of abiding in Christ and community.

As we shared stories and struggles and relaxed from our meal, I briefly related to my friends that this upcoming liturgical season has grown very important to me over the past several years, and I dare say it has become my favorite.

The Christian observance of Pentecost is intrinsically linked to the Jewish feast of Shavuot, which started last night at sundown. Shavuot commemorates both the first fruits of the wheat harvest, as well as the word of God given to Moses on Mt. Sinai. It is an opportunity to both enjoy and express thankfulness for God’s provision, as well as a celebration of covenant and community, a celebration of God’s presence coming to dwell among us.

For Christians, Pentecost is the fulfillment of God’s indwelling presence. The Word that was and is and is to come had become flesh and dwelled among us, teaching us what love and grace and forgiveness and mercy look like in practice. Jesus taught us that if we abide in him, God’s spirit will abide in us, and we will bear the fruit of that relationship.

After Christ’s resurrection, the disciples came together to celebrate Shavuot, to enjoy the first fruits together in God’s presence. It was during this observance that the Holy Spirit, the counselor and comforter and presence of God, was poured out upon human hearts, and the community that is the Body of Christ was born. This community was to be the presence of God’s kingdom on earth as in heaven, the embodiment of God’s love, grace, forgiveness and mercy that Christ introduced us to.

And it is in the upcoming season of Ordinary time that we get to focus not on waiting for God to break into time, or on waiting for Christ to redeem the world, but on celebrating the fact that God has come, God has redeemed and is redeeming, and God is present in and through the Body as we dwell in the Spirit and open ourselves to the fruit and the gifts that emerge.

It is in Ordinary time that we get to put into practice what we have learned from the Lord, that we enter into that deep abiding through which our lives bear fruit that blesses others, that we enter into the process of cultivating the soil of our neighbors and communities, of removing the obstacles that keep their lives from being receptive to God’s love.

It is in Ordinary time that we learn to rest in the fact that we are loved.

It is in Ordinary time that we dig our heels into the life of community.

It is in Ordinary time that we learn to practice love.

It is in Ordinary time that we certainly mess up.

It is in Ordinary time that we forgive.

It is in Ordinary time that we live.

This is your life...

"I haven't got anything together and I can stop looking for some hidden door that's going to someday open up to my real, perfect life and I can stop waiting and I can start laughing praise, because this wondrous mess, this is it." ~ Ann Voskamp

Pause.

Sit still.

Take a deep breath.

Who are you, right now?

How do you experience your days?

What are your greatest accomplishments?

Who do you pour your love and energy into?

What brings you the most joy and fulfillment?

This is who you are, right now, in this place and time, laying aside all dreams and expectations.

Embrace that reality and allow it to be enough.

Don’t worry about what tomorrow may bring.

Love someone today, right where you are.

Rest in the knowledge you are loved.

Be present here and now.

Take a deep breath.

Sit still.

Pause.

You do not have to have a grand story of redemption and reconciliation leading to a life of great service.

You do not have to boast of heroic deeds and sacrificial accomplishments.

You do not have to fit into unrealistic societal expectations.

Do not dwell on what you are not, or what you could be, or what you might have been.

Rest in who you are – a dearly loved child of the creator of the universe, summoned with the task to love God back, love his creation (which includes yourself), and love one another.

Rest in the fact that as you wake each day with the purpose of receiving, being and giving love, that your life will continue to grow and change, and that you don’t have to be anxious about where that change is leading.

Rest in the knowledge that God Is.

Rest in God’s grace.

Rest in God.

Rest.

“People always say how you should be yourself. Like yourself is this definite thing, like a toaster or something. Like you know what it is, even. But every so often, I'll have, like, a moment when just being myself, and my life, like, right where I am, is, like, enough.” ~ Angela Chase (My So-Called Life)

bookends

All stories, even the ones we love, must eventually come to an end and when they do, it's only an opportunity for another story to begin. (from Mr. Magorium’s Wonder Emporium)

This past weekend I enjoyed a silent prayer retreat, led by my dear, lovely friend Ines Velasquez-Mcbryde. Ines and I have had many prayer, study and retreat experiences together, and this is the third time I have participated in a silent retreat she has led.

As we were wrapping up the retreat, and reflecting on our time, I started seeing a picture emerge of this retreat being a sort of bookend on a difficult season of my life, a five year period of loss, change, manipulation, confusion, anxiety, grief, anger and bitterness. Not that it was all laid on me at once, but rather it was more of a snowballing effect, and then I was trapped beneath the weight.

Before that period started, before I had any idea what was in store, I was on the first of the three retreats Ines led. We gathered in a cabin (read: small lake mansion) with friends and spent the evening enjoying each other’s company and preparing our hearts for the next day. We awoke in silence, prayer guides in hand, and after breakfast and brief instructions, scattered about the property to commune with God. I thought I would start my morning off inside, and eventually make my way to the porch or the water. I never made it out of the cabin.

At the top of the stairs, I found a utility closet that was clean, carpeted, spacious and bright, with nothing but the dim hum of an air conditioning unit to abide with me. I settled in, quieted my breathing, and decided to begin by listening to some of the scriptures on the first page of the guide. I didn’t get very far before I was gripped by a passage, and I stayed in Psalm 37 so long I was late returning to the group sharing time several hours later: Do not fret. Trust. Dwell. Delight. Commit. Be Still. Wait patiently. Refrain from anger. Hope.

I’m still learning what all of those words mean, but they pierced me then, and they still have a hold of me now. That was a special time of immersion in communion with the Spirit that I go back to often.

It seems that every prayer retreat and every spiritual direction session since that time found me bringing some burning question or deep wound to the table, something I needed answered, healed, explained or fixed. I wrote a few posts back about the forgiveness process I went through in March, and I like to think that because of that experience, this past weekend was able to seal one part of my story and allow another to begin.

I went into this silent retreat filled with peace and joy, and that’s the way I left.

No, I was not delusional that the world around me is still full of hate and destruction and things wildly beyond our control. But the sun was shining, I had no grand expectations, I just came to rest and enjoy, and that’s what I did.

I left with a poem inspired by the rolling breezes in the prayer garden, and a simple hope that perhaps I can put this season of frustration behind me. But even if I’m wrong, yet I will rejoice:

Approaching Winds
Gentle
Yet determined
Pushed through distant forrest
Advancing
To breeze
Through my hair
To graze
My cheek
With a kiss
Light as air

As limb and leaf
In canopy above
Lifted into dancing
Whirling dervishes
Swept into joyful frenzy
Illuminated
By subtle beams

Reminders
That beyond tree
Is sky
Beyond sky
Is universe
And I am but a part

Small
And yet
Wholly significant
Fully known
Deeply loved

By the One who created
Universe
And sky
Tree, limb and leaf
Fed by sun and rain and soil

By the One who created
Climbing vine
And clinging branch
By the One who is
Climbing vine

By the One who invites
Me to cling
To abide
To trust
To dwell

By the One who created
Soft carpets
Of electric green moss
Split open
By twisted roots
Anchoring dancing forrest
To earthly hallows
Even as it longs to soar

To be swept up
In the rhythm
Of the wind
As it moves past
Beyond
Carried further down the path
By the One who created

Me
Out of love
To be love
Out of grace
To be grace
Out of mercy
To be mercy

By the One who forgave
So that I can forgive
Who comforts and heals
So that I can extend healing & comfort
The One who says
Peace
Be still
So that I can be peace
In the midst
Of the chaos
Of life

The wind travels past
And I remain
With the One who created
With the One who was
With the One who is to come
With the One who Is
With the One
And we
Walk on
Together