Filling Holes in Vain

How vainly we try to fill the holes that have been blown wide in our hearts! You, truly, are the only antidote to emptiness. Yet I find myself chasing bubbles. Comfort from these false gods is stretched thin; it betrays in the end, empty as vapor.

May He who filled the universe with swirling galaxies be the one to fill my heart.

Merry Christmas!

I attended a parish out of town for Christmas Mass this morning; it was a big church, old and beautiful, with many seats, yet it was very crowded. I entered the church alone, but once I was within I was surrounded by fellow pilgrims, all come to worship Christ. When the first strains of "O Come, All Ye Faithful" began, I found that I was overcome, so much so that I couldn't join in singing the opening hymn. Tears sprang to my eyes for the glory, the majesty, the sheer awesomeness of it all. Though the magi made their journey to see Him more than two millenia ago, people still gather to marvel at His birth. And who am I that I should be among them? I know not why God has wooed me to Himself. I can only be thankful that His gentle presence was with me from earliest childhood, though I didn't know His name... and that He led me into the waters of baptism as a teen... and that I am here now - amazingly! - as part of His Church. I pray that through His continued grace, I will always seek Him like the magi, and that He will be welcome to make His home in my heart like the humble manger where He lay so many years ago.

Just a Note about the Post Below...

Just after I posted about being adrift, I spent time reading "The Sacrament of the Present Moment" (also known as "Abandonment to Divine Providence") and found a similar analogy used in a positive way. We are encouraged to be at peace while God directs our raft; being in a time of waiting is good. I like that. :)

Lean Not Unto Your Own Understanding

It is good that God does not expect us to understand each nuance of our journey with Him; if he did, I'd be lost. I am in a spiritual "holding dock" right now, moving neither forward nor backward, just waiting to see what God will do next. Perhaps it is like the safe, secure darkness of a womb, with birth pending but unseen. I like that analogy; it's very positive.

It may be my overly busy schedule that is keeping me from "feeling" God as I normally do. Or perhaps it is the calm after a great, stressful storm, and I am allowed to float free on my raft without wind, at least for a time. I am not in the doldrums exactly (pictured at left), but I'm not moving forward either.

But this will pass. Perhaps I just need a spot of rest. For now I will fall back on His wings and let Him fly. I'll relax like a feather in the wind.

Seeing a Gift

Lord, how can I thank you for what you have done?

As I slowly moved into consciousness this morning, God made me aware that a significant prayer request, one that has been on my heart for well over a year, has been answered. It's funny that I didn't see it - at least not completely - till now, though God made it real some days ago.

Sometimes He does big things quietly, in a very humble way, such as when the King of Heaven stepped into our time and space in a stable. We must have faith that He is working in our lives, even when things do not seem to change. Who knows what small, imperceptible things are moving below the surface to be revealed at a later time? My prayer has been answered. Quietly. Beautifully. Perfectly. And for this, gratitude rises in my chest like a sweet, warm tide.

Thank you, Lord, for what you have done.

Doing His Will

I attended a women's retreat many years ago and the speaker said something that has always stuck with me. She advised that if things aren't going well for us spiritually - perhaps we're just not connecting with God - we should look back on the last thing God asked us to do to determine if we've done it. While walking through a spiritually dry or difficult place is not always the result of disobedience, oftentimes it is, and it's good to discern whether that's the root cause of the struggle at hand.

For some time God has been nudging me toward a change that I've been resisting; till now, that is. I was concerned about letting others down and I was clinging to a stubborn hope that things would get better. My lack of action caused me to feel inreasingly distant from my Source. It took a toll on my day-to-day walk with Him - even affecting my faith in some areas - and that was tough! I didn't connect the two, though, until the speaker's advice rose to the forefront of my consciousness. I realized that the spiritual weight I'd been carrying was a direct result of my resistance to His direction. That resistance was rooted in a lack of trust; otherwise, I would have immediately said yes to His request.

I am now breathing a figurative sigh of relief. It's always better to do His will. I feel I've gone from darkness into light, and the air I'm breathing is far fresher on this side!

Unity in Christ

I wish that we could see that Christ is what matters, not the issues that divide and prevent true unity in Him.

"How good and pleasant it is when brothers live together in unity!" Psalm 133:1-3

There is a ministry to which I wish to give my time, talent and treasure, but I've been told that in order to do this, I must sign a statement of faith that is, in part, counter to the doctrines of my Church. We honor the same Creator, believe in the same Christ, are filled with the same Holy Spirit, yet words on a page prevent our working together to love in His name.

I am trying to get my head around all of this.

I know that the Lord is in charge and that brings me peace. If we are not allowed to work together in unity, I can love others in His name all the same. The problem is that there is a big need, and Christians working together can accomplish so much more than when working alone... or, at times, against one another.

I know there are differences in the way our faith is expressed, nuances in our beliefs, and even large differences in our doctrine, but I'm not joining a church; rather, I merely wish to stand alongside other Christians to serve in God's name.

My situation is miniscule in comparison, but I can't help but think of St. Thomas More in The Man for All Seasons. He didn't wish to defy King Henry VIII, but his hand was forced. In the end, his head rolled because he couldn't sign his name to a document that stood against his Church.

I'm happy that I've been able to give much to this ministry already. By God's grace, a significant amount of treasure has flowed into its coffers through the efforts of many within my parish; for that I am grateful. If I am not allowed to serve within its walls, I will continue to refer others to its services from the outside. Even so, I wish that working together for good were more important than our differences.

"May they be brought to complete unity to let the world know that you sent me and have loved them even as you have loved me." John 17:23

"May the God who gives endurance and encouragement give you a spirit of unity among yourselves as you follow Christ Jesus." Romans 15:5

"Make every effort to keep the unity of the Spririt through the bond of peace." Ephesians 4:3

On Growing Weary

May I never forget the real purpose of life.

In the words of Jesus, these are the greatest commandments, "'Love the Lord your God with all your heart and with all your soul and with all your mind.' This is the first and greatest commandment. And the second is like it: 'Love your neighbor as yourself.' All the Law and the Prophets hang on these two commandments." (St. Matthew 22:37-40)

But sometimes we grow weary. St. Paul must've known that the rocks of disappointment, grief and disillusionment weigh us down as we collect them through life. That's why he asks us to remain steadfast in our role as people of good works. "Let us not become weary in doing good," he tells us in Galatians 6:9, "for at the proper time we will reap a harvest if we do not give up." God is with us. Always.

In that spirit, I offer the following poem I found in a tiny corner of cyperspace. I wish I knew the author. It reminds me of a friend's email sign-off: MTPOCDU. I asked him one day what it meant. His answer: May the peace of Christ disturb us.

May God bless you with discomfort
At easy answers, half-truths, and superficial relationships
So that you may live deep within your heart.
May God bless you with anger
At injustice, oppression, and exploitation of people,
So that you may work for justice, freedom and peace.
May God bless you with tears
To shed for those who suffer pain, rejection, hunger and war,
So that you may reach out your hand to comfort them and
To turn their pain into joy.
And may God bless you with enough foolishness
To believe that you can make a difference in the world,
So that you can do what others claim cannot be done
To bring justice and kindness to all our children and the poor.
Amen

Come, Holy Spirit

Tonight is the youth confirmation Mass at my parish; I will leave in a short while. I prepared little gifts for them (a Rosary and some poems) and in anticipation of that I looked for Holy Spirit images on the Internet. What came up astounded me: a plethora of diverse images, mostly doves, that represent the immense power we are given in the Holy Spirit. Just think of it: He dwells within us! What He gives is beyond understanding. May the eleven youth being confirmed tonight be filled with power from on high and may it remain with them always.

Come Holy Spirit, fill the hearts of your faithful; kindle in us the fire of your love.

Lord, Have Mercy

Lord, have mercy on me, a sinner.

Well, I failed a test last night. I didn't live up to what I posted below, graciousness in times of trial and difficulty.

There is something about withstanding trials with dignity that just feels good. God gives peaceful endurance when times are tough, and He doesn't ask us to do ANYTHING for which He doesn't provide strength... if we are willing to receive it and not battle against it.

Like the "Little Engine that Could" (a favorite childhood book), I must believe that there is a top to the mountain with a strength-bolstering downhill side. It will come, and probably sooner than I think.

Lord, I love you. Thank you for every bit of strength you have given; thank you for every bit you will give. Help me to put myself aside and shoulder the burden. I know you are with me. Amen.

This Morning's Office

Here is something I read today in the Divine Office during morning prayer:

"Whoever hates his life in this world keeps it safe for life everlasting."

This was an antiphon from the "Common of One Martyr" and it struck me. (It was read today because we honor John I, Pope and Martyr from the 6th century.)

What does it mean to hate one's life?

What rings true for me now is accepting with humility, grace and dignity unpleasant situations that may come my way. If there is hatred... or judgment... or misunderstanding... or misrepresentation... I must simply bear it. I cannot hold with a tight fist what I wish for others to think of me. I can get lost in the battle to defend my life now... or I can choose to turn my life over to Christ with hope for life everlasting.

Later I read this in the Canticle of Zechariah:

You, my child, shall be called the Prophet of the Most High, for you will go before the Lord to prepare his way, to give his people the knowledge of salvation and the forgiveness of their sins.

I marvelled at the great privilege St. John the Baptist was given... and then realized the privilege came with a great cross to bear as well. He was ostracized and eventually beheaded. Sometimes privileges and hardships go hand in hand. If I follow Christ, am I willing to accept unpleasantries with dignity and humility? Lord, may it be so!

Of Blossoms and Rustling Leaves

Our cherry tree was in bloom several weeks ago; soft, pink blossoms hovered about its branches like a cloud. Despite the pleasure of the sight, I felt a bit sad as I admired them. It seems the blossoms are here so briefly, as though they float away on the breeze as quickly as they arrive. While I thought of this, a quiet voice within asked me to appreciate goodness while it's here and not to mourn its passing. I was reminded that each good-bye brings something new. God's world is full of wonder when we are willing to receive.

* * * * * * *

I sat on the small stone bench outside the church as I waited for noontime Mass. Lost in thought about a particular care, God pointed out to me that my focus was a distraction from the whisper of His voice. Looking up, I saw the leaves on the trees blown by the breeze with their gentle rustling sound. One must be quiet and still to listen and see.

"Be still, and know that I am God." Psalm 46:10

Around Another Corner

Someone I know once said, "Never lose hope, for you don't know what's waiting for you just around the corner." Despite struggles that might tempt others toward depression, she chose to see each day as a new opportunity.

I love seeing things like that, too, though I sometimes forget; that is, until I turn another corner to find a surprise waiting for me. I had a light-hearted surprise a couple weekends ago - I was asked to be part of a contest at a local cooking school. I was a little nervous, but ended up having a blast cooking my entry, chicken mole' using Oregon Chai Tea, which was the sponsor of the contest. (That's me stirring the sauce. ;)

There was a bonus surprise, too: I was asked to consider teaching a class or two there. That was something I didn't expect... and I greatly look forward to it. You see? You never know what's just around the corner. Our Lord loves to surprise us with His goodness that comes in unexpected ways. May your day be full of His love.

Oh, the Divine Mercy of God!

Lord, thank you that your Divine Mercy is with me in all my struggles. Thank you for your words to St. Faustina and, through her, to us. I am grateful for your longing to pour grace on your children.

If it hadn't been for this small imperfection, you wouldn't have come to Me. Know that as often as you come to Me, humbling yourself and asking for My forgiveness, I pour out a superabundance of graces on your soul, and your imperfection vanishs before My eyes, and I see only your love and your humility. you lose nothing but gain much...

A New Layer to the Journey

Well, it's real. After six months of being part of the aspirancy program, I've submitted my application to be considered for formation as a Secular Carmelite. While it's not definite that I'll be accepted, and while there will be two (or three?) years of further formation prior to making a temporary promise, it's another single step along a lifetime journey. I have wondered on occasion if I am an appropriate Carmelite, being the action-oriented extrovert I am (they are a contemplative order), but one thing is certain: I've received many graces through being in the program.

Yesterday two opportunities for grace converged: our monthly day at the monastery and Divine Mercy Sunday. The latter has a special place in my heart: our dear Papa, Pope John Paul II, died on its vigil (which is quite appropriate, considering it was he who canonized St. Faustina, from whom the devotion to the Divine Mercy comes). He was devoted to her message and designated the Sunday following Easter in this way.

I made a confession at the monastery (something that is encouraged on Divine Mercy Sunday) and, miraculously, that allowed me to become detached from a sin that has plagued me. Surely His mercy has been poured out upon me. Repentance is the true makeover.

Today has been one of Holy Spirit tutelage. My spirit unchained, I am able to see things in a new way. Miraculously, my will cooperates and feelings follow. Restless, I look forward to wearing these changes as garments.

I have learned, painfully, that I haven't respected myself as a human creature and child of God. Pursuit of holiness, especially in light of my Carmelite journey, must be taken more seriously than my own needs... or the need to please.

The "Holy Spirit Shop" is the best place to buy new clothes. I have found something that fits well; gratitude is deep.

Thank you, Lord, for your Divine Mercy!

Memories of a Writers' Conference

I had the wonderful privilege of attending a Christian writers' conference over Palm Sunday weekend. That's us (my friend, Louise, and me) with the rest of the folks from one of our afternoon workshops. (I'm fourth from the right in the back row and Louise is fourth from the left in the middle row.) Louise and her husband, Mike, generously sponsored me. It was the 40th such writers' conference at the Mt. Hermon Christian Conference Center near Santa Cruz and folks from all over the world (Africa, Europe, Australia) were in attendance, including some missionaries in from the field. I rubbed shoulders with giants in the world of Christian writing; some had published dozens of books. My favorite class was a two-part workshop on poetry, which was taught by Ethel Herr, a soft spoken and gentle published poet. She selected a wide variety of poems by various authors to read to us. My eyes were opened to the quality and diversity of modern Christian poetry; that in and of itself was a gift, as was listening to the cadence of her reading. I was inspired, encouraged and enthralled throughout the weekend. I learned about editing, developing a mission statement, finding one's personal voice, how to handle controversial issues with grace, communicating to change lives and so much more! I intend to go again next year, Lord willing. To top it all off, this morning I got an idea for a book!

Joy on the Journey

Dear God,

Thank you, just thank you, for your masterpiece, this answer to prayer. I cannot describe my joy. Truly you love your children well.

With love from your daughter who basks in your grace,

Esther

Love and Shame

I ran into a couple of folks I knew from a prior workplace in the pharmacy yesterday. The woman was friendly, but the man could hardly look me in the eye. And I knew why: it was because their relationship caused the break-up of both of their marriages. Three small children no longer have their daddy in the home. Much scandal was brought upon their workplace and families because of their desire to be together. I can see the strain on their faces. There is much loss.

To their surprise, I welcomed them. As recognition dawned in the man that expected judgment was not forthcoming, he relaxed and spoke a bit. I was friendly for one reason: they are beloved children of God. I am shocked by what happened and deeply grieved by the pain caused, but I know that God loves them beyond, more than and despite the choices they've made. Why should I do any less? I myself have been forgiven much.

Before my husband and I were married, he took a job 8 hours away from me. It was difficult to be apart, so we did what seemed natural at the time: I pulled up stakes, got a job there and moved in with him. We were going to be married within the year, so it didn't seem like a big deal to us.* During this time, I was shunned by some members of his family; however, I will never forget the love and acceptance poured upon both of us by his Mormon aunt and uncle. I knew enough about their beliefs to understand that they did not condone our situation; yet they welcomed us into their fold. To this day, I am deeply grateful; in fact, if I didn't disagree with the tenets of their faith, I would have become Mormon all those years ago.

Yesterday as I looked into the faces of those two in the pharmacy line, I could see their struggle with shame. How I long for them to understand the depth of God's love and His sweet, gentle touch! I pray their shame will not keep them from such a loving Father. He scans the horizon for their return.

*Now my understanding is different; I think marriages function much better if they don't start out like that. God's pure way is logical, beautiful and always best.

He Is Always There

Jesus is present in so many ways... in so many places...

...at a writers' conference, fully Evangelical, with its bold, outward proclamation... with its spare, earnest worship.

...at the Carmelite monastery, shrouded in mystery, on a cloud of peace... where your secret call to the soul beckons... with the monks' prayers lifted to you like incense in their censor...

...in a Catholic church, large or small, simple or grand... with its stained glass, flickering candles, and... especially... the holy hush of Your Presence...

...in the springtime buds that make the world quiver with life expressed in perfect green...

...in the flowers thrown madly throughout roadside fields, which shout of You in their purple and orange chorus... juvenile alter egos to Your stately sunset...

...in the sweet eyes of a friend, kind with promise... eager and ready to accept, listen and connect...

Truly, Christ, you are everywhere!

Love Keeps Me Sane

On this path of puzzles, I'll trust the hand of God...

Tonight I opened a can of tomato paste with love and did my best to chop an onion with it, too. This might sound crazy if not for the example of Brother Lawrence, whose words about his journey of love are written in "The Practice of the Presence of God." He was a 17th century lay Carmelite brother who worked at simple tasks in the monastery kitchen. He said, "We can do little things for God; I turn the cake that is frying on the pan for love of him, and that done, if there is nothing else to call me, I prostrate myself in worship before him, who has given me grace to work; afterwards I rise happier than a king. It is enough for me to pick up but a straw from the ground for the love of God."

If I am determined to love despite what may be difficult to bear, Christ (our True Love) is given permission to live through me. To what I wrote in my journal today: "I am taut, like a guitar string, ready to be plucked or to snap," Love says, "I will make you sing." Love seeks to relieve me from worry because it gently shifts my focus from me. So - even if for selfish reasons - I will try to live in love (and always in Love). It is what will keep me sane. A tall order, yes, but for now, for me, the only one that will do.

Could I Be?

A butterfly on wings of hope to comfort in despair...
A white rose, dewy fresh, to show that Heaven cares...
The scent of Christ to all who doubt and need to know He's there...
The foamy sea that rushes in as an answer to a prayer.

Surely God uses each of us at times in different ways
To teach and guide, laugh and cry, messengers that day
A smile, word, or kindly deed means more than you may know
to those we find along the way to whom Christ's face we show

Sometimes we're the giver, and sometimes we receive
The more we give along the way, the greater our belief
that Christ will meet our own felt needs at the perfect time
With another pilgrim on the way willing to be kind

This Is My Father's World

This evening as my son and I drove home from Easter supper at my in-laws, I was - as is usual for me - absolutely taken by the beauty of nature around me. We drove through vineyards and meadows, under canopies of green trees and over mountains with forests that opened at times to wide views, all at that magical time of day when the sun is low in the sky and the light is soft and kind to the earth. Soon after our trek began, the sun fell below the ridgeline and the clouds morphed into the brilliant purply orange of sunset. Distant trees became spiky silouhettes against a fading sky.

As I fawned over the setting sun, my son said to me, "Mom, I wish I could experience the sunset like you." Though he appreciates nature, he isn't moved by such changes in the evening sky. I began to wonder whether the way my cells resonate at the perfect green of a springtime forest is a bit unusual. Or the way I want to jump out of my skin with joy at the sight of the moon when it's orange (orange!) and so big it looks like I could touch it. Or the way my heart wants to burst when the late afternoon sun shines on the distant creek as it winds its way through fields below us. I'm not sure, but I'm thankful for others who share this joy.

One of my favorite hymns was originally written for children as a way to teach them about the glory of God in creation. It's called This Is My Father's World. Click here to read the stanzas and take a listen.

Heavenly Holy Thursday

We fall down and lay our crowns at the feet of Jesus...

I just returned from Holy Thursday Mass where I experienced Christ's presence in an amazing, awe-inspiring way. This "Mass of the Lord's Supper" during Holy Week celebrates the institution of the Eucharist, and during the liturgy this evening I felt transported to heaven (or that the saints in heaven were present among us), as though we became part of the ongoing worship of Christ in that realm. Some have compared the mass' liturgy to the book of Revelation in scripture, and while I have always believed that, it was never more real to me than this evening.

At the end of mass, Christ was removed from the tabernacle and taken by the priest to reside in the cry room that has been converted into a temporary little prayer chapel until after Good Friday. I longed to keep watch with Christ this evening, but my son was with me so we had to leave. I know my Lord waits there for me until tomorrow, when I may pray on Good Friday from noon until three to commemorate the hours he was on the cross. I am glad He is patient; I am not always.

Truly the Easter Triduum (Holy Thursday, Good Friday and Easter) is the holiest time of the year. He comes to us in the most powerful of ways.

The picture above reminds me of a couple of hymns, Crown Him with Many Crowns and Holy, Holy, Holy. The latter speaks of "casting down our golden crowns around the glassy sea." Both of these hymns give me chills in light of what happened this evening.

Truly He is Lord! I look forward to celebrating His resurrection on Holy Saturday at the Easter Vigil Mass.

Pearl of Great Price

"Again, the kingdom of heaven is like a merchant looking for fine pearls. When he found one of great value, he went away and sold everything he had and bought it." (Matthew 13:45 & 46)

Dear Lord Jesus,

I am so grateful that you think of us as fine pearls; it makes me feel very loved. That you - You! - were willing to "sell everything" on our behalf is beyond amazing. I can't help but think of the lovely canticle in Philippians 2 about this sacrifice:

"Your attitude should be the same as that of Christ Jesus: Who, being in very nature God, did not consider equality with God something to be grasped, but made himself nothing, taking the very nature of a servant, being made in human likeness. And being found in appearance as a man, he humbled himself and became obedient to death— even death on a cross!

I cannot think of a greater gift than God - the creator himself - seeking, finding and selling all for a group of humble stones that He calls pearls.

Does any lustre or shine emanate from me? If so, let it be because of you. May all my "pearly" qualities be a mirror to reflect you - and You alone.

On This Path

Wildflowers spread madly, adorning my soul. I will burst! The joy is almost more than I can bear. Surprise was there all along, waiting on the edges; now it is revealed. Gratitude spills like rain. On this path of puzzles, I will trust the hand of God. My Savior gently beckons to guide me on my way.

Shape Me

If succombing makes me more like you...
...allow me to be your clay;

If trusting more reveals your light...
...allow me to be your day;

If bending to your will brings strength...
...allow me to be your reed;

If dying brings forth shoots of life...
...allow me to be your seed.

The Sweet Delicacy of God

I am a feather on the breath of God

This Lent has been one of death. Its beginning, Ash Wednesday, brought the news that a good friend and mentor was found dead. Later in the day, a friend's husband took his life. A week ago, a friend of a friend's heart suddenly failed; his funeral was yesterday. Last night, a member of our parish faded away in his hospital bed, and tonight, our pastor's mother clings to life.

What does all this mean?

Death can inspire if it follows a life lived well. It can bring despair if it does not. Either way, death reminds us of our fragility and the brevity of our occupancy on this terrestrial plane.

One thing I have learned in this whirlwind of death: God takes care of us in ways we often do not realize. A friend prays, feeling a strange leading, and later finds out why. A chance meeting in a bank brings comfort. A vision inspires not only the seer, but those on the edges who hear of it. The gentle hand of God is waved to shift the air ever so slightly, causing the might-have-been to become real. Just enough is His way: if subtle ripples will get the job done, that's what He'll send. He saves the waves for later.

May we all be ready to feel the sweetness of His gentle touch, whether in life or in death.

Movin' Toward Eternity

Today as I made the long but pretty drive between work and picking up my son, I thought about the inevitability of life's learning curve. It seems a shame, really, to have to wait so long to be on this side of the curve. It's hard not to look back on the things in life I would have done differently had I only known! Here I am, past the 50 mark, wondering why in the world I had to wait till now to learn what I have through this life. I can't help but wonder if I could have been of greater benefit to God and the other denizens of this planet had I come to this "comfortable in my own skin" point earlier in life.

Then I remembered. Life doesn't end when it seems to. It goes on always. It doesn't matter how and when we learn whatever lessons we do, because we're not working for glory here, but for the other side. Each step taken here, however halting or hesitant, is meant to get us there. It is all a journey to The Grand End of the Path, and each of us goes at our own pace. We'll get there if we stay the course, even when we move slowly. And part of the journey is learning from our mistakes, not to mention letting others see our learning curve so they can learn, too!

There is joy in the journey. Relax and be led by the Master.

360 Degrees of Reaping

I spoke at a women's retreat a couple of weeks ago. A friend asked at the last minute (well, a few days in advance), not so much because she needed to fill a spot but because it fell into place and it just seemed right.

The following Saturday there I was, in a room full of women I had never met, all eyes upon me, all faces intent, smiling and expectant. Some shared with me afterwards about how my story resonated with them; others graciously thanked me for being vulnerable. What they don't know is that my revisiting of past lessons for their benefit wrought healing in my own soul to a degree that astounds me even now. A window lifted within me to release air left over from old musty wounds and allow clean, breezy, "freshly washed sheets drying in the sunshine air" to rush in and fill me. I now breathe deeply of this delicious inner scent and it makes me feel clean inside.

Sometime I will share with you what I shared with them. For now, I am amazed at God's amazing grace.

Gone but Not Forgotten

Like a long-lost friend, I return to my blog. The joy I found in writing had, for a while, gone dormant, squelched as it was by a well-intended misunderstanding. I hope that doesn't sound too mysterious; it is not something I can talk about.

What I have discovered while I was gone is how much my walk with Christ is wrapped up in my being able to write about it. Writing helps me process important lessons on my journey. It solidifies in me the things He tells me as I walk, both large and small. The more I write, the more inspired I become and the more joy I find as I continue on the path with Him.

Another benefit of chronicling the spiritual life is seeing that prayers whispered in past posts have been answered, revelations of God's quiet but steady hand working in my life.

Here's to writing, to paths and to the nuggets of answered prayer we find along the way!

Like Waking Up

Light enters in and softly glows
On the mossy green promise
Of my soul

Darkness is dispelled
Instead, beams brighten
Nighttime's former realm

Seeds germinate to birth new life
The Petri dish of not yet risen ash
Reveals a Phoenix with promise of release

Shoots wriggle and hope pushes forth
Perfect Christfruit is sweetly borne
On limbs no longer bare

Pain's mystery now gives way to
Distant cries of triumph
That burst from yonder hills

Morning comes on softest angel's wings
Truly God waits on the edges
Of each darkest day