Moments with God

While in high school, we lived in a coastal community. Our home was literally across the street from the ocean, and redwood forest surrounded it on three sides. Each day after school, I'd spend time on the cliffs overlooking the Pacific that stretched for untold miles before me. That ocean, and time alone there with God, was peace for me in an otherwise tumultous existence. Basking in the presence of God in those moments (or hours) allowed me to walk in calmness through whatever else surrounded me.

That was a long time ago in a different world. But nature still speaks to me. We live inside a kaleidoscope of sensual imagery that stimulates us toward God. What we see is physical (mountains made of rough, hard rock, blades of grass that are soft or prickly depending on the season, clouds misty and damp on our skin were we to fly through them), but the physical draws us to the spiritual, causing us to embrace (or question) the "beyond," the "more than what we see." Or at least it should. God has instilled a longing for Him in our souls, and His reflection in nature stimulates that longing like hunger pangs. "The heavens speak of the glory of God, the firmament shows His handiwork." (Psalm 19)

This evening my son's meeting ran long, so I had unexpected time to spend in a beautiful setting. The air was that perfect balance between warm and cool, meadows and mountains were drawing in their colors for the night, and clouds were wearing their dusk-time formal wear (tonight's color was orange). I hung out the vehicle's window, dog-like, craning to see the beauty. All this was set to the backdrop of Christian music on the radio. "You speak with thunder and lightning, Your voice shakes the mountains, the foundations of the earth... speak to me, speak to me..."

That was an unexpected stolen moment in an otherwise busy world, and what better way to spend it than to have the Word of God spoken in three dimensions all around me?

Soar!

Soar!

Take flight, my soul!
Free from the bonds
That have held you fast

Never again let anything damage you
Rest in the reality of who you are,
A child of God, and it is God
Who has always called and beckoned you

You remember Him from your childhood
When He first called your name

From the time you were a thought in God's mind,
He knew who you were, who you would be,
And how you would get there
Live this now without any apologies
You only need please Him...

Dance in the meadow of God's love
Where it is always springtime,
Where birds always sing,
And where your favorite flowers abide.

You are always loved by Him
Always cradled in His arms
Always gently encouraged to be your best for Him

Abide only in Him
For this is true freedom

Soar!

Lapse in Judgment

In my need to reach out for advice amidst some recent turmoil in my life, I made an error in judgment and someone who's completely innocent of the situation may have read the words I wrote. They were not words that disparaged, nonetheless my confusion in a difficult situation came through. And there's no way I can directly repair the damage...

...except pray.

And pray I will. I will pray that my lack of discernment will not make this person question their faith in any way. And that God will use it for good. He's good at that.

In the book of Genesis, Joseph, Jacob's son, encountered many trials. He stood strong through them, always trusting God, and some of them were amazingly difficult. At one point he had the presence of mind to say, "You planned to harm me. But God planned it for good. He planned to do what is now being done. He wanted to save many lives." Genesis 50:20

How absolutely counter-intuitive those words are! What temerity to say and believe them! But how true. God is in the redemption business. There is nothing we have done, are doing or will do that cannot be redeemed in some way, however small, when given to Him in faith. He redeems souls, He gives eternal life; how much more can he redeem the other issues of our lives? "All things work together for good to those who love God and are called according to His purposes." Romans 8:28

Maybe this will be used for good in this person's life. I pray it will be so. Until then, Lord, I will pray, trust that you will redeem it, and learn to do better next time!

Medicine for the Soul

It's interesting how easily bodies fit together in a hug, almost as though our Creator designed our forms for embracing. A good hug from a trusted friend is great medicine when one's soul needs repair. The arms of someone who cares and a long embrace can be so comforting.

Some of us crave touch more than others. My youngest son is my kindred hugging spirit. When he was an infant, he'd seek to get as close as possible to me; when I held him, he'd press his check next to mine and hold it there. I could tell he was soaking up the comfort of his mother's nearness. Even now, at age 17, he craves long hugs from mom. I am happy to oblige. ;)

My hugging posse isn't always around for a fix when huge hugging needs are present, so I'm learning to "hug" myself and to receive "hugs" from God. Sitting still in His holy presence feels like a hug, as does prayer, and doing things that are good for me. Old fashioned good deeds feel like hugs, too. (It's funny that we feel like we've been hugged when we do for others. That's God's economy in action!)

But hugging with real arms feels good, too, which is why it's my favorite kind. :)

Amendment of the Heart

Last night I wrote a prayer asking God to shape my heart. But I want to amend something.

I asked Him to make my heart "cautious but open." I should actually be asking the opposite. May I never be afraid to love completely, fully, openly and with abandon in all situations, whatever I am thought of, however I'm treated. May I have the heart of Christ, who always reaches out with complete love.

May I be myself in all situations, offering my heart freely, without fear of rejection. May the love I offer be selfless; may it be an offer that doesn't expect anything in return. May I continue to love and offer my heart in cases where my heart has been hurt or my expectations have not been met.

"Beloved, let us love one another, for love is of God and everyone that loveth is born of God and knoweth God. He that loveth not, knoweth not God, for God is love." I John 4:7 & 8 (recited in King James English from memories of a song sung in college. :)

How Close Do I Want to Be?

Dear Lord,

I pray that my heart would:

be as a child's before you each morning, sprout a garden of willingness to please you, be cautious yet open, seek your peace but be willing to fight your fight, have you as its priority, find its confidence in you, be stilled at the sound of your voice, desire justice tempered with love, follow you as the sunflowers do the sun, be ever faithful, be flooded with your light in every dark recess, be bowled over by the knowledge of your love, reflect your kindness, love others, be hidden in you so that every relationship would be based on you, and know that you, and you alone, are more than enough.

Love, Esther

Trust among Sticky Cobwebs

I wrote not too long ago comparing mistletoe on oak trees to sin and how damaging either can be if left unchecked.

Right now I'm not being hampered by sin, but by sticky, cobwebby cares that don't want to let go. They cling as soon as I take my eyes off our Lord. Like St. Peter in the stormy waves, I sink when my focus drifts from Him.

I've made a difficult decision, one that will eventually bring health and healing to me and those I love, but on another level it brings grief. There is personal loss for me and disappointment for others. When I focus on those things, the cobwebs surround me.

Jesus beckons to me from the waves, asking me to trust, even when change feels difficult. I admit that I can be a cowardly decision maker. I love decisions that "make themselves," such as my deciding to become Catholic. I was driven toward that goal; the desire to receive Christ in the Eucharist compelled me in an irrestible way. Tentatively stepping out of the boat, however, is not so easy, and that's where faith comes in. It's being willing to work without a net (at least not a visible one).

My earthly father was a very strong swimmer, and when I was young, he took my brother and me for rides into deep water. He asked us to hold onto his back while he swam. It didn't seem dangerous to me because I trusted his strength and skill. It didn't matter that I didn't know how to swim well yet because I knew my father did.

Taking baby steps on the water is what I'm asked to do right now. My life preserver is the knowledge of my Heavenly Father's goodness and grace. Hope sees the road, trust takes the step, and faith pushes forward.

"All things work together for good for them that love God and are called according to His purposes." Romans 8:28

"Now faith is the substance of things hoped for, the evidence of things not seen." Hebrews 11:1