Story Reflects the Weave of a Striving Heart

I have not written. It escapes me. 

The notion rises near daily, then evaporates as a wisp. 

Sentences promise to line up. Topics ticker tape across the marquee of thoughts, but fade and spill into the mist of distractions. 

Immediacy calls out, speaks internally about life’s shortening thread and the reduced opportunities to tell stories. Relentless, Immediacy rises up to inspire the will to write. 

Decision Making counter argues. Decision Making tangles the story yarns; knots the family of origin lore with travel logs, splits threads between loss or redemption memoire, and balls up faith stories with frayed epistles of doubtful searching. 

Decision Making teams with the uninvited Nay Sayer to haggle internally over the value of recording any of it. Where would the stories find readers or purpose? One woman’s collection of tales, the Nay Sayer posits, among billions of her peers; why would that have value?

~

"The Only unique contribution that we will ever make in this world 

will be born of our own creativity." 

Brene Brown, Daring Greatly

~

Spirit rises. 

Spirit, the sacred and divine within all, rises. 

Spirit persistently urges – write.

Spirit devotedly whispers, every story matters.

Every story reflects the weave of a striving heart,

co-created by divine intent and human interpretation. 

Record personal history, recount disasters and discoveries

to herald the dearly attained saga of human transformation.

~

“The voice that spoke light into existence is the one we need to expel the darkness within and bring us to light, to life, and to love. Working on us like an instrument that is out of tune, God masterfully tightens and loosens the strings until notes resonate properly and reflect the most beautiful of sounds. We find our voice when we find His voice.” p. 60

The Artisan Soul: Crafting Your Life Into a Work of Art, 

Erwin Raphael McManus

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An Empty Vessel

"Behold, Lord, an empty vessel that needs to be filled." Martin Luther

Rounded surfaces and undulating forms, 

glazed in reflecting hues 

or fired to rustic textures reminiscent of earth’s original character.

The aesthetics of pottery captivate the human sou.

We are inspired by the act of creation watching the potter at her wheel, 

hands sliding wet against luminous clay, 

guiding shape out of formless matter. 

The art, the shaping,  

a metaphor for our own creation from  God’s loving hands. 

The shapes and purposes of every vessel as numerous as grains of sand.

~

"Behold, Lord, an empty vessel that needs to be filled.  My Lord,fill it.  

I am weak in the faith; strengthen me.  I am cold in love; warm me and make me fervent, that my love may go out to my neighbor.  I do not have a strong and firm faith; at times I doubt and I am unable to trust you altogether.  O Lord, help me.  Strengthen my faith and trust in you.  In you I have sealed the treasure of all I have.  I am poor; you are rich and came to be merciful to the poor.  I am a sinner; you are upright.  With me, there is an abundance of sin; in you is the fullness of righteousness.  Therefore I will remain with you, of whom I can receive, but to whom I may not give. Amen”        
Martin Luther

~

Have Thine own way, Lord! Have Thine own way!

Thou art the Potter, I am the clay.

Mold me and make me after Thy will,

While I am waiting, yielded and still.

                 Lyrics by Adelaide Pollard, 1907

~   

But now, O Lord, thou art our father; we are the clay, and thou our potter; 

and we all are the work of thy hand.

Isaiah 64:8

*   *   *

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July Smolders into August

July heat, an open oven door, with the scent of over toasted bread. 

Air meandering heavy and slow, dense with crackled dryness. 

The flag barely able to rustle itself from a limp fold of cloth on the pole. 

A full compliment of summer’s winged critters swarm, skim, and hum above the pond’s undisturbed surface, the sole opposite of lazy in the heat of mid-day.

Shuttered in the shade, slates angled to reflect rays elsewhere;

pondering what remnants of deep summer shine most in my memory…

~ Blueberries. 

Mounds of Michigan blueberries. Folded into pancakes topped with maple syrup, covered with milk and sugar, or nibbled dark-blue-fresh straight from the bowl. Summer’s orbs of berry-liciousness!

~ Huldah, holy woman of great reputation, chosen by God to be a prophet, teacher, and adviser to Kings! Listen up folks, she taught men! She was selected above Jeremiah, to inform the King about God’s will {2 Kings 22:1-20}. Take heart sisters in Christ, God does indeed call women to proclaim His word.

~ Reading Anthony Doer’s novel, All the Light We Can Not See…

in contrast to its title, SHINES big time on my recommendations to read. It’s multiple themes, creative intricacies, historical depth, wondrous characters, and sweeping plot enthralled me for a marathon four day reading binge. Go now. Download today.

~ Seriously now, what shines brilliantly among July’s memories 

would be a fervent message on Christian compassion. 

In the 4th video of Andy Stanley’s boldly honest video series Your Move, Stanley says even though Christians are told in John 13:34-35 to “Love one another”, he honestly admits, “Church people are some of the meanest people you know.” “(We) mistreat people in the name of Jesus.” In response, he expertly expounds on Colossians 3:12, “Clothe yourself with compassion…” reminding us that Christ means, “I want this (love and compassion) to mark you!” Yes indeed, that message burned deep in my heart in the midst of this July.       

http://yourmove.is/episode/ep4-follow-wear/

~ And, the frivolous is not to be left out, loving the new series, “Giada in Italy”. 

Really, my cooking interest (and talent) is modest. However filming of the Mediterranean gem that is Positano, captures my visual senses. Local markets, stucco architecture in contrast to brilliant flowers, melded with gorgeous food preparation…I’m in.

It’s the season to ice that tea, seek the shade, relish bone deep warmth, and ponder what memories shine bright for you this summer.

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Linking with Chatting at the Sky, Weekend Brew, & Still Saturday this weekend.

Social Holiness

He was exceptionally gregarious and she had a heart for serving others. Together our parents modeled an active life of community service and hospitality. We knew the inside of most of the churches in town, not just our own. I can not count the number of church potlucks that Dad supported via the purchase of tickets to feed his family eight. One congregation hosted a Spaghetti Dinner, we were there. Another denomination hosted an annual Smorgasbord every spring, we were there. Pancake Breakfast at the largest church in town started way too early on a Saturday morning, but even Dad’s teenagers were strongly encouraged to join him. The little rural church in the country had a potluck lunch and a quilt raffle, my Dad bought tickets even when half his kids were away at college. 

“How many memories do you have of great conversations shared over a good meal? …something special happens when we break bread and share drinks with one another. It is a holy time.”   

   http://rethinkchurch.org/articles/spirituality/creating-sacred-space-anywhere-you-are

In the 70’s, Meals on Wheels was one of our mother’s chosen forms of outreach. Here she had six near adult kids at home that she was preparing meals for every evening and still, she loaded up lunches in the back the station wagon and drove around town for several hours delivering lunch along with a few moments of neighborly conversation, to the elderly folks in our community. At times the younger siblings accompanied her. They remember the people, the gratitude, and our mother’s gift of friendship.

Methodist founder John Wesley called this 

active engagement of humanity “social holiness”.

http://rethinkchurch.org/learn-about-united-methodists

We practice Christian hospitality even in the smallest places of our daily life: when we offer a  smile and whisper support to the mother struggling with her teenager in a restaurant, when we email a note to a woman who was absent from the week’s Bible Study class, when we suggest a lunch date to a person who we know is struggling, when we greet walkers on the path, regardless of race or class; any time we support, serve, and extend grace.

Social holiness requires intention and hospitality.

Someone you know would love to join you for lunch.

~

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A Sweet Smelling Savor

As a guest visiting a beautiful house of worship, I entered the sanctuary with much interest, anticipating a new worship experience in an architecturally exquisite church. 

Surprisingly, it was the wonderful fragrance that immediately captured my attention. 

Whispering my surprise, I leaned close to say, “It smells so good!”. 

Incense is not used in the churches of my heritage, but its presence in that sanctuary felt ancient, authentically divine, and was deeply memorable. 

As Lauren Winner writes in her recently published book Wearing God, "In early Christian worship, incense "conveyed divine presence" to the people. Jesus breathed out the "fragrance of His life" upon the cross, and that fragrance was elusively present, reprised in the incense lit during liturgy." p.77

Fragrance appears in several Biblical texts to describe the perfumed presence of the Holy Lord…

"All your robes are fragrant with myrrh and aloes and cassia." Psalm 45:8

"...And walk in love, as Christ also hath loved us, and hath given himself for us an offering 

and a sacrifice to God for a sweet smelling savor." 

Ephesians 5:1 KJV

Fragrance is also used to powerfully represent the constantly streaming prayers of God’s people. A multitude of prayers, as incense, permeating the air with sacred scent and rising up before the enthroned Risen Lord…

"...the twenty-four elders fell down before the Lamb. Each one had a harp and they were holding golden bowls full of incense, which are the prayers of God’s people." 

Rev. 5:8

Fragrance, the presence of scent, 

gathers an entirely new and elevated meaning when pondered through the words of these scriptures. 

It prompts a closer attention to the rain washed scent of baptismal waters, the aromas steaming from “our daily bread”, the fragrance of candle wax burning on the alter, the ancient perfumes of the Bethlehem story, and the bouquet of the wine “poured out for you”.

Be alert for a sweet smelling savor; Holy God leaves fragrant traces of His presence.

~

Read more from Wearing God…

"...you can discover things about God by looking around your ordinary, everyday life. There is a method here, and it is a Jesus method. Jesus, after all, specialized in asking people to steep themselves in the words of scriptures and then to look around their ordinary Tuesdays to see what they could see about holiness and life with God. This is not merely entertaining wordplay to give overactive minds something pious to do. It is the Bible's way of making us aware of God and of the world in which we meet God."  Lauren Winner, Wearing God: Clothing, Laughter, Fire, and Other Overlooked Ways of Meeting God

This post is linked to the following faith communities: Coffee for Your Heart, Tell His Story,  Still Saturday, Sunday Stillness, and Weekend Brew. Join us! 

Art & Spiritual Vitality

Faith filled living, for some of us, includes the visual arts. 

Images in every medium speak deeply to the soul, often in surprising ways 

as understandings are revealed to the conscious mind that might have been inaccessible through any other exploration.

Whether it includes enjoying the breathtaking beauty of church sanctuaries, gazing intently at creation’s many majesties, studying the composition of stunning art forms, or numerous other modalities; vision and visual art forms have long been a means of spiritual  contemplation. For myself, in recent years, that inclination has been expanded to embrace creating visual images through photography, painting, and visual journaling as a faith practice. In tandem with a slow progression into the arts I searched for writings about this realm of contemplative practice, arriving, in part, to the works of those quoted here.

“In an aesthetic experience, in the creation or the contemplation of a work of art, the psychological conscience is able to attain some of its highest and most perfect fulfillments. Art enables us to find ourselves and lose ourselves at the same time. The mind  that responds to the intellectual and spiritual values that lie hidden in a poem, a painting, or a piece of music, discovers a spiritual vitality that lifts it above itself, takes it out of itself, and makes it present to itself on a level of being that it did not know it could ever achieve.” p. 34, No Man Is an Island written by Thomas Merton, Trappist Monk.

Merton so aptly describes what I have so often experienced myself, how an experience with art, in a multitude of formats, can lead one to a heightened sense of faith and closeness to God. Photography too, offers precious opportunities for walking more intimately with God, as writer Christine Valters Paintner describes in Eyes of the Heart: Photography as a Christian Contemplative Practice …

“… one of the wonders of photography [is] to be able to frame a moment in time and, within my gazing absolute presence in that particular moment, discover holiness.” (p.5)… Photography can be an act of silent worship. When we see the world with “eyes of the heart”, we can engage in an act of both reverence and self-expression. We can discover how the living Spirit is being revealed in the world.” p.8

Paintner borrows the lyrical phrase “eyes of the heart” from Ephesians 1:18. It is a phrase that Paul uses in his letter to the people of Ephesus. Paul tells the people that he prays for them, in part, so that they will “have the eyes of their hearts enlightened” by the wisdom of the Spirit and the power of God. 

Working with inks, papers, paints, digital photography 

and the printed Word; 

is practicing the spiritual discipline of seeking enlightenment 

through God’s power and the Spirit’s sacred wisdom.

*  *  *  *  *

This post is linked with the online communities of Still Saturday, Weekend Brew, and Playdates With God. Join us for more thoughts on the pursuit of Sabbath and the experience of God moments in daily living. 

Enter Silence

When life is heavy and hard to take, 

go off by yourself. 

Enter into silence. 

Bow in prayer. 

Wait for hope to appear. 

Lamentation 3:28 MSG

Richard Foster writes on the Discipline of Solitude 

and the gifts that this practice offers to the searching heart: 

“There is the freedom to be alone, 

not in order to be away from other people 

but in order to hear the divine Whisper better.” *

Further in the discussion of solitude Foster adds:

“The dark night (of the soul) is one of the ways God brings us to hush, 

a stillness so that He may work an inner transformation upon the soul.” *

Settle into silence,

still enough,

to capture a universe of watery orbs spilled across a single blossom. 

Such moments welcome the Holy whispers of wisdom.

*Celebration of Discipline by Richard Foster.

Posting with Still Saturday, The Weekend Brew, Tell His Story, and Unforced Rhythms. 

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Mary Speaks

A Mother's Day tribute to the young woman who carried our Lord, nurtured Him through childhood, and bore the full experience of His life and dying.

Mary Speaks: 

by Madeleine L’Engle

O you who bear the pain of the whole earth, I bore you.
O you whose tears gave human tears their worth, I laughed with you.
You, who when your hem is touched, give power, I nourished you.
Who turn the day to night in this dark hour, light comes from you.
O you who hold the world in your embrace, I carried you.
Whose arms encircled the world with your grace, I once held you.
O you who laughed and ate and walked the shore, I played with you.
And I, who with all others, you died for, now I hold you.
May I be faithful to this final test, in this last hour I hold my child, my son;

His body close enfolded to my breast:
The holder held, the bearer borne.
Mourning to joy, darkness to morn.
Open, my arms; your work is done.

Taken from The Ordering of Love ~ New & Collected Poems of Madeleine L'Engle

{Linking with other writer's sharing faith at Still Saturday, Sunday Community, and The Weekend Brew. Click on those buttons below to peruse more meditations on faith.}

Abundance

“Blessing has in it the power to increase.” 

As my eyes decoded left to right, those words rose from the page to be heeded by the heart. The heart leaned in close, the meaning so decidedly true. 

Yes, certainly it is as the writer intended in reference to God’s word in the128th Psalm. 

But then carried further, applied expansively, 

God’s blessings in all forms propagate to bring forward additional abundance. 

A revelation that is known only as one’s faith life grows deep roots nurtured by prayer, study, and a persistent vigilance for divine purpose. 

Think of it more simply: 

study extends your knowledge. 

Knowledge expands your faith. 

Faith transforms your perception. 

Perception heeds divine presence and provision 

which further affirms and emboldens your faith. 

The more you are aware of God at work, 

the more you will see God’s work. 

“Blessing has in it the power to increase.”

                              ~

As is my pleasure each weekend,
 I'm linking with thoughtful folks over at 
Still Saturday, 
the Sunday community, 
and Weekend Brew. 
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to enjoy more photography and a quiet word.

Sizing Up the Highlights

Sizing up the month's highlights once again. These bits of thought come to mind... 

1. We all relearned the two faces of March. 

I remain partial to the fragile blooming, bright, crisp air version. And have risked planting flowers in the front porch pots. During the final days of the month I'll learn if that was a smart move or not. Fingers crossed.


2. I was just sort of visually stunned to peruse the Google data center . Take a look at the artistic  innards of what is basically today's version of the blended, global library and post office.

3. I'm discovering HGTV. {Geez, you're thinking, where have you been?} Never the less,  House Hunters International is new to me. I so admire the various motivations that people have for moving beyond their native country. One woman was a food blogger moving to a small city in France to immerse herself in local cuisine to better inform her writing. A couple, after years of working in the hospitality industry, was looking for an island resort of their own, to live in and manage. Making dreams like these a reality takes courage and creativity. Not to mention the fascinating diversity of design and architecture of housing around the world.

4. I hit a jackpot of good reads this month and was introduced to two authors. One, Christian poet Jane Kenyon wrote a delightful collection of essays that were published in A Hundred White Daffodils {must love that title!}. See a post about her writing and excerpts from her poems over here. 

Next up, I courageously ventured through Mary Karr's memoir, LIT. I will admit to skimming the harsh early chapters. It takes a stout heart to read authentic struggles. BUT, the remaining story of hard sought scratching toward survival through faith and her eventual conversion to Christianity was stunning. Her writing is gifted while shirking no realities. In an interview about her work memoirist Mary Karr stated:

"That’s what’s so gorgeous about humanity. It doesn’t matter how bleak our daily lives are, we still fight for the light. I think that’s our divinity. We lean into love, even in the most hideous circumstances. We manage to hope." The Paris Review, 2009.

Swan Thieves was fiction to curl up and get lost in. It wrapped me in the painter's life and art history with a compelling psychological mystery woven through two parallel plots. To be savored.

5. Encountered several beautiful unknown words recently. I favored this one: numinous - spiritually elevated, mysterious.



6. Walking in early spring twilight is heavenly. 
Even as solar beams slip low on the horizon the senses remember heat and light.

                                            ~

Venture over to What We Learned to share the humorous and the quirky of fellow writers in Emily's community. You'll think, "Really? I did not know that!"

A Poet's Holy Muse

Spring alternately bristled and curtsied this week. 

Cutting, crisp winds with rain and intermittent low temps one moment, 

upstaged by bold rays of sun the next day, 

teasing our trees and budding bulbs to release their fragile blooms.

Amidst the indecisiveness of the outdoors I ventured into the library 

where fortune blessed me with an introduction to poet Jane Kenyon

by way of A Hundred White Daffodils, 

a collection of her essays, interviews, translations,  and poems.

Pleasantly, as rain flooded the back ponds, I discovered a new favored writer.

Jane Kenyon is a highly regarded contemporary poet whose work is greatly influenced by her Christian faith. 

She writes,

“It was my habit to speak to Him.

His goodness perfumed my life.

I loved the Lord,

he heard my cry,

and he loved me as His own.”

From “Woman, Why are You Weeping”, p.207

* * * 

And later in reading an interview with  Bill Moyers,

Jane claims: There are times when I feel I’m given poems.

Bill Moyers: How do we cultivate that in ourselves?

Jane Kenyon: We have to get quiet. We have to be still, and that’s harder and harder in this century.     ...

Moyers: How did you come to write “Let the Evening Come”? So many people say that is the favorite of your poems.

Kenyon: That poem was given to me.

Moyers: By?

Kenyon: The muse, the Holy Ghost... I felt I needed something redeeming. I went upstairs with the purpose of writing something redeeming...this just fell out.

* * * 

This happens, does it not? In just this way. 

In our creative experiences, as one writes, strums, or applies oils to canvas, sensing a hand in union with eye and the heart, 

the Creator present in our inner musing 

to guide our efforts to record His creation.

A Hundred White Daffodils illuminated these early brooding days of spring, 

these expectant and watchful days Lent.

“It’s not just more flowers I want, it’s more light,

more air for flowers, more sun for cheerfulness...

and a hundred white daffodils that grow after dusk 

against the unpainted boards  of an old barn.” 

From “The Phantom Pruner”, p.50

God Whispers Grace Over the Good Earth

A pair of squirrels race across rooftops leaping effortlessly onto tree boughs, swirling down the trunk, to join in the mingled mass of leaves drifted across the still green grass. Heron’s grey serpentine neck is silhouetted against the low light sky as it’s perched at the upper most reaches of a fall canopy of tree color. Roses bravely continue to offer a few scant blooms, opening fragile petals despite the dropping temperatures. The afternoon air is uncommonly still. Beyond the squirrel rustling and bird twitters, its quiet. Quiet enough to encourage a pause. Quiet enough to close the eyes, to stand among the living woods, to hear the season’s heartbeat, to wonder if that breathing hush is God whispering grace over the good earth. Hopeful, I stay in place, stand open handed, listening amidst an age old whisper that can be heard in God’s natural world.

                                                                ~

"And God saw everything that He had made,

and, behold,it was very good."

Genesis 1:31

~

“As soon as we acknowledge God to be the supreme architect, 

who has erected the beauteous fabric of the universe, 

our minds must necessarily be ravished with wonder 

at His infinite goodness, wisdom, and power.” 

John Calvin


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