Honored to Pause

Morning light slipped onto the sill.
Rays arriving with the dawn rarely reach this niche of glass,
rarely attract notice.
Dispersed refractions glimmer among the prisms; 
brilliance within a microcosm, serendipitous and transient.
Honored to pause, 
witnessing the gift ...
acknowledging too,
the multitude of random wonders that flourish unseen.

May you witness the gifts,
Lisa 

Untethered: One More Gate to Heaven

The first leaves loose their moorings, sailing gracefully from above.

Slowly, they spiral and slightly tilt. 

Cast off from the tethers of elm or oak, pecan or maple, released in a brief and dazzling flight. Spread wide, kite-like, captured in a crosswind, they sweep back and forth. 

Occasionally lifted by an updraft, tossed in a swirl of crimson, mustard, and bronze ultimately falling as gravity draws them ever downward. Destined to assemble as a mosaic, carpeting vast spaces. 

In delight I revel in the glory of color cascading from the boughs and wonder at the bounty that has hung far overhead all summer long. Souls touched by such wonders whisper prayers, knowing the whole world is the house of God. 

“ The whole world is the house of God…

I can stop …long enough to see where I am…

I can flag one more gate to heaven, 

one more patch of ordinary earth with ladder marks on it, 

where the divine traffic is heavy…

instead of walking right past it… 

say a blessing before I move on to wherever I am due next.” 

  An Altar in the World, Barbara Taylor Brown

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Linking with these communities of writers sharing thoughts on faith: Weekend Whispers, Still Saturday, Coffee for Your Heart

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.

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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. 

Beaches

I linger over a photo of our precious little grandsons; 
standing side by side on the pristine beach, gingerly venturing out into the foaming surf, thrilled by the cold blue waves and the tickle of Gulf shore sand washing against their feet. 

In the way that thoughts wander, 
in my mind’s eye 
I travel across that same blue sea stretching vast across the planet 
to the Mediterranean shores where it is not safe for other little children to play. 
Places where wars rage.

Then I imagine being able to visually draw back from these beaches just as the satellites do; taking in more and more land mass until its the large curving surface of our living planet that is seen spinning endlessly beneath its cameras.

On that ever rotating mass of miraculous alchemy of water and earth 
there are billions of life incidents occurring. 
Billions of human actions taking place. Billions of actions enacted with mercy and compassion. 
And then there are the others. 

In seeking God’s peace
the response seemed to be, 
"Have no doubt."
All of it is enacted under the gaze of our Holy Creator God. 
And all of it will be redeemed by His incomprehensible power, 
in His good time.

"From heaven the Lord looks down

and sees all mankind;

from His dwelling place he watches

all who live on Earth –

he who forms the hearts of all,

who considers everything they do."

Psalm 33:13-15

                                                         ~

Linking with Emily, click here at Chatting At the Sky as we bloggers gather to muse over what we learned this summer and with Still Saturday where the gifts of Sabbath thoughts are shared.

Approach from a Different Angle

While squeezing some semblance of life out of hard, uncompromising circumstances solace arrived in the strength of a single wild bloom. 

During an early morning walk it appeared unexpected and incongruent, like a sun-yellow flag planted in a moonscape of rock. Living green and spiraled gold surrounded by the sharp edges of dry, nonsustaining stone. 

A water seeking, nutrient dependent creature can perish in such an environment. 

Living seems just so at times. All that is visible appears to offer not a mite of support to ease basic survival through treacherous times.

Approaching the bloom on the return circuit of the walk, passing by from a different angle, changed the perspective, changed the understanding. 

Consider instead, the protective qualities of impervious rock. No lawn mowing blades arrived here to slice through a wild bloom. Flooding rivulets of rain washing down the rocky bank were channeled around the shallowly rooted, errant seed until its roots grew a deeper grip. The sharp and uneven rock surfaces prevented the smooth terrain seeking footsteps of humans. 

The seemingly rigid and hard may be providential protection and an opportunity to thrive.

Revisit the harsh and uncompromising circumstances. It may be that the presence of sacred grace, a veiled blessing, is obscured by a narrow perspective.

                                             ~

You're invited to join other online Christian writers, as we celebrate faith with photography and prose. Simply click on the text link or the buttons below to link with:

Unforced Rhythms
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God, the Gardener of Life

In simple humility, 

let our gardener, God, 

landscape you with the Word, 

making a salvation-garden 

of your life. 

James 1:19-21 MSG

There is a path through the church's garden, through the trees and shrubs, where new spring growth has taken hold here and there. Wildflowers lift their purple and yellow blooms sunward. Light green, early growth foliage hangs low over the walk. Stones line the path intermittently yet continuous enough to mark the way. 

In preparation for the morning I’ve selected scriptures, identified intentions for prayer, and chosen to greet Him as Abba, and otherwise determined to be a listener as each step is taken. 

Breezes move gently through the canopy of limbs and against my face. Scripture images of Bible text scroll across my mind: the comfort of the Psalms, the teachings of Philippians, the promises in the Book of John... In the walking, hymns rise in a hum; Abba’s gift, not my plan. 

As I make my way, these stones remind me of the Biblical markings of God’s way and God’s voice. These wildflowers, they remind me of thanksgiving for even the unplanned, the unsightly circumstances of living for that too is redeemed as beauty. That scent, the invisible yet present. These buds near to bursting forth, so like the promises of our faith, the renewal of life. And that wind, always the image of the life giving breath of God. 

At the journey’s end I circle back retracing my steps, lingering slow to whisper a well of gratitude. The dappled shade playing across my heaven tilted face.

A Dusted Grey Cross

In the turning and stepping 

away from my pastor, 

tears were springing to my eyes. 

A dusted grey cross 

marked my bowed forehead 

and a soul deep humility 

marked my heart. 

Return to the Lord, your God,  

for He is gracious and merciful. 

Joel 2: 13

The Spirit within pulsed, swelled, 

and joy erupted in warmth 

across my face. 

A candle lit sanctuary, 

hushed in the sacred of forgiving, 

veiled the emotion of communion 

between God’s spirit 

and this grateful heart.

Then God made you alive with Christ. 

He forgave all our sins. 

He canceled the record 

that contained the charges 

against us. 

He took it and destroyed it 

by nailing it to Christ's cross. 

 Colossians 2:13-14

Gaining composure 

through the measured, steady pace 

back to the rows of pews, 

I sensed the streaming pilgrimage 

of so many all around me. 

Moving in turn, to receive the same mark

 scrawled across a bowed head. 

Were tears welling up, 

and hearts swelling up, 

all along these aisles? 

Once seated, did hands like mine, 

reach for Bibles to scour for favorite 

Psalms of remorse and praising? 

Were ashes giving way to beauty?

This post was already written when the Inbox revealed Emily’s exquisite post. Visit her at Imperfect Prose. She has much to share about the work of ashes.  

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