Sunday, October 31, 2004

Faithful to the Wistful Longing

Leave it up to God to remind me that my reminiscent longing to trail my fingers in the water and be thankful to Him is okay, too. I discussed this passage from Thomas Kelly's A Testament of Devotion yesterday with some friends and thought, "Oh my--that's just what I wrote about this morning!":
    Some of you know this holy,recreating Center of eternal peace and joy and live in it day and night. Some of you may see it over the margin and wistfully long to slip into that amazing Center where the soul is at home with God. Be very faithful to that wistful longing. It is the Eternal Goodness calling you to return Home, to feed upon green pastures and walk beside still waters and live in the peace of the Shepherd's presence. It is the life beyond fevered strain.

I love it when something I discover in my day connects so purely with a thought or a leading I've just had. I'm beginning to think that Synchronicity is God's middle name. :)

Enjoy your day!

Saturday, October 30, 2004

Add a Comment!

I'm excited--thanks to my daughter (who has now officially surpassed me in technical knowledge), I learned how to add comments to my site. So if you think of an idea or story you want to share--or you just want to say hello--you can click the Comment link at the bottom of each post and add your own message. You've been listening to me for a long time--now you can write and tell me about the wonderful and surprising places God shows up in your life!

Healing Grace

I awoke this morning with a sense of heaviness about the day. I have a lot to do. Obligations I've taken on. Time that needs to be spent on things that matter. Yet inside there's a pressure, a longing, a desire to luxuriate in this Saturday as though I were floating on the lake in a summer afternoon: kicking back, trailing my fingers in the warm water, feeling exuberantly thankful for the blue sky, the warm sun, for God.

But it's not summer anymore, and the fall winds are whipping the curtains against the windowsill and spiraling leaves around the yard. Sparrows glide effortlessly from one tree to the next, riding the wind currents deftly, not thrown by the blustery winds or worried--in this moment, anyway--about preparing for the winter.

What is it about using our gifts that enables us to let go of what we thought we wanted and instead find such joy and gratitude in what we have? Being who I am, doing what I do, and being thankful for it (that's the part I so often forget), dissolves that longing for the "time that was" and fills me with soul-deep gratitude that I can spend this busy morning in the presence of the "One that Is."

May you enjoy this Saturday--and the One you are spending it with!

Friday, October 22, 2004

Holding Life Up for Us To See

I was reading the daily entry from the book Listening To Your Life, and I found this wonderful thought from Frederick Beuchner today:

    "The task of the preacher is to hold up life to us; by whatever gift he or she has of imagination, eloquence, simple candor, to create images of life through which we can somehow see into the wordless truth of our lives."

Isn't that powerful? I think it's not something only "preachers" can do but rather something we each can show each other in the mirror of our find yourself in me and my experiences, and I find myself in you and yours. Doesn't that sound just like God to think of something so wonderful?

Thursday, October 21, 2004

Night Falls

I'M NOTICING MORE TIME FOR QUIET in the fall, more time for twilight, more clouds, more leaves, more stillness. As I walk along the path, it's as though the whole world has been padded just so that my footfalls won't echo too loudly, so that I can hear and tenderly hold the thoughts that are coming together in my mind, so that I can cherish the vital, life-giving surge of gratitude in my heart. There are a million unseen things going on as fall prepares the world for winter. Likewise, there is a lot going on beneath my surface these days, as seeds are scattered and turned under the soil, leaves ride the wind and float to the ground, and my roots reach deep into the earth, ready to nestle for a long and peaceful rest in the arms of God. :)

The beautiful image shown above is a card from the Nature Gallery; Ron Mellott, Photographer.