Einstein's Friend

I love the way God shows up everywhere when we have the eyes to look. Keeping our mind's eye, as well as our heart and our ears open is important in welcoming the voice and face of God wherever, however, and whenever we can. Moments of recognition, or remembering God, sometimes come on me in the smallest things. Seeing a cardinal. Noticing a salmon-colored sunset. Hearing a certain musical chord or a child's laughter; looking into a baby's big, beautiful, wondering eyes. God is truly everywhere and we can feel his presence any time. The only trick is in being open to it, keeping ourselves from being bound to the earth by the worries of our fleeting-but-incessant daily concerns.

Right now I'm reading The World As I See It, by Albert Einstein. This closer look at Einstein was sparked by my recent wondrous journey through E=mc2, by David Bodanis. I love the way Einstein describes God as "The Old One" and the source of all life and reason in the universe. In the essay I read last night, eulogizing one of his dear friends, he writes about the gifts a true friendship offers. He talks of how we can help each other break free of those things that bind us to the small, absorbing circumstances of life:

"We both felt that this friendship was not only a blessing because each understood the other, was enriched by him, and found in him that responsive echo so essential to anybody who is truly alive; it also helped to make both of us more independent of external experience, to objectivize it more easily."

Through our friendships and connections, we help each other break free of the ties that bind us to the earth, helping us remember what is important and lasting, pointing us to the eternal divine within us all. May we each have a moment today in which we remember that we are the living reminders of God's eternal love and faithfulness, placed side by side in this world to give each other strength and point to The Old One who holds us together in an embrace that will never end.
Blessings on your day! :) k

Father Knows Best

There's a downside to being a person with a "helpful" personality. If you have been blessed with the gift of being able to see where things hurt, a desire to want to make things better for people, a hunger to improve conditions, a longing to leave the world better than you found it, you (like me) run the risk of thinking that you know how to fix things. When a friend loses a job, you know where to tell her to look and which role will be "right" for her (I'm notorious for this...just ask my daughter!). When someone close to you suffers a disappointment, you sift through the damage to find the root of blessing that's in there somewhere. Neither in itself is a bad thing. The problem comes when we forget that there may be countless other options, and we lose sight of the fact that God may be at work in the situation in a way we can't even imagine.

What I've found in my own life is that the "helpfulness" that comes out in the form of making suggestions, offering reassurance, giving encouragement, or suggesting interpretations, is an attempt to make the other person feel better and perhaps offer a solution they haven't thought of yet. The catch-22 is that in so many of the most difficult situations in our lives, the real point of change happens only when we dig in and begin working through things with God. While we struggle within ourselves, or listen to the counsel and suggestions of others, we may still unknowingly be trying to put a temporary bandaid on something God wants to heal and wipe completely away. When we reach out to help others, we mean well; we simply want their pain to go away. But God may have something deeper, something eternally healing in mind. Would I step in and reassure another if I knew all my "help" did was delay the moment she turns to God?

Our companionship with each other is vitally important as we walk through this life. Our joining is God's purpose; our love and compassion for each other is the greatest visible manifestation of God at work in our world. I do think God gives us insights and ideas we are meant to use to help those around us. But perhaps I need to be more discerning about the "help" I offer. If I listen very closely to God, I hope I'll learn when my "counsel" is an idea from Him and when it is my own intense desire to help. And as I continue to learn, I suspect I'll discover that in many cases, the best way for me to help others is not to try to change them or solve their problems, but to love and understand them and demonstrate what I'm learning in my own life--that I need to look to God for the real answers, the lasting gift, the eternal Love.

The Place of Rest

This morning I was rereading The Practice of the Presence of God by Brother Lawrence (I love this book!), and this quote jumped out at me. Just last night I was writing something and trying to describe that feeling of "home" or "fit" I found at certain moments, in certain places, with certain people. This quote says it perfectly:

"...I found myself changed all at once; and my soul, which till that time was in trouble, felt a profound inward peace, as if she were in her center and place of rest."

Yes! Exactly! I hope you have had moments when your soul is in her center and resting in peace and love. In fact, I hope we each experience it today. In times like these, when everything seems unsettled and chaotic, isn't it nice to know that we can still hear and know God in the center of our being? Blessings on your day! :)

Beyond Obedience

People talk a lot about being "obedient" to God, doing what we feel He wants us to do, even when we don't feel like doing it. This is living up to a standard, keeping within a certain boundary, faithfully netting out small habits and flaws that would in some way go against the ten commandments. This morning I've been thinking about "obedience" in a new way. When our children are very small, they need to obey us in order to stay safe. They learn to stay away from busy streets, avoid touching hot things, and generally learn to stay out of danger. As they grow, we teach them obedience in the smaller things that help them get along better in--and give more to--the world. They learn manners, respect, faith, charity, and compassion. As they grow to adulthood, our expectations of their "obedience" fade away as we recognize that the lessons they needed (first to stay safe, and then to live a good life) are now internalized in them, part of their thinking, knowing, and living process.

Many people think of God as a judge, a great omnipotent being who see our every mistake, knows our every flaw, and plans--sometimes by bringing pain and hardship to us--to net out those unsavory characteristics so that we might be perfect one day like Him. I think of God as an all-loving Father, One who loves us with a perfect, endless, all-encompassing love that is beyond what we we can fathom. Our obedience to Him is not a prerequisite for His love; in fact, our obedience isn't for Him at all--it's for us. By listening to Him and faithfully applying what we hear, we learn what it feels like to walk with Him at the center of our hearts. This reduces our guilt (and the separation that comes as a result of it) and enables us to allow more of His love in. By obeying the sense and essence of His message, we gradually trust Him enough to allow His healing light to illumine all the hurting places inside us that so need it. By keeping within the parameters we are given (no other idols, love our neighbor, put God first), we stay safe and learn to live a good life in Him.

I believe there's another stage beyond obedience when much of the self-training is done and the lessons of Love are internalized in us. That's where we enter an adult partnership with God, sharing in His work, working side-by-side with Him, full of His spirit and sure of His love. We no longer need to focus on "obedience" because we understand. We know. We live immersed in His love. We can throw away that picture of God as a judge with a big shoe, waiting to squish us for saying or doing the wrong things. We are no longer children. We can stand up tall, look Him straight in the eye (whether we find that eye in a flower, a loved one, a piece of music, or even a storm), and tell Him that we love Him. Not because we're afraid of doing otherwise, but because we mean it.

Being Miserable

Yesterday was a tough day for my son Cameron. It was a night game and the lights beamed down on our team of 3rd and 4th graders (the "Mets"). Cameron stood on the pitcher's mound and took a few warm-up pitches to the coach. At 10, this is his first year in little league ball, and he was selected to be one of two pitchers early in the season. This is the first year they play team-pitch ball (meaning the kids pitch to each other instead of the coaches pitching) and Cameron has done a good job in the six or so games they've played in learning how to focus and get the ball to the catcher's mitt in such a way that he hears the great sound of the ump's call, "Strike!"

But some games you win, and some games you lose. And yesterday had the earmark of the unexpected. As the coach returned a ball, it went high and struck Cameron right in the mouth. The crowd went "Ooh!" and I fought my mom tendency to jump up from the bleachers and hurry out to the field to see whether he was all right. The coach hadn't seen the ball hit him, and Cameron stood out there on the mound, pushing his tongue against the inside of his mouth, resolving not to cry. He blinked hard a few times and kept his face as blank as granite. I zeroed in on his eyes, watching for signs that I needed to do something. He looked back and I mouthed the words, "Are you okay?" and he nodded.

But as strong and admirable as my son's stoic, "the-game-must-go-on" attitude was, after the first pitch, his focus began to deteriorate. Ball after ball he threw--inside, outside, high, low. Twice he struck the batters and they walked to first base. I watched Cameron go from a proud, in-control stance to my little, hurting boy--and how badly I wanted to go out there and comfort him! I called out some reassuring things from the bleachers--but not too much, because I've learned that moms' voices on the field can be a bit embarrassing for 10-year-olds. The inning was agony; I kept wishing the coach would just take him out and let the other pitcher finish the inning. But the coach left him in, and Cameron kept throwing; the other team moved ahead on the scoreboard; and eventually, we heard, "Strike three! You're out."

When the game was over, I watched anxiously for Cameron to emerge from the dugout. He came out, still with a bit of a swagger in his gait. But as soon as he saw me, his eyes filled with tears, and he pointed to the huge goose-egg bruise just below his bottom lip. His lip was swollen and the inside of his cheek was cut. "I didn't want to spit out the blood," he said. "That's gross." I hugged him and mussed his hair, kissing him quickly on top of the head. We headed home, mom and her weary warrior. On the way, he described all his aches and pains and spilled out the worst moments of the game. "Everything hurts," he said. "Anything that anybody could ever be to be miserable, I'm it."

At home, I fixed him ice cream while he took a shower. When I tucked him in, I said, "You know, you had a really tough game tonight and a few bad breaks. But you fought valiantly, and you stuck it out. You should be proud of yourself for that."

He lifted his head off his pillow and looked at me with a crooked, swollen-lip smile. "Hey, that gives me something good to dream about!" he said, and nestled happily under his covers, ready for well-earned sleep.

For Cameron, this is just one event in a lifetime of what will no doubt be many unexpected happenings. We get hit by balls and beset by bills; we find ourselves in situations we didn't ask for, and we face problems we didn't create. We don't always have a cheering section, and we sometimes have no clue what to do next. But we know we are loved by One who does know--One who walks with us, helps us to see the good in any situation, and gives us the strength to stick it out. And at the end of the day, those words, "Well done," will erase all memory of the bumps and bruises we get on our way back home to Him.

Quick Wisdom

In unpacking one of the many catch-all boxes that have successfully made the move to my new office, I discovered a journal of unusual quotations that I'd read (and forgotten) long ago. I liked rereading them so much that I decided to post them...so if you'd like to take a look, click this link: Discoveries. Have a good weekend! :) k

The Process of Partnership with God

This is what's in my head this morning. Someone close to me is going through a rough time. I've been through similar situations in my own life, more than once, and I have been praying for clarity on how I can best help now. As I was writing in my journal a little while ago, I found myself replaying my own experience and some very clear steps I took (and continue to take) with God came into focus. I thought I'd share them with you, too.

When I am faced with a difficult situation I don't know how to resolve, I follow these general steps:

• I pray, listen carefully, and do exactly what I receive in prayer--immediately. In the prayer, I ask God to reveal to me anything I am doing to cause the circumstance and tell Him that with His help, I'll face it honestly and allow Him to show me how to heal it. (invite God in)
  
• I take full responsibility for my situation and accept it as a learning. (face myself clearly without judgment)
  
• I weed out self-pity at all costs because self-pity tells me that I'm powerless and a victim of the situation, which isn't true. (recognize the power of change is within me)
  
• I make sure I'm willing to do the work--and I do it, even if I don't want to. When God reveals something in me that is unhealthy, I immediately begin to apply what I learn. This takes self-discipline (which I often need to pray for help with) and humility (because I am often surprised that I have so much to learn). Luckily, God provides more of both of these things when we ask. I've learned that if I don't apply what I learn, the situation will continue or come back in another form until I do. (apply what I learn)
  
• I try to stay thankful for the experience, no matter how dark it seems, because it is drawing me closer to God and revealing those places in me that have not yet been healed by His light...but they will be. (be thankful)
  
• I watch for even the smallest signs of change and growth--and claim and give thanks for each one as it appears. This keeps me moving forward--I can see that God is leading me out of the situation, bit by bit. (watch for the good)
  
• I diligently step forward into that new place and refuse to be dragged back by fear or doubt into the place I'd been before. (claim each step and move forward)

This process with God has worked many times for me in many different circumstances--through divorce, financial troubles, illness, and more. You may have a much different process, but in the end we can all be sure that God will bring good from our situations in many ways. At the very least, the situation will be healed, God will be at the center of our lives, and we will have been given an experience and a witness of faith that one day may help another person find the path out of a dark valley.

Small Things, Faithfully Done

My brother and I had an interesting conversation yesterday. We're both old enough now (in our 40s) to talk with some perspective about life. We discussed the path of growing more peaceful--the sowing and reaping metaphor--and thought about how much the small things, faithfully done, help shape our days this week, next week, and next year. When I think of the things I do faithfully each day--care for my family, study about and talk to God, write about what I discover in faith and in the technical realm--I realize that I can see pretty clearly what I'm investing my love in for the future. And it fits me. I like it.

What do you do faithfully, each day? Those activities are building your tomorrows--they are an investment of your love and energy. I hope--for you, for your family, and for us all--that it's something that brings you joy. :) k

The Truth Does Set Us Free

This week, Christ stepped into a conversation I was having with a client who was struggling with his business communications. He offers a good service and people are always pleased with the work he does (they get more than they expect), but he continually wrestles with how he communicates what he does. He was so knotted up about ths issue that he couldn't see the simple. And that's what I'm always drawn to. I asked, "What's the truth about what you do?" He succinctly told me what he does for people. I told him what was in my heart: If you know what you offer and you tell the truth about it, you don't have to work so hard at pithy messages and consistent approaches. If you know there's something true, something clear, something focused about what you do, share that. And if you don't yet have that clarity, pray, meditate, walk in the woods, listen until you know what's true about you and what you offer people.

I remembered a friend who once told a small lie that escalated into a big one. The small lie--about where he went and who he went with--became a huge cover-up that eventually spread into all areas of his life. He spent so much time and energy trying to keep his partner from finding out about the lie that he began to feel as though his whole life was a lie. Finally, when his partner stumbled across one small piece of the lie, the whole story came out and both people were hurt and reeling by what began as a silly little lie.

When we are truthful with ourselves and others, we don't have to carry around past conversations, coverup stories, false faces, and exaggerated histories. We don't have to worry about what others may one day find out about us. We don't have to live looking back over our shoulders. We can simply stand wherever we find ourselves, doing our best in each situation, and moving forward. In this way, the truth really does set us free. When we live with truth as our priority, we are free to connect authentically with each other and we can be more open to the presence of God in every moment and every exchange.

Blessings on your day! :) k

Looking for Why

The other morning as I was driving Cameron to school, I noticed the faces of people driving--the person in my rear view mirror, the lady waiting to turn as I went by, the people in the cars in the oncoming lane. I was struck by the seemingly vast differences of us all--our backgrounds, our families, our careers, our hopes, our struggles--and I thought of all the diversity within each individual life. An affluent person today might have been hungry as a child. And that same person might experience financial struggles in the years to come. Some are healthy; some are not. Some have loving homes; some do not. Some have overcome the hurts and hurdles holding them back from childhood; some have not...yet.

As I thought about the very great differences in our lives, I also was aware of our sameness. As Bonhoffer said, "We are all equally in need of salvation." Throughout our lives, somehow, perhaps even unknowingly, we will be drawn closer to our loving Lord. Our circumstances--financial, health, relationship, and emotional--may simply be doors inward to the place where eternity, and eternal blessing, live in us. Looking at it that way, does it really matter that some people have more money, some have better health, and some better relationships than others? If our outward circumstances are the door inward to God, we can be happy that we each have doors of opportunity that take us closer to Him, no matter what those doors might look like.

So often when something goes wrong in our lives, we begin to look for reasons...searching for the why. The thinking is that if we do everything right, if we play by all the rules, watch our health, eat right, listen to our consciences, and pray regularly, nothing "bad" will happen. And then when something *does* happen, we feel, as Henri Nouwen says, that we are "living under the curse, instead of knowing our blessedness." But Jesus already explained how this whole curse-blessing thing works in relation to circumstances. When he was asked whether the man's blindness was due to his or his parents' sin, Jesus said, "Neither. This occurred so that the glory of God might be known."

So when someone falls from grace--Martha Stewart's empire is dismantled, the preacher's affair is discovered, a friend is diagnosed with cancer, or we lose a job, do we believe that the circumstance is simply an opportunity for God to make himself known, to that person and to us through them? Or do we look at their (or our) lives and say, "Well, we should have seen it coming. Power corrupts. Stress saps the immune system, and corporate America is only interested in the bottomline." The choice of vision is ours. What are we looking for? That's what we'll find. As for me, I'm going to reserve judgment and keep my eyes open and my heart awake, waiting for God to appear in the open door.

Being Poured Out

I begin each morning by "leaning on God's windowsill" awhile, spending time in the breakfast room, watching the sunlight touch and awaken the houses on the other side of the lake. I read from my favorite devotional books, I write in my journal, I think and pray. Yesterday morning I felt such a yearning to be doing more, and doing it more directly, for God. As I was praying about it, a sudden, clear thought emerged in the middle of my outwardly bound words: "Who is this 'I'?" And I was instantly made aware that I was telling God what I wanted Him to do. I wanted Him to provide the outlet for me to write more about Him; I wanted Him to bring the channels and outlets for sharing with more people; I wanted Him to let me know--in an unmistakable way--that I was doing what He wanted me to do...

Katherine, who is this 'I'?

I quickly felt a ripple of embarrassment, and then I began to pray--instantly, unintentionally--the words and thoughts just poured out without my looking for or forming them. It was odd and wonderful. One by one, people sprang to my heart and I lifted them up and into the light of God. I felt led to pray for some people I didn't even know as well as those I did. I felt a great love for each person as I prayed. For Kristy, who needs clarity in her career; for Andrew, who needs healing in his marriage. I don't know these people, and yet they sprang to mind and I prayed for them with all my might and let the prayers fly to God. I know it may sound strange, but that's what happened. I decided not to question it and simply lift whoever God put on my heart up to Him to do what He knows is best.

Perhaps that was the answer to my prayer...perhaps God was using me the way He saw fit and letting me know in an unmistakable way that it came from Him. I'm not sure. But I do know that I felt, for a brief moment, what it was like to be poured out for others...to let the well-defined and protected 'I' go and let my spirit relax and float along in the love of God. I cannot tell you that I understand these moments; only that I felt very blessed and felt that God was very close. So many small and miraculous gifts He gives us each day! May yours sparkle brightly for you today and draw you closer to Him. :)

Being Willing to be Revealed

There's a line from Rumi that says something like, "Even if all our friends are sleeping, we have to allow ourselves to awaken and move. Movement brings us to a new place where new learnings can come..." I'm finding that this move to a new house has also created internal movement in me. New awarenesses. Things inside are bubbling up in this new environment that I'd forgotten I had--or would like to forget. Things like feeling sorry for myself when I'm overworked; wanting to run away when I feel misunderstood; allowing myself to simply react to situations around me and feel powerless instead of taking responsibility for myself and my choices and remembering that it's within my power to say No at any given moment.

But God and I have an understanding. I'm willing to let Him reveal all these bumps and wrinkles and self-absorbed tendencies in me, but I ask Him to heal them and take them away. Up and out--revealed and dissolved. That's the plan. That's my intention. And that's what's going on. Seeing myself in this light isn't flattering, but when I remember that God's light shines away the darkness, I know He can illumine all the shadows of fear that still hide in the corners of my belief system about myself, about Him, about the world. If I accept all these revelations as opportunities for the touch of His healing love, I'll move through them gracefully, learning and loving and letting them go.

Blessings to you in your revelations today, as well. May He help us to regard ourselves with kindness and love as we allow ourselves to become more and more like Him. :) k

View from the Pew

I have a friend who sits in a different pew at church every week. Through the years, I've seen her bounce around from place to place. One week, she'll sit with me in my traditional spot (third row from the back, as far to the left as I can get); the next week she might be way up front or over on the other side. She told me once that she intentionally sits in the places of people who choose the same spot week after week (although she's taken occupied my place). She feels she's doing them a favor, breaking them out of their familiar routine, forcing them to experience worship from a different perspective. I always thought that was a bit pushy--I mean, why bump someone out of their seat who enjoys that feeling of comfortable sameness?

But this week I think differently. Because now, on the other side of my move to the new house, I can see that I had gotten so comfortable in my old surroundings that it was very difficult for me to move to a different place. My seat was chosen. My life was set. I liked my spot and even though the place I was moving to was a great blessing and something worth doing, my flexibility muscle had atrophied to the point that moving beyond the familiar was a great struggle for me. I've always thought of myself as very flexible and easy-going, but after this past week I know I need to change the "very" to "somewhat." I'd like to build back up to "very" so that I can accept with a smile and full gratitude whatever God has for me, wherever He wants to put me, however He wants things to look. I know in my heart that I really *don't* need things a certain way, at a certain time, in a certain pew. God is with us everywhere, every time, in all things. There is nothing we can do and nowhere we can go that is outside the love of God. So why do I cling to the familiar when I've got a relationship with the Known? I think I'll sit on the other side of the aisle next Sunday and find out. :) k

Life and Life Again

I'm writing to you from a new house. Funny how unsettling it is to move from one familiar set of surroundings to new territory. When I was younger I didn't get nearly so attached to places...my work often caused me to move from place to place; I didn't have strong family ties, so location wasn't central to my thinking. But today, with three kids (and several others I've adopted as my own), two dogs, two cats, a home business, neighbors, a church, friends, clients (oh, and a turtle), moving is a much bigger deal. I'm dug in. I'm connected every which way. I'm at least partially defined by those I see and know and visit with--I'm at least partially affirmed by my accomplishments at work, my vision of achievement, my understanding of the expectations of those around me. How much I need a strong inner remembering of "God with me"! How much I rely on knowing that God is opening these doors and then I step through them, listening carefully...how much I count on God preparing the way and blessing our moments--and our future--with his love. When the change-stress grips me, I take a deep breath and say "Thank you," for where I am, what I'm doing, who I love, and those who love me. My outer circumstances have changed, but God hasn't. Thank you, God, for reminding me. :) k

A Personal Equation

This thought occurred to me this morning: I know God loves me. People, I'm not always so sure about. But if I believe there is that of God in everyone (and I do), doesn't it follow that there is the spirit of Love, for me, inside each person I meet? Of what (or whom) then shall I be afraid?

All the Best

When I was a little girl, I spent hours pouring over pebbles. It didn't matter where--on the playground, sitting beside a creek, in a driveway, or in the yard. I was always fascinated by the shape and color of the small stones I found. Much to my mom's dismay, I often had pockets half-full of dirty white or pink treasures. The smooth, white pearly stones were special to me, but the pink stones--which may have been a kind of rose quartz--were my favorites. They meant something really good; they meant I was lucky to find them; they somehow told me I was blessed.

I have no idea why, but this feeling and activity--watching for signs of blessing in the common world around me--has grown with me into adulthood. Today when I see a cardinal, I think "God loves you." When I see a rainbow in the sky--particularly those morning and evening rainbows that appear in high clouds on sunny days--I remember with gratitude the many blessings we're given each day, but that we often miss. When I hear certain strains of music, feel another's genuine concern, watch the miracle of forgiveness happen right before my eyes, I know God is very close. In the past, some people have said I'm looking too closely at things--studying those stones for blessings. But for some reason, that's the way I'm made, and that's what I tend to do, in my life, in my work, internally and externally.

This morning after I dropped Cameron off at school, I was driving home through traffic. It was a perfect spring morning--I noticed the beauty around me and felt peaceful within. Suddenly inside, I heard: "All the best you believed is true," and I had an image of myself, gathering those wonderful little pink stones. I understood this to mean that all the times I hoped coincidences in my life were God communicating with me, it was Him. All the little messages I interpreted during a day's time to mean God was reminding me He was with me were true. All the best I believed--of God, of myself, of others--is real, and right, and eternal.

I hope this makes sense to you, wherever you are in your faith walk and however your draw God close in your day. All the best you believe of Him--and of yourself--is true. Next time you see a cardinal, or a pink stone, remember that.

With love :) katherine

A Moment

I have just finished reading The Practice of the Presence of God, by Brother Lawrence. Amazing, amazing. And attainable. I'm convinced. :) Then I ran across this quote, which made everything sparkle:

I held a moment in my hand,
brilliant as a star,
fragile as a flower,
a shiny sliver out of one hour.
I dropped it carelessly.
O God! I knew not I held an opportunity.
--Hazel Lee

May we each enjoy many precious moments today spent whole-heartedly in the presence of God. :) k

And then...Joy

Yesterday was packed. I had a list of about 10 errands to run, one chapter to write, and one chapter to edit. Plus it was Cameron's first day of baseball practice for the season and we had to get Christopher ready for a four-day high school trip to Dayton, Ohio (meaning he needed to find all the clothes he wanted to take so I could make sure they were washed and ready). My approach to days like this, when work and life entwine so much, it usually very methodical and logical. I make a list, I set priorities, I make a plan, and I carry it out, step by step. But yesterday, because the errands were scattered all over town, I was trying to figure out the best route, the best way to approach all these things and get them done before baseball practice. Instead of my logic kicking in, I just felt frustrated. I couldn't make sense of it. For some reason, a clear route wasn't emerging. At one point, I thought, "This is silly. Why can't I figure this out? I do this all the time..." and I prayed about it and tried to leave it with God to solve.

By 2:00, the answer hadn't occurred to me. I looked at my list of things to do and tried to put them in a smart order. My frustration grew. The only thing I knew to do was the first step. I knew I needed to get something notarized for my daughter so I could Fedex it to her by the end of the day. That was my priority. That's all I knew. So I started there.

The people at the bank were very friendly--I didn't have to wait, everyone was pleasant. I felt my spirits pick up. Walking out to the car, I knew what I needed to do next. So I did it. After that was completed, I knew which task to work on next. So I did that. By the time I picked up the boys from school, most of the errands were done and a surprise by-product had appeared in my day: Joy. The boys and I laughed and talked. We stopped and had a fun dinner together. I got the rest of the errands done and Cameron delivered to baseball practice (a half-hour early, in fact; I had the time wrong) and the feeling of joy stayed with me through the night and I still feel it today.

Amazing how something I struggled with, something I tried to turn loose to God, came back step-by-step to bless me in such a wonderful way. I could see no answer but the next step, but I know now, sitting here, that when I stepped forward into what I knew to do, the next step presented itself. This is a good lesson for me, because I'm a map-maker, a planner...I like to have the experience sketched out before I jump in. But God has another way. And it mixes my own skills with his guidance; my listening with his speaking; my trusting with his leading; and my action with his direction. Thanks for the object lesson, God! And for a productive--and joyful--day. :) k

And then...Peace

It's been such a busy time (this is an old refrain for me), and life sometimes seems to accelerate without my realizing it. One day I wake up feeling overwhelmed, out of time, edgy, and put-upon. The boys need to go here and there. I have this meeting and that meeting. A passel of deadlines pop up around me like spring flowers. My head hurts.

And then I remember God. And relief washes through me, along with the thought that, even in the midst of a busy life, my relationship with him is growing. I'm seeing him and feeling him more and more in my day. I think I'm beginning to understand "presence." The love I feel for others is ever at the ready--even for grumpy drivers and out-of-sorts clerks--and I know it's God changing me, loving me, healing me from the inside out. Life is good, right now. Life's seeming acceleration can seem to bring me stress for a moment, until I realize and embrace what's really going on in my life. I'm getting closer to God. And that's what I truly want.

Enjoy your day! :) k

The Soothing Voice of Prayer

This afternoon I received a newsletter from India, written on behalf of a holy woman known as Amma, "the hugging saint," who spreads a motherly divine love to all she meets. This quote particularly touched me:

Today, voices in protest against the on-going war are rising all around the world. The voice of prayer should rise along with the voices of protest. May that chorus of voices of prayer soothe the hearts of all. May there be peace and contentment everywhere, in everyone, always.

Amen and amen. :) k