Choices for healing

I've been coughing my way through this week with what turns out to be a sinus infection. I rarely get sick and even more rarely feel the need to go to the doctor for anything. I tend to think that the body is a pretty miraculous thing and that it (mostly) balances and heals itself if we don't get too much in the way with medicines and such. I'm not prescribing that approach for anyone else, of course--but that's how I tend to look at the care of my physical well-being: I go to the doctor only if I have to.

But this week things looked like I was heading down Have To Lane. My cough got worse and worse; I couldn't sleep; I couldn't eat. I finally decided that if I wanted to be well enough to enjoy Christmas with my family, I'd better go let the doctor tell me what's going on and prescribe something if needed. The diagnosis: sinus infection. And today, after 24 hours on the antibiotic, I feel about 85% better. Thank God.

This morning the passage I read was in Matthew 9, which was fitting. It was the story of Jesus saying to the paralyzed man, "Your sins are forgiven," and then, when the Pharisees gasped in shock and whispered, "Blasphemy!", he responded, "Which is easier, to say 'Your sins are forgiven,' or 'Get up and walk'?" So he then told the man to get up and go home, which he did, to the astonishment of all the people looking on.

After my bout with sickness this week, I looked at that passage a little differently. Instead of just marveling that Jesus was able to do that, I heard that we have choices about how we heal, and about how we help others find healing. For some, it's through church. For others, it's through the doctor. For still others, it's through alternative routes. Some people go directly to the spiritual or mental cause; others focus on solving the physical puzzle. I love that the path we choose for healing--or the channel by which wholeness returns to us--may be less important than the fact that we heal. That feels freer and more in line with a big-hearted, compassionate, Everywhere God.

Would you just please leave?

It seems to me that the eighth chapter of Matthew is all about  how people project all over Jesus, and what they project determines how much blessing they are able to receive from him.The chapter starts off with a man who has leprosy; he believes his healing is possible, and he believes Jesus is the guy to do it. "If you're willing," he says, "you can make me clean." Jesus tells him he is willing and the man is healed and whole.

Then the centurion comes along and asks for help because his servant at home is suffering terribly. Jesus feels compelled to go help the servant, but the centurion stops him (which is interesting in its own right) and says, "No need--you can just say the word and it will be done" (because God's words do not return void). Jesus is surprised and pleased by the centurion's faith, and the servant healed "at that very hour."

Then, in the boat with the disciples, a "furious storm" arose and the waves were sweeping over the boat. The guys woke Jesus in a panic, and he stretched and made a comment about their lack of faith, and then rebuked the waves and wind. I wonder what he did there, don't you? Did he take a big dramatic Moses pose and throw his arms up in the air and yell something boldly at the thrashing environment? Or did he simply lift his hand and make a simple, smoothing gesture, and all was calm? In any case, the disciples were baffled and likely a bit frightened by the power of the one in the boat with them.They asked, "What kind of *man* is this?" (emphasis mine; it's an important question!)

And finally, in the demons-to-pigs story, Jesus casts the evil spirits in two violent, demon-possessed men into a herd of pigs, which run crazily into the lake and drown (which makes me sad--poor, innocent pigs). Instead of marveling at the healing power of this visitor, the townspeople freaked out and "pleaded with him to leave their region." The commentary in my NIV says the people were more worried about their own possible financial losses than they were the healing or saving power that cleaned the psyche of those two miserable men. This resonates so much with me in terms of the personal cost our own healing may bring--if you get healthy, will it cost you the relationship you're in? If you begin treating customers more fairly, will you lose some of your income? If you give money to causes you care about, advocate for the disempowered, speak up for the voiceless, invite the rejected to your table, will someone, some place, or some system say to you, "Would you just please leave?"

The receptivity of our environment has so much to do with how our gifts are received, whether we are designing a web page for someone, ministering to the elderly, or reading a child a book. It took me years to grasp this. Whatever our actions, our own internal motivation is important (the clearer and the more compassionate, the better, I think), but the receptivity of the environment, which includes the type of image that is taking shape in that place and time--who do you say I am?--has a big shaping influence on the outcome. If someone has a mistaken idea of you, that thought shapes their relationship with you. If a group is not ready for an idea you suggest, chances are that your good idea won't blossom--right away, anyway. We're not "doing ministry" or "teaching others" or "serving the group" as though it's a one-way action that flows from us to them. We are co-creating, in every moment, a shared experience--you, me, others, the thought environment, the physical environment, and God.

Smiting and other miscommunications

Have you ever had a book let you know it's time to read it? I have had a George Muller biography for quite a while, but it sat on my bookshelf unopened. I bought the book after hearing about how Muller was able to care for 10,000 orphans in England in his lifetime and start a number of schools, without ever asking a single person for support. He literally prayed for all the support he and those in his care needed, and God provided, every single time. Muller knew what it was to live a life of prayer, and he was willing to keep after God, praying and listening, until he understood that his prayers were answered. A few days ago my attention was suddenly drawn to the book on my shelf and I knew it was time to read it. I picked it up and began scanning different pages, and then wondered what Wikipedia might say about Muller, which lead me to all of George's narratives, which are available free online (although you do have to create an account and log in to read them).

One of George's favorite practices was to read the Bible every day, reading at least one chapter from the Old Testament and one from the New Testament at each sitting. I've always loved the Bible (exegesis in seminary was one of my favorite courses, which surprised me!) and although I do read passages fairly often, I haven't done a consistent, daily study of it for years. [Note that I am aware as I write this that the Bible has gotten a bad rep because people often want to beat each other over the head with what they feel is true or not true about it and try to make others conform to their own interpretations. My own love of the Bible comes from what I would call an almost mystical sense of connection and "eye-opening" that arises as I read it--I consider it a gift from Spirit. I would never force my understanding of what I read on someone else; but I would invite you to read similar passages and hear what your heart and spirit says to you about them.]

As I began this daily practice, one of the first new ideas that leapt out at me had to do with the story of "the Fall." I've read Genesis over and over through the years (most recently as part of a course I teach in Eco-Spirituality), but one thing I never noticed before was the cause-and-effect aspect of God's action in the Garden of Eden. When God creates this lavish, abundant, perfect environment and places Adam and Eve in this lush landscape, God tells them about the Tree of Life and the Tree of the Knowledge of Good and Evil. God tells them not to eat of the Tree of Knowledge of Good and Evil "for you shall surely die," but he doesn't put any constraints on the Tree of Life. Eat away! Life forever! I want you here in the Garden with me for eternity because you are so much in harmony with me--we will be great companions, living and walking and talking here.

And then the serpent comes along and calls God a liar, telling Eve, "you won't die--you'll have so much understanding that you'll be like God!" And with that seed of distrust planted in Eve's mind, she wonders about God's motives and decides that it's worth the risk--she eats the fruit. And it tastes good! She shares it with Adam. And their eyes are opened, and they see they are naked and they are ashamed and they hide from God. They are no longer in harmony with the divinity that created them--a new vibration has begun which has already separated them from living in awareness of All Good.

Perhaps it's their new-found knowledge of good and evil that causes them to fear God, the one who created them and gave them every abundant thing. Did they project their own inner guilt onto God, turning God into a wrathful, tricking tyrant? What images were now in their heads as a result of believing that good and evil could exist in their former paradise?

What happens next is heartbreaking, I think more for God than for Adam and Eve. God tells them they must leave the Garden--God can't have them ruining all of paradise by running around dividing everything into Good and Evil categories. God has already handled that--God created it all and named it Good! Plus the fact that they now look for evil and distrust creation means that they will likely create all sorts of drama in their lives, so God has to put a limit on the whole Tree of Life thing. They will need a rest after a few hundred years of ego-centric experience-making. So cherubim are put in the Garden to guard the Tree of Life so that Adam and Eve can no longer eat its fruit.

And you know what? Because their access to the Tree of Life is blocked, Adam and Eve will no longer life forever. God's statement about avoiding the fruit of the Knowledge of Good and Evil is now the effect of their distrustful act: "You will surely die." Not immediately, and not next Tuesday, but at the end of your days, there will be a limit on your existence. You are now mortal. That momentary distrust has widened and hardened into a gulf between God and people; they will no longer walk together in the cool of the evening and experience the same level of trustful connection they had just hours ago.

And then God makes them clothes--such a tender resignation/preparation for the existence they have chosen for themselves!--a sad, gentle attempt at care by a God who would develop a reputation for smiting just a few chapters later. It makes me wonder--is smiting really a part of God's nature? Or a result of ingesting the LSD of the Knowledge of Good and Evil? Because suddenly people feel threatened and judged and they make God angry and they need to offer sacrifices (what? kill the life God so beautifully just created?) to win God's favor. It all leaves me wondering what God looked like to us before we ate from that damned tree. If there was never an interruption in trust, if you still walked in the Garden in the cool of the day with God, if the fall had never happened for you, what would that feel like right now?

Earth intention

What comes up for me when I ask what my intention is has nothing to do with far-distant time but is that my actions today might be in harmony with what brings about a healthier, better loved planet so that no more trees have to suffer, no more species go extinct, rivers can run clear, villages are safe, children have clean air to breathe, and people feel a real living connection with the earth. The result might come soon or not-so-soon, but I want my actions today to be in alignment with that ideal of alleviated suffering and restored harmony.

And one day, life :)

I'm feeling a kind of rolling blessing inside today, a big beautiful cloud of quiet joy that is edged with a lining of contentment. It's funny to me that these words and all the emotions connected to them bubble up so clearly now, because I awoke with that "I'm behind!" feeling, aware that almost all the projects I'm involved in at the moment (eight of them at once! Unthinkable) range from a little behind schedule to a lot behind schedule.

That's not like me, as I have known "me" in the past. Deadlines have been non-negotiable lines in the sand. You just make them. It doesn't matter whether you have to work all night, or skip meals, or forget to take the dogs out (sorry, dogs). You just have to make those deadlines. That keeps food on the table and the roof over your family's head and besides, you gave your word. Your agreement to those deadlines is your bond.

Except grace comes and hangs around, haunting you. And one day, it moves into your space. And life curls its breezy little finger at you and you have to go see what party it's inviting you to. Years ago I didn't have room for this type of grace in my work. I did have a place for it in my life--usually with my kids--but that playful, life-arising energy had to sit outside in the hall when I was working. I was too busy for exploring. I had deadlines to meet.

And deadlines are still important to me today, but the beckoning finger that life used to draw me hesitantly out into the sunshine before has become a living force within me. It moves me now and causes me to throw my arms open and breathe in, deeply, and damn the deadlines (for the moment). It offers me choices and directs me when it can, and somehow it has become a stronger energy than the tight, clamped down, gotta-do-it energy I used in the past to keep a tight grasp on my projects.

I can't explain it except to say that life has moved in, somehow, and animated the moments, bringing joy and warmth and energy to everything--my teaching, my speaking, even my technical writing. For that matter, I can write a check today and feel attuned to spirit moving. It's a beautiful, wonderful thing--an almost inexpressible richness of being. A swelling, swirling, beautiful cloud of life arising right now, and right now, and right now.

Of course I have to deal with my deadlines, and of course I need to finish my projects, and I will. But it's so infinitely much better to feel connected to the spirit of creation--with all its love and joy and color and possibility--while I do.

I am grateful. :)

Creating the day

I've been thinking a lot lately about the images we create in our heads--or perhaps, I should say *I* create in my head, although I think it's a pretty universal tendency--and then react against them. For example, this morning I woke up with anxiety running around inside me. The images popping into my brain almost right away had to do with deadlines, and expectations, and responsibilities. How would I get it all done? I'd better leap right out of bed and get busy!

But I noticed that anxiety was driving the start of my day, and I decided I wanted to reset things and start over. So I prayed to release that "image of lack" that was making me want to spring into action during a time when I normally pray and meditate and do yoga. I wondered what positive gift would fill that hole left by the now-erased "image of lack," and a sense of creation popped in there.

Okay, I create my day. I've heard that a thousand times. Maybe today I can get closer to understanding that and seeing the effects. So as I started my morning, I decided to choose as a kind of mantra/affirmation that I have what I need ("no lack") to create my day. So my inner mantra was a kind of Q&A session:

Do I have the courage I need to create my day? Yes.
Do I have the knowledge I need to create my day? Yes.
Do I have the desire I need to create my day? Yes.
Do I have the support I need to create my day? Yes.

These questions help me fill that former "image of lack" with the very real tools I have for creating my day, affirming that the power flows through me to create a day in harmony with God's principles of love, peace, honesty, goodness, and abundance. I am hopeful for the day ahead, and look forward to that moment when I turn off the light, feeling "this was a good day." I will let you know! :)

The beauty of bread labor

A friend and I went to our State Fair yesterday and had a wonderful, dusty, hot afternoon visiting cows and lambs, pigs and horses. We saw the old farm equipment and stopped to talk to a blacksmith. We ran into a few friends and laughed and chatted like people who have nothing better to do on a Wednesday afternoon. On the way home, we talked about honest work. Simple, meaningful tasks you do with your hands to create a life. So much of what we do now is head work, intellectual figuring, technology wrangling, web wrestling. It's not tangible labor that makes us sweat and gives us something solid to see for our efforts. This summer I've been spending a lot of time doing things that have more connection to "reality"--baking bread, making my own yogurt, learning how to can jams and vegetables. It feels so good! There is something immediate and contactful about it. And I feel that *all of me* is involved in the effort--not just my head, and not just my skills. It feels like a whole experience.
I just ran across this page where Ghandi is talking about the sacredness of "bread labor," and after this wonderfull--and wonder-full--summer, I think I know what he means.

Rolling the Stone Away

I hope wherever you are in the world and whatever tradition you claim as your own, you had a beautiful day filled with life and love yesterday. I attended my Quaker meeting in the morning and our pastor (my meeting is semi-programmed) spoke about the immediacy of the presence of God in our midst...how the resurrection is really about Life not in the past but Now. A wonderful message.

I left envisioning that moment in the story when Mary goes to the tomb and the rock has been rolled away. The one she's looking for is no longer there. I was thinking, "what have I entombed in my life that isn't there anymore?" Perhaps saving love for a special someone. Maybe holding back from telling the whole story. Maybe keeping a rein on my own creativity. Perhaps clinging to old stories that no longer fit.

What have you entombed in your life as "that's the way it is" or "welcome to my life"? Perhaps if you really look, you'll see the rock has been rolled away and all that energy is free now, out in the world blessing others, flying to the points on the globe where it can do the most good.

Epiphanies

In honor of the 58th anniversary of Thomas Merton's epiphany (shown below), the Merton Institute of Contemplative Living invited people to share their own epiphany moments. The result is a set of PDF files with more than 100 entries. The stories are uplifting and hopeful--if you have a moment, check it out.

In Louisville, at the corner of Fourth and Walnut, in the center of the shopping district, I was suddenly overwhelmed with the realization that I loved all those people, that they were mine and I theirs, that we could not be alien to one another even though we were total strangers. It is a glorious destiny to be a member of the human race ... there is no way of telling people that they are all walking around shining like the sun.

I suddenly saw the secret beauty of their hearts, the depths of their hearts where neither sin nor desire nor self-knowledge can reach, the core of their reality, the person that each one is in God's eyes. If only they could all see themselves as they really are. If only we could see each other that way all of the time. There would be no more war, no more hatred, no more cruelty, no more greed...

Thomas Merton, Conjectures of a Guilty Bystander, 1996

Daily blossom of mindfulness

Hi everyone, I hope you're having a good March! I created the PDF available at the following link after reading a beautiful online interview with Thich Nhat Hahn. I thought it would be wonderful to print the reflection and put it where I will read it each morning as I'm preparing for my day. What more do we need? A grateful and graceful life full of compassionate action. Beautiful. :)

Download Mindfulness Makes Life Beautiful and Meaningful

Thinking of friends in Santiago...

Promises for you...

He will cover you with his feathers,
and under his wings you will find refuge;
his faithfulness will be your shield and rampart.

...and...

For he will command his angels concerning you
to guard you in all your ways;
they will lift you up in their hands,
so that you will not strike your foot against a stone.

-- Psalm 91:4 and 91:11-12

Spiritual direction(s)

It is interesting how life continues to shape us (as we shape life) and bring happy new possibilities and opportunities for growth. Not long ago a friend who is also a family therapist recommended a dear client to me for spiritual direction, and that sweet event planted a seed that is blossoming into a spiritual direction practice. This is a natural outgrowth of my time in seminary (with an MDiv in pastoral care and counseling), my years as an on-call chaplain for two Indianapolis hospitals, and the observing and living and writing I do here on this blog (as well as on my Narrative blog and Scribd publications).

• Here is my practice statement
  
• Here is my privacy policy

Fascinating, growing, wonderful things...blossoming in love. What is your heart whispering to you today? Take a minute to listen quietly...I'll bet whatever it is, it points you in the direction of Joy. :)

I *heart* Albert Einstein

Whether you interpret this quote through a Christian, Buddhist, Taoist, naturalist, environmentalist, genealogical, historical, or quantum physics lens, it whispers come out and play...

“A human being is part of a whole, called by us the Universe, a part limited in time and space. He experiences himself, his thoughts and feelings, as something separated from the rest a kind of optical delusion of his consciousness. This delusion is a kind of prison for us, restricting us to our personal desires and to affection for a few persons nearest us. Our task must be to free ourselves from this prison by widening our circles of compassion to embrace all living creatures and the whole of nature in its beauty.” --Albert Einstein

Manifesting what we hope for

I've been thinking a lot lately (really, always) about our ability to create. A number of years ago, I heard someone say, "If you want to see what your own thought looks like, look around." This was a profound statement for me. Look at my relationships; look at my house; look at my work; look at my dreams. What did my thoughts look like? What was currently manifesting in my life? If it wasn't exactly what I was hoping for in my heart, did I have some blocks to break through in that area?

That idea has stayed with me all these years and I can look around today and see and know that I do in fact have great shaping power on my own life. I'm not saying there are no other influences, but perhaps the volume on those other influences can be turned down (or off) depending on how well I am able to lovingly manage and direct my creative thought. I can see how my own beliefs about certain things have created barriers (that could and can be dissolved) to some aspects of wholeness I am still opening to.

I've watched movies like The Secret and What the Bleep Do We Know? and I love the creative power they represent and the ideas they hold out to us--that perhaps the ability to create loving, harmonious, beautiful lives is truly within us. My own developing thoughts and beliefs need to put all that creative potential in the context of divine relationship--I want what I create in my life to be the expression of God; creations in line with truth, beauty, goodness, wholeness, kindness, and peace.

To get a clearer picture of both my intention to create and the result (I often skate right on by the result and move to the next thing, which keeps me feeling like I never reach any destination), I created this simple form yesterday to help me identify (1) the idea I want to manifest; (2) whether the environment is supportive for that idea right now or not; and (3) what actions I need to take to make it happen. Seems simple, right?

The big aha for me was in realizing that creating something doesn't just involve an idea and effort--it also needs a supportive environment, which I haven't always had for the things I wanted to create. I'd have the idea and dive right into the effort, working and working and working at something, without noticing that the right supports weren't present to support the idea's growth. Maybe others weren't cooperating. Perhaps I didn't really have the time. It could have been any number of things. But I recognize that my own pattern is to throw myself head-long into projects and then work really hard--maybe even harder--if the environment doesn't have the support I need to reach the goal.

Well, no more. This form helps me assess the supportiveness of the environment, as well as crystalize the idea, plan my action, and then name and celebrate the result. Let's see what happens! Here's the form in case you want to try something similar, too. If you use the form and find that it's helpful (or not, really), post a comment or write to me and let me know--I'd love to hear about your experience, too.

Happy Friday!

I am grateful to the earth

From "This Is Where We Live," by Pablo Neruda, in The Poetry of Pablo Neruda:

I am grateful to the earth
for having waited
for me
when sky and sea came together
like two lips touching;
for that's no small thing, no?--
to have lived
through one solitude to arrive at another,
to feel oneself many things and recover wholeness.

Responding to a crisis

The pastor of my Quaker meeting sent me a postcard after I first visited the church, ten years ago now. It says

I Am a Quaker.
In Case of Emergency
Please Be Quiet.

That postcard is still hanging right here in my line of sight, just over my monitor. It hangs there in large part because it says something true about who I am and how I approach things. When life speeds up too much, when crises come, when friends struggle, my first instinct is to slow down, to pray, to listen carefully, to tune into my heart.

Here's what we know about crisis:

• Crisis throws your normal way of doing things up in the air.
• Crisis can bring panic.
  
• Crisis interrupts what you know about your life or yourself and makes you scramble to figure out what to do next.
  
• You feel out of control in a crisis.
  
• It's hard to see clearly in a crisis.
  
• Emotions are very loud in a crisis, and problem-solving (which comes more from the rational parts of our brains) has trouble being heard.
  
• Crisis often involves others as well as you, so you are dealing with the chaotic feelings and fears of many people--not just your own.
  
• Our sense of "shoulds" can get stirred up in a crisis ("I should be handling this better," or "I shouldn't cry," or "My dad would have known what to do about this--but I don't.")

So what constitutes a crisis? Often we think of a crisis as something horrible--a car wreck, a divorce, a lost job, a bankruptcy, an illness. Yes, crisis can be triggered by all of those things, but you can also get thrown into crisis in the middle of good or growth-inducing things as well:

• you get married
  
• you find that job you've been looking for
  
• you have a baby
  
• you start training for a new position
  
• you buy a great new house
  
• you take a major step toward a new dream

In short, any time you step boldly--or get thrown--into the unknown, you can feel lost, uncertain, and unsure of what to do next. You are out of your comfort zone, and that can potentially trigger a crisis response.

Some situations resolve all on their own--you get used to the new job, you fall in love with your baby, your dream gains momentum and you feel more confident about it. In those situations, some simple techniques can help us support ourselves while crisis situations are working themselves out:

• take three deep breaths and exhale completely;
• say a favorite prayer or mantra;
• focus your eyes intentionally on one beautiful thing and really feel it;
• use an old EMDR trick to look straight ahead and then move your eyes first as far left as you can and then far right. Doing this a few times gets each side of your brain talking to the other, which increases oxygen and helps you feel more able to problem solve;
• recount the facts of the situation to yourself or others. This anchors the situation to what's really happening and turns down the volume on the fears, anxieties, and "what ifs";
• begin naming everything you can think of to be grateful for. I know this one sounds difficult, especially if there's a lot of upset in the situation, but I'm convinced that there is always something to be grateful for--even if it's only that you don't have to face the circumstance alone (which is a major blessing).

When the crisis situation is too big or threatening--or you simply need or want some extra support--reach out to people around you. Your pastor or spiritual leader knows how to be with you in crisis; your doctor can recommend a counselor; various agencies can offer a collection of resources. Spiritual direction also helps us explore where we draw the resources to meet the crises in our lives. There is always another view--God's view--and being open to that view, even in the midst of a chaotic and scary time, can bring peace, and calm, and healing.

Many blessings--beauty, joy, peace, and light--right where you are today!

That peaceful easy feeling

This morning something strange happened. It was before dawn. The candle was burning. I slowly--mindfully--moved through the yoga-t'ai chi routine I've done for years. Somewhere around the warrior pose, I felt a sense of profound quiet--inside and out. I continued the slow movements, in time with that felt sense. Completing the yoga, I settled on the floor as usual for a few moments of meditation. I sat, said a prayer of blessing, and heard myself think, "I'm listening, God."

And then...nothing.

Quiet. Peace. Silence. Stillness.

Breath.

No fluttering thoughts. No straining muscles or awareness of my breath. No internal to-do list took shape. No thoughts about deadlines, or expectations, or plans.

Quiet. Peace. Silence. Stillness.

I raised my hands to my face slowly, and felt the contact of my fingers on my cheeks. I smiled in the darkness. No, I wasn't having a stroke. I was just non-anxious.

My cycling mind was at rest. My body was at rest. My spirit was listening.

Strange, wonderful, beautiful, nourishing.

I hope to do it again tomorrow. :)

Enjoy your day!

Everything present

I've been thinking a lot about our own personal influence in the way our days unfold. How much do we actually co-create, and how much (if anything) happens outside our control? I'm fascinated with the circumstances, situations, emotions, and interactions that seem to arise unbidden in our days. Where do they come from? Where do they go? What is being expressed? How am I contributing?

Yesterday it occurred to me that perhaps all emotions are present in any given situation, much light all light waves are present and all audio waves are present. I've heard it said that sound waves are all around us all the time, but we need to be tuned to them--or have the right receiver--before we will be able to hear them. I've heard something similar about colors and light--all colors are present in all light, but we have to have the right objects and the right amount of light in order to see the colors clearly.

What if all our emotions are already present in our surroundings, like light and sound? If emotions are simply energies, with a personal twist, or coming through a personal receiver, it isn't such a farout thought to imagine that we might be expressing certain emotions for somebody else or simply as a mouthpiece for our environment. Have you ever felt "mad" for someone else? Have you caught someone else's tiredness? Do you feel your spirit lift when you hear someone else laugh? Perhaps our emotions are not our "own" but part of the expression of life that is happening within us and around us in any given moment.

Pray to God and row to shore

This quote appeared in a newsletter I received this morning, and it occurred to me that I understood it differently than I did the last time I heard it, which was years ago. The question of our agency--how much do I do, and how much does God do?--has always been a struggle for me. As an independent, self-employed writer, I tend to conceptualize, plan, and produce something on my own. I work well that way, when it comes to books and articles and web content. But for the larger, life-impacting things, for organic life-blossoming possibilities, for love and healing and grace and unfolding, the lines of agency seem much fuzzier to me.

When I first heard "Pray to God and row to shore" years ago, it meant to me that the action was really all up to me. God wanted things to turn out well for me, of course, and was there for me to talk to (and listen to) when I needed the support and encouragement. But when push came to shove, it all depended on my choices and actions. So I continued to live that way, trying real hard, working real hard, taking everything pretty seriously with all the earnestness a stoic work ethic requires.

But today I heard this phrase differently. I'm glad to say there must be a lot more grace within and around me. It's certainly present in my thinking. Today "Pray to God and row to shore" means simply that my actions need to blossom naturally from my beliefs. They need to be in alignment with the beliefs so the beliefs can manifest in my life. When I believe God is good, that God is caring for me, that God is at work in my situation, I can act with gentleness, confidence, peace, patience. When I say I believe God is good, caring for me, and at work in my situation and then feel burdened and overwhelmed and work myself half to death trying to solve something, my actions are not in line with my beliefs. It's not all up to me. That's the opposite of my inner beliefs.

That's worth at least one hallelujah. Thank God for growth in grace and understanding! May your own discoveries today help you relax into these Loving Arms that uphold us all.

Kinship with all life

“Look at the animals roaming the forest: God’s spirit dwells within them. Look at the birds flying across the sky: God’s spirit dwells within them. Look at the tiny insects crawling in the grass: God’s spirit dwells within them. Look at the fish in the river and the sea: God’s spirit dwells within them. There is no creature on earth in whom God is absent. ..When God pronounced that his creation was good, it was not only that his hand had fashioned every creature; it was that his breath had brought every creature to life. Look too at the great trees of the forest; look at the wild flowers and the grass in the fields; look even at your crops. God’s spirit is present within all plants as well. The presence of God in all living things is what makes them beautiful; and if we look with God’s eyes, nothing on earth is ugly.”

Beautiful! From Pelagius, in Listening for the Heartbeat of God: A Celtic Spirituality, by J. Philip Newell