Can I show you where we can go together? Can I dance with you, grab hold of your hand, my fingers clasped around your palm? You are graceful when you dance with me. You are free, your steps light and sure. You plant each foot firmly into soil. You know this ground, this earth. The floor is level and you respond, fully, to my subtle hints at what will be the next move to make.
You trust Me. You know Me. You want to be with Me. You know who you are and your burden is light and your smile is radiant and your eyes shine.
I came to the end of the sidewalk
was wondering which way I should go
There were gates for each road all around me
The signs up above were all flashing to show…
They read…this way
and that way
and his way
and her way
There was your way
and my way
and right way
and wrong way
I stood at the end of the end of the sidewalk
It was all so confusing I struggled to know
Which gate was the one I should enter
Which road was the one to lead me back home…
Cause there was
high way
and by way
low way
and long way
There was which way
and what way
there was fast way
and slow way
Then I saw a small sign near the bottom
It wasn’t flashing or bright
But this sign it caught my attention
Cause this one pointed towards LIFE…
Some signs read short way
and one sign said no way
one was blinking far away
all the way to the milky way
there was dream way
and scream way
There was wander way
and squander way
But this road it had a small entrance
Not many had gone through before
The gate was all rusted and creaky
Had to knock just to open that door…
It was dark and a little bit lonely
There was just a small lamp for to see
It took me awhile to adjust to the style
For this road was far greater than me
Cause it’s Your way
not my way
It’s a new way
towards life way
The longer I walked, I saw better
Though it never got easier to see,
But this road lead right where I followed
cause Life was the journey, you see…
ACL 2/7/15
Diamond Road…Sheyl Crow
Walk with me the diamond road
Tell me every story told
Give me something of your soul
That I can hold onto
I want to wake up to the sound of waves
Crashing on a brand new day
Keep the memory of your face
But wipe the pain away
When you¹re lonely (you¹re not alone)
When you¹re heart aches (on Diamond Road)
It’s gonna take a little time
Yeah, it’s gonna take a little time
When the night falls (you’re not alone)
When you’re stumbling (on Diamond Road)
It’s gonna take a little time
To make it to the other side
So don’t miss the diamonds along the way
Every road has led us here today
Little bird, what’s troubling you
You know what you have to do
What is yours you’ll never lose
And what’s ahead may shine
Beneath the promise of blue skies
With broken wings we’ll learn to fly
Pull yourself out of the tide
And begin the dream again
When you¹re lonely (you¹re not alone)
When you¹re heart aches (on Diamond Road)
It’s gonna take a little time
Yeah, it’s gonna take a little time
When the night falls (you’re not alone)
When you’re stumbling (on Diamond Road)
It’s gonna take a little time
To make it to the other side
So don’t miss the diamonds along the way
So don’t miss the diamonds along the way
Every road has led us here today
Won’t you shine on
Morning light
Burn the darkness away
Walk with me the Diamond Road
Tell me everything is gold
Give me something of your soul
So you don¹t fade away
When you¹re lonely (you¹re not alone)
When you¹re heart aches (on Diamond Road)
It’s gonna take a little time
Yeah, it’s gonna take a little time
When the night falls (you’re not alone)
When you’re stumbling (on Diamond Road)
It’s gonna take a little time
To make it to the other side
So don’t miss the diamonds along the way
Don’t miss the diamonds along the way
Every road has led us here today
Life is what happens while you¹re making plans
All that you need is right here in your hands.
Matthew 7
7 “Ask and it will be given to you;seek and you will find; knock and the door will be opened to you.8 For everyone who asks receives; the one who seeks finds; and to the one who knocks, the door will be opened.
13 “Enter through the narrow
gate. For wide is the gate and broad is the road that leads to destruction, and many enter through it. 14 But small is the gate and narrow the road that leads to life, and only a few find it.
The Empire of God has no headquarters,
nor will there be a Final Battle.
God’s desire is more than saving selected souls:
it is the healing of the nations,
the mending of the whole world.
But there is no Situation Room
from which this campaign is directed.
The Spirit of healing and compassion,
the work of redemption and justice
is done in every little village and town.
Every heart is the center of the movement.
Every life, every act—your life, this day—
is where Christ works.
It is for this that you were born;
“that is what you came out to do.”
You don’t need to do great miracles.
The world is transformed in very small bits,
village by village, one moment at a time.
You are the message.
__________________
Steve Garnaas-Holmes
Unfolding Light http://www.unfoldinglight.net
in an imperfect world helplessness, acceptance and surrender are the defining words of love
Next to grace, I bet God thinks making us need each other was one of his best ideas.
– Bob Goff
There’s this progressive shedding that has happened as I walk into my own being. Being responsible for ONLY my own life is an ever challenging, evolving process.
Several years ago, much to my surprise, I found some people just didn’t like me. No real reason even, just a vibrant dislike vibe when I walked in. I am super sensitive and my nature is to want to be liked. Yup, I’m a giant people pleaser! My progress has evolved over years of learning, and is still a work in process.
Many years ago I would twist myself into weird shapes and do anything to make the other like me, then I slowly learned to allow it to be and not prove myself, or force anything. It has been a gradual, sometimes extremely painful, learning.
Parallel to that, there has been this great and mighty internal work going on, and as I have shed yesterday and baby-step by baby-step learned tiny, mind blowing truths about what love really looks like, I have also been growing into my own voice.
It’s a rather unexpected thing for me, it’s scary and challenging, and yet essential for me to step into my calling. my purpose here.
I am being called to share my experiences in walking this path. Called to be vulnerable and speak as myself. Now, when people don’t like me, I can’t fully say, ‘Well, they really don’t know me at all. They haven’t encountered the real me’, because, more and more of myself is becoming visible.
I feel very alone. I feel unprepared. I feel unworthy. I feel I’m not good enough. I feel afraid of many things, rejection is one of the biggies.
What I know for sure is…none of these feelings matter. This is bigger than me and I cannot say no. What I have gained is too valuable not to share.
Anyway, this has come out different and longer than I expected when I started writing. I am crying so I know it is what I need to say.
I just ask you to pray for me.
If you are reading this, you are a fellow pilgrim. Thank you for sharing this moment on path with me.
As we say in Kentucky to friends as we go our separate ways for a moment, ‘Ya’ll come see us soon, don’t be a stranger.’
on the edge of flying
the verge of breaking through
standing in the pouring rain
hoping to find you
somewhere in the darkness
of this dark and stormy night
questions with no answers
crash upon my soul
the fires of hell rage on
bloody battles all around
as I stand within this pain
hoping to find faith in something
in this dark and stormy night
at the end of living
not knowing what to do
lightning strikes, the fire burns,
tears, that match the weather,
flooding from my soul
releasing from this moment –
there’s work for me to do –
now I fly
ACL 2/2/15
Darkness deserves gratitude. It is the alleluia point at which we learn that all growth does not take place in the sunlight.
– Joan D. Chittister
…everyone is involved, whether they like it or not, in the construction of their world. So, it’s never as given as it actually looks; you are always shaping it and building it. And I feel that from that perspective, that each of us is an artist. Secondly, I believe that everyone has imagination. That no matter how mature and adult and sophisticated a person might seem, that person is still essentially an ex-baby. And as children, we all lived in an imaginal world. You know, when you’ve been told don’t cross that wall, because there’s monsters over there, my god, the world you would create on the other side of the wall.
– John O’Donohue http://www.onbeing.org/program/inner-landscape-beauty/transcript/1125
King Lear
THERE WOULD BE a strong argument for saying that much of the most powerful preaching of our time is the preaching of the poets, playwrights, novelists because it is often they better than the rest of us who speak with awful honesty about the absence of God in the world and about the storm of his absence, both without and within, which, because it is unendurable, unlivable, drives us to look to the eye of the storm. I think of King Lear especially with its tragic vision of a world in which the good and the bad alike go down to dusty and, it would seem, equally meaningless death with no God to intervene on their behalf, and yet with its vision of a world in which the naked and helpless ones, the victims and fools, become at least truly alive before they die and thus touch however briefly on something that lies beyond the power of death. It is the worldly ones, the ones wise as the world understands wisdom and strong in the way the world understands strength, who are utterly doomed. This is so much the central paradox of Lear that the whole play can be read as a gloss if not a homily on that passage in First Corinthians where Paul expresses the same paradox in almost the same terms by writing, “God chose what is foolish in the world to shame the wise. God chose what is weak in the world to shame the strong. God chose what is low and despised in the world, even things that are not, to bring to nothing things that are” (1 Corinthians 1:27-28), thus pointing as Shakespeare points to the apparent emptiness of the world where God belongs and to how the emptiness starts to echo like an empty shell after a while until you can hear in it the still, small voice of the sea, hear strength in weakness, victory in defeat, presence in absence.
I think of Dostoevski in The Brothers Karamazov when the body of Alyosha’s beloved Father Zossima begins to stink in death instead of giving off fragrance as the dead body of a saint is supposed to, and at the very moment where Alyosha sees the world most abandoned by God, he suddenly finds the world so aflame with God that he rushes out of the chapel where the body lies and kisses the earth as the shaggy face of the world where God, in spite of and in the midst of everything, is.
-Originally published in Telling The Truth http://m.frederickbuechner.com/
If I could lift that corner of sunlight that slants
that cuts a dashing swath of burnt yellow across the room,
I would swirl it around without a care and toss it
across my shoulders and breathe in its warmth,
its musty breathe redolent with time without end.
I would huddle within its glorious arms, sinews melting,
You who are the source of all power,
Whose rays illuminate the world,
Illuminate also my heart
So that it too can do Your work.
🙏🙏🙏🙏🙏🙏🙏🙏🙏🙏🙏
While reciting this prayer, visualize the sun’s rays streaming forth into the world, entering your heart, then streaming from your heart’s center back into the world.
💞💞💞💞💞💞💞💞💞💞💞
On the day I died
water ran through pipes,
footsteps identified people in the house and
the dogs nails clicked quickly on the wood floors above my head,
insisting it was time to go out for relief.
I still needed coffee,
light with cream,
2 sugars.
The sun was bright
and I remember the sky was that deep blue,
romantically named, azurite.
There was cockscomb,
half alive in pots near the wooden footbridge I walked over.
I used to love them when I was alive.
I touched their red, velvety, blooms seeking to feel something.
I mistook fluttering angel wings for birds,
battles fought,
just beyond where I lay
on the words of Wendell Berry –
the only thread
keeping me tethered to this world.
I sat on benches beside ghosts
of those gone before me.
I could still only feel them beside me,
I was in the world between worlds.
There was darkness, a fire swamp, screaming, clashes of swords,
I could not save myself.
God was everywhere.
I found myself in a boat,
where I stayed for 2 years, until,
in recent weeks,
the call came to step out,
to start walking on water.
Late in the day,
I stood in the bathroom,
accepting the most insulting job offer I have ever received,
then sat on a stool,
trying to act as if I was alive,
pretending to look for puzzle pieces,
slightly aware of the colors and shapes,
singing echoes of songs I used to love,
with my beautiful Robin,
who seemed very much alive.
ACL 1/21/15
I
In his little boat the fisherman
floats out on a deep
mystery that provides.
His net woven of many strands
is a gathering, for gathering.
He casts it into dark waters
and hauls in light.
Not for himself
but those hungry in the village,
from the unseen he offers
sustenance.
II
The fly fisher admires the river,
runs her eyes along its surface
like her hands on fine furniture.
She sees beneath into the depths
and sees unseen the beauty flashing,
knows without knowing
the life given there.
Not with will to overpower
but adoration of the holy
she casts, she works the fly
and waits
for the communicating tug,
the splendor rising.
With this focus,
not to catch but to evoke,
not to control but to connect,
she loves people,
and seeks out the grace
flashing beneath their eyes,
the love
rising in them.
__________________
Steve Garnaas-Holmes
Unfolding Light http://www.unfoldinglight.net
Go and open the door.
Maybe outside there’s
a tree, or a wood,
a garden,
or a magic city.
Go and open the door.
Maybe a dog’s rummaging.
Maybe you’ll see a face,
or an eye,
or the picture
of a picture.
Go and open the door.
If there’s a fog
it will clear.
Go and open the door.
Even if there’s only
the darkness ticking,
even if there’s only
the hollow wind,
even if
nothing
is there,
go and open the door.
At least
there’ll be
a draught.
The Door by Miroslav Holub, from Poems Before & After, translated from the original Czech by Ian Milner et al. (Bloodaxe Books, 2006). Text as posted on Scottish Poetry Library. http://www.ayearofbeinghere.com
Sunrise @ Branford Point, CT this fine chilly morning! My challenge was to get out of the nice, warm covers! SO worth it!! xo
But tired of land, we open ourselves to oceans, tired of time
we give back all that we’ve taken, tired of ourselves
we open ourselves to ourselves at last, sensing the waves
and great abyss of the sea beyond,
the ocean stretching on sand
and the long view on the still sea that leads to another life.
We go out as the fish go out, leaving the taste
of the rivers we know, joining the dark, invisible weight
of what we would become, the calm sense of movement
seeing the others forming our shoals, and the scales
on our sides filling the depth with trembling stars.
In that depth, return’s instinctual, the moon harvests
the long years and binds them in sheaves in a circle,
and we return too, for home from the sea we come to the river,
turning the oceans face toward land
opening to silence
as the salmon opens to the sweet water in a saltless stream…
Time Left Alone by David Whyte
I spend this day
Moving into
ruthless
radical
Trust
I confess
I weep
I let go
I praise
I let go more
I move into new areas
Of hope and faith
I walk to the shore
Every rock glitters
I talk to my favorite seagull
‘Lefty’
I can tell it’s him
When he lets his empty leg down
Speckles I know immediately
From those red-brown dots on his cheeks
They move over as I get too close –
I am not a seagull after all –
They must keep some distance
Not trusting humans
as they do their creator.
I cant resist glittering rocks
Colorful shells
The sparkling glory of God
Is everywhere
How do I not remember all this glitter?
I am aware of the world
Connection
Trusting all of life
As I live trust
into this new moment
of life
of spring
Signs are everywhere
Flowers and buds
appearing before my very eyes
All of nature trusting.
Only humans, like me,
Struggle to trust.
Only I
think I can handle my own life
Think I am separate
Think I must do it all on my own
Earn my worth
Prove my value
By hiding who I really am
Like I have done anything to put myself here
Like I can pretend that I don’t need
or that Im not enough
that I can be someone Im not –
what arrogance have I been taught?
What Foolishness have I held on to?
What silliness and damning lies have I refused to let go of?
I fall on my knees
in humble thankfulness –
I am not my own
I am THE beloved
Lord, I trust
Open my eyes
Renovate my heart
Help my untrusting
Bring me home
life: acoustic & amplified 