Does it get any better than this?

On Facebok this morning, a friend posted:  

The sun is shining, the kids are healthy & happy, and I love my husband. Does it get any better?

I wanted to say no, as someone else did.  Instead, the following poured out from my spirit:

Yes, there is SO much more.  Look around at all that you have, all possibilities, all that is present, all that God has made for you this day.  There is gratefulness; peace - both inner and world-wide we help create through actions and mindfulness; eyes that see the yellow finch and blue jay, sparkly quartz in granite, and squirrels scampering in the woods; ears that hear the baby's cooing, the birds chirping, the shallow breathing of those transitioning from this life to their heavenly reward, and symphonies that play composers' works so exquisitely that tears well from a filled heart; the touch on your fingers of the velvety feel of lambs ear leaves, worn teddy bears, and soft cheeks of young men about to grow their first whiskers... There's friends strong enough to speak truth to you, and hands willing to lovingly hold yours, and a God Whose love is so tender, merciful, and unconditional that your legs cannot hold you up in His presence.

Unfounded Fear

Such procrastination I tolerate within myself about my writing!  My insecurities with it befuddle me.  I am not used to insecure feelings.  I usually have a boldness about things I do.  But this writing, at least this soul journey book, is so tender… as close to purity as I can get at each moment... a tiny bouquet of God’s sweet soul kisses to me, that I pull back often as I approach this current edit because it feels I’m getting close to releasing it and that fills me with dread.  What if they don’t like it? 

As soon as I write these words, I know the fear has no validity.  Enough people have read the older versions and responded favorably.  I must defeat this spirit of discouragement.  I have prayed out loud, “Spirit of discouragement, leave me!  In the name of Jesus, be gone!  You are not holy and you do not belong here in my sacred soul.  Leave me and do not return!  In the name of Jesus Christ, our Lord and God, I command you.  Amen.”

I print the next chapter for my critique group and send it off.  

“As soon as you trust yourself, you will know how to live.”
― Johann Wolfgang von Goethe, Faust 

painting by Sulamith Wulfing

Passages

Living Our Passages Well I love this simple, thought-provoking reflection by Henri Nouwen.  What passage are you going through at the moment? Death is a passage to new life.  That sounds very beautiful, but few of us desire to make this passage.  It might be helpful to realise that our final passage is preceded by many earlier passages.  When we are born we make a passage from life in the womb to life in the family.  When we go to school we make a passage from life in the family to life in the larger community.  When we get married we make a passage from a life with many options to a life committed to one person.  When we retire we make a passage from a life of clearly defined work to a life asking for new creativity and wisdom.    Each of these passages is a death leading to new life.  When we live these passages well, we are becoming more prepared for our final passage.

Trusting our Fruitfulness, Whether We See It or Not

Trusting in the Fruits A reflection from Henri Nouwen which gave me peace We belong to a generation that wants to see the results of our work.  We want to be productive and see with our own eyes what we have made.  But that is not the way of God's Kingdom.  Often our witness for God does not lead to tangible results.  Jesus himself died as a failure on a cross.  There was no success there to be proud of.  Still, the fruitfulness of Jesus' life is beyond any human measure.  As faithful witnesses of Jesus we have to trust that our lives too will be fruitful, even though we cannot see their fruit.  The fruit of our lives may be visible only to those who live after us. What is important is how well we love.  God will make our love fruitful, whether we see that fruitfulness or not.

Letting Go

I love this from Father Richard Rohr:

What does letting go on the practical level tell us? Letting go is different than denying or repressing. To let go of something is to admit it. You have to own it. Letting go is different than turning it against yourself; different than projecting it onto others. Letting go means that the denied, repressed, rejected parts of yourself, which are nonetheless true, are seen for what they are; but you refuse to turn them against yourself or against others. This is not denial or pretend, but actual transformation. The religious word for this letting go is forgiveness. You see the imperfect moment for what it is, and you hand it over to God. You refuse to let any negative storyline or self-serving agenda define your life. This is a very, very different way of living; it implies that you see your mistakes, your dark side, but you do not identify with either your superiority or your inferiority. Forgiveness is of one piece. Those who give it can also receive it. Those who receive it can pass forgiveness on. You are a conduit, and your only job is not to stop the flow. What comes around will also go around. The art of letting go is really the secret of happiness and freedom. Adapted from The Art of Letting Go (CD) Prayer: May I learn to let go.

Carrying The Olympic Flame

There was one moment that stood out for me from the many moving moments of the opening ceremony of the Olympics. It was the lighting of the Olympic torch. It didn't go the way we thought it would. There was no one special person selected to light it. There were many vessels that received the light and passed it on to others. As each connected, a circle of light was formed. Then each light was raised, as we will someday be. As they were lifted up, each individual light came together to form one light, one Olympic cauldron as a symbol for all to see.

 Only after the flame was lit did we begin to understand the brass vessels we had seen being carried so carefully in gloved white hands as the athletes from each participating country entered the arena. They were symbols of what each country held and carried to these world games: the best of their athletes. But they seemed to also be symbols of our souls, held and carried so tenderly by God, lit with His eternal flame which we pass along to those near us, igniting a global, growing Christic consciousness that we may never be able to fully understand or see until we view it from above. "E pluribus unum,"  a Latin phrase on the currency of the United States along with In God We Trust, translates from the many, one. One light. One world. One God. Indivisible. With liberty and justice for all. We saw each carrier of an Olympic torch dial it open to keep the flame lit. May we remember to do the same with our hearts to be enflamed with the fire of God's love. As others connect with us, a circle of love will be form around the world that will pierce its darkness with divine, healing light. It is not only time for the Olympics. It is time to hold up the light of our shared divinity, the power of God's love for the world to behold. It probably won't go the way we think it will. There will be no one special person who makes it happen. All we have to do is carry the light so others can see it and connect to it. God will raise it up. It will be inspiring to watch.

Being Like Jesus

Very often we distance ourselves from Jesus.  We say, "What Jesus knew we cannot know, and what Jesus did we cannot do."  But Jesus never puts any distance between himself and us.   He says:  "I call you friends, because I have made known to you everything I have learnt from my Father" (John 15:15) and  "In all truth I tell you, whoever believes in me will perform the same works as I do myself, and will perform even greater works"  (John 14:12).

Indeed, we are called to know what Jesus knew and do what Jesus did.  Do we really want that, or do we prefer to keep Jesus at arms' length?