Final post here as honey girl

 A few years ago I started blogging here on Honey Girl's Blog Spot. After almost a year of inactivity  I realize how much I miss blogging. 

And so, I begin again on another page. It's  time to simplify things. Find me here:

  I'll enjoy meeting you there.

May you be well.

This too shall pass

This too shall pass - An oft repeated phrase attributed to a poem by Edward Fitzgerald in his collection Polonius: A Collection of  Wise Saws and Modern Instances. According to Wikipedia*, "Solomon's Seal", describes a sultan requesting of King Solomon a sentence that would always be true in good times or bad; Solomon responds, "This too will pass away."

I’ve been pondering this phrase and the impermanence of things as I’ve passed from the winter of my discontent through a season of disillusionment.

Now a new season of recuperation from shoulder surgery presents itself.

My husband will take a few days off from work to attend to immediate post-operative needs. Aside from that I’ve done all I can to prepare for this.

Meals are lined up. Transportation has been arranged for trips to Physical Therapy.

The “to do list” has most everything checked off – the important things any way. As for the rest, I’ll get by with a little help from my friends.

This too shall pass.

Nature has been reinforcing the truth of this familiar adage in fresh new ways for me.

I share the enclosed photo images here as a form of visio divina to keep me rooted and grounded as I enter yet another season of forced rest and recovery knowing that this too shall pass. 

hope of spring - this too shall pass

promise of spring - this too shall pass

assurance of spring - this too shall pass

 flowers fall - this too shall pass

full leaf as spring turns toward summer - this too shall pass...

 (*Thank you Wikipedia for this quick reference - you saved me hours of research which actually left me time to get this blog post out there.)

in the cleft of the rock

The “Grandmother of the Civil Rights Movement," Septina Poinsette Clark, is quoted in my daily read, COMMON PARYAER – A LITURGY FOR ORDINARY RADICALS by Shane Claiborne, et al. This gave me pause this morning. “I have a great belief in the fact that whenever there is chaos, it creates wonderful thinking. I consider chaos a gift.”

What do you think about that? Is chaos a gift?

Over the past few weeks, my mind has been swirling – sifting and sorting as I continue to process an encounter that rocked my world. Misunderstood, I was thrown into the noise of confusion and fear.  I’ve had to step back into the cleft of the rock and listen for the still small voice.

A few weeks ago if you had given me Clark’s words I would have scoffed.  Chaos a gift? Not! Yet, today I can see the truth that chaos has the potential to create wonderful thinking. Chaos has invited me to step into silence and solitude to quiet the monkey thoughts.

There’s a story of a dejected prophet who was at the end of his rope.

He was desperate – literally running for his life.

I can only imagine that he may have felt he had gone from the frying pan into the fire when he encountered a great and powerful wind (which) tore the mountains apart and shattered the rocks before the Lord, but the Lord was not in the wind. After the wind there was an earthquake, but the Lord was not in the earthquake. After the earthquake came a fire, but the Lord was not in the fire. And after the fire came a gentle whisper. When Elijah heard it, he pulled his cloak over his face and went out and stood at the mouth of the cave.

Then a voice said to him, 
“What are you doing here, Elijah?”

1 Kings 19:11-13

I hear the same question being asked of me.
What are you doing here, Linda? 
This pause has reminded me – once again, that the gift of grace can be found anywhere – even between a rock and a hard place – in the cleft of the rock. It is here that I will root down to rise up.

proof positive

 

There between a rock and a hard place, I had hoped that I would be met by grace.

Hope does not disappoint.

After a week of processing and reflection, that hope of restoration and recovery has brought a stirring of resurrection. I’ve been waking up to the idea and now, I know - It’s true.

I’ve learned and am learning yet again to trust the process and the Presence….

On this beautiful spring day, as all creation sings, the whispered phrase of an old hymn invited me to get outside and take a good look around at all the signs of new life – of resurrection.

Lord, how thy wonders are displayed where’er I turn my eye,

if I survey the ground I tread, or gaze upon the sky!

Here’s proof positive that grace has met me right where I am today.

May it be so for you.

Peace.

Between a rock and a hard place -met by grace

What began with a dream now feels like death. At least for now – so far as now goes.

As Holy Week trudges  along, I’m feeling attuned to what the disciples experienced as they, overcome with fatigue, questioned, deserted, denied…

A deep, deep desire of my heart had flowered open to an extraordinary opportunity. I entered into it with great delight – full of expectation.

Deeply committed, I seized the day and moved forward with a grateful heart.

About half way through, disruption and disillusionment wormed its way into the picture.

Here was a bitter pill to swallow. Even now discouragement, stuck in my throat, threatens to choke desire and devotion.

I’m grateful for a timely reminder  from Richard Rohr - a much needed check of the reality that there will sometimes be  a  situation in your life (which) will lead you to a place, an event, a relationship, a failing or falling apart of something wherein you can’t control life anymore and you can’t understand it.

I’m empty and depleted. If there is any hope of restoration and recovery, it’s on the far side of much processing.

The following prayer from my daily read – Common Prayer – A Liturgy for Ordinary Radicals, by Shane Claiborne, et al, is my heart’s cry this day: 

    Lord, teach us to dwell in the corners and crevices, to find an abundance of your love in those     pockets of our lives where the poverty of our abilities crowds out our pride and ego. Amen

Lord, teach me. I want to learn.

I don’t see it yet - perhaps I never will. I have more questions than answers these days.  Seems I’m between a rock and a hard place.

 

So I wait. I wait for grace.  I wait.

And then, the stone was found to have been rolled away.

I’ll wait – expectant.  And full of hope…. Trusting the process and the Presence….

Meanwhile, grace will meet me there.