Life just seems so ordinary without required reading and papers to write. What's next? This question keeps popping up these days now that the epic Spiritual Formation/Spiritual Direction Practicum has drawn to its close. For one who has always been scrambling around for the next thing, it's a valid question. I'm trying to hold the response that is coming into being lightly - keeping in line with what I’ve said elsewhere on this blog page:
• I try not to take myself too seriously.
• I realize that I need a lot less than I want.
The answer seems to be, "Not what's next - rather, what's alongside of."
In this blog I’ve been tracking time and the rhythm of the church calendar through Lent and the Easter Season’s joyful conclusion on the day of Pentecost Sunday. So far as this blog goes, I’ve been wondering, what’s next?
Liturgical churches now enter into what is known as Ordinary Time. While not meaning "common" or "mundane," this term comes from the word "ordinal," which simply means counted time.
As one who has not been involved in any church that has marked much of this liturgical church calendar, I find myself in an ordinary time of the common variety.
It’s not a question of what’s next – it’s simply a time of being in the here and now.
In this ordinary time that I find myself in, I’d like to use this page as a place to do what Honey Girl's blog spot has been established to do – be a spot to post simple reflections expressing gratitude for God's goodness and abundant provision.
The journey of the past five years has brought me to a place where I realize that I have everything that I need. For now, let me simply say that I am grateful for today - for opportunity to be outside on this glorious summer like day. Grateful for the time and energy to get some necessary yard work done. Grateful to come in out of the heat into air conditioned comfort and take a break.
Does today find you in an ordinary time? Even so, what are you grateful for?
Thursday, May 27, 2010
Saturday, May 22, 2010
Pentecost
Pentecost Sunday, observed tomorrow, marks the close of the 50 day Easter season on the church calendar. I’m grateful for this observance and the rhythm of seasons.
Allow me to share a prayer…
Come Holy Spirit
Come as a cleansing wind
Come as a fire and burn
Come as a light and shine
Come into my heart
Convict and convert
Until I am wholly Thine.
…and a poem entitled, A Man from Phrygia, on Pentecost by Madeleine L’Engle
Lord, I did not choose to be comforted.
I am not ready to bear the many things
you have yet to say: you said it yourself.
But you have sent me (against my will) your comforter
And what is comfort but an iron command?
I don’t want to obey. I won’t. Yes: I will.
Why must I interrupt my self-indulgent weakness
to respond to the austerity of your demand?
I must set my face sternly towards truth
as you turned toward Jerusalem, that all
obedience should be shown us and accomplished.
Your way to truth is hard, is dark, is pain.
You have shown me the way, O Lord, but I
am not prepared to bear your comfort.
And yet, unwilling, unready, recalcitrant,
I receive the flaming thrust that you have sent,
And voices speaking as in my own tongue,
And nothing will ever be the same again.
Allow me to share a prayer…
Come Holy Spirit
Come as a cleansing wind
Come as a fire and burn
Come as a light and shine
Come into my heart
Convict and convert
Until I am wholly Thine.
…and a poem entitled, A Man from Phrygia, on Pentecost by Madeleine L’Engle
Lord, I did not choose to be comforted.
I am not ready to bear the many things
you have yet to say: you said it yourself.
But you have sent me (against my will) your comforter
And what is comfort but an iron command?
I don’t want to obey. I won’t. Yes: I will.
Why must I interrupt my self-indulgent weakness
to respond to the austerity of your demand?
I must set my face sternly towards truth
as you turned toward Jerusalem, that all
obedience should be shown us and accomplished.
Your way to truth is hard, is dark, is pain.
You have shown me the way, O Lord, but I
am not prepared to bear your comfort.
And yet, unwilling, unready, recalcitrant,
I receive the flaming thrust that you have sent,
And voices speaking as in my own tongue,
And nothing will ever be the same again.
Monday, May 17, 2010
Direction
How many bloggers begin with this: It's been awhile since my last posting...
Here's my excuse ;o) Five years of learning in a most profound spiritual formation program/spiritual direction practicum drew to a close this past weekend. The previous month found me in the throes of writing my final paper and now, I’ve come out on the other side not knowing what’s next - what direction to take.
Today finds me pondering and processing with a grateful heart and an open posture of letting go and receiving - simply waiting for direction.
Until honey girl's next posting, let me leave you with this poem by John O’Donohue:
Blessed be the longing that brought you here
and quickens your soul with wonder.
May you have the courage to listen to the voice of desire
that disturbs you when you have settled for something safe.
May you have the wisdom to enter generously into your own unease
to discover the new direction your longing wants you to take.
May the forms of your belonging – in love, creativity, and friendship-
be equal to the grandeur and the call of your soul.
May the one you long for long for you.
May your dreams gradually reveal the destination of your desire.
May a secret providence guide your thought and nurture your feeling.
May your mind inhabit your life with the sureness
with which your body inhabits the world.
May your heart never be haunted by ghost-structures of old damage.
May you come to accept your longing as divine urgency.
May you know the urgency with which God longs for you.
Here's my excuse ;o) Five years of learning in a most profound spiritual formation program/spiritual direction practicum drew to a close this past weekend. The previous month found me in the throes of writing my final paper and now, I’ve come out on the other side not knowing what’s next - what direction to take.
Today finds me pondering and processing with a grateful heart and an open posture of letting go and receiving - simply waiting for direction.
Until honey girl's next posting, let me leave you with this poem by John O’Donohue:
Blessed be the longing that brought you here
and quickens your soul with wonder.
May you have the courage to listen to the voice of desire
that disturbs you when you have settled for something safe.
May you have the wisdom to enter generously into your own unease
to discover the new direction your longing wants you to take.
May the forms of your belonging – in love, creativity, and friendship-
be equal to the grandeur and the call of your soul.
May the one you long for long for you.
May your dreams gradually reveal the destination of your desire.
May a secret providence guide your thought and nurture your feeling.
May your mind inhabit your life with the sureness
with which your body inhabits the world.
May your heart never be haunted by ghost-structures of old damage.
May you come to accept your longing as divine urgency.
May you know the urgency with which God longs for you.
Monday, May 3, 2010
A Prescribed Burn
Since Lent, while intentionally cultivating an attitude of gratitude, I've found myself wondering how Paul was able to say, "I have learned to be content whatever the circumstances." What was the Apostle's secret? Recently, while reading from the book, THE WAY TO LOVE, by Anthony DeMello, a turn of the page became a match strike when I read these words, "Search ...in your heart for the spark of discontent and tend the flame till it becomes a conflagration and your world is burned down to a heap of rubble." ... Tend the flame of discontent?
A few days ago the GR PRESS ran a story entitled, "Blaze is creative spark that renews the land.” It told about a controlled fire set on a 32 acre wildlife habitat in Lowell. The Frederick Meijer Gardens had the wildflower meadow torched a month ago in similar fashion. Fascinated by the process, I learned that these prescribed burns are a way of managing fire-dependent ecosystems in a safe, controlled fashion. They are effective in managing invasive species while simultaneously stimulating native plants - incinerating all the non-native plants which compete for sunlight, rain and soil nutrients.
In light of the above examples of incendiary tactics, I see the wisdom behind DeMello’s words. In preparation for a prescribed burn of the spark of discontent; be aware. Take note of the invasive vexation. Name it. Tend its flame. Out of the ashes is the promise of new life. Having visited the Meijer Gardens a few days ago, I was curious – What had been, just days before, blackened, charred ground was now an area boasting tender sprouts of abundant wildflower foliage. It has been transformed into a rich fertile area – one that I look forward to revisiting in the weeks and months ahead so as to enjoy an abundant display of blossoms.
In this fifth week of Easter, I’m on the lookout for signs of resurrection. The wildflower meadow at the Meijer Gardens has become, for me, a tangible reminder of resurrection. For that I’m grateful.
What spark of discontent in your heart is waiting for the breath of the Spirit to ignite and set ablaze that you might see resurrection?
God of the resurrection, God of the living, untomb and uncover all that needs to live in me. Take me to people, events, and situations and stretch me into much greater openness. Open me. Open me. Open me... for it is only then that I will know how it is to be in the moment rising from the dead. (J. Rupp)
A few days ago the GR PRESS ran a story entitled, "Blaze is creative spark that renews the land.” It told about a controlled fire set on a 32 acre wildlife habitat in Lowell. The Frederick Meijer Gardens had the wildflower meadow torched a month ago in similar fashion. Fascinated by the process, I learned that these prescribed burns are a way of managing fire-dependent ecosystems in a safe, controlled fashion. They are effective in managing invasive species while simultaneously stimulating native plants - incinerating all the non-native plants which compete for sunlight, rain and soil nutrients.
In light of the above examples of incendiary tactics, I see the wisdom behind DeMello’s words. In preparation for a prescribed burn of the spark of discontent; be aware. Take note of the invasive vexation. Name it. Tend its flame. Out of the ashes is the promise of new life. Having visited the Meijer Gardens a few days ago, I was curious – What had been, just days before, blackened, charred ground was now an area boasting tender sprouts of abundant wildflower foliage. It has been transformed into a rich fertile area – one that I look forward to revisiting in the weeks and months ahead so as to enjoy an abundant display of blossoms.
In this fifth week of Easter, I’m on the lookout for signs of resurrection. The wildflower meadow at the Meijer Gardens has become, for me, a tangible reminder of resurrection. For that I’m grateful.
What spark of discontent in your heart is waiting for the breath of the Spirit to ignite and set ablaze that you might see resurrection?
God of the resurrection, God of the living, untomb and uncover all that needs to live in me. Take me to people, events, and situations and stretch me into much greater openness. Open me. Open me. Open me... for it is only then that I will know how it is to be in the moment rising from the dead. (J. Rupp)
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