to listen

"...to live without listening at all is to live deaf to the fulness of the music. Sometimes we avoid listening for fear of what we may hear, sometimes for fear that we may hear nothing at all but the empty rattle of our own feet on the pavement. But be not affeared..."for lo, I am with you always, even unto the end of the world." He says he is with us on our journeys. He says he has been with us since each of our journeys began. Listen for him. Listen to the sweet and bitter airs of your present and your past for the sound of him."

from The Sacred Journey by Frederich Buchner 

A new journey for me begins today. I am jumping on a flight to New Zealand soon. To spend the next three months listening to my heavenly Father. 

[35mm black and white film; photos taken in Charlotte, NC]

Stubbornly choosing gladness

After listening to Krista Tippett's interview of author Elizabeth Gilbert the other day, I looked up this poem. Written by the American poet Jack Gilbert, it reminds me to embrace enjoyment and delight...

A Brief For The Defense

Sorrow everywhere. Slaughter everywhere. If babies

are not starving someplace, they are starving

somewhere else. With flies in their nostrils.

But we enjoy our lives because that’s what God wants.

Otherwise the mornings before summer dawn would not

be made so fine. The Bengal tiger would not

be fashioned so miraculously well. The poor women

at the fountain are laughing together between

the suffering they have known and the awfulness

in their future, smiling and laughing while somebody

in the village is very sick. There is laughter

every day in the terrible streets of Calcutta,

and the women laugh in the cages of Bombay.

If we deny our happiness, resist our satisfaction,

we lessen the importance of their deprivation.

We must risk delight. We can do without pleasure,

but not delight. Not enjoyment. We must have

the stubbornness to accept our gladness in the ruthless

furnace of this world. To make injustice the only

measure of our attention is to praise the Devil.

If the locomotive of the Lord runs us down,

we should give thanks that the end had magnitude.

We must admit there will be music despite everything.

We stand at the prow again of a small ship

anchored late at night in the tiny port

looking over to the sleeping island: the waterfront

is three shuttered cafés and one naked light burning.

To hear the faint sound of oars in the silence as a rowboat

comes slowly out and then goes back is truly worth

all the years of sorrow that are to come.

spring 'n thanks

01. J. and his Spanish wine and hilarity
02. another brother's engagement and
03. the birds can't stop singing because it's finally WARM
04. a big scholarship for a dear friend
05. family
06. family
07. family
08. and more family this past weekend
09. peace about the future
10. did I mention my family?

Finally

[photo courtesy of Virginia Adair]

It was my great privilege to interview my friend Virginia Adair, and then write up a little bit about her, trying to capture the joyous essence of who she is!

I am starting a journey of documentation. I want to celebrate various women I come into contact with, ALL sorts of women; regardless of race, background, economic status, age or whatever.

Hop on over to C E L E B R A T I N G : H E R and enjoy reading Ginnie's story.

7 things I love about my church

[photo courtesy of churchrez.org]

01. the liturgy: I love the rich prayers, the ever-changing liturgical calendar, the church tradition, sacramental theology.

02. the balance: There is respect for holding a middle ground on such issues not critical to the Gospel, like infant baptism or whether or not the Eucharist really becomes the Body and Blood of Christ when a priest consecrates it.

03. the structure: I love the accountability that the church hierarchy brings within our parish, but also within the diocese. No priest or deacon is leading without adequate oversight.

04. the unity: I love that we are part of a larger church with other Anglican churches around the globe. The communion of believers.

05. the age diversity: I love that there are infants and elderly. My church is full of families, college students, and adults of all ages. I only wish there was more racial diversity.

06. the worship: I love the combination of traditional and contemporary music. On any given Sunday, we could go from a plainsong version of  Our Father, to a song from the Taize or Iona community, to something by Chris Tomlin or Fernando Ortega. We're working on getting that Gospel music in there ;)

07. the Spirit: I love that the Holy Spirit is not left out, as can sometimes happen in churches. Rather, my church relies on and craves the Spirit's work in our lives.

 

Lent

This no-make-up-fast feels like too much vulnerability.
Everyone gets to see the raw me.

.....


But what am I trying to hide?

I am a sinner, weak and needy.
No stronger than the homeless woman whose whole life is laid bare before the eyes of the public.
No weaker than the suburban mom with hair, nails, face all "finished," for we are all bare beneath those outer garments.

"Rend your hearts, and not your garments.
Return to the Lord your God,
for he is gracious and merciful,
slow to anger and abounding in steadfast love,
and repents of evil."
[Joel 2:13]

And this is beautiful. 

Lately

Lately, I'm looking with great anticipation to again being in this place, with beautiful people all seeking God together.

Also trying to simplify this life I've been given. To accept necessary endings and prune even at a few good things, to leave room for other buds to flourish.

And remembering these words,

"People will forget what you said,
people will forget what you did,
but people will never forget how you made them feel."
--Maya Angelou

[the outdoor shrine in Orkney Springs, VA, taken by a beautiful sister in Christ, Cheryl Finnegan]