Only solitude can provide the depth for universal friendship. Those who can be solitary have withdrawn their projections and are innately nonviolent. They have broken with the crowd, and their communities do not become rival crowds in their turn. Solitude gives us the transformational insight that all things are held together in the boundless, open community of God. To be friends with one another is only seeing what we are in God together. This insight is the criterion of all genuine holiness.
Holiness demands courage. The courage born of holiness.
The past is past, no need to wonder; the present is now, where our love grows daily. What does the future hold? That's up to us. It seems the best thing to do is what we're doing right now, holding on to each other with love in the calm of the eye of the storm, with only one intent: to love one another as we are—completely—as two
people raising each other up, as we move through this thing we call life.
I am remembering a lifetime of trying to map
the shape of shadow and light,
To draw the clean edges of change
And what has made me an oddity
Asked me to live far more closely
To the center of all that awe and ache.
Einstein told us that our universe is shaped and defined by light. We live in a visual cage, and what we call time is simply the ever-moving shadow of the bars which confine us....But suppose that...we were able to outrun the waves of light which undulate across the universe. As we leap...across the galaxy we overtake and leave behind the light which left the surface of the earth...the image will travel forever in this everlasting night, seeking its home among the stars, reaching ever outward toward some hypothetical destination at the universe's problematic end. Is light, then, the stuff our souls are made of?
Through science we have created magnificent spacecrafts and telescopes to explore
the night and the light and the half light. We have made visible things that are
invisible to the unaided eye. We have brought the dreamy heavens down to Earth,
held them in the mind's eye. Our explorations have produced a vast archive of
remarkable astronomical images...The riches are too many for choices, the
revelations beautiful and dreadful. Who can look at these images and not be
transformed? The heavens declare God's glory.
There is a feeling like the clenching of a fist
There is a hunger in the center of the chest
There is a passage through the darkness and the mist
and though the body sleeps, the heart will never rest
Shed a little light oh Lord so that we can see
Just a little light oh Lord...
Uphold the Light that your inner light
may illumine fear-filled hearts...
Light comes with each new dawn.
yield to the Light within;
become a chalice of light
for the world!
We did not ask for this room or
this music; we were invited in.
Therefore, because the dark
surrounds us, let us turn our
faces toward the light. Let us
endure hardship to be grateful
for plenty...We did not ask for
this room or this music. But
because we are here, let us
dance.
~ Stephen King and Bridget Carpenter in a poem from 11.22.63
Our world is so full of conditions
—
demands, requirements, and obligations
that we often wonder what is expected of us.
But when we meet a truly free person
[a truly giving person]
there are no expectations,
only an invitation
to reach into ourselves
and discover there
our own freedom.
~ from Bread for the Journey by Henri Nouwen, as quoted in "Thin Places" Sept/Oct/Nov 2010
The circumstances of our lives are another medium of God’s communication with us. God opens some doors and closes others.... Through the wisdom of our bodies, God tells us to slow down or reorder our priorities. The happy coincidences and frustrating impasses of daily life are laden with messages. Patient listening and the grace of the Spirit are the decoding devices of prayer. It is a good habit to ask, What is God saying to me in this situation? Listening to our lives is part of prayer.
Dear Friends ~ American culture tends to prize maximum choice with minimum limitations and, especially in this season, urges us to want more —not less. We tie ourselves in knots stressing over constraints of time and chafe at the notion that others may impinge on our space or have more resources. It seems to be human nature that however much space or time expands, we keep filling it and still feel cramped. Perhaps we could contemplate cultivating alternate perspectives. Freedom and structure are not necessarily mutually exclusive. In some ways, having or expecting to have unlimited choices is an unearned "entitlement" of the privileged few. Could being grateful and attentive to what we have help us to be fully present in the time we are in and actively inhabit the space where we live? Sue Bender, in PLAIN AND SIMPLE, ponders the metaphor of patchwork quilting to understand how to make sense of the rhythms of our lives.
Traveling light—imagine this
meaning: unencumbered journeying,
a graceful way of traveling through
life like a single leaf. Now imagine
another: the light by which we
journey, the light that shows the way.
Our traveling light...
What would it mean to live like a
single leaf? What would it mean to
make one’s life a journey of
simplicity? a journey unencumbered,
uncluttered, without distraction—a
journey of focus and intention? a
journey of lightness and light?...
We take delight in things; we take
delight in being loosed from things.
Between these two delights, we must
dance our lives.
We look with uncertainty
Beyond the old choices for
Clear-cut answers
To a softer, more permeable aliveness
Which is every moment
At the brink of death;
For something new is being born in us
If we but let it.
We stand at a new doorway,
Awaiting that which comes...
Daring to be human creatures,
Vulnerable to the beauty of existence.
Learning to love.
When you let go of trying to get more
of what you don’t really need, it frees
up oceans of energy to make a
difference with what you have. When
you make a difference with what you
have, it expands.
