For every season…
Life has been busy as the start of summer arrives– so this writing exercise was the perfect way to keep me thinking, writing, creating. It was helpful too, to reflect, to pause and breathe– things I haven’t been very good at of late. The inspiration behind this post comes from Kathy Escobar, a friend and wonderful writer. Check out her post too, and download the template for your own use.
a time for new dreams wrapped in hope and peace to be born
and a time for unkindness–to ourselves, to others to die.
a time to plant the seeds of justice for the voices that people think are too small to be heard
and a time to harvest loving mercy.
a time to kill the monsters of past regrets that haunt us
and a time to heal from the wounds of yesterday.
a time to tear down the things we falsely worship: perfection, busyness, looking put together on the outside
and a time to build up: community, real and honest; the freedom to be where we’re at, to love where we’re at.
a time to cry about feeling so alone in this journey
and a time to laugh with the richest community I’ve experienced.
a time to grieve over the dreams I’ve had to let go of, the places I’ve left behind
and a time to dance because of the bigger, more beautiful dreams I’m inheriting.
a time to scatter the hopes of tomorrow, plant them in fragrant soil
and a time to gather the blooms from yesterday.
a time to embrace the unknown, to step into the wild wind
and a time to turn away from my comfort zone, from being too afraid to take the first step.
a time to search for more ways to love
and a time to quit searching for the right answers, the right doctrine, the right dogma.
a time to keep good friends close
and a time to throw away the attempts to keep everyone happy.
a time to tear apart my list of shoulds
and a time to mend the list of things that my soul delights in.
a time to be quiet about the lacking
and a time to speak about the abundance.
a time to love the pure, the good, the lovely
and a time to hate the unjust, the evil, the painful.
a time for war against injustice, inequality, and corruption
and a time for peace worth pursuing, lasting, true peace.
amen.
What does your life look like this season?
Let us be women who love…
I have something new going up soon, but I wanted to share this absolutely BEAUTIFUL piece from the SheLoves Magazine. I cannot get over this, and want it to be a a “life rule,” a way of living:
Let us be women who Love.
Let us be women willing to lay down our sword words, our sharp looks, our ignorant silence and towering stance and fill the earth now with extravagant Love.
Let us be women who Love.
Let us be women who make room.
Let us be women who open our arms and invite others into an honest, spacious, glorious embrace.
Let us be women who carry each other.
Let us be women who give from what we have.
Let us be women who leap to do the difficult things, the unexpected things and the necessary things.
Let us be women who live for Peace.
Let us be women who breathe Hope.
Let us be women who create beauty.
Let us be women who Love.
Let us be a sanctuary where God may dwell.
Let us be a garden for tender souls.
Let us be a table where others may feast on the goodness of God.
Let us be a womb for Life to grow.
Let us be women who Love.
Let us rise to the questions of our time.
Let us speak to the injustices in our world.
Let us move the mountains of fear and intimidation.
Let us shout down the walls that separate and divide.
Let us fill the earth with the fragrance of Love.
Let us be women who Love.
Let us listen for those who have been silenced.
Let us honour those who have been devalued.
Let us say, Enough! with abuse, abandonment, diminishing and hiding.
Let us not rest until every person is free and equal.
Let us be women who Love.
Let us be women who are savvy, smart and wise.
Let us be women who shine with the light of God in us.
Let us be women who take courage and sing the song in our hearts.
Let us be women who say, Yes to the beautiful, unique purpose seeded in our souls.
Let us be women who call out the song in another’s heart.
Let us be women who teach our children to do the same.
Let us be women who Love.
Let us be women who Love, in spite of fear.
Let us be women who Love, in spite of our stories.
Let us be women who Love loudly, beautifully, Divinely.
Let us be women who Love.
A beautiful and blessed Easter to you!
Good Friday Reflection
Since it’s been awhile that I put up a piece of writing by CS Lewis, I want to for today, Good Friday. This comes from the book The Business of Heaven (Harcourt 1984).
God, who needs nothing, loves into existence, wholly superfluous creatures in order that He may love and perfect them. He creates the universe, already foreseeing–or should we say seeing, there are no tenses in God– the buzzing cloud of flies about the cross, the flayed back pressed against the uneven stake, the nails driven through the mesial nerves, the repeated incipient suffocation as the body droops, the repeated torture of back and arms as it is time after time, for breath’s sake, hitched up. If I may dare the biological image, God is a ‘host’ who deliberately creates His own parasites, causes us to be that we may exploit and take advantage of Him. Herein is love. This is the diagram of Love Himself, the inventor of all loves.
For life
Believe in them, the little Easters.
They are us, our hearts, our bodies, our minds. The little Easters: you, me being pulled from the grave.
We are wounded, we wound, we die, victims and oppressors, all of us one and the same. We are buried, wrapped in grave cloths. We walk through life this way, because we think that we’re prepared for death, for our seventy years that expire into nothingness.
But we are not dead.
No, we are alive. We are given to this place, this year, this moment in time for one purpose. For life! Ireneus said the glory of God is many fully alive. Not alive to our own selfishness, our own ambitions, or expectations. Alive to the spring breeze on our face, the feeling of wet rain drops on our skin. Alive to the soft laughter of a baby, to the wonder of a little one’s eyes. Alive to the poor. Alive to our marriages, to our families, to the kingdom of God.
We are pulled from the grave, and our grave cloths disappear. Our bodies, weak with death and pain are alive. There is nothing that was part of our death-lives that should be part of our pascal-lives.
Stop walking in death, stop walking as though you are headed to your own tomb. You are the little Easter. You are the resurrection miracle: not that God could raise from the dead his son–because God can do all things, but that God in raising Jesus from the dead would also raise us! And stand us transformed, here, today. Alive.
We were meant to dream
We were meant to dream.
We lose sight of those dreams, stuffed into toy boxes or hope chests, underneath the board games with pieces missing, the old letters, the postcards.
We put them up high on the shelves, stacked with dishes we never use, with old blenders and dusty vases.
We stash them along with all the others— those travel books of far away places, those virginal wedding dresses, those empty baby shoes.
We learn to live in the moment, even if the moment lacks a fullness, a ripeness of life, of joy, of hope for a better tomorrow.
But we were meant to dream.
God called us to dream alongside Him. He called us to dream, to create, to act upon our hopes for His kingdom. Somewhere along the way, we picked up the toothpaste— little kids distracted from our task at hand with something we thought was far more exciting.
Somewhere along this lenten journey, I was reminded to put down the toothpaste, to pick up the far more real, more exciting task at hand. We were meant to dream.