A Worn Corduroy Kind of Life

I was traveling back to New Jersey from the New York City area late this evening, and as I came across the George Washington Bridge, along route 95 and then 80, it struck me that somehow this bit of road was a bit like a worn old pair of corduroys.

Worn smooth in some places, patched in others;

Comfortably out of style, with its pink and green Marcal Paper Products sign, and its cylindrical Holiday Inn.

And comfortable in how many times it has taken me home, along with thousands and millions of others, rolling home, year after year, to lives that changed radically over time.

As if to rub it in, the radio started playing Chuck Mangione’s “Give it All you Got” from, what was it? 1970-something. Remember those Olympics? Lake Placid? Long time ago now.

My life is like that. Patched, worn smooth in places. Holes in it where it doesn’t really work right anymore, where you can see layers of something that came before underneath. Funny, half-remembered bits and preserved things that don't really make sense anymore patched in or poking through.

Probably your life is like this too, and if it isn’t, it probably will be.

That is one of the wonderful things about life though, like corduroys and asphalt, it takes patching well, and can take you to places you never imagined, while staying kind of plain and ordinary every step of the way.

May you all, when you look at your life, see it as less worn out, and more worn in, broken in, and comfortable, and may you find many friends and angels among your fellow travelers, friends who appreciate a comfortable old corduroy kind of a life.

Better Living Thru Chaomistry

Hilltop gurus don't have children
They mostly don't have wives
They don't labor for their upkeep
They live stark and simple lives

But up upon a pinnacle
Is not where we're called to live
We have work among the masses
We must compromise and give

And nothing is quite perfect
And much is not so great
Few plans are finished early
We often stay up late

Nothing gets our full attention
Our tasks we often won't complete
Somedays we feel successful
If our families can eat

But we make space at our table
For children, friends and foes
We try to provide some comfort
For a multitude of woes

Life's a business of balance
A little 'take' and lots of 'give'
But if we are to be Christian
This is how we're supposed to live

Creation starts with chaos
Love requires a bit of mess
The Light requires us to be sharing
There is injustice to address

So find faith in growth by measures;
joy in clutter and dissaray
And with God's help we'll move forward,
And make a better, brighter day.

Half-Measures

What we want in life is whole-measures.
Or more-than-whole-measures.

We don't just want our daily bread, we want extra, enough to share at best, or a gluttonous amount at worst.

And that leads us to demand more than whole-measures from those around us.

Unreasonably, we want our whims satisfied instantly, and our intentions translated into fact without our having to work out the details.

We want our waiter's full attention, even though he or she has a large number of tables, perhaps a headache, and an insane boss to keep satisfied.

We want our employees and service providers to start work at 8:00am, to end work at 9:00pm, and to remember our every demand, and we probably pay them far too little to live where we do, and then we complain when they are outsourced, and speak with an accent.

We are greedy, unfair, and gluttonous. So my instruction to you is to try to find ways to be more real, to allow those around you to live real lives, to live a real life yourself.

Take your time...
Tip and pay living wages, let people leave at 5pm.

Go home to your family, they will appreciate it, even if they don't say so.

If you don't have a life, find one. Visit friends, get out, write, draw, paint.

Give your life more than half measures.

You will be glad you did.

Muddy, Floody Happiness

This was a tough week for many.
Murder, religious hatred and flooding darkened it.

On my daily commute, I have seen the tragedy of the flooding first hand, with some houses struggling to keep their roofs above water.

And with the rain continuing into the week, the flooding persisted, only slowly subsiding as the rains lessened.

In one community, the locals used small rowboats to get to the raised railbed, and then walked along the rails to get to town.

But on Friday, the sun came out, and began the serious work of drying things up, and on my way home, I chanced to see a man, a resident of one of the flooded areas, rowing to the railbed with his golden retriever in the back of his boat.

And that dog was just as happy as a dog could be, waving his tail, and lifting his nose to sniff all the different muddy, floody smells. You could tell that for him, this was a great and exciting day.

And I pray we may all find moments of joy in our lives, even in the dark bits.

Today, I am a finger...

Pointing at the moon.

Look at this gentleman, who is only afraid of three things.

Hat tip 'The Presurfer'.



May you deal as well with your fears!

Peace, Grace, and Love to You,

LE

BunSpiration

Hat tip to Cute Overload which provides us with the following heartwarming bunny-video.





Peace,

LE

Our Father

When the world seems dark,
and my way unclear, hopeless, or pointless,
I find the following prayer
is very helpful.

I suggest praying it slowly, and with intention, and if you get distracted, start over.

Our Father, who art in heaven,
hallowed be thy Name,
thy kingdom come,
thy will be done,
on earth as it is in heaven.
Give us this day our daily bread.
And forgive us our trespasses,
as we forgive those who trespass against us.
And lead us not into temptation,
but deliver us from evil.
For thine is the kingdom, and the power, and the glory, for ever and
ever.

Amen

For the Families of the Departed

The LORD is my shepherd; I shall not be in want.

He makes me lie down in green pastures and leads me beside still waters.

He revives my soul and guides me along right pathways for his Name's sake.

Though I walk through the valley of the shadow of death, I shall fear no evil;

for you are with me; your rod and your staff, they comfort me.

You spread a table before me in the presence of those who trouble me;

you have anointed my head with oil, and my cup is running over.

Surely your goodness and mercy shall follow me all the days of my life,

and I will dwell in the house of the LORD for ever.

Winding About Below The Leaves

They appear for no apparent reason in the woods,
They sometimes bury themselves,
Level with the ground and are difficult to see.

Sometimes several loom up, large and long, hiding below the leaves,
And they twine amongst each other, merging and splitting, appearing and dissappearing, like strange, long eskers or indian mounds.
Streams and roads cut them abruptly, but they don't notice or care.

Up and down they go, following the landscape, but not too quickly: mounding up hugely when the land drops away, digging in when hills crop up.

Trains need gentle grades, you see.
Sometimes I imagine ghosts of the engines that used to run on these old railbeds, chuffing among the trees.

Life is a bit like these railbeds perhaps. Sometimes solitary, other times not, sometimes prominent, other times low and humble. Most raibeds, once abandoned, become part of the landscape, weather away, or are mined for their rock. Some railbeds never fall from use, while others may lie sleeping for decades even a century before someone finds value in them and decides to take that path again.

May your path be level and take you through pleasant places, and may it guide, support and inspire those who come after you, through the landscape of life.

A Threefold Vision

I had a dream
I dreampt I should do three things
And I have done

One solved a problem in my home,
One solved a worry about my church,
And one of them solved a worry about my life.

None of these things got done in exactly the way I dreamed, in reality, each has been different, more complex, and better.

The third one was to build this blog.
In my dream it was called 'Book of Signs', but that name wasn't available, so here is 'Signs, Dreams, and Visions', something I dreamed, and then did.

How do we know if a dream is holy? Maybe if it comes true, better than you imagined.

May we have many such dreams.

Topics

I am glad to look at the list of topics to the left, and see that I speak about 'Love' more than I do 'God', of 'Mission' and 'Stewardship' (and I think good stewardship is mission) more than 'Prayer' and 'Faith'. I think I could have discussed Creation, our Arisen World, Eucharist and Family more, and suspect that I really just failed to mark everything I should as 'Theology', if only because everything written here about love or God is, in my opinion, theology.

God is love, and where love is, God himself is there.

'Good' Friday

I never got 'Good Friday'.

Who are they kidding?

Easter might be 'Good Sunday'

But 'Good Friday'?

'Good'?

It boggles the mind, being nailed to a tree and left to hang till dead.

It sure doesn't seem good to me.

More like nasty friday, evil friday, bad, rotten and twisted friday.
The friday we blew it, got it wrong, put an innocent saint to death because he freaked out the priests.

Unless there is something more going on here.

Unless Jesus died obediently on the cross, when he needent do so, and unless his death did something more, moved something in heaven and earth, proved, demonstrated, saved, redeemed...

But what? I propose that, apart from the resurrection, Jesus' death on the cross was a powerful act. Jesus, God incarnate, came to live with us, and suffered and died like us.

Jesus, was, after all, 'God with us'. And in Jesus, God proved his willingness to be with us through the worst that life can dole out. God did not leap off the cross, step out of the role when it got tough, painful, and mortifying. No, God was faithful to the end.

God IS with us.

What Thursday is It?

Mandatum novum do vobis ut diligatis invicem sicut dilexi vos

It is, in the end, all about love.

Not about the mechanics of sin,
Not about the celestial engineering of salvation.
Not about blind faith, or creeds, or covenants, or even confession.

This day is commonly named "Maundy Thursday", or, if you prefer, "Commandment Thursday".

We are so good at remembering the old words, but we forget the meaning, if we knew it. And we put the emPHAsis on the wrong sylAble. Or in this case, the wrong word.

What is this Thursday commandment?

A new commandment I give unto you, that you love one another as I have loved you

If we must use the Latin, it shouldn't be Maundy (Mandatum-Mandate or command) Thursday. It should be Diligatis Thursday.

Or in the Greek, 'Agape':
Today was Agape Thursday;
'Love Thursday'.

It is, in the end, all about love.

Go forth to love and serve each other, every one, and in doing so, know that you serve the Lord.

Our life, it is a struggle

There is work to do here
And in doing it we're blessed

But it is not all fun
And sometimes we get depressed

It tastes sometimes of vinegar
Of sweat
And blood
And tears

And death is often not
The greatest of our fears

Paul reminds us that we're not alone, of the body we are a part

And passing on we are suprised how much of us are heart.

Our life, it is a struggle
There is a lot for us to do

But God blesses us and keeps us
And hereafter will make us new

So lift your hearts and lift your heads and press forward to the goal.
There is great honour in the fight that purifies your soul.

We are all one in God's great scheme, in God no lonely ways.

But myriads of blessings over an infinity of days.

God Must Get Kind Of Dizzy

God must get kinda dizzy
As we shoot across the sky
As we arc across the galaxy
As the stars go spinning by

As we spin and twirl and wobble
As we swing around the sun
And that dang moon keeps on zipping past
Eyeing mankind can't be fun

And God's eyes must be real sharp
If he can pick our small selves out
Us who live in a thin film of gas,
On this rock that whirls about

I mean, we're not even one-tenth a mote
Some dust caught by the light
I couldn't pick us out from among the stars if I were to squint with all my might

And yet God loves us every one
Us mites perched on a flea
And cares for each and every one
However small we be

So let us try so show some care
For those flecks of life like us
Who dwell on this tiny blue-ish speck
Of cast off stellar dust