I like this.

Perhaps related: A worn courderoy kind of life

The Leather Shoes I've Had A While

The leather shoes
I've had a while

They're worn and scuffed
They're broken in
Into my shape

They're shaped like me
Perhaps too much

Sometimes I switch
what feet they're on

I wear them backwards
Now and then

Just for a bit
To feel the way

They press my feet
Differently

Somehow it is comforting
To feel them different
And unmeshed

Unmatched to my feet

It is also strange
To wear something

So broken in
And yet so mismatched

It reminds me
Of how comfortable
They are normally

It is kind of like

Seeing an old friend
Doing a new thing

Meeting something
That you know well

In a strange place
Far away

Realizing again
What you are about

When you had forgotten
Or become preoccupied

See, I have made all things new
Even the shoes on your feet

Let them remind you who you are
Remind you what you are

Let them help you remember your calling
And enter into the Kingdom of God

Peace,
LE

A Bit of Spirit

I had written what I thought was a lovely post on Pentecost at my church, and the season after Pentecost, but then the gremlins of the internet consumed it in one foul gulp.

So, rather than spend another hour recreating it, with so many tasks calling me, let me instead post a link to an intriguing video by Quayola called 'Strata' which you can find here.

May you seek and find The Holy Spirit every day of this season, and for you, may it be ExtraOrdinary time.

Peace,
LE

Raise Your Light!

The sun rises, the sun sets
The moon waxes and wanes

The green life rises and leafs out

Fauns and children are born and grow

Old people hold hands, walking into the sunset

Rain waters the earth
Blue skies catch our breath

Birds sing
Fish splash
Squirrels leap
Chipmunks search the undergrowth for seeds

Woodpeckers knock, while skunks hunt for grubs below
Tiny sparks of life burrow in the earth and dance in the air

People help each other
People they know
And people they do not know

They set up funds, institutions, and ways of life to see to the care and shelter of others
For people they will never meet, for those who will come long after they have gone

Others have labored, and we have entered into their labors

Good is not the exception
We live in a very blessed world

We do not light a single lamp in the darkness
But add our light to the constellations lighting the sky

We do not sing alone in a vile place
But join the celestial chorus

There are those who do not hear
Who turn away
Who see the dark first, who struggle to pick out any good
Who cannot see how very blessed we are
Who cannot imagine the world of sharing that we really live in
And we must sing to them
And raise our light, our hearts

There is enough grace,

enough good,

… enough God for all of us

Raise your light!

Joy

You are not yet so joyful as I mean you to be!

So Live-
And live in joy!
And share your joy and love with those you meet-

Be not dauted;
but daunt with love-

Let your heart expand;
Let your love flow;

And live in joy-
Mourn no more;
And regrets leave behind-

But share and give;
And love;
And live!

Let your blood flow;
And let your love grow-

And all you are;
And all you can be;
And all you are with;

Give
And Give;
And Give;
And Give!!!

Be not single and small
But Live
And Live;
And Live;
And Live!!!

For living is about giving;
And giving is about living;
And loving is about living;
And loving is avout giving;

So Give;
And Love;
And Love;
And Live!!!

Joy!

Normally ExtraOrdinary

“A hero is someone doing extraordinary things, what I did was not extraordinary. It was a normal thing to do.” - Irena Sendler

Irena, risked her life, and suffered much torment to rescue 2,500 children from the Nazis. But in her eyes, her risk, torture, and soic self-sacrifice were just 'normal' things to do.

May we all be such people, that risking our lives and suffering for our neighbors is merely a 'normal' thing to do.

But if it is not normal to love so much, then let us be extra-ordinary, and may God bless us with the courage, the energy, and the strength to change the world such that the extrordinary becomes normal.

Peace,
LE

The Secret Name Of God

I know the secret name of God

It tells who God is
It helps me understand God and myself

It helps me to see the world with clearer eyes
It helps me to pray

It helps me to find myself when I am lost
It helps me to reconcile with others

It helps me to love
It fills my heart and soul

I overflow, I cannot contain it
It pours out of my mouth

Hold out a cup, cup your hands, open your mouth

Catch it

I can't hold it any longer

God's name is....




...Love
And God's name is Mercy
And God's name is Justice
And God's name is Prayer
And God's name is Sharing

God's name is Kindness
And God's name is Friend
And God's name is Strength
And God's name is Weakness
And God's name is Community

God's name is Peace
And God's name is Struggle
And God's name is Wisdom
And God's name is Much More than these words.

God's name is a road
A highway to the holy city
A secret that is meant to be shared:

It will fill you up
Now that you've got it,
Let it overflow on someone else!

When you Wake in the Night

When you wake in the night
Think to greet your God
Who is there in the quiet
To ignore him seems odd

Perhaps in the dim
Is a good time to pray
When the loud and the din
Are all put away

Raise a word to the Lord
With the small and the meek
With the chirping of crickets
With the little bat's squeak

Perhaps God will hear you
A bit better at night
And bless you, and heal you
And make things all right

And I pray that each person
Who finds they awake
Is blessed and healed
From trouble and ache

And I thank you, dear Lord
For answering my prayers
In the few minutes I sat up
And told you my cares

And now to my nest
I retire again
Bid Adeu to the night
And turn off my brain

Peace and Love to You who Know the Wee Hours as Well as Those who Greet the Day

LE

The redemption of Bully McFister

I looked up Bully McFister today
You know, the one that used to steal your lunch money, and hit you for no reason? Who liked shooting small animals with his bb-gun and bragging about it? At length? The one who liked to make fists with one knuckle sticking out and hit us as hard as he could in the bicep to give us bruises? That guy, you remember.

Well I felt like looking up the old crew and I 'Googled' his name. I thought I might at 'best' see a police blotter report of a robbery or a shootout, or even more likely nothing at all. But no, he pops right up, I see evidence of a creative soul, a sharp mind, an analytic, go-getting man who writes beautifully. I enjoy reading what he writes, and he is relatively prolific!

I squint at his picture in awe, trying to see the wise-acre who flicked boogers at us all from the back row, who enjoyed picking fights and causing trouble, who left us achingly writing our homework with bruised arms. A faint echo is all I get. Yeah, it's the guy. Who knew? Clearly my elementary-school self judged him prematurely, and I carried that predjudice forward. Somewhere inside the obnoxious troublemaker were the seeds of this new person. A person who contributes much to our world.

So Bully made good. I am glad that he did... ...it somehow seems redemptive. But I feel guilty for assuming he wouldn't, and wonder if we aren't failing many of our boys if they can be percieved as so futureless in school, and yet be so much once they hit the real world. I wonder what Bully's story is... Did he change all at once? Was there a series of transformative events in his life? Or did he just slowly start opening up, once he was away from the strictures, cliques and repressions of the school environment?

I wonder...

But I'm not sure I'll be reaching out to Bully to discuss all this. My arm is still sore.

Peace,
LE


'Bully McFister' is a fictional name that I made up to relate this story, but the story itself is true. For anyone who is actually named this, I pray your life is at least as redemptive as that of my 'Bully'. And for those working and suffering with today's 'Bullies' I ask you to take note. God is everywhere, indeed. Maybe your 'Bully' needs an outlet, a friend, a big brother, or a role model, maybe the investment in him is hard and painful, but he has real potential too. (And I reccommend thick sweaters to protect your arms.)

Living Into Our Call

We all have a vision, I think, of our 'best self';
The self we hope to be,
And perhaps are meant to be.

A self who is uniformly good,
A self who is uniformly kind,
A self who is uniformly fair,
A self who has a special kind of wisdom,
A self who walks with God.

Visualize that self.
See that parnership with the Almighty.
Call forth your faith;
And walk that path.

Acknowledge and put aside thoughts and deeds that do not belong to your best self.

Put on the white robe of faith and walk with the Lord. Be your best self when you greet people, when you work, when you are with family, when you dine, when things go well, and when they go wrong.

Reframe your thoughts, words, and deeds from the perspective of your best self, and as if you were already living the life you imagine that this faithful self lives. Don't just count your blessings; that is for beginners; SEE yourself as blessed.

Envision your body, glowing with love and light. You are God's hands here on earth - Reach out and create, heal and help.

And when you stumble, pick yourself back up, admit your mistake, put your robe of faith back on, and go back to work.

You ARE blessed, and you ARE needed, more than you know or imagine.

Inspired by this, and St Paul.

It Moves Silently

Almost hidden, glinting faintly below the trees, under the bar-berry bush and the rabbits-foot fern, the still stream glistens, small wildflower-petals dotting its surface.

It moves silently through the marshy woods, its bed richly robed in the blackened leaves of last season, each leaf in turn covered with a fuzzy-looking blanket of light brown decay.

No noise makes the stream in this part of its journey, as its waters glide very slowly along. Nothing moves this quiet morning to stir its bed.

Each place in this world has its own peculiar beauty. Every spot is filled with Light. Each small place finds its own way to show forth the awe we share.

Take some time to worship in the silent manner of this stream.

May we may find many such moments of peace in our lives.

Discerning the Spirits

I can often see what website my visitors came from, and if they came through a search engine, what they searched for.

And many people come to my site looking to see if their dreams come from a holy, or evil source.

Not wanting anyone to go away empty handed who came seeking, let me share my thinking on this topic:

1) God is everywhere and in everything and everyone, and loves you, no matter who you are or what you have done. What does this have to do with dreams? Well, it is a fundamental premise, the foundation upon which the theology that energizes me rests, and it informs my understanding of dreams.

2) We are complex beings with many different, conflicting feelings and ways of thinking. Some of these we supress, ignore, set aside, or deny.

3) Our minds choose from our many life experiences and conditions to help us 'process' things which concern us both in our dreams, and in what we notice while awake.

4) Spiritual forces, internal or external, can and do influence us.

So....

5) As God loves us, a message from God will never count us, or by extension, anyone as hopelessly corrupt. Messages that state or imply worthlessness and hopelessness are not from holy sources.

6) God is unlikely to order you to break the ten commandments, or harm others. (Turn to the Bible for guidance.)

7) More generally, messages from holy sources should eventually make sense in the light of faith, community and love.

8) Share your dreams, visions, signs and insights with your ministers and friends in the faith, and listen to their advice.

9) Write your experience down, and return to it later for fresh insight.

10) Watch for coincidences that seem to confirm or contradict your thoughts.

11) Your dreams, however dark, may reflect repressed anger and other emotions about past harms or slights, and even chemical imbalances or reactions. You should seek psychological or psychiatric help with your visions, signs, and dreams if they interfere with your life in a negative way.

12) Holy messages will be confirmed by prayer.

Peace to you, and may God's blessings surround you!

Mending the God-road

Anger divides us from God

There is no question in my mind that anger, no matter how righteous, makes it harder to hear God.

Maybe anger is noisy, in a spiritual sense.

Maybe it is by its nature self-centered.

Maybe we tend to turn off our mind, and/or our judgment when we get angry, or feel like our anger justifies our not being in as much control.

What I do know is that no matter how justified my anger is, it tends to wall me off from my wells of inspiration, my unity with God, my one-ness with everything, and that is not good.

I suppose it may be I am not 'doing anger' well, and I don't want to say we shouldn't feel angry.

Perhaps the thing is to recognize and acknowledge the feeling, drill down into the 'why's of the feeling, vent to friends and safe sounding boards, but to move beyond anger as soon as we are ready.

But another element is focus. Life is busy for most of us. When my life is over busy, and I am being pushed from five directions (or pulled in them, if you prefer), I am also less connected. I try to bring God actively into what I do, to walk with God, but I don't remember as well in the business of life.

Sharing inspiration and love helps though. Telling someone the good news, that God loves them, helps. Writing a bit helps. Maybe that is sort of priming the pump of Faith... Share some of what faith you have stored away, and more and more comes out.

May you always find plenty of faith and love to share, and always be brave enough to share it.

Love,
LE

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.