Finding Joy -or- A Light In Dark Places

Meditations:

Daniel 12:3 And they that be wise shall shine as the brightness of the firmament; and they that turn many to righteousness as the stars for ever and ever.


Isaiah 26:19 Thy dead men shall live, together with my dead body shall they arise. Awake and sing, ye that dwell in dust: for thy dew is as the dew of herbs, and the earth shall cast out the dead.


John 14:23 Jesus answered him, ‘Those who love me will keep my word, and my Father will love them, and we will come to them and make our home with them.


John 15:10 If ye keep my commandments, ye shall abide in my love; even as I have kept my Father's commandments, and abide in his love.
John 15:11 These things have I spoken unto you, that my joy might remain in you, and that your joy might be full.
John 15:12 This is my commandment, That ye love one another, as I have loved you.

 For many, these are hard times.  Times when we find it hard to do the next thing, hard to move ahead, when we perhaps wish that there was just some way to give up.  Times when we remember joyful times and wish for them again, when we miss our loved ones who are gone from us, when we feel we cannot move on.

If someone could show us a way back to joy from these hard, sad, dark places, would we not seize it and follow it, like a lover follows his or her beloved, like a bee follows the scent of nectar, like a bird or squirrel following a trail of seeds?

I have the way, but it means giving something up.  Here it is, in six steps.  Think of it as a half-price twelve-step program:   

1. Give Up
2. Smile
3. Love
4. Make Do
5. Help Others
6. Start Over

Give Up:  Give up your hurts and pains, your feelings of being subject to injustice and cruelty, your need to nurse your injuries, your sense that your rights and entitlements have been crushed.  Forgive whomever you need to, and put these wrongs out of your mind.  They are not helping you.  Give them up, new and old.  Many more hurts will come, and you will have to give them up in turn. 

Smile:  Because you are in God’s hands, and because it will give you courage, and encourage those who are with you.  This is a battle, and if we fight it with courage, we are assured of our victory.  Smile for courage, for yourself and others.

Love:  Because when you love, you invite God into your life, and love reminds you of how much you care for others. Remember, our care for each other is a good part of why we are here.  Love each other, and remember to love those who are difficult to love.  Remember that you have been unlovable yourself at times, and others have loved you anyway.  Honor that love by multiplying it.

Make Do:  Decide what you really need, and make do with that, and try and be smart with your time and abilities.  Find the best way forward you can for now, and keep your eyes open for the next practical and healthy opportunity.  ‘Make Do’ means no wallowing in self-pity, no giving in to despair.  It means you step forward and say ‘Here I Am’ and ‘What Can I Do Now.’

Help Others:  No matter how little you have, you can help others.  Sometimes helping is as little as a smile, or an ‘I Care’ said (or written) with feeling, or a listening ear - sometimes it is much, much more.  Everyone can give.  Figure out how much giving you can reasonably do, and do it.  Make time to touch other people’s lives.  Seek out those in need, and make a difference.  Do this faithfully, carefully, lovingly, practically, and with a smile, and you will find joy in your heart.  This is the joy of Christ.  Cherish it.

Start Over:  Start over in a better place, emotionally and spiritually.  Reset your needs, and your attitudes.  Let go of desires for things that are high-maintenance and expensive, and latch onto the practical and reasonable.  And in that spirit, start over at the beginning of this list, happily, prayerfully, thoughtfully, and with care for yourself and others.  

And if you do these things, you will be truly blessed.


   With Love,
          LE

I Believe

Antiphon:   Love rejoices in the truth

I believe in God the Creator,
Who gives us breath and life,
Maker of all that is.

I believe in Jesus the Christ;
Wholly God and Wholly Man,
Who was conceived by the Holy Spirit,
And was born to a maid named Mary,

Who was tormented by Pontius Pilate,
Was crucified, died, and was entombed.
Who ministered to the dead,
And whom the gates of hell and death cannot restrain.

Three days after his death, he arose,
And ascended into heaven,
He sits on the right hand of God the Creator.
He shall come again to judge the living and the dead.

I believe in the Holy Spirit,
The Church, the Body of Christ,
The communion of saints,
The forgiveness of sins,
The resurrection of the body,
And the life everlasting.

Throw Me Away

Proposed antiphon: God blesses us and keeps us, and hereafter will make us new

Sometime in late spring
The pansies were discarded
Dumped in the common area
Behind the houses
Where the blackberries grow
And the morning glories dance
Twisting from cane to cane

There the soil is rich,
Full of grass cuttings and bits of bark
Discarded potting soil
Leaf mould and pine needles -
The detritus of years past

There the essence of green life
Spirals up like slow flame
Through the stems and leaves
Through the curling growing tips
And into the air

You can smell it, see it
Wafting from the full petals
And shining from the generous faces
Of the pansy blooms that grew there
Burgeoning with beauty and life

Throw me away
Cast me aside
Into the dung-heap of creation
Let the sun beat down
And the wild rains fall
Let me bloom

I like this.

Perhaps related: A worn courderoy kind of life

Hold On

The land is grey
and cold winds blow
the rain spots down
mixed in with snow

The reeds sigh in
the the wind so cold
their roots hold tight
to mud and mold

The grass and reeds
are bleached light dun
by wind and rain
and distant sun

Around their roots
the mud lies black
around the ponds
ice-water, black

The ponds seem dead
abandoned, left
-of mammals, bugs and fish
bereft

The eagle eye
sees more below
within the depths
a greenish glow

Life perseveres
and will return
and send up shoots
and uncoil fern

Hold on through one more storm
and then
wild life will arise
again

Christianity is a Verb

I am the vine and you are the branches.

If you abide in me, and keep my commandments, my Father who lives in heaven will come and make his dwelling place in your heart, and I with him, and you will bear much fruit.
And my commandment is that you should love another as I have loved you. You are my friends if you keep this commandment. Go and bear fruit, my friends. If you keep my commandments, the fruit you bear will not be like that which rots or withers, or fades away, but which will last, and will grow – that will bear seeds that will grow in turn and lead to more fruit.
So bear much fruit, and do not despair if you are persecuted, because before you were persecuted, so was I, and when you are persecuted you lay up treasure in heaven. Show mercy and do justice, and love one another. The commandment is not hard. -And if you do you shall live in me, and I in you. And you shall have everlasting life and great reward in heaven.

All My Love,
Your Brother.

Hope for the Hopeless

I found myself in a valley, and the floor of that valley was strewn with bones.

Human bones.

Dry, dusty, no life in them, nothing in them that anything could live on.

And a voice said to me: “Can these bones live?”

Live? They are the essence of death!

“Prophesy over these bones! They shall live!”
“Sinews shall grow, flesh and skin shall cover them, breath shall enter them and they shall live!”

So I spoke the word of the Lord, and flesh came upon the bones, and breath entered them, and they stood upon their feet, a living multitude.

And you shall know that I am the LORD, when I open your graves, and bring you up from your graves, O my people. I will put my spirit within you, and you shall live, and I will place you on your own soil; then you shall know that I, the LORD, have spoken and will act," says the LORD. -Ezekiel 37:1-14

Photo Credit Rob Wakefield

Friend of Mankind

Listen and compare to our Judeo-Christian stories of Jacob and Christ's resurrection in this, the legend of how Hiawatha obtained Maize (corn) to ease the hunger of humankind.

     "From the Master of Life descending, I, the friend of man, Mondamin, Come to warn you and instruct you, How by struggle and by labor You shall gain what you have prayed for. Rise up from your bed of branches, Rise, O youth, and wrestle with me!"

     Faint with famine, Hiawatha Started from his bed of branches, From the twilight of his wigwam Forth into the flush of sunset Came, and wrestled with Mondamin; At his touch he felt new courage Throbbing in his brain and bosom, Felt new life and hope and vigor Run through every nerve and fibre.

     So they wrestled there together In the glory of the sunset, And the more they strove and struggled, Stronger still grew Hiawatha; Till the darkness fell around them, And the heron, the Shuh-shuh-gah, From her nest among the pine-trees, Gave a cry of lamentation, Gave a scream of pain and famine.

     "'T Is enough!" then said Mondamin, Smiling upon Hiawatha, "But tomorrow, when the sun sets, I will come again to try you." And he vanished, and was seen not; Whether sinking as the rain sinks, Whether rising as the mists rise, Hiawatha saw not, knew not, Only saw that he had vanished, Leaving him alone and fainting, With the misty lake below him, And the reeling stars above him.

     On the morrow and the next day, When the sun through heaven descending, Like a red and burning cinder From the hearth of the Great Spirit, Fell into the western waters, Came Mondamin for the trial, For the strife with Hiawatha; Came as silent as the dew comes, From the empty air appearing, Into empty air returning, Taking shape when earth it touches, But invisible to all men In its coming and its going.

     Thrice they wrestled there together In the glory of the sunset, Till the darkness fell around them, Till the heron, the Shuh-shuh-gah, From her nest among the pine-trees, Uttered her loud cry of famine, And Mondamin paused to listen.

     Tall and beautiful he stood there, In his garments green and yellow; To and fro his plumes above him, Waved and nodded with his breathing, And the sweat of the encounter Stood like drops of dew upon him.

     And he cried, "O Hiawatha! Bravely have you wrestled with me, Thrice have wrestled stoutly with me, And the Master of Life, who sees us, He will give to you the triumph!"

     Then he smiled, and said: "To-morrow Is the last day of your conflict, Is the last day of your fasting. You will conquer and o'ercome me; Make a bed for me to lie in, Where the rain may fall upon me, Where the sun may come and warm me; Strip these garments, green and yellow, Strip this nodding plumage from me, Lay me in the earth, and make it Soft and loose and light above me.

     "Let no hand disturb my slumber, Let no weed nor worm molest me, Let not Kahgahgee, the raven, Come to haunt me and molest me, Only come yourself to watch me, Till I wake, and start, and quicken, Till I leap into the sunshine"

From Hiawatha; by Henry Wadsworth Longfellow, 1856

A Worn Courderoy Kind of Life - Reprise

This is a reprise of one of my favorite posts (originally posted here), while I am mulling a variety of things including faith, the Trinity, completeness, flawed realities and the like. Enjoy!

A Worn Courderoy 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.

Peace,
LE

Outrageous Easter

In my dream we were planning the funeral of a good friend, someone we loved a lot.

We were just getting started, gathering around a large table.

Family and friends were there, and around the table there were several who did not feel wlecome, or worthy to sit, and we were encouraging them to do so.

There was room for all.

And once we settled, and had started discussing, we realized a funny man was behind us...
...painting huge Easter eggs on the picture window that was there.

Even funnier, he didn't paint from his imagination, which you might think he would with such a simple subject. Instead, he had a friend who was arranging and holding large colorful Easter eggs so that he could paint them 'from life', draping fabric about them, and positioning them just so.

We talked about the two of them, and thought they were just a bit crazy.

But upon waking, I am not so sure.

In your times of mourning may you find moments of outrageous Easter.

LE

This Painful Journey

We are born in pain, and its sharp claws prod us throughout our lives. They are never far away. Pain helps us to learn how to stay healthy, how to avoid harm. But at the end of our journey, pain seems worthless. When there is nothing to be done, when no cure will suffice, pain can be an unbearable burden that must be carried anyway. And so we bear it. We share it with Christ, whose capacity for pain knows no bounds, we distract ourselves, we hang on for one more moment. Perhaps we yell, pound our fists, even go a little mad.

Soon, soon, the cool waters will come, the baptismal waters will return, lapping higher, taking away the pain, washing you clean, submerging you in the comfort of Christ. And you will rise, dry, and clothed in white robes of love, ready to join the feast of the lamb.

Today is painful, today is hard, today there is still a race to run, a struggle to be finished; but tomorrow is swiftly coming, when the bridegroom will take your hand and lead you to the great city where you will join in the great marriage feast, where you will dine on true food, and quench your thirst with living waters.

And then, together with those who have gone before and those who come after, you will take up the great song, the masterwork that creates, encourages and binds. And you will have true joy as you have never known it.

May you find your peace in the Lamb

After 2 Timothy 2

Remember Jesus in your sufferings, and if you are chained, remember that the word of God cannot be chained. Endure for the sake of the world, that the world may also obtain salvation, for if we die with Jesus, we will rise with Christ, and if we endure we will also reign with him.

Jesus cannot save us while we deny him, but he remains faithful to us, seeking us and consoling us when we despair. Even in our denial, in our guilt and sin, Jesus must remain faithful to us, because he cannot deny himself, and there is great hope in that. Jesus is our redeemer, and seeks our redemption, so seek to return to, and keep true to Jesus, even as he keeps true to you.

Yours in Faith
LE

When We Fall

Hurtful things
Done again and again
Maybe not intentionally to hurt
But not avoided
And returned to
And repeated.

Things we shouldn't do
Things we should do in moderation
That we do to extreme
Things that harm ourselves
Things that harm others

We all make mistakes
We all do things that are wrong
And we often, too often repeat them
Minor addictions
Bad habits
Sins and crimes

Sometimes they sneak up on you
You don't realize you are slipping
Sliding
Falling into sin

Try to keep God first
Keep God in your mind and make sure what you are doing is good.
And when you slip
Apologize
Try to make things right
And start anew

"I Will, With God's Help"

LE

Wasteland Pictures

Not so long ago, I published a post entitled Wasteland. I thought it might be neat if you got to see what I saw, and so here are some pictures from the very wasteland I was writing about:

Some grapes growing next to a cable supporting an electrical line...

Some immature raspberries... Today I see that some of them are ripe and that they are plump and lovely BLACK raspberries, and that many have been eaten by the little critters who live here.

And a funny bug on milkweed blossoms:

May your day be equally full of beauty in unexpected places.


P.S. I have replaced the picture on this blog of 'St Kevin's Chapel' with a picture of a grasshopper, as perhaps more appropriate. The insect in question was only briefly held and released back where it was captured. No grasshoppers were eaten or harmed in any way in the production of this blog.

Wednesdays

This post has been lightly edited since first posted

You might think that Monday starts the week
Or maybe Sunday.

You might think Friday ends the week, or maybe Sunday again.

But Wednesday is the middle.
Most certainly the middle,
The center of the week.

Thursday and Friday and Saturday and Sunday have particular liturgical connotations. Church Fathers, Christian theologians and mystics have suggested that Sunday and every day be a participation in the great Eighth Day, when Jesus rose; and that Saturdays remind us of Holy Saturday in holy week, and that Fridays all remind us of Good Friday, and that Thursdays remind us of Maundy (or perhaps Agape) Thursday. Each is rich in tradition.

But Wednesday is kind of like the end of 'ordinary time' - the last day before the mystery and passion is revealed.

Where does Wednesday sit liturgically?

And what devotions do you add to Wednesday?

Perhaps Wednesday should remind us of Ash Wednesday?

Should Wednesday be a solemn day of preparation?

Or is it the last regular day before you start thinking about the weekend?

Much as I like a good party, our current culture's celebration of 'hump day' seems wrong-headed.

Is what we are doing with our work-days, our weeks so very useless, unfulfilling, and without reward that we must celebrate when the week is half over?

It seems like a disgraceful way to view what we do with our lives, and not how we should value or spend our limited time here.

Instead, perhaps Wednesday, in the weekly cycle, is where we make our transition from living in the eighth day, to preparing to meditate on Christ's passion again.

A joyful but serious day, a day of preparation. A day to express love, to share, to care, to help, to do little things, a day to finish one thing and begin anew.

May God bless you in all your days.

Love,
locust-eater

Wasteland

...
Railroads are by their nature surrounded by wasteland.

Their roadbeds are not usually considered pretty, their switching areas, rusting signals and overhead electric lines are eyesores, and the trains that travel them are loud, discoraging the close encroachment of the neat lawns and dwellings of residential suburbia.

And the odd angles that the rail-beds make with roads, property lines, and each other create wedges of land that are virtually impossible to put to any use, even if someone wanted to do so.

And so they are left fallow, ...and life finds them and springs up.

The odd-shaped wedge behind the train station where I wait in the morning teams with life and is laden with ripening wild fruit;

raspberries and blackberries and grapes and choke-cherries, rose-hips and milkweed, and wild herbs and seeds - eaten by silly baltimore orioles (singing 'oh-boyeee!') and robins and sparrows and mocking-birds and chipmunks. ...and these are likely just the bold ones, who dare show themselves while I am there.

The amount of life per square foot is amazing. And to create this beauty, we just had to give it space. We abandoned it. We ignored it. We left it alone.

This was a waste-land, useless.

Sometimes we feel that way about ourselves, about parts of our lives, about people and places. But perhaps they need just a little space, some light, and a bit of water. Just a wee opportunity for growth and creation; time and space for God to enter in, and fill the wasteland with life.

May God enter all the abandoned places in our lives, all our waste-lands, and make them bloom and be fruitful.

And may we be wise enough to allow space for life, to leave spaces for the wild magic of God to take place.

Love,
Locust Eater

Related:
Wasteland Pictures
Seeing Truth in the Wasteland
God’s Sheep are Confused

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.

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.