I Dare You to Read This!

God loves you and you are His by grace and nothing else. You are a gift--just the way you are--and He delights in you. His love is simply unconditional and has been, always--long before your time ever came. 

You search on the edges of spirituality in you studies, perhaps your poetry, but you reject even the possibility of belief in His love. Yet your actions often reflect Him to others--patience, kindness, honesty, peace, goodness, gentleness . . .

You are seeking . . . why . . .?
 

Because a tiny hot coal in your gut relentlessly urges you to. You don't know what it is, but it calls to you, and you are simply driven to your heritage--like a fledgling homing pigeon mysteriously drawn home . . . home . . . home . . .

I dare you to take the chance! Seek out a believer-- everyone of you know one, because you know me, but you know others and it doesn't have to be me. Just give Him a chance and make contact with the believer. Let go of the weak, clingy part of you that keeps you where you are, and dare to listen to a believer.

I'm telling you it's for you, it's real! God is not a religion, but rather a deity! All powerful. I have seen His power.  He can transform your life, bring you Joy, Hope, Peace, and Love deeper than you can imagine!! I know because He has rescued me.

What could it hurt to give Him a chance?

Contact me or another believer. 

On the Advent of Advent

Labor Pains

My year begins

as the rest begin to end;

my baby new year colors in

orange and rust Crayons,

In mauve and crimson markers,

and pied pencils . . .

blending softly

the subtle shades of

sable, russet,

auburn and olive.

The harvesting

of a year’s worth

of dreams and nightmares,

twelve months of

weekly aspirations

frustrating failures

sweet smiles,

all the heart and struggles

of a year

held in straw baskets--

a bounty of a life

bounds through the

crispy soft days leading

towards a Baby in a manger,

a starbright lantern hanging

on God’s finger leads the way…

My year folds its bounty into

crimson and evergreen

blankets to cuddle the

now white Innocence

born into this needy heart, then

the grays and blacks of winter’s

monochromatic mysteries

steal my breath and
Death envelops life

in a warm comforting cloak—

so like the Beginning, but

too like the end . . .

falling asleep is simple, easy,        

when a person 
freezes to death . . .

Pain is the last mark of living,

the time to gasp and rise again

a phoenix,

the antithesis of cold retreat!

So tender a seclusion,

giving thanks and Baby Jesus,

the love they radiate

wards off the night, their birth cries echoing . . .

Death passes over

once again painted away by

The Blood of the Lamb.

When the last of the jams of bounty leave the cellar

in their reverent stained glass jars, tiny green living things

come once again to head to their golden crimson russet

ends, and Life begins.

Lively 9/2012

Spiritual Leaders

A beloved pastor, Fr. Harry, celebrated his fifty-four years as a priest and  I was a part of this kind shepherd's flock some 30+ years ago.  As I sat in the pew of the small one hundred two year old chapel, I thought about the ministers and priest I have known throughout my life, wondering what it was that sent me more than one hundred miles on a Sunday afternoon to see this man I had not seen in fifteen years, not had as my pastor for thirty.

I have had many pastors throughout my fifty-eight years, both Methodist and Roman Catholic, but few were spiritual leaders to me. Most seemed wonderfully led by the Bible, while only a few blessed ones were on a level where I truly believed they were led by God, inspired through their prayer--even in the things they said when I privately sought their counsel.  While most have preached inspired sermons or been very kind, these few have shaped my understanding of faith and how I see God because I knew they had heard Him many, many times. I could see it clearly in their eyes.

My current Methodist pastor is one, this one, another. As I sat in that hard pew celebrating the mass with Fr. Harry and as I listened to him I knew the answer.  Love. The love that is God filled that man--I could see it in his eyes at eighty as clear as I did when he was only forty-eight and I was not yet thirty.   His inspiration came from a personal relationship with Jesus Christ.

The way I see it,  whether Methodist pastors, Catholic priests,  nuns, or  friends, others have led my spirit through their conversations with God. I can see the light of God in their eyes.  Such a pleasure, love.   Such a gift.

Enough said.

Beginning to See

I am beginning to love myself, beginning to see potential for passionate and inspirational work in what future I have before me, yet every time I reach to embrace these feelings, it scares me. My heart shuts like a trap, opening for everyone but me. 

Since I was old enough to think on such things, (about 10 years old)  these feeling have seemed selfish and embarrassingly conceited. When my heart begins to soften, a million personal sins come to mind to harden it right back up, again. Climbing the walls seeking approval is exhausting. Trying to function without my own support is fruitless.

In turn, then, I find myself repeatedly dissatisfied; my shutout soul sitting outside the wall of my heart, once again put in my place where I belong.  It is cold and lonely--not conducive to being of any use to anyone else; not stable enough, full enough, to serve God. Certainly not a joyful place by any means.  Yet, I see hope these days!

I am beginning to understand my Christ, to really get the Truth, and actually believe God's love is meant for me.  I am beginning to sustain what, before I was only able to catch and hold in fleeting, precious moments, like a wild bird, or silvery minnow. 

I am beginning to Trust that God is inside my soul!  I am starting to Believe that my earthen vessel and its God given soul is very worthy of my heart's embrace, my own love showered over it like a child, cherished and forgiven; cuddled and renewed. I am beginning to heal.

Hebrews 10 outlines everything I need to remember.  It is beginning to feel like a handbook of self-love; the Prayer Warrior's Guide to Forgiveness;  a Survivor's Guide to a Full Heart.  I think I will read every word of it everyday, then maybe the next time I start to slam the door in the face of my soul, I will remember Christ is inside, and instead, offer to wash my feet.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

 Hebrews 10

The Sacrifice of Jesus

 ^1-10The old plan was only a hint of the good things in the new plan. Since that old "law plan" wasn't complete in itself, it couldn't complete those who followed it. No matter how many sacrifices were offered year after year, they never added up to a complete solution. If they had, the worshipers would have gone merrily on their way, no longer dragged down by their sins. But instead of removing awareness of sin, when those animal sacrifices were repeated over and over they actually heightened awareness and guilt. The plain fact is that bull and goat blood can't get rid of sin. That is what is meant by this prophecy, put in the mouth of Christ:

   You don't want sacrifices and offerings year after year;
      you've prepared a body for me for a sacrifice.
   It's not fragrance and smoke from the altar
      that whet your appetite.
   So I said, "I'm here to do it your way, O God,
      the way it's described in your Book."
When he said, "You don't want sacrifices and offerings," he was referring to practices according to the old plan. When he added, "I'm here to do it your way," he set aside the first in order to enact the new plan—God's way—by which we are made fit for God by the once-for-all sacrifice of Jesus.  ^11-18Every priest goes to work at the altar each day, offers the same old sacrifices year in, year out, and never makes a dent in the sin problem. As a priest, Christ made a single sacrifice for sins, and that was it! Then he sat down right beside God and waited for his enemies to cave in. It was a perfect sacrifice by a perfect person to perfect some very imperfect people. By that single offering, he did everything that needed to be done for everyone who takes part in the purifying process. The Holy Spirit confirms this:

   This new plan I'm making with Israel
      isn't going to be written on paper,
      isn't going to be chiseled in stone;
   This time "I'm writing out the plan in them,
      carving it on the lining of their hearts."
He concludes,
   I'll forever wipe the slate clean of their sins.
Once sins are taken care of for good, there's no longer any need to offer sacrifices for them.

Don't Throw It All Away

 ^19-21So, friends, we can now—without hesitation—walk right up to God, into "the Holy Place." Jesus has cleared the way by the blood of his sacrifice, acting as our priest before God. The "curtain" into God's presence is his body.  ^22-25So let's do it—full of belief, confident that we're presentable inside and out. Let's keep a firm grip on the promises that keep us going. He always keeps his word. Let's see how inventive we can be in encouraging love and helping out, not avoiding worshiping together as some do but spurring each other on, especially as we see the big Day approaching.
 ^26-31If we give up and turn our backs on all we've learned, all we've been given, all the truth we now know, we repudiate Christ's sacrifice and are left on our own to face the Judgment—and a mighty fierce judgment it will be! If the penalty for breaking the law of Moses is physical death, what do you think will happen if you turn on God's Son, spit on the sacrifice that made you whole, and insult this most gracious Spirit? This is no light matter. God has warned us that he'll hold us to account and make us pay. He was quite explicit: "Vengeance is mine, and I won't overlook a thing" and "God will judge his people." Nobody's getting by with anything, believe me.
 ^32-39Remember those early days after you first saw the light? Those were the hard times! Kicked around in public, targets of every kind of abuse—some days it was you, other days your friends. If some friends went to prison, you stuck by them. If some enemies broke in and seized your goods, you let them go with a smile, knowing they couldn't touch your real treasure. Nothing they did bothered you, nothing set you back. So don't throw it all away now. You were sure of yourselves then. It's still a sure thing! But you need to stick it out, staying with God's plan so you'll be there for the promised completion.

   It won't be long now, he's on the way;
      he'll show up most any minute.
   But anyone who is right with me thrives on loyal trust;
      if he cuts and runs, I won't be very happy.
But we're not quitters who lose out. Oh, no! We'll stay with it and survive, trusting all the way.

Northwoods Hymn

In the northwoods
God whispers in the
soft tenor rustle of
birch leaves dancing
in the winds as they come
sweeping across
blue silk waters
decorated in fine white lace.

In the northwoods,
God giggles in the
rich bass of a bullfrog
in the lazy jazz of a
loon tremolo
in the soft murmur
of a duckling
in the faithful gurgle
of lake lapping
shore.

In the northwoods
God loves
in the simple silence
and spacious solitude
of sweet repose
of quiet thoughts
grown meditatively
open and brave enough
to breathe God in
like air
to bathe in Him
like water
to grow in Him
like the prairies
to live in Him
and live
and live
and live.






Lively 6/26/2012
 

Seeking God

Real Miracles

I have many memories of miracles in my life. God has been proving Himself in my recklessness forever! Of those many examples, the one that stands out for me is when I lived in Evansville and was teaching at St. John's in Newburg, IN. 

I was late to work and speeding on a country road when my front tire hit a chuckhole throwing both front and back tires on the passenger side of the car off the road which then caused the whole car to veer off the right embankment right down into a deep ravine -- 10' or more down. All this happened in a split second and, still traveling at seventy miles per hour, in this time before seat belts, I was heading straight towards a solid concrete wall that had been poured beneath a driveway. 

I knew I was dead, I could see no way out and I remember asking God to forgive my sins and feeling very sad because of how much my death would grieve my mother and sister. In those few seconds, I was at peace with my God, when, without any jerk or warning, my car rose out of the ravine and sailed above the concrete!! Though I had not moved the steering wheel or touched either gas peddle or break, my car was literally flying five or six feet up in the air over the top of that driveway. 

I heard my own voice tell me to duck, to lean over, and even as I heard that in my mind I though, "I am gonna land really hard!" And I could see the top of my head hitting the roof of the car with sickening force, so I ducked way over and then I was landing on the other side of the concrete driveway, way down fifteen feet into the ravine on the other side. I landed so hard my back slammed into the roof of the car hard enough to knock the breath from me. 

Then all was still. I was ten feet down in that ravine so narrow my car barely fit. The dirt and grass walls of the deep ditch less than a foot from either side of my car. I fit in there as neat as a loaf of bread in a shoebox! Except for sore muscles, (especially my back!) I was unhurt and the car was fine, too--though the tow truck like to never figure out how to get it out of the narrow, deep ditch. 

The paramedics thought they would have to cut the top of the car off to get me out, but I told them I wasn't hurt, and wiggling sideways in the seat, I managed to shimmy out the driver's side window and they reached down under my arms and pulled me up to the edge of the road. I kept saying I was alright, but when I started to stand, my legs were pure rubber, so I just sat for awhile and waited, dissuading the paramedics from taking me away on a stretcher, watching as the tow truck guys and police marveled at the undamaged yellow Oldsmobile Cutless, and discussed how to extract it from it's earthen box . I remember telling them I managed to get it in there without a scratch, so could they get it out in the same shape, please?

People were shouting--those who were in cars following me, those who lived in the house whose driveway I had flown over--"Did you see that?? Did you see!?? It was a miracle!! God just picked up that car. I watched it!! God picked up her car right out of that ditch and placed it neatly on the other side of that cement wall!!  Lady, are you saved??"

Yes, I thought to myself; yes I am.

We Can Not Allow the Fire to Die in the Young!!

I just watched youth pour their hearts out in song for Christ all weekend at Greater Indy Chrysalis Flights #43 and #44. I watched what reaches them, and found relating to them easy.  With selections including music right from the radio mixed in with more traditional contemporary and old hymns, we created a space which had an exceptional effect on our potential for high energy--in all of us! 

The message all weekend was of the same Christ we all know and love; the presentation was even very school-like, with listening, discussing, note-taking, reporting out, but the addition of music weaving through the whole day and including that kind which they related to naturally helped them . . . relate!! This is not difficult to understand . . . 

What is this stubborness that makes us matured adults think we must only permit  services with music from our generations?  What are we so afraid will happen?  No one kind of music is going to prevail over all any more than it ever has.  Parishioners who do not relate to rock style presentations are free to attend other services. Sometimes I think we are afraid our passion will show, like the spirit within us is something we need to keep hidden, when showing spirit is what makes it grow stronger--like a plant exposed to the sun! 

I used to go to my church's traditional service for thoughtful prayer, meditation, edification in the Word, soul centering, then go to our church's contemporary service for renewal and empowerment. Now, our contemporary service, which used to be filled with singing, participating young people is devoid of the youth, with carefully styled contemporary songs . . . and fabulous musicians . . . but is the same as the traditional . . . I no longer go very much since I attended earlier in the day. The missing youth, who seem to demand, over all,  simple passion in music presentation, have taken the uncommon energy with them.

I get that power on the way home--singing in the car--from radio music, or CDs. Maybe that is okay, too . . . except . . . there is no community in that power, alone in my car, as it were. So, though I find energy to prop my faith, I long for the exquisite, long lasting power of community members reveling together in the innocent energy of young souls! I miss it. 

Maybe the answer is to ensure all of our young people attend and then after volunteer for Chrysalis Flights!  I will be there as often as I can.     Fly With Christ

http://www.todayschristianmusic.com/artists/genre/contemporary/

Finding Our Center in a World of Chaos

Dwelling in the Holy Spirit

As United Methodists, we believe we are filled with the Holy Spirit, but what does that really mean?  What does the Holy Spirit have to do with daily prayer?

With a little research, I found that “praying in the Spirit,” is mentioned three times in Scripture. In 1Corinthians 14:15 Paul says, “So what shall I do? I will pray with my spirit, but I will also pray with my mind; I will sing with my spirit, but I will also sing with my mind.” Ephesians 6:18 Paul, again, says,  “And pray in the Spirit on all occasions with all kinds of prayers and requests. With this in mind, be alert and always keep on praying for all the saints.” Then, finally, Jude 20 says, “But you, dear friends, build yourselves up in your most holy faith and pray in the Holy Spirit.”

 Praying in the Spirit does not refer to the words we are saying. Rather, it refers to how we are praying. Praying in the Spirit is praying according to the Spirit’s leading. It is praying for things the Spirit leads us to pray for. Romans 8:26 tells us, “In the same way, the Spirit helps us in our weakness. We do not know what we ought to pray for, but the Spirit Himself intercedes for us with groans that words cannot express.”

Of all the gifts given to mankind by God, there is none greater than the presence of the Holy Spirit. He works in the hearts of all people everywhere. Everyone has a “God consciousness,” whether or not they really understand it. We all know this—even very young children have “feelings” of right and wrong. We often call this a “conscience.”  The Spirit applies the truths of God to minds of people to convince them by fair and sufficient arguments that they are sinners. Responding to that conviction brings us to salvation.  Simply said--we do wrong, we know it to be wrong, we say we are sorry, and we are forgiven.   This is the Gift brought to us in Jesus, and the Holy Spirit is our Guide and Comforter, helping us learn to use this Gift to bring love to others and ourselves.

The Holy Spirit constantly seeks to guide us to Truth.   The Spirit’s presence within us enables us to understand and interpret God’s Word.   Jesus told His disciples that “When He, the Spirit of Truth, comes, He will guide you into all truth” (John 16:13).   We already know, too, this Truth, almost without thinking about it.  The fruit of the Holy Spirit brings us ever to Truth over and over each day.  As He dwells us, He begins the work of harvesting His fruit in our lives—love, joy, peace, patience, kindness, goodness, faithfulness, gentleness and self-control (Galatians 5:22-23). These are not works of our flesh, which is incapable of producing such fruit, but they are products of the Spirit’s presence in our lives.  When we look inward, the goodness we see is the Holy Spirit, so much a part of each of us, we may not even realize how well we know Him.

Therefore, as Christians, praying is like breathing. It is easier to do it than to not do it. Though we pray for a variety of reasons, prayer is always a form of serving God and obeying Him. Prayer should not be seen as our means of getting God to do our will on earth, but rather as a means of getting God's will done on earth.  We only need look to our inner Truth to see our needs. For situations in which we do not know God's will specifically, prayer is a means of discerning it. 
So, why do we pray? We pray because God commands us to pray, as Jesus prayed, as all who seek to know God, pray.  Praying in the Holy Spirit simply means to lean back in Him, safe and comforted, and confess our fears and mistakes--knowing we are encouraged and forgiven, loved and supported, in our daily worlds.  A Christian, then, cannot be “alone,” for all Christians dwell in the Father through the inner Spirit of Truth.
 

Shadows of Grief

Excerpts I

 Settling In

And so I lift the yoke

carefully, lovingly,

and with some effort

place it smoothly, firmly

on my waiting shoulders;

where I straighten it

slowly, respectfully

until it feels

balanced and bearable

wearable and terrible

and I lift my neck

my eyes to God

above me

see God around me

know God is in me

and I limp

back to

my

life.

Lively 2009

Coyote's Only Cry at Night

 

Vincent Van Gogh said, "The best way to know God is to love many things," and I think that, too. It is also said, "To be vulnerable is to be human at the most profound and enriching level," and I also believe that.

Practicing these beliefs is a sometimes painful way to live in this unfair, often harsh world, but I have found it to be the only way worth anything. The rest is an empty shell.

Without love, we aren't living at all, but rather only stumbling blindly in the dark toward nothing, in a barren, lonely world. To know love is to know God and illuminate the darkest moments. Staying connected to others is the key.

Trusting, loving, daring to reach out to others and to allow them inside, connects each of us to the Living Vine of Christ, the richest of all sanctuaries. I thank God every day for all those with whom I have connections. You each pour out love like rich, red wine into my parched soul.

In the end, love is all we take with us from this world. And all is enough.