Communion Song

You have redeemed my soul
From the pit of emptiness;
You have redeemed my soul from death.

I was a hungry child,
A dried up river
I was a burned out forest,
And no one could do anything for me...

But you put food in my body,
Water in my dry bed
And to my blackened branches
You brought the springtime green of new life;

And nothing is impossible for you

(arrangementy by Jenny Moore)

This song was sung during the "circle of communion" at St. Benedict's Table tonight and each verse resonated inside me.  Another sweet Spirit blast, that I hadn't expected....thank you Father.

Distractions: A Meditation

I have had significant difficulty in keeping hounding thoughts, plans, dissapointments, ideas, responsibilites at bay.  Some is unrealistic , some totally doable.  Doubts, fears, failings, decisions I wish I could go back on, some I have no clue how it will turn out.  This battle is all in the mind, fought there and pushed to the back burner every morning as I roll out of bed.  This morning, same thing, same song.  Needed to focus, pulled out a little treasured book that has hundreds of Scripture readings and meditative quotes from deep thinking, godly Christ-followers.  Here is what I read (after Psalm 64):

"A great woman of the last century...was accustomed to say...:'think glorious thoughts of God--and serve Him with a quiet mind!'  And it is surely a fact that the more glorious and more spacious our thoughts of Him are the greater the quietude and confidence with which we do our detailed work will be.  Not controversial thoughts, or narrow conventional thoughts, or dry academic thoughts or anxious worried thoughts.  All these bring a contraction instead of expansion to our souls; and we all know that this inner sense of contraction or expansion is an unfailing test of our spiritual state.  But awed and delighted thoughts of a Reality and Holiness that in inconceivable to us and yet that is Love.  A Reality that pours itself out in and through the simplest forms and accidents, and makes itself known under the homelist symbols; that is completely present in and with us, determining us at every moment of our lives.  Such meditations as these keep our windows open towards Eternity; and perserve us from that insidious pious stuffiness which is the moth and rust of the dedicated life."
(Evelyn Underhill)

I know I want my window open towards Eternity today, I want to think glorious thoughts of God and serve him with a quiet mind. Sweet Spirit, grace me, us, today with Your peace, Your hope, Your mercy.

Amen.

Dumpster Diving

I'm sitting here, at my desk watching 2 guys, totally dumpster diving in each bin (the super big ones) on either side of our fence.  One guy is slamming a 2 by 4 into something that is crashing and smashing and creates quite a racket.  "Way to go, Brian!" yells his buddy, busy at the other bin.  Out snakes a long black cord in his hand, then another, looks like something from a computer.  Might be copper they are after, or parts of the old computer or tv to sell.  They are quite happy with the find, as they saunter away.  Wow, such is alley life at 5:30 pm Winnipeg time (West End that is, the surburbs are more quiet in the way of dumpster diving).

Met a friend today, a girl who used to attend our summer Bible club years ago.  She lives with her boyfriend's family when she comes to town.  She had a new haircut, glasses and purpose since the last time I had a soft drink with her at the cafe.  She told me she was at a funeral of a 23-year old cousin.  Ended his life.  "Guess he could take it no more" she said softly.  So, with many cousins and friends that have taken their lives on her reserve over the years, she is tired of it.  "I want to do a walk, from Vancouver to Prince Edward Island.  And I want to dance at each stop."  Cool.  So, why?  "I want to raise a voice for all the people, across Canada, I want to raise money for Youth Centers all over the north, on all reserves.  The youth need help, this issue is so huge."  What kind of dance would she do?  "Fancy dance, I would dance myself.  To have many watch and others join."  She was serious, so calm, so young....I thought.  I told her she would have to use alot of pairs of shoes, who would join her, how would she write her proposal for funding?  She was quiet, but seemed determined.  She would have her say, she would make her voice heard.  My friend is a unique lady....not many aboriginal youth would say that, would say she wants to raise awareness or that she wants to be a mentor to the many hurting, lonely, desperate young people that make up much of the population of the north.

As I walked home, fall leaves descending gently, I wondered...could I walk that far for justice, dance for the hurting, go through what she does and still have the emotional energy to plan and dream for the future?  For others, no less.  Yah, right...I hope she asks me to come along, I just may learn something.

Faith

Can't see it, that thing called faith, but you can sure hear it when it knocks at your door....

I was trying to make lunch for my two ravenous homeschooled kids, while talking on the phone (trying to talk low so one of my sons couldn't hear me) with my hubby.  It was a big blow-up the night before when both my oldest guys failed a hunting exam, money down the drain and ego's bust-ed, (as they would say).  They were ready to mash anyone who had anything to say about it, until Silas got hungry and he broke his no-supper and no-breakfast mad-fast.  So I was quietly conversing on the phone "that I think he's turned around, done his homework, eating...so far so good."   "Someone's at the door!" yelled Nate.  So I glance over to see, and said good bye and hung up the phone.

It's Simon (name change here for so many good reasons), lunch box in hand, waiting quietly for me to finish what I'm doing.  Lives in a boarding house across the alley from us and we've known him for about a year.  A dear Christian brother who battles with intense loneliness and depression.  When he's doing good, what a mountain of faith and scripture and insights...when he's down, its one of the hardest things to see.  I could see he was struggling, deep dark rings under his eyes, a shyness to speak but something urgent he needed to see me about.  Could we borrow the van for him to make a dr's appointment?  I shook my head, Steve has it, I'm so sorry!  He looked a little panicked but accepted that and said he'd call and cancel.  True to his nature, he looked at me and asked how I was doing...I told him it was a tough day, "why?" he asked.  I could see he was yearning to listen, be compassionate, those dark rings and heavy head couldn't take much more today, so I told him, "hey, you are having a tough day, I am having a tough day.  Let's have a tough day hug and pray to the Lord for grace." So we did, a hug, a desperate prayer for help and it knocked on the door, FAITH, and I heard it and recieved it and my friend did too, at least I hope he did.

We could not expect any favors, God doesn't promise to get us out of the Junk-of-the-Day Special.  But he can give us this cool little mustard seed of faith that helps us see beyond ourselves, to Him, into each other, to what is essential.  The sweet Spirit blast was on full flow this evening, healing, reconciliation, hope among our little family of five.  I want to ask Simon tomorrow if he recieved his portion too. 

The Hair Net of Violence

Don't ask me why this set of words grabbed me while I was making brownies for a 15-year old's special celebration Saturday afternoon.  I forget the name of the poet, but as she read, voice low and clear, on the radio on our stove, I was sucked into her vortex of potent words and descriptions.  "The hairnet of violence"...something so simple and ordinary, a delicate web of thread worn by grandmas, or McDonald workers flipping burgers.  Contrast with the word violence, harsh, exacting, terrorizing.

The 'hairnet' descends quickly, almost without warning.  Emotional violence, like physical pain, can be searing and unrelenting.  Secrets, screaming eyes, desperate prayers, thudding hearts, breaking, shaking, shattering, a drowning, "where's bottom?  where is up?  Is this really happening to me?".  Plunging into this violence of the heart with oneself, with others, can be devestating.  Who asks for this in life?  In our sons and daughters, our marriages, our neighbors?  Shattered dreams, a waking nightmare, when will I wake up?  Or a decision to die quietly, "it's better this way".  Maybe I'm too sensitive, maybe I need to be a little more calloused to pain, mine and others...show a brave front, draw up an inspirational line for my laptop on my desktop, and move foward.  Can I ignore the hairnet, it pulls my hair up out of the way, perhaps it hides something.  The way us humans flail and grab, then say I'm ok, your ok (while thinking murderous thoughts), and we draw menacing pictures and take too many pills and we are alone again with tortured minds and thoughts and annoying looks and smiles. 

The lady in the interview was asked, is this world bearable for you?  No, she replied, it's quite unbearable.  Me too, sometimes.  This morning my sons and I had a great chat on the days of creation and what sustains life.  The first noticable thing that God did was to create light.  There was no sun, nothing to cause it, except Himself.  Light, the energy that all life is based on but where does it come from?  What is its essence?  I asked my youngest, how can light exist without anything to produce it?  He said, God just did it that's all!  God is the source of light and in him there is no darkness at all.  In our grief and violent ways, our hearts are dark, chaotic, hypnotic and deceitful.  We cannot find hope in ourselves or our grand "ok-ness", our pride and vanity has created a whirlwind of shame.  His Light penetrates, dispells acidic darkness and brings the seeds of hope, life, healing, freedom.  I will grab hold of this truth, even when the Hairnet threatens to suffocate me with its violence, hate and darkness.  In sorrow and celebration we will wait for the revealing of His essence..... Light.