He is Risen! (Easter Prayer) …

You have risen!
You have removed the stone that blocks the springs of life and hope.
With your loving hands you have embraced us and our fragile world.
You walk with us on every road we travel, you sit at every table where we gather.
You have risen!
Stay with us too, as you did with the Emmaus disciples.
In times of darkness and chaos may we say
You have risen!
And then in joy and trust may we smile an Easter smile.
We make our prayer in confidence. Continue reading “He is Risen! (Easter Prayer) …”

Mud and Miracle (A Springtime Meditation) …

in time of daffodils (who know
the goal of living is to grow)
— e.e. cummings from Selected Poems

 

Sleeping In The Forest

I thought the earth remembered me, she
took me back so tenderly, arranging
her dark skirts, her pockets
full of lichens and seeds. I slept
as never before, a stone
on the riverbed, nothing
between me and the white fire of the stars
but my thoughts, and they floated
light as moths among the branches
of the perfect trees. All night
I heard the small kingdoms breathing
around me, the insects, and the birds
who do their work in the darkness. All night
I rose and fell, as if in water, grappling
with a luminous doom. By morning
I had vanished at least a dozen times
into something better. Continue reading “Mud and Miracle (A Springtime Meditation) …”

The Winters Will Drive You Crazy Until You Learn To Get Out Into Them …

But for me, winter has an even greater gift to give. It comes when the sky is clear, the sun is brilliant, the trees are bare, and first snow is yet to come. It is the gift of utter clarity. In winter, one can walk into woods that had been opaque with summer growth only a few months earlier and see the trees clearly, singly and together, and see the ground they are rooted in.

A few years ago, my father died. He was more than a good man, and the months following his death were a long, hard winter for me. But in the midst of that ice and loss, I came into a certain clarity that I lacked when he was alive. I saw something that had been concealed when the luxuriance of his love surrounded me—saw how I had relied on him to help me cushion life’s harsher blows. When he could no longer do that, my first thought was, “Now I must do it for myself.” But as time went on, I saw a deeper truth: it never was my father absorbing those blows but a larger and deeper grace that he taught me to rely on. Continue reading “The Winters Will Drive You Crazy Until You Learn To Get Out Into Them …”

Autumn Meditation: Letting Go …

Life starts all over again when it gets crisp in the fall.
— F. Scott Fitzgerald from The Great Gatsby

The Work of Autumn

In autumn we learn more about ourselves, perhaps, than in any other season. Having provided the harvest, Nature now makes everything bare. In this season Nature lets go of its abundant creation of the past year in a grand final display. Autumn marks the end of the growing season – a turning inward, a falling away of outer-directed energy. Leaves turn color and drop. The old leaves go back to the earth, enriching it to promote the coming of new leaves, a new harvest. Continue reading “Autumn Meditation: Letting Go …”