I love my morning retreat.
A bird chortles at the cat in his yard.
An oriole sips grape jelly.
A holy breath plays the leaves
to make a sacred song.
And somewhere
in the distance
people begin their work.
Soon I will join them in the day's labor
Please little morning retreat
come with me as I go.
I am always amazed how things I read seem to come together into a seamless message even though they are from very different sources. This morning I read in Luke:
What is the kingdom of God like? It is like a mustard seed which a man took and threw into his garden: it grew and became a tree, and the birds of the air sheltered in its branches. Luke 13:18-19
I was taken with the thought that the man simply throws the seed into the garden. He does not plant it. He does not water it. He does not seem to cultivate it in anyway. And yet it grows and flourishes. Also, it does not simply grow to minister to humanity, it grows to be shelter for all of God's creatures. It is, itself, a created manifestation of God's love.
That alone gave me something to chew on. As I let those thought sit and brew I picked up another book. "Psalms of Praying" by Nan C. Merrill. (A GREAT book by the way.) After reading rendition of a psalm I looked through her preface for this tenth edition I read:
To pray is to be transformed. We become One in the Silence with pray-ers from every country who are scattering seeds of love and light into the chaos; thus, we blanket the world with aa web of peace.
We scatter seeds, we throw seeds out into the garden of creation by the very act of praying, meditating, interacting with the divine, however we name that divine. Could we in fact change the world by the very act of our prayers? Are they the tiny seeds of the mustard plant that will shelter all of creation in love?
Just something to ponder today.
And so...let us pray...........
Invited into the palace, she brought with her all the love and enthusiasm of a child. The world was new. Her joy was golden and shimmered to the delight of all who would see.
She fell in love with the king and he with her. They lingered together and touched one another and sighed. Days passed. Christmas, the time for giving arrived. She waited with anticipation to see what delight the king would give her.
Finally the anticipated moment came. The king took her up into his arms and offered her a ring of marriage, of union with himself. She gasped. How could she accept the highest treasure of union with her king? She brought nothing of such magnitude to give to him in exchange.
In fear, in confusion, in sadness she rejected the offer and ran away. In darkness, and alone, she labored to find what there was of value that she might create to give to the king. Others came and taunted her. She would never, could never be worthy. Still she struggled. She labored in hope of being worthy.
The king, saddened by her assumptions, sent messengers to remind her that he had already created her worthy. He had endowed her with all that he had ever hoped she would give him. He had created the magnificent flowers of the world that lasted but a day. Why would he have not also created her with such beauty and magnificence? It was her that brought him joy.
We too are wonderfully made. Why will we not also receive? Simply receive.
Every bird knows God's will for a wing
Falling becomes flying without thinking a thing
What's written on the heart, cannot help but sing.
Every bird knows God's will for a wing. (Peter Mayer)
I sit here wondering at all my failures. I question my abilities to do Spiritual Direction. My questions never seem to be the ones that take the other deeper. I question my ability to be a hospice chaplain. Is my hope for spiritual interaction driven by my own need? Or is my hope that the request for a chaplain is a hope for spiritual encouragement? Of course, then I must come back to what Spirituality is.
It is all too complicated for the head to comprehend and sort through. Instead, what is it that is written on my heart? What if I sing those words and not worry so much about the words others (or myself) think I SHOULD sing? The head grows weary thinking such questions.
You too?
Let's make a deal. Let's spread our wings and see what happens!
blessings one and all!