Suffering creates space enough for us
to know that we are alone
and in need of the omnipotent
and perfect love of our Maker.
It is not so large a price to pay
to see and step again
into and through
the small doorway of God’s peace.
It is the work we can only do from here
as our little selves;
mistaken mortals longing for Home.
About this women’s march… I went. And I’m glad I did. And apparently, a whole bunch of others did too. But here’s the thing: I really struggled with my decision to go.
I had to get to my own reasons and motives. I needed to pray for God’s idea for me and talk with friends. And when I did, I started owning that I was afraid, and worried that my walking might endorse un-peaceful protest which I am very much against. I worried that my showing up would look like full endorsement of some beliefs that I do not hold, and, here’s the really embarrassing part, I worried about what people might think of me.
At 62, still worrying about other’s disapproval. Continue reading What Freedom Looks Like
So what does a sixty-year-old woman running with a dog have to do with becoming a Spiritual Director?
Everything. In one picture I am instantaneously and joyously returned to the freedom of discovering more of the authentic Self, as God made me. The light. The shadow. The healed and the wounded Self as one of God’s beloved kids. Continue reading Desires of My Heart
By God’s grace and a bunch of really good people right here, I am standing in the sunshine of gratitude. And today can be about celebrating Trudy and the many gifts she shared with us.
Including one of her butterflies that’ll I’ll share with you. And a poem shared with me by a friend earlier this week.
Live life, love and have fun. I am pretty sure this is what Trudy would like for me to do. With love. Today. Continue reading Today
Yesterday was not a particularly good day. I wallowed and ate and watched tv and sulked and called out to God a few times but it was like yelling into the grand canyon… all I could hear was me – me – me. Well, that plus this incessant screaming in my head! Continue reading Rain On My Parade
In the personal sense: torque is the pull of doing what is wrong against the right that I know. Tensile is the test of how long I can continue thinking and behaving, in opposite directions than loving ways, without completely breaking, and falling apart.
Two very human conditions we live within; both displaying the existence of good and the good sense in each of us. Continue reading The Torque and Tensile of Tinnitus
May the shadows of the year fade in the sunshine of tomorrow.
Happy new year.