Monday, 8 August 2016

Looking for Home

Evening meditation time in our dining room.

Months since I posted anything. 
 Months during which we didn't
actually make a progress around many churches
to find a new spiritual family,
as we had thought we would during Lent.

We could have made our home at either of the two we did visit,
 but seemed to have settled on the one nearest to us,
 and furthest away 
from the tradition those who thought they knew us
 would have expected. 

 For me the "bells and smells" felt like a coming home at last,
 and the sense of reverence,  and time
 to absorb the healing scripture enfolded in the liturgy
 were just what I yearned for. 
 I am not sure hubby feels quite the same,
though I know he appreciates the depth of it as much as I do,
 and we both love the people.

We have not been able to be as involved as we might like,
 mostly due to my continuing illness,
which began way back at the end of April,
and shows no signs of shoving off just yet. 
 It  began as a heavy chest cold and has progressed from there to breathlessness, temperature, general weakness,
antibiotics, and now, being on my third course of steroids,
 it has definitely outstayed it's welcome. 
 So no church for the last few weeks and odd absences before that. 

 In one way this is no hardship for me,
as I see the day to day presence
 of the indwelling Spirit as the mainstay,
 not a weekly appearance at a building,
but in another there is the need to be gathered
with a family of faith somehow.
  So, I guess what I am saying is
 there is still a sense of homelessness
and I am not sure how it will be resolved. 
 Set against my keen sense of flux in the Churches'
(meaning church universal),
situation in the world
 I find this exciting,
 as all liminal places are.

I am reminded of Jesus saying to Philip,
Have I been so long with you, and (yet) you have not come to know Me, Philip? 

There always seems such a depth of promise, as well as regret in those words don't you think?
  So much more to learn, to know, and to live...


P.S.  Lest the photo at the top of the post seems a bit "holy" or out of touch, it really is an example of how spirituality is at the heart or "home" of our lives, as it was taken just as I finished my time of quiet and left the room to watch a live television performance of Mrs Brown's Boys, the humour of which can only be described as "earthy". 
 We need the sublime and the ridiculous for wholeness don't we?  

Sunday, 14 February 2016

Into The Wilderness -Leaving what we know and have relied upon

This year Lent has taken on a particular and special meaning for me,
 as it coincides with my husband and I setting out
 from the church we have known as our spiritual family for a long time,
 on a journey of discovery which, at the moment anyway,
 feels like a true setting out into the wilderness.

We do not know where we are being led,
only that we must let go of where we have been,
really let go,
before we can discover where we are meant to be.

What makes this journey of discovery even more interesting,
(for interesting read difficult!), 
is that there are two of us.
Two very different people,
 each on their own intensely personal pilgrimage of faith,
hoping and trusting we will be brought to a place 
we will both recognise as "home".
The fact that we have been brought to this moment together
is a hopeful sign of that synchronicity of the Spirit that is all we look for.

Because this is still so new, and I grieve for fellowship we have left
 I felt I wasn't ready to start out on our search yet,
but hubby wanted to attend an evening communion
at a local Anglican church on Ash Wednesday, so it seemed fitting to go. 
In doing so we are starting our search with the words which accompany
the moment when the sign of the cross was traced on our foreheads
with ash, signifying repentance.

"Remember that you are dust, and to dust you shall return.
 Turn away from sin and be faithful to Christ."

Throughout my life I know that it is not my faithfulness,
 but the faithfulness of a God who has actively sort me,
 and led me,
 that has mattered,
and it is this that I rely upon.

My one prayer is perfectly expressed by this worship song.

Be Blessed

Tuesday, 9 February 2016

Celandine Morning Prayer

This morning for the first time for an age the rain has stopped lashing down
and the gale wind has dropped.
The sun is out,
so of course I am off into the garden to put washing on the line.

As I scan the borders noting the premature signs of spring, as well as the storm damage
 I spot the hardy celandines returning,
despite my best efforts to root them out each year.

I love to see their shining faces in the woodlands and hedgerows.
In the garden though, they form close knit rafts
overwhelming everything in their path;
weaving themselves into roots of perennials and shrubs alike,
so there is nothing else to do but dig everything up and separate them out-
and then replant.
Hard work, and increasingly, more than I can do.

Before I knew it I had my fingers into the cold wet muddy earth,
wheedling down the white thread-like stems to the root,
 then cupping them out between my fingers, little balls of earth and all.
Strangely, even as I did so,
 I was filled with wonder and respect at the resilience of life that pushes up,
 again and again.
There in the cold mud my heart sang to the source of life.

You who I know as Life,
 upholding all,
never turning away,
never failing,
but seeking always new ways to break out
and show yourself;
filling all created things with an expression of yourself
and calling forth the new in every moment,
fill us with such a force of life we cannot hold it in,
growing strong in the true and pure proclamation of you
 we are uniquely made to be,
even in our suffering, brokenness, ambition, and frailty.

Be Blessed

Monday, 1 February 2016

The First day of Spring?

Watching the moving news footage of a boat load of refugees 
being rescued from a sinking vessel off the coast of Samos,
 I witnessed their utter joy.
My heart ached As I thought about the long struggle still lying ahead
in their long search for a new, safer, and better, life. 

I couldn't help but wonder if,
 on the hard path which still lies ahead of them
 they may be tempted to look back at their moment of rescue
 as a bitter beacon of false hope, 
 serving only to mark their passage into some new darkness; 
or will they be able to use their memory of that moment
 to strengthen them in the belief 
that the promise of the new, and the good,
is still possible, and within their grasp.

Today, the first of February, is St. Brigid's day.
The day marked by the Celtic church,
in the middle of winter,
 as the first day of spring!

It was now, that Celtic spirituality chose to look 
beyond the cold bleak days they were still enduring
to take account of the buds becoming full,
 and the pure white snowdrops, (an emblem of St. Brigid),
 breaking from the dark earth.
In short, they looked to the re-awakening of all things
as the light returned, 
and the days lengthened on their patch of the good earth. 

We may know how it is to try and hold on in some winter gloom that has settled in us,
to have unfulfilled hopes which once burned bright,
but have all but been extinguished.

Is there some hope, or promise, you feared was lost
 that rises up in you now
crying out to shine into life and springtime newness ?
Is there something suggesting itself
 you could do right now
to give yourself the new impetus you need?
I love the words of John 1:4
which assure us that at the heart and meaning of our life,
 the very centre of our being,
 is a Christ light shining.

May your hope be re-kindled, and come to the full light of it's dawning,
so your unique expression of the Christ light within you will shine forth
as surely as the winter light will lengthen into spring. 
If you follow this blog you will know how I love this song by Luka Bloom.

Don't Be afraid Of The Light That Shines Within You.

Listen And Be Blessed

Monday, 4 January 2016

Taking Our Place for the New Year


These words from Father Richard Rohr seemed so pertinent,
 I posted them on my facebook page as a start to the new year.

Saying yes to life isn't always that easy of course,
 and to do so we must really trust that "life" knows what it is doing.

  Even for those who know the one who called himself
 the way, the truth, and the life,
there is the deep pull to rely upon oneself when all is said and done. 
 There is always that little voice suggesting,
God helps those who help themselves.
 If I don't get this done who will? 

This is the bridge over the river Monnow at Skenfrith
 which sits beside the excellent Bell Inn.
When it was still a quiet country pub,
 the landlord had an old dog who used to suffer greatly when the weather got hot.
  To escape the heat he would wade into the river,
and stand for hours at a time with the water swirling around him,
 just down stream of the central arch of the bridge,
 always facing upstream.
   Always towards the source.

Today, and every day,
we may have little or no time to stand still,
or even give our minds relief from the constant battering of life's demands,
but we can set ourselves to trust,
 and our hearts to rely upon,
 the source of the stream in which,
 and from which,
we all come. 

Take a breath just where you are,
 and know you are held in the stream of life and love which carries us all.

Take frequent breaths throughout your day,
and find that source beyond the pressure of the moment,
 in that one thing for which even now,
 you can say thank you.

Do not be afraid.