TO LINGER TOO LONG

I stood in the lobby and pushed the elevator button to go up to our tenth-floor hotel room. Several people soon joined me, and we chatted about the beautiful day while waiting for the elevator to arrive. When a few more minutes passed, I pulled out my phone to occupy myself. The wait continued, and I began to wonder if I should climb the stairs instead…

Most likely you have been in similar situations. When is the right time to try another option? Obviously, I find that the higher my destination, the more time I’ll give the elevator. The longer my wait (and the greater my frustration), the more I’ll consider climbing the stairs. There eventually comes that one threshold of time and effort, when I’m compelled to move and get on with my plans for the day.

Recently I’ve reflected on these elevator moments and the destinations I hope to reach in my life. I have a few dreams and goals I’d like to pursue but, like standing before the elevator doors, I’m often willing to wait. I’m willing to wait for an additional confirmation, or a more convenient time, or the completion of other obligations. I’m willing to wait if I believe there’s an easier way coming, especially for the greater challenges. Yet, as more time passes, the greater urgency I feel.

The difference is that this waiting doesn’t keep me from getting on with my day. If I’m unsure of my next steps, I can busy myself with other projects or other routines to pass the time (such as chatting or looking at my phone πŸ™‚ ). If I doubt my stamina for the journey, I can continue along the same level ground. If I assure myself that a better, proper time will be here soon, I can remain very patient. If I’m content in other areas, I can dwell in this feeling of anticipation and hope for quite some time.

I am apt to linger too long. 

Today I find an invitation to be more mindful in these “elevator moments” of life; to choose to…

enter the stairwell a little sooner – just to try the first few steps,
recognize that the stairs may be more difficult but also more certain,
understand that time is more precious than ease,
find that the effort is a gift of growth, too.

May I learn to regard all of life as an adventure to be explored, find the pursuit as worthy as the goal, understand that mistakes are also lessons, and trust that God goes with me – even into the stairwell.



Photo by Russ Ward on Unsplash. Thank you!

A PICTURE AND A POEM: UPHILL

JOURNEY

“Scenic View” the sign displayed,
but I’d have to take my time,
for the sign went on to warn me
of the steps and uphill climb.

I started out with vigor,
then the path curved to the right.
My steps are now uncertain
as the end is not in sight.

Will this be worth my effort?
I can’t see around the bend
to know where this is leading,
where and how this all will end.

But as I look around me
the forest, lush and green
is telling me to notice
the beauty of this scene.

And in the quiet moments
as I feel your presence near
I sense the current glory
of this journey, now and here.

My life is like a journey
toward a great and wondrous end
that yet remains a mystery;
I can’t see around the bend.

But you are always with me
leading further, going deep;
everything I need is here
in the company I keep.

So, even with the promise
of a future scenic view
let me savor every step,
every moment spent with you.



(Photo by Karen, taken at a rest area in Tennessee)



IN THE SPACE THAT IS US

“This is Something I Had to Go Through”
Sculpture by James Davis.

On a recent visit to Atlanta, our sons introduced us to the Atlanta Beltline, a new walking path that circles much of the downtown area. The Beltline replaces an old railway track and now connects neighborhoods, parks, businesses, restaurants, and shops. We found interesting artwork along the route, and this particular sculpture caught our attention. The artist’s purpose was posted on a sign near the sculpture:

This sculpture is about a particular moment in the artist’s life that he was afraid of. Universally, as humans we are all faced with challenges, adversity and fear. Once on the other side of a challenging situation, there can be clarity and the ability to see these moments as a positive that helped you discover the ability to move through. The piece encourages the viewer to stand where the artist stood but the moment is not defined by the artist. The viewer will bring their own moments they had to go through and no matter the differences between them, a connection is made.” ~ From Art on the Atlanta Beltline

The sculpture inspired several comforting thoughts…

The thick wall depicts our fears quite well. When we’re faced with a challenge, our fears increase because of the uncertainties, the unknown future before us. While the wall remains unbroken, we can’t see through our challenge to know what lies beyond. We also can’t determine how thick the wall is, to know how long or difficult the challenging time will be. We can only answer these unknowns by going through the wall of the challenge itself.

I love that the sculpture shows the struggle but not the struggler. James Davis intentionally does not define the moment, leaving each of us to consider our own challenges as we observe and reflect. I find the sculpture inviting us to ask, “As we face our own challenges, what do we have in the space that is us?”

We can be encouraged that “the space that is us” is equipped for such times. The space that is us contains the experiences and insights gained while journeying to this point, as well as unique strengths and abilities that will help us endure. The space that is us has been loved and mentored by people who will now cheer us on. Most of all, the space that is us holds God, who will equip, guide, comfort, and strengthen us as we enter every wall before us.

Finally, the sculpture reveals that in every challenge, the space that is us will remain for others who will one day face a similar wall. The space we have opened while working our way through adversity may not fully accommodate the next person, but it can offer some insight about the substance and duration of the challenge. Our unique space can provide a glimpse of the other side and offer some light for the journey. This space can instill courage and hope as others see that someone has gone before and made it through.

Our challenging experiences in life can transform us as we learn, trust, persevere, endure, and overcome.
Our challenging experiences in life can unite us with others as we – upon reaching the other side – help the next person through.

Universally, as humans we are all faced with challenges, adversity and fear… No matter the differences between them, a connection is made.”

Thank you, James Davis.

(Photo by Karen, Atlanta GA)

A PICTURE AND A POEM: DUST

“You are dust, and to dust you shall return.”

DUST

Formed from, returned to…
let me become as dust
here, now
so least, light, and lowly
that you, Spirit wind,
can gather me
hold me
carry and blow me
to dance in the ditches
to twirl through the tempests
to waltz across the wastelands
to move over the mountains
and to settle in the sanctuary
of your presence, your peace.



Genesis 3:19b NRSVUE (taken from https://www.biblegateway.com)
Photos by Karen

THE LENGTHENING LIGHT OF LENT

The season of Lent begins this week on Ash Wednesday, the 22nd. But today (Sunday, the 19th) is the Sunday of Transfiguration, the beginning of a more inclusive season, The Great Hundred Days…

In the spring issue of his newsletter, Quadratos Quarterly, author (Alexander) John Shaia shared a video about Lent that has given me a refreshing new way to observe the season. Based on ancient Celtic tradition, he includes the season of Lent and Easter as part of Celtic Spring, “The Great Hundred Days” from Transfiguration Sunday to Pentecost. John then describes Lent, not as a season of atonement or penance, but a season of renewal and reconnection. Here are some highlights:

That’s how we come to this name Lent. Lent is really shorthand for lengthen. The light is lengthening, the warmth is lengthening, and all of that is creating this coming abundance… And The Great Hundred Days were crafted because of what’s going on in our bodies… In nature, the sap is rising and in our bodies the energy is coming back to life. And we want to use that energy to revitalize our relationships in our communities. It’s very important to remember that “Easter” for our tradition was first and foremost the time when we wish to renew relationship… a present moment feast day not (primarily) about the history of Jesus coming out of the Tomb but a celebration that The Rock can be moved from the tomb of our heart. *

I generally regard Lent as a time of sacrifice, prayer, and study, a time to attend to my brokenness and my need for Gods mercy. I traditionally experience Lent as a period of somber waiting until we can rejoice again at Easter. And this Lenten season, I will most likely continue to spend time in reflection and repentance, as I remember with gratitude all that God in Christ has done for us.

But John’s perspectives of renewal and reconnection seem both inviting and needful for this time. My spirit needs to be refreshed; my heart yearns to be reconnected in relationship. So, as I prepared our altar table for the season, I included signs of spring with symbols of Lent. There are photos of our loved ones along with a framed likeness of Jesus. My daily walks will include springtime celebration as well as prayerful reflection. I hope to have time for personal and solitary meditation, but also for gathering with friends.

Perhaps a Lent of both somber penance and hopeful promise is how our hearts become tender and fertile, renewed and replenished for service. We need the tears and rainfall – and the joy and sunshine. We need our souls to rest in quiet meditation – and to be tilled and fed in loving community. We need to receive seeds of inspiration – and to sprout and bloom for others. Lent can become a mindful season to receive all of life as sacred and holy.

May this Lengthening Light of Lent be a season to:

deepen in humility but also in happiness
grow as followers but also as friends
remain mindful of mistakes but also of mercy
practice fasting but also feasting
turn from sin but also from sorrow
express our grief but also our gratitude
find time for contemplation but also for community
seek discipline but also delight…

until the rocks of tomb and heart
are once again rolled away
in the dawning resurrection of us all.


* John’s video may be found here: https://vimeo.com/790006583/dc4e8072dd
More information on his work may be found here: https://www.quadratos.com/
(Photo by Karen)

A PICTURE AND A POEM: LOVE

HOW DOES LOVE SPREAD?

Love boldly impacts
through diverse and delightful artwork
created in dark and dingy tunnels.

Love outwardly ripples
from pebbles of promise and possibility
cast on the waters of humanity.

Love gently covers
with blankets of care and concern
placed over the wounded and weary.

Love graciously flourishes
around festive and feasting tables
shared with the hungry and lonely.

Love tenderly sprouts
through seeds of hope and help
scattered upon the soil of earth.

Love openly reaches
with warm and welcoming arms
extended to the outcast and excluded.

Love widely radiates
from the infinite and intimate light of You
held within your humble vessels.


Photo by Karen, Atlanta, GA

A PICTURE AND A POEM: DISTRACTION

As I set out to walk today
I put my earbuds in,
hoping to ponder and to pray;
to meditate within.

My prayer began, “Be still my soul,”
but a train then rumbled by,
and angry dogs began to growl
while giving me the eye.

When the podcast called for silence –
three minutes – that was all
I went around a wooden fence
and this is when I saw

these two loose chickens near the street
both clucking in dismay.
I then admitted my defeat.
I wasn’t meant to pray.

Until this became the moment
when prayer transformed to mirth
with the joy of life, heaven sent,
to bless our days on earth.

God, I thank you for the laughter
when silence can’t be found.
Let my praise ring out hereafter
with every earthly sound.


(Photo by Karen)

EMBRACING EMPTINESS

Ah, these early February days, when (here in the northern hemisphere) I grow weary of the winter. I have the usual seasonal conflict of longing for spring – while lamenting that life passes too swiftly! These are the days when I feel a certain emptiness, a desire for something more. Of course, my first response is to begin considering…

Wouldn’t it be nice to get away for a few days?
Should we go to dinner, see a movie?
I need a new sweater…
Maybe I will head to the library for a few books.
Our walls could use a brighter color.

Any of these ideas – and others – will help uplift my spirit, break up the monotony of gray days, or offer respite and renewal. They are worthwhile ways to bring beauty to life.

But today I’m asking, “What if this moment is an invitation to embrace emptiness and simply wait… for God to fill it? What if this emptiness does not signify a lack, but an opening?” As I journaled about these thoughts, I sensed God saying this to me:

Yearning Karen,
Could this simply be your holy longing, that emptiness that draws you ever closer to me? Instead of questioning or seeing this as a detriment, embrace this emptiness and keep it open. This is an opportunity for you to wait on me, to trust that my goodness will fill your empty space. Regard this emptiness as a gift, a precious reminder that you will always have a holy longing for more… for me.

EMBRACING EMPTINESS

not reaching for
but abiding in

not moving toward
but clearing away

not drawing closer
but remaining still

not seeking more
but surrendering all

not filling up
but holding space

Please fill me with your goodness, God.
I will wait.



(Photo by Karen)

A PICTURE AND A POEM: HIDEAWAY

The winter days are dreary, cold,
’til Sunshine comes to stay,
and she asks, so sweetly, kindly,
“Hey Grammy, will you play?”

We crawl into our hideaway
of blankets, couch, and chairs,
then choose whom we are hiding from –
fierce pirates, hungry bears.

When we imagine they’ve come close,
we giggle, unafraid
to let them know that we are here,
secure in what we’ve made.

She brings a book for us to read
but then we tell our own
stories of exciting days, of
adventures we have known.

Our temporary hideaway
helps shelter us from fear,
providing space for us to dream
new stories we’ll hold dear.

As Sunshine later heads for home,
blankets are put away,
I tuck these moments in my heart
to bless another day.

And God, you are my hideaway,
both mobile yet steadfast;
my refuge from the daily storms,
my fortress that will last.

I too, can shelter in your love
and, putting fears behind,
can dream a new unscripted tale –
the one you have in mind.



(Photo by Karen)

A SECOND LOOK

I’d recently heard a podcaster recommend a certain drama-comedy series, so I suggested to Jim that we watch it that evening. The first episode only annoyed me. I found the story depressing, the main character mean-spirited, and the language vulgar at times, so I chose to stop watching. But today I came into the den while Jim was watching the next episode to see if the story would improve. This time, something about the characters captivated me, and I soon sat down next to him. We watched through the end of Season One! I now understand the value and merit of the storyline and characters.

As the story progressed, we learned the reasons for the main character’s depression and the deeper meanings behind his hateful actions. I began to appreciate the kind friends and coworkers who cared for him, despite their own troubles. I savored the wisdom of a few sages who had walked similar difficult journeys. Best of all, I began to see a resurrection, a new hope restored in this troubled man. I felt joyful, even emotional, as his spirit began healing and he started changing his ways. In the last episode we watched today, he was making things right with those he’d hurt, doing kind deeds for others, taking new chances, finding new opportunities, and smiling more often.

I’m glad I gave the show a second look.

As I stood and returned to my writing desk, I suddenly thought: This is God. This is God’s love. This is God’s healing.

And this is how we are meant to live.

God always gives us the benefit of a second look. Yes, God looks at this first, current episode of our lives, but with the awareness of our previous ones and the insight for our future ones. God sees beneath our superficial qualities or blemishes because God looks at our deeper souls. God understands our flaws and frailties because God understands our histories, our wounds, our genuine stories. God sees our inner needs and provides healing, forgiving, uplifting power accordingly.

And through this comforting, accepting, second look – this loving gaze – we can see ourselves as God sees us, precious and beloved. In the wisdom of God’s deep and healing insight, we can discover our genuine selves beyond any superficial, overlooked, or previously held image. In the generous grace of God’s viewpoint, we can see beyond our current messiness and witness our own resurrection – both our wholeness and our holiness.

Then it’s our turn. God can also transform us into people who offer second looks. God can help us begin searching beyond the obvious; seeing beyond our preconceived judgments, moving beyond our usual reactions, growing beyond our status quo. Our second looks help us search for the real answers to such questions as…

Why is that man being so hateful?
What is that student trying to hide behind his bravado?
Is there heartache beneath that surly attitude?
Will I find any wisdom in those hurtful words?
Why am I feeling disgruntled today?
Should I reconsider this invitation?
What might I learn from this experience?

Through our daily resurrections, we can become tenderhearted, hopeful, helpful, generous, merciful, grateful people who are willing to take a second look, offer a second chance, and live the second life that God has so graciously given us.

Where might you take a second look today?


Photo by Karen