to be open to breath of God's goodness.
Wednesday, May 2, 2012
Thursday, May 12, 2011
Whispers of Life and Hope
The trees are Old Growth Douglas Fir and they tower high and stand protectively over this spot along the water. The ferns abound, gathering here and there in orchestrated welcome. This spring the creek is full but not engorged as sometimes it can be as the snow in the higher hills journeys down, through this sanctuary. Rich, clear, clean water pours through a channel carved in the stone creek-bed. It pools around a large rock with room for 10 or more to sit upon it, but today there is only one.
I come here to sit and think. Really I come here to drink in the peace and faithful murmur of this place. I don’t know how it comes to be here or why this land hasn't been “cut and cleared” but I love that it is here. It gives me strength to be here. It gives me hope to know this place exists. I could fish here, but I enjoy sitting silently. I have to hike to get in to this spot but when I arrive, I want nothing more than to be still and listen to the water, the air in the trees, the echo of my thoughts – the whole of the place. The reassurance of this spot speaks to me.
If I were omnipotent and wise, I might love my people with places like this. To meet them quietly and eagerly with such a tender active voice as this setting speaks would be a great delight.
Perhaps in the grandest scheme of things this was build for me, or I was built to yearn for such places and moments as this. When I am here, I simply cannot but pray. Perhaps that is why I journey here, when prayer eludes me. For everything here is alive in prayer and curiously gives life to me. I can only nod my head in grateful thanks of this grace.
God of all that is living, is this the language which you give that, perchance you speak with me? I pray it is so.
Monday, July 19, 2010
Thursday, June 17, 2010
Wednesday, June 9, 2010
I was lost in my mid twenties, too much education and not enough “out in the world” life experience. As a part of my searching I remembered being a teacher’s assistant for 5th grade Sunday school when I was in High School. It wasn’t a great experience but I made a few connections with a couple of the kids and with the teacher. I wondered if teaching on my own would be meaningful, so I volunteered. I was quite unsure of how it would all go. The only opening was in the 4,5 and 6 year old class, so I volunteered for that.
As I got into the class a few weeks I discovered that I wasn’t thrilled with the curriculum. So I began to experiment with what was working with the kids. Things like sharing time were fun. Turns out not many people had time to listen to the kids, so when I did, they loved it. We built upon that and began to pray together after sharing time. We prayed like God was a big brother or sister we idolized, who looked after us.
We would play games that explored the lesson for that class; we had snack time and show and tell. It was a great experience. Parents began talking to me about their children’s sharing about class. Turns out our playing and sharing in class was opening the children up to sharing with their parents. “Click” I thought to myself. I still hear from the parents of two of those children. The kids are married and have kids of their own these days but they still remember that Sunday morning time together.
13People were bringing little children to Jesus to have him touch them, but the disciples rebuked them. 14When Jesus saw this, he was indignant. He said to them, "Let the little children come to me, and do not hinder them, for the
Prayer:In each of us O Lord, you have given the gift of reaching and touching a few special ones that you wish to draw near to you. Allow us to be the heart and hope thorough which others will draw near to you. Let us offer ourselves to your service until where hear the “click” of your unlocking our lives. Because of the life of Jesus and in his name we pray. Amen.