Saint John, Evangelist

Today we celebrate John of many names: "The Divine," "The Beloved," "Evangelist."  I'm disappointed that the readings today don't include the prologue to his Gospel; the selections from the Gospel focus on him, John, rather than on his distinctive view of Jesus.  But we hear echoes in the first office reading, Proverbs 8:22-30, where Wisdom tells of her close relationship with the Creator.  This Wisdom is, for John, the Word that "came down" and met us in the flesh.  In the Incarnation, Jesus' light shows each of us who we are and who we might become.  "He became human that we might become divine," as Irenaeus said.  But the road to divinity goes through our sin and our ignorance.  We are enabled to see ourselves through Jesus' eyes, and to choose life - or not.

Today, as the U.S. government continues to dismantle structures of collective responsibility and concern, we are each going to be challenged to decide what our values and priorities are.  Do we make contributions to charities, or tithe, in order to get a tax break?  Will we give when we can't get that benefit?  Will we share what we have with those who will no longer have access to even minimal food resources or housing?  Will we help our loved ones, and others, who will no longer have jobs, or Social Security or Medicare?  What do we stand for?

It's not enough to be nice.  At the end of the movie "Downsizing," I was struck by a scene when someone tells the protagonist that their journey on foot will be eleven hours long.  He is not prepared, and he's the last one coming.  After telling him this, the first person blithely says, "Stay hydrated," and he strides ahead, leaving him alone and with nothing.  What looks like a group of concerned, loving people reveals itself to be a nicer, eco-conscious version of the same old individualism.

Jesus wasn't nice.  He didn't teach us to be nice.  He became human, he went to the depths, he endured our worst, out of love.  Along the way he stripped bare the niceness of those who give out of their comfortable excess, or who give to pat themselves on the back or feel virtuous.  He kept choosing the path of possibility, a path that leads through uncertainty and failure.

The Word became flesh and tented among us.  And we too, in this flesh, are children of God.  May you see and honor that child in yourself, and in all you meet.

Saint Stephen, Deacon

Today we remember Stephen, the first deacon.  He's also the first martyr, and that tends to get more attention, but today I want to think about his crucial role in getting the Church moving toward a sustainable community.

The morning office reading (Acts 6:1-7) tells of the moment when the apostles got the need for deacons.  Fights were springing up (apparently all was not as happy as Luke sometimes wants us to think!).  The contesting parties came to the apostles, as the only authorities in the community.  But the apostles said, "This isn't really our job, and focusing on it will cause us to neglect the thing that is our job.  Let's appoint some people to do this job.  You all choose the ones you trust.  We will do what we are called to do, and they will do what they are called to, all for the good of the community."

Now, the translations can make it sound like the twelve are dismissive of this "mundane" task, but I don't think we have to go there.  They're just clear that it's not their task, their ministry, their gift.  But they're just as clear that it is needed, and that the people should choose those who will carry it out.

We've talked among the Companions about how to understand our different threads of membership.  Are we like monks/nuns, oblates, tertiaries, associates?  Last summer Dario said maybe it's more like the vowed members are like priests and the covenant Companions are like deacons; some tending the charism, focused on prayer and welcoming those who come, and others going out and bringing needs and resources back and forth.  We aren't settled on these analogies; there's always a danger that we will read too much into them and try to fit inside those categories.  We hope to have residential vowed members who serve the world by "waiting at tables" as well as attending to "the word of God."  But it is useful to have that lens.

I, Shane, have struggled for years with the sense that I'm supposed to serve with my hands more, to be "out" more, to be "relevant."  But today's lesson reminds me that some of us are called to prayer, to listening, to bringing words rather than deeds as such.  God's realm needs all of us.  So I'm tending the fire, hoping to bring something to others who go out and do what I'm not able or called to.  I give thanks for deacons, ordained and incognito.  Blessed Stephen, pray for us!

P.S.  Last night (yes, Christmas night) we went to see "Downsizing."  I think the lead character actually shows us diaconal ministry incognito.  It is a powerful movie, with a lot of commentary about our choices in the world.  See it if you can.

Almost . . .

We returned home on December 21.  We spend 2/3 of Advent away from home, ironically teaching about "exodus and advent."  The wilderness was a big theme, and we got to be there!

There was something about being away from home that really deepened my sense of Advent and the approaching birth of Christ.  I don't know just what it was, but there was a connection.  Coming home just in time for the final days evoked the journey of Joseph and Mary to Bethlehem (although for them it was a journey away from home, an exodus).

We had decided before we left that Christmas would be simple - we came home tired, with things to catch up on.  We don't need gifts or fancy foods or big events.  Christmas this year is unadulterated, about Christ.  Maybe that's why it's so pressing for me.

I feel like I'm about to give birth.  I can't wait.  Something big is happening.  It won't look big from the outside, no one else may know, but God is entering into my life in a new and deeper way right now.  I don't have any other words for it.  Something is coming.

Jesus came into a world of oppression and injustice.  Our world, too, is awash in anger and violence and domination and exploitation.  The light is shining in the darkness; it will shine.  The darkness cannot overcome it, do what it may.

I can't wait.  The world can't wait.  Come, Lord Jesus!

Advent 3 B Reflection

I don't know if you'll be able to read this, since i'm pasting it from another application.  If it appears white, hold your cursor over the line and see if that helps.

I’ve been preparing to preach tomorrow, and there’s more to say than I can fit in one sermon, so here’s another line of thought that’s been occupying me.

Readings are Isaiah 61:1-4, 8-11; 1 Thessalonians 5:16-24; John 1:6-8,19-28

“The Spirit of the Lord is upon me.”

This sounds like such a bold, grand statement.  It might sound arrogant or pushy.  Who are you, who am I, to say such a thing?  

“The Spirit of the Lord is upon me.”

The one speaking in Isaiah has a mighty commission; to heal the sick, to free the prisoners, to restore sight, to proclaim justice and jubilee.  It sounds like a lot of power.  

But as we look at those on whom the Spirit rests, we see a different picture.  

During Advent we meet two people who receive the Spirit of the Lord: John the Baptist, and Mary.  For both of them, the coming of the Spirit brings not privilege, but hardship, misunderstanding, and suffering.  And it brings peace and joy, of a sort that’s hard to take in.

John was born to a priestly family.  He would normally have grown up to serve in the Temple like his father.  But something happened to take him away from the center of power and push him to the desert, to the Jordan, to a life that few would choose or understand.  Eventually it led him to die in prison for speaking out.  The Spirit of the Lord rested on him, but he was not celebrated or privileged for that.  He, John, had to decrease in order to let the Spirit work.  He had to let go of his plans and dreams, his ego, and make room for the Messiah.

When the authorities came to question him, they basically asked him: who do you think you are, baptizing and preaching without a license?  He answers, “I’m nothing.  Who I am doesn’t matter.  What matters is the One who is to come.”  

In fact, John’s message is about the power of humility.

John can stand up to the questioners because he has nothing to defend.  He can stand up to Herod and tell the truth because he is not attached to his status or his wealth or even his life.  He knows he is not the center of his own life.  The center of his life is Christ, the Messiah, the one who is coming.

What a message!  In a culture of iPads and iPods and Me, where the ads for everything from hamburgers to health insurance tell us they’re designed for us and we deserve the best, John says: 

It’s not about me.

It’s about God, and what God is up to.

Paul tells us that we can rejoice and give thanks “in all circumstances” because God is faithful.  Not because I’m so smart or strong or faithful; it’s not about me.

Since it’s not about me, I don’t have to waste time looking good or speaking anything other than truth.  I don’t have to worry about whether I’m popular, or successful.  I can focus on being faithful, as God is faithful.

God is faithful.  God is the point.

It’s about God.

Where is God at work in you, among you, today?

Give thanks.

Comfort, Comfort

We are in Cincinnati OH for two weeks.  Tomorrow Elizabeth is preaching at Christ Church Cathedral.  I'm struck that the season that opened last week with "Comfort, comfort my people" now moves to John the Baptist's call to repent.  For many of us, these might seem like contrary messages.  But I think they are part of a whole that's true and life-giving.

When we hear "comfort" these days we think of relaxing, of letting go and getting what we want - a soft bed, a fluffy bathrobe.  Repentance seems hard, maybe even punishing.  But in fact these two ideas belong together.

God longs for us, longs for our return.  When we have turned away, life is hard: hard for us, and hard for God.  We may anesthetize ourselves and deny the pain, but anesthesia is not real comfort.  It is not renewal or recreation.  It's suspended animation, neither life nor death.

Real comfort enables us to turn back, to dare to ask forgiveness, to admit our faults and try again.  Real comfort takes courage and resolve.  Its reward is real, and deep, and enduring.  Repentance, turning back, leads to comfort.

When Isaiah is called to "comfort" the people it is not a call to tell them what they want to hear.  John the Baptist comforts the people by reminding them they have a choice and a chance.  Repentance is the path of life.  If you've ever cried your heart out, you know that tears cleanse and renew us.

Like Luke's prodigal father, God is waiting with open arms.  The only way to comfort is to admit our failings and let ourselves be received.  Then we see the one we have waited for coming to us, in everyone and everything.

Covenant Groups

Dear Friends,

Blessed Advent to you!

We are forming a new covenant group to begin in March 2018.  If you are interested in a more intentional relationship with the Companions and a shared community of spiritual practice, take a look at this link and see whether you think God is calling you to this.  We'd love to hear from you, wherever you are!

http://conta.cc/2ztSvIg

Gratitude November 30

Well, here we are at the end of "gratitude month" and almost to Advent.  I will continue to name gratitudes each day, as I have before, but I won't be writing them here.  I want to turn my attention, and yours, to the One who is coming.

I'm so grateful for these past two days of retreat.  I read some wonderful things in preparation for the next few weeks, but they weren't "work"; they set me on fire, remembering that God so deeply desires  our reconciliation and wholeness that She came to us, and comes to us, and invites us to come to Her in turn.  We are destined for adoption, which is just as real as "natural" birth.  We can, we are meant to, become children of God.  Jesus shows us how, if we dare.

I'm grateful for the silence that let me think more deeply and set my heart on fire.  I'm grateful that Cathy could be with us for a day, and that she too was glowing silently.  I'm grateful that soon I'll get to talk about what is in my heart, when we go to Cincinnati.  I'm grateful for disciplines that open these spaces for me - disciplines like writing a blog!

I'm grateful to you who read this, daily or weekly or occasionally.  I know how much there is to read out there - I myself get easily overwhelmed, and have to miss a lot of wonderful writing.  So thank you for including me in your reflections.

For what are you grateful today?

Gratitude November 28 and 29

I'm writing this ahead of time.  Tuesday and Wednesday we will be in silent retreat.  I'm grateful for the privilege of being able to take this time, and for the grace to avail myself of it.  If you have never made a silent retreat day, it can seem daunting; but let me encourage you to try.  Some people will join us tomorrow just for the day, dipping a toe in.

Making a retreat is not the same as being alone at home; many of us do that.  We turn off the devices and let our minds and hearts run to God.  That includes a lot of restlessness, even anxiety: what will I do for all that time?  Is it a waste of time?  What if I get bored?

Retreat is a great opportunity to find out what is really rattling around in your mind, what messages you are playing without knowing it, and to turn them over to God for healing.  It's not vacation, by any means; it's more like opening the windows and letting the Spirit blow through.  Brrr!  It's especially powerful as we approach Advent.

I will return on Thursday, God willing (it's a busy day) to end the month with you all.  I'm grateful for those who read, and for those who share, and for those who ponder and make their own gratitude lists.

For what are you grateful today?

Our November newsletter

I like to think each month's newsletter is important, but this one I'm sure about.  We are organizing new covenant groups and rethinking our "threads" or "pathways" for companionship.  Check it out!

If you're curious, drop me a line.

http://conta.cc/2AzE5u6

Gratitude November 27

Today I'm grateful to have a printer/copier that works.  This is our third copier in five years, so it can't be assumed that any copier will do!  It isn't fancy, but it's wireless and it serves most of our needs.

Just now I was printing out an Advent worship booklet for Matins and Vespers.  We will be away from home for two of the three weeks of Advent, and don't want to carry the enormous St. Helena Monastic Breviary (sorry, Sisters, it's wonderful but huge).  I copied pages from that and from our own worship booklets, so we have a portable version.  With our St. Helena Psalters we will be fine.  And some folks might want to join us for worship in Cincinnati (we will be at the Cathedral), and if they do we can use their copier to make it easy!  It's not pretty, but it works.

I'm old enough to remember mimeograph machines.  Someone had to type a stencil and then run it through this messy machine.  As I start to write what a pain that was for secretaries, I think of all the people whose jobs have been phased out due to technical advances.  I know that some of those jobs have been replaced by others using the new technologies, but there's still been a lot of transition and loss - and resentment and backlash.  So, as I give thanks for the privilege of this equipment, I pray for those who do not have access, those who are in cyber-deserts and shut out of the "new economy."  I pray that we will develop the wisdom to use our technology for the glory of God and the good of all creation.

For what are you grateful today?

Gratitude November 26

Late in the day.  I'm grateful for Aidan's powerful preaching this morning.  He nicely dissected the threads of empire that linger in the "feast" of "Christ the King."   I'll let you watch the whole thing on the Holy Cross sermon blog:

https://ohclectionary.blogspot.com

Aidan pointed out that with Constantine's conversion the empire did not become Christian; rather, the Church became imperial.  Within the liturgical churches this shows up especially in architecture and vestments, direct borrowings from Roman imperial culture.  But it sneaks into the mindset of so many Christians who miss the days when "we" set the rules and the standards, when the whole commercial world stopped on Sunday, when children went to Sunday School and were "confirmed" whether or not they found any faith to affirm.

I wish the world stopped and we all observed a day of rest together.  But we don't.  I am mindful of faithful Jews, who have long lived in countries that didn't stop for their Sabbath; and now, of Muslims in non-Muslim countries who contend with the same thing.  We who actually worship on Sunday, who try to rest, have brothers and sisters in our complaint - and they have experience to share with us.

So today I'm grateful too for being a follower of Jesus in this time when that does not go without saying.  I'm grateful to be part of a movement that is replanting in the midst of ruins.  I trust, and I stand for, a Church that does not rest on secular authority or custom but on the naked love of its members for Christ, and the desire to follow him and become one with him.

Bless you all as you root yourself in the Gospel, and trust in God alone.  I believe that is enough.

Gratitude November 25

Today I'm grateful for bookkeepers, especially Liz Gurdin.  Liz patiently sorts through my discretionary account each month, and I've never heard her swear or raise her voice.  This is remarkable.

As monastics under a vow of poverty, we receive an allowance to cover personal items such as clothing and entertainment.  Each month we turn in our receipts, and hope everything balances.  This includes library fines, parking meters, donations, anything we spend "our" money on.

I did this for years with no trouble.  I carried my money in an envelope, I didn't use a credit card, I wrote down everything on the envelope.  We're talking very small sums here.  Then, after a few years "in the world," we began the Companions and the routine began again.  But this time some part of my brain seems to have worn out.  Month after month my money doesn't balance.  It's close, but not perfect.  So I've tried using my community credit card whenever possible, so there's a record of my purchases and fewer chances to go wrong.  That helps with my overall accounting, but my tiny little pool of cash is still in disarray.  I try to write down everything and/or get a receipt, but I'm off.  I can't even be sure how much I'm off, until Liz does the books!  I'll think I'm off by $3.35, and she'll find another $5.67 missing.  It's crazy, and humbling.

In college I took bookkeeping and accounting.  Both times my instructors said I was a natural, meant to be an accountant.  This is hilarious.  Whatever aptitude I had is long gone.  I wander in a world of dollars and cents.  If not for Liz, it would be worse.  At least she keeps me within ten dollars or so!

This may not seem like a big deal, but it's frustrating and humbling.  St. Benedict counsels us to seek humility.  Perhaps God has sent me this stumbling block to keep me from thinking I can do it all alone.  It certainly is working!

Thank you, careful and orderly people, in all walks of life.  Thank you for putting up with those of us who are challenged in those ways.  Thank you for all the ways you hold together our world.

Gratitude November 24

Somehow yesterday's post ended up in my draft folder.  Happy Belated Thanksgiving!

Today I'm grateful for old and new friends who joined us for dinner last night, but I have another gratitude from that night.  Our cat, Shadow, spent time on the back of the couch and eventually locked eyes with one of our guests, Michelle.  I couldn't take a picture without moving, and so disturbing the scene.  You'll have to imagine: regal, focused cat gazing at human, aiming either to penetrate her soul or bend her to her will (it wasn't clear, and probably for Shadow they're the same thing).  Michelle has a dog, so it might also have been a moment of declaration: I smell your dog.  Keep it away from me.  This is my house.

Whatever she intended, Shadow displayed her full beauty and focus for us.  I give thanks for this cat among cats, this beautiful and mostly well-behaved feline.  Does she teach me about God?  Hmmm.  Perhaps she shows me sides of creation that don't always make me comfortable; the casual predatory and cruel parts.  She lets me love her, even when I don't understand her, and in that she mirrors God.  I have to share her love with others, and that's good practice.  I love her, but she doesn't belong to me or to the Companions.  She is who she is.

Thank you, God, for those companions of other species who round out my picture of creation.  Thank you for silly, subtle, soft, stubborn companions of all species.  Thank you for giving me the capacity to love them.

For what are you grateful today?

Happy Thanksgiving! November 23

Today is an official day of giving thanks in the U.S.  Now, I'm contrary enough that I could resist being thankful on a day when I'm supposed to - but I won't.  Really every day is a day when I'm "supposed to" give thanks, when it behooves me to be grateful.  The only difference today is that some people who don't give thanks every day will join me, and join you, in our gratitude.  So I guess I'm grateful for those people . . .

I'm grateful for the friends who will join us for dinner tonight.  I'm grateful to be able to invite people, to host.  I'm grateful for the funds to buy a turkey and cook it.  I'm grateful for long underwear on a cold day.  I'm grateful for sun warming the chapel, and the geraniums, the lavender, the cactus blooming.

I'm grateful to God: to the Creator, the Source, for giving me this life, for wooing me until I gave in and fell in love.  I'm grateful to Jesus, who keeps teaching me how to be human and divine.  I'm grateful to the Holy Spirit, the first part of God I could get, who speaks in the wind and in my heart and mind.  I'm grateful to the whole darn Body of Christ, all its limbs and toes and fingers and capillaries.

God, please bless those who lack these gifts, or don't know how to receive them.  Make me part of your blessing them.  Use those who read this, fill them with your Spirit to love you and serve you.  Bring us to your banquet table.  Amen.

Gratitude November 22

Today I'm grateful for all the signs of growth I see in my life and those around me.  I can't give a lot of detail without violating other people's confidentiality, but I'm seeing God do infinitely more than I can ask or imagine.  Relationships being healed and used for further growth; strength to face into conflict and transform it into new paths forward; courage to speak and to listen with love.  In those movements I'm truly stunned, amazed by what God has in store.

I think of God as the great recycler or composter, using our garbage to make something new.  This week has definitely been a season for that.  But I see, too, that God needs us to be willing partners in that operation.  God will not force me to let go of my garbage.  God invites us to be part of the renewal of the universe, but we have to choose to respond.  I'm grateful for the times when I'm willing to say yes, available to go forward.  When I'm not willing, I usually don't even know it; part of the resistance is refusing to see.  Once I see it, sooner or later I'm going to say yes, and miracles will occur.

Look around today.  Where is there an opening to begin again?  Say yes.

For what are you grateful today?

For what are you grateful today?

Gratitude November 21 (and 20)

Whoops!  I'm grateful for a Sabbath day yesterday, although I had intended to write here.  The retreat was wonderful, but tiring.

I'm grateful for a wonderful meeting last night with some of our "wise ones," Don and Susan and Chilton.  They help us stay focused and clear, and in their different ways they are each crucial parts of this body of Companions.

And I'm grateful for our donors.  We are sending out our annual appeal this week (our second annual!), and we've been praying for those who have donated in the past year.  You make it possible for us to do the ministry we do.  We receive pay for much of our ministry (though not all), but it's not nearly enough to pay the bills.  We count on the support of those who find value in our community, and we are grateful for it as it comes.  And thank you for the other ways you support us and challenge us to follow Jesus more deeply.

So here's my big gratitude: I'm grateful to God in Christ for the miracle that keeps working in me and around me.  Every day I'm opened up more, used more, gifted with more.  I could never have imagined that I would be surrounded by so many people of love and integrity and service.  Each day of this life is a miracle.  And so is yours, if you stop and notice it.

For what are you grateful today?


If you would like to donate and we don't have your address, you can pay via PayPal at our website or you can send us a check to P.O. Box 226, West Park NY  12493.  If you can't give now but might in the future, you know where to find us.

Gratitude November 18 and 19

I'm leading a retreat this weekend, and I don't have regular computer access, so I'm writing this ahead and letting it post itself on Saturday.  On Sunday I won't post.  I'll be back on Monday.

In the meantime, this is your chance to participate on this blog rather than just read it.  Others are reading as well, and they need a word of gratitude.  You can bring that word.  It doesn't have to be elegant or elevated.  It might be one word.  I will be deeply grateful to you if you share this space with me, with us.

For what are you grateful today, and tomorrow?

Gratitude November 17

Today I'm grateful for wise mentors.  Yesterday I had a painful situation to deal with.  I called one of my mentors, and she asked me just the right questions to lead me to clarity.  I prayed on what I saw, and I took action.  Today I feel renewed and ready for whatever God has in store for me in the future.

This weekend I will lead a recovery retreat, and I will no doubt say something that others need to hear.  I will be the wise one for that moment.  I give thanks, in advance, for the opportunity to pass on what I have learned.

We all take turns being wise mentors.  It's not a lifetime appointment.  Sometimes you will say just the thing someone else needs to hear.  You won't even know that you're making a difference.  So thank you.  And give thanks for all those wise mentors who have come into your life, whether for a moment or for years.  We are all part of God's circuit of love and wisdom, and I'm grateful for all of us.

For what are you grateful today?

Gratitude November 16

Today I'm grateful for people of conscience and courage.  Yesterday I saw the new movie about Mark Felt, the FBI agent who told the Washington Post about Watergate and the White House's involvement when the FBI was ordered to stop investigating.  He did not do this to hurt the agency, but to save its integrity and do the job he had dedicated his life to.  I give thanks for him.

I also give thanks to those who are making movies and writing books to help us remember.  We are in a new period of corruption and interference, a new constitutional crisis, and this time we do not have a Congress that will stand up to the President.  We need all the other instruments of civil society to demand that truth not be abandoned.  This is not about policies or personalities; this is about principles of free government.

I've been hearing many stories recently of people who stood up to those who would silence them, deny their humanity, or suppress the truth.  People wonder how they persevere.  I don't, actually.  I think, what else could they do?  They'd have to become someone else, someone for whom this value didn't matter.  It's like the pursuit of our relationship with God.  Why keep praying when prayer seems dry or pointless?  Well, what else can I do?  How, and why, would I walk away from the source  of my life?  What sort of life would I live without that?  It's not really a choice.

So I guess today I'm grateful for all those who persevere in hard causes for good ends.  All who contribute to the healing of the world, to tikkun slam.  Thank you.

For what are you grateful today?

Gratitude November 15

Today I'm grateful for my life.  All of it.

Today is my birthday, a chance to reflect and give thanks and dream again.  It seems that each year I have more gratitude.  Do I have more reasons to be grateful, or is it just that my heart opens more to the beauty and love that were always there?  That's probably not an interesting or helpful question.  I'm grateful for what I can see and feel today.

This weekend I will be leading a retreat for women in Alcoholics Anonymous and AlAnon.  Their lives are a powerful blend of pain and growth, of struggle and delight.  I love being with them, being one of them.  I do not regret the painful parts of my life, because they equipped me for this ministry.  I give thanks for the growth and joy I've experienced, because they give me a message to carry.  We do not get to avoid getting hurt, and the scars do not vanish, but we do get to see them transformed into testimony of God's healing grace.

I'm grateful for my family.  Far from "perfect," but full of love and resilience and courage.
I'm grateful for my other families, my communities of love and service.  Also not "perfect," capable of hurting one another, but dedicated to another way.

I'm grateful for those who have helped me heal, those who have taught me new tricks or weaned me from old habits.  I'm grateful for those who let me share my experience strength and hope with them. I'm grateful for this amazing life that somehow keeps deepening against all rational calculation.

I'm grateful for the love of God that creates and sustains all of this, and more.  More than I can say.  Thank you, thank you, thank you for creation, and for letting me be a part of it, and aware of it.  I love you.

Gratitude November 14

Today I'm grateful for Br. Aidan Owen, OHC.  He was ordained as a "transitional" deacon today (that means he expects to be ordained a priest next year).  He has been faithfully discerning both his monastic and his priestly vocations for at least ten years, and it was a joy to see him make his vows in this order of ministry.

The other day I gave thanks for commitment.  Today I give thanks for Aidan, and through him for those who honestly seek to discern and follow God's will.  Sometimes we think we know the plan, and we can rush forward and just push through obstacles.  Rather than discernment, this is strategy.  I know I've done this in my life, and I've seen others do it.  It isn't the path of life, no matter how good the goal is.

Real discernment takes trust and willingness and humility.  It's much more vulnerable than strategy or simple decision-making.  It requires us to listen to the voice of our communities as well as our inner contact, and accept their finding.  It can be painful.  It takes courage.

Thank you, God, for those with the courage to truly listen and discern and follow.  Give us all the grace to do likewise.

Gratitude November 13

Today I'm grateful for the people who join me for spiritual "direction" - companionship, listening, reflection.  Many years ago my discovery of my monastic vocation coincided with hearing the call to be with others in this way.  For years, though, it didn't manifest.  I got some training, then got diverted into studying for the priesthood.  People came, then left.  I never felt like this ministry was developing, and I started to think I had been mistaken in my sense of call.

A few years ago I let go of some of my baggage around not being enough for this ministry.  Then, in the past year, as I stopped fighting my contemplative vocation (and some other things), suddenly people showed up.   The other day I realized I'm doing what I so wanted to do.  I think I had a lot of my own work to do before I could be available in the way others need, and I think it must show that I've been doing it.

I am so grateful that these people are with me: people earnestly searching for God, whether they are newcomers to that search or long-time journeyers.  I see what they are doing in the world, the difference they are making, and I'm grateful to be part of their journey.  I believe that part of my vocation is "equipping the saints for the work of ministry" (Ephesians 4:12), and it brings me joy to see that happen.

Thank you to all my mentors and directors over the years, and to all of you for your varied ministries.  God bless you today.

For what are you grateful today?

Gratitude November 12

Today I'm grateful for commitment.  I will attend worship today among two communities where commitment to God is evident.  In the morning I'm going to the Church of the Ascension in West Park NY, our landlords.  They are celebrating their 175th anniversary, and seven people are being confirmed.  We had the delight of meeting with the confirmands last month, sharing about monastic life and our vocational journeys, and now we get to see them continue on theirs.  Their commitment is made possible by the commitment of their church community.  This small parish, which has combined in the past with another parish and is now yoked to another parish through a shared priest, continues to serve the community and to worship together.  They aren't failing, or struggling; they are just small, a typical rural parish.  Together they honor God and serve others, week in and week out.  Thank you.

Then for Vespers we will go to Holy Cross Monastery, where Peter Pearson is making his novice clothing.  He's been with the brothers since May, and now he commits to continue learning and discerning this path.  It takes courage and faith to leave one's career and familiar place and jump in with a bunch of semi-strangers, to be known by them and put up with them - and know they are putting up with you!  So Peter, blessings and thanks.  Thanks for being a man of courage and faith and commitment.

And thank you to all of you, for all the ways your commitments keep the world moving.  Whether it's family or friends or ministry of any kind, your commitment makes all the difference.  Pray that we may all have the grace to stand firm and clear with the gifts God gives us.

For what are you grateful today?

Gratitude November 11

I feel like a broken record, but here goes.

I'm grateful for, and grateful to, our Coffee Table Communion crew.  Yesterday they stayed after, not for tea and conversation like most weeks, but to put together a mailing that is going out soon.  We still got time together, but it was like a quilting bee.  Hands were moving while people shared, and so we shared in a way different than when we just sit and listen to one another.  It was wonderful to know we have partners in ministry.  So thank you to Laurel and Anne and Joan and Cathy and Ferris.

The broken record part is that this exercise is making me aware of how much of my gratitude relates to the people in my life.  Every day people show up in different ways.  Some show up as partners in ministry.  Some show up as supporters or co-conspirators.  Some show up as people seeking spiritual direction or nourishment or transformation.  Some show up as family or friends.  But so many people!  I'm used to thinking of myself as apart or disconnected, but that's another life.  In this life I've got more companions than I can count, or honor adequately.

I am grateful for all of you.

How many images can I find of friends who make God present and active?

For what are you grateful today?

Gratitude November 10

Yesterday was a good day.  I began the day with energy, both mental and physical.  It was a day at home, a day I had planned to spend with a friend until he got sick.  So I made soup, and insulated windows, and did laundry.  I dusted.  Elizabeth and I worked on our retreats and talks for next month in Cincinnati, where we will be at the Cathedral for two weeks.  We got ideas for leading our upcoming covenant groups, and creating closure for the ones that are ending.  And still there was time with a directee, time listening for God working in him.  A good day.

I'm grateful for the mind that lets me think, and the mouth that lets me speak.  I'm grateful for the arms and legs and fingers that enable me to maintain our house and nourish our bodies.  I'm grateful for the ears and the heart to hear God in another person.  I'm grateful to be.

For what are you grateful?

Gratitude November 9

Wait, I missed yesterday!  I thought I posted.  I usually write in the morning, or try to, but yesterday I was at the food pantry and then came home to various meetings.  My apologies.

So, today I'm grateful for yesterday.  I'm grateful for the staff at Ulster County Community College who learned about the pantry and are bringing students to it.  So many students don't have access to food on campus, and they don't know the pantry is there.  Thank you, Lynn and Stephanie, for advertising and for enabling students to have healthy food while studying.

And today I'm grateful, as I have been for so many days, for the love of Christ.  I've been drawn lately into a deeper desire to pray - or a desire to pray more deeply - and a growing sense of God's love and presence and mystery.   As the dark grows outside, as fall turns toward winter, I'm more turned toward the light of Christ.  Our chapel is cold in this season, but Jesus is there making it warm in spirit.  So that's where I want to be.  I'm grateful beyond words for this life that lets me be there.

For what are you grateful today?

Gratitude November 7

Today I'm grateful for my community.  I am at the end of my rope with several tasks today - finding health insurance for next year, preparing a document for printing - and in each case I have a companion who is there with technical expertise, or simply the perseverance and stubbornness to keep going when I want to give up.  I'm grateful for Elizabeth, and Sarah.  Thank you.

This morning I read that the road to salvation is simply to keep doing the daily things, and speak only kindness.  I make it so complicated and strenuous sometimes, I'm grateful for the reminder that the simple, right things are what the world is made of.   I am frustrated with these issues today, but they don't have to make me part of someone else's hard day.  As I write, I release my frustration to God and breathe in gratitude.  I will have health insurance, somehow; the letter will get printed.  And I will pray for those who do not have decent health care, or access to computers that drive them crazy!

For what are you grateful today?

Gratitude November 6

Wow, where do I start?

I'm grateful for my friends, our friends, the friends of the Companions.  Yesterday we had an open house, a housewarming I guess, to celebrate being in this new place.  People from various parts of our lives came and met and shared the blessing of this house and this community.  For the second day in a row, I was overwhelmed by the amazing people in my life.  How did this happen?  For many years I was so closed off to the beauty of the world, the beauty of other people, that such people and their gifts just didn't show up as part of my world.  Now they're everywhere.  I know they aren't different.  I let love into my life, and it flooded in.

I'm also grateful for one more day of warm weather, a morning I could go for a walk without a jacket and then sit on the deck and watch the river.  The cold is coming, but not today.  I will still go for walks in the cold, and likely still sit on the deck, but it will be different.  Today is today.  I'm grateful for the ability to cherish this.

What are you grateful for?

Gratitude November 5

Today I'm grateful that Daylight Savings Time is over in the U.S.  This may not seem like much, but it is to me.  I love the sunrise, especially now that we are back on the river, and I have missed it for the last month.  By the time the sun is coming up, we are at Matins and I can't see much of even the dawn.  By the time we're done, the sunrise has happened.

I also love to go for a walk before Matins, but not in the dark.  I used to run in the dark, with a flashlight, but that got old (or I did!).  I love the stars, but I want to be able to walk in the light.

I know that as winter approaches the light will come later anyway, but for now I have a reprieve.  Night will come earlier, but that actually is OK for now: we sing the Phos Hilaron, "O Gracious Light," welcoming the light of Christ as the earthly light fades.   In a few months I will welcome the later light, but for now I'm grateful to have the early morning light again.

What are you grateful for today?

Gratitude November 4

Today Elizabeth and I are leading a refresher course for graduates of the Making A Difference workshop offered by the Mastery Foundation.  This is an all-volunteer organization devoted to fostering leadership in religious communities and communities where religion is a source of conflict.   We work in Israel and Palestine, in Ireland and Northern Ireland, and in the U.S.

Today 15 people will gather in person and online to empower ourselves for ministry.

I'm grateful to have found this community, and to be enabled to serve others through it.  I'm so grateful we have this new house to host people in.  I'm grateful for the ways I've been empowered through this work, and I'm grateful for the amazing people I get to meet and work with through it.

If you're curious about Mastery, go to www.masteryfoundation.org

Bless you in your ministry, whatever it is and wherever it is happening.

Gratitude November 3

Today I'm grateful for our Coffee Table Communion group.  We gathered and read Sunday's Scriptures, and really delved into what it means to bear one another's burdens, and to bear witness.  It's always a joy to be with them, but today was just very rich and powerful.  I'm praying to know more about what witness I am called to bear, and what burdens.  It can be tempting to assign myself burdens and ignore the ones that God might have in mind for me!  Can I choose my burdens, please? I'm reminded that Jesus promises that his burden is light.  Perhaps if I trust God to show me my burden, it will not be as onerous as I fear - or as the one I might choose for myself!

I'm also grateful for friends who remind me to treat creation with reverence.  We're being besieged by several species of insect right now, and I'm feeling desperate and violent.  Laurel and Cathy found a pupa, something waiting to grow.  I knocked it off the side of the house, and they were horrified: "You don't know what that will become!  It might be a beautiful butterfly!"  And they took it to a nearby tree and made it a new shelter.  I was humbled (and hoping it is not more of the stink bugs or the roach-like things).

What are you grateful for today?

Gratitude, Day 2 (and 1!)

I challenged myself and those who read our newsletter to a daily practice of gratitude this month, and I pledged to post on mine each day.  Then, whoops!  A family emergency completely distracted me.  So for yesterday, November 1, I'm grateful I could be of service to others experiencing crisis.  I was not raised to think I could contribute; I was more typically the problem than an answer!  So it's a gift to be able to be present, not having to fix anything, just being with.

Today I'm back home, and it's been another busy day.  I'm grateful for returning home, for having a home to return to.  I'm grateful for the money to buy groceries, and the car to go get them, and the time to prepare healthy meals for us.  I'm grateful for those who come to see me in spiritual direction.  And I'm grateful for the beautiful, bizarre gourds that are on our kitchen table!

I'll try to post the picture of them.  I'll be grateful when my computer finds it!

Jesus Prayer continues

I've now been praying the Jesus Prayer for almost three weeks.  Here's how it's been so far.

At first I really sank into it.  I've been praying it solidly through our noon silent prayer, and then during the day when there is an open space or it came to me while doing something else.  Still not much, maybe 500 times a day.   But significant.  I'm doing it now.

So, at first I loved it.  I found the rhythm keeps running through me even when my mind wanders to other things, and I can come back to it without reproach or feeling that I failed.  In fact, it's much like centering prayer - or how I'd like to be in centering prayer, but am not!  I'm better off with a mantra of some sort.

Lately, though, I've had some trouble with it.  The world is in a shambles, and I'm praying for mercy for "me."  It feels very individualist, as though I can be saved while my community, my country, my world descend into darkness.  So sometimes I've prayed "Lord Jesus Christ, have mercy on us."  But then I remember that my commitment is to do this, this way, for a month.  So I return.

As I write this, I think: asking for mercy for myself need not be an individualist or isolationist response.  I am part of the body of Christ, and I cannot receive the fullness of mercy while others are suffering.  So in praying for mercy for myself, I can indeed be praying for all those to whom I am bound by a common humanity.

The prayer can be individualistic.  If I see myself in isolation as I pray, if I see myself as separate from you, the prayer will lead me there.  But it doesn't have to.

Thanks for reading me in process, for helping me to see this.  If I didn't care about you I wouldn't be writing; and if I weren't writing, my prayer would be stuck.  So you are helping me pray!  I pray that your prayers will be answered as well.

"Show us your mercy, O God, and grant us your salvation" (Ps. 85)

Our October newsletter

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Lord have mercy!

This month the Companions are reading the Way of the Pilgrim, the Russian classic about the Jesus Prayer.  I've read it before, almost as a novel.  This time I decided to spend the month actually following instructions as well as I can, to see what happens.

The Jesus Prayer is one answer to Paul's admonition to "pray without ceasing."  The words sometimes vary.  The long form is, "Lord Jesus Christ, son of the living God, have mercy on me, a sinner."  The Way of the Pilgrim shortens that to "Lord Jesus Christ, have mercy on me."  I know some people who shorten it even more, breathing in "Jesus" and breathing out "mercy."  The important thing is the name of Jesus, and the prayer for mercy.

I have preferred the long form, though I sometimes rebel against focusing on my sin.  Sometimes I've changed it to, "Lord Jesus Christ, son of the living God, thank you for my life."  But this month I'm trying to do it as the book says.  So I'm repeating, "Lord Jesus Christ, have mercy on me."

In the book, the narrator's teacher tells him to start with 3000 repetitions a day.  Eventually he does 12,000, then he is free to just let it roll around and through him.  I'm not at 3000, and I don't really expect to get there, but I'm working on it.  My first day I was in retreat, and I managed about 500.  Since then I'm not always counting, so I can't be sure.  I've got a prayer rope, and a rosary, and a bead bracelet, so it's not that I can't count; it's that I'm praying it now, for example, while I write.  Hard to count.  I'm praying it during our noonday silent prayer, during walks, during silence, when I move from one room to another.  I'm praying it now.

The book promises joy and delight for those who pray this consistently.  I don't have a lot of experience to report yet, but I do have some glimmers.  This morning I prayed while I walked around the grounds of our land and the monastery next door, and I found myself filled with joy; but that might just be the walk in beauty.  I was reverting to the long form again, I noticed.  It seems to fit my walking and breathing rhythm.  But I'm trying to stick with the recommended version.

So I invite you to join me this month in this experiment.  Would you like to try the Jesus Prayer?  If it doesn't feed you, at least it won't harm you.  We have our reading meeting on November 3, I think.  That gives you three weeks.  I'd love to be able to share your thoughts when we meet.

However you pray, do it wholeheartedly and in the awareness of Christ preceding you into prayer.  Know that you are joined by me and millions at any moment.  Thank you for your faithful life.

Our September newsletter

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More Foolish Wisdom, or Wise Foolishness

Paul has been continuing his theme of wisdom, but with a twist.  After naming his message as foolishness, he says that he does indeed speak wisdom, "though it is not a wisdom of this age or of the rulers of this age" (1 Cor. 2:6).  He speaks "God's wisdom, secret and hidden," given to him and to us through the Spirit.

Now, I am not a fan of esoteric doctrines or practices.  There's something there that sounds to me like exactly the kind of siren call that got the Corinthians in trouble, a lure away from humility and compassion to some sort of specialness.  But here the paradox of Christianity reveals itself again.

This secret and hidden wisdom is precisely the message of the cross.  Let go.  Stop judging one another.  Trust God past the bounds of reason.  This is not esoteric knowledge, which, as he says, "puffs up" (8:1); "anyone who claims to know something does not yet have the necessary knowledge" (8:2).  Just when I think I know the message of the Gospel, it escapes me!  Just when I'm ready to grasp it, it slips away.  I can only receive it in humility and patience.

I can't make a program out of this wisdom, this foolishness.  If I deliberately act like a fool to make a point about God, I'm claiming to know God's mind.  My "foolishness" is calculated and performed, a mask I've put on rather than a way of being with God.  So foolishness is never mine to claim, any more than wisdom is.  I have to lay aside my judgments of myself as well as others.

So what is left for me to do?  A lot.  Live my life.  Do justice, love kindness, and walk humbly with God.  If I do that, I won't have time to worry about how I'm doing!  Oh, it's easier to examine myself and castigate myself for my failings than it is to live differently; but it's not nearly as rewarding.

So no questions for reflection.  Just go.  Do, love, walk.
God be with you.

Foolish Wisdom

I'm trying to come back to my normal routines after a month consumed with moving.  I'm glad to finally have a desk again, and a chance to reflect on Scripture.

A small joke on me:  Elizabeth and I have been reading through the World Wisdom Bible and the Epistles at Matins, rather than following the Episcopal office lectionary.  We're at the fourth chapter of First Corinthians.  Elizabeth has left for her long retreat, then I go away, so we agreed that while we're apart we will read the lectionary so we don't miss anything we want to discuss.  So this morning I opened the reading book, and we're starting First Corinthians!  I guess that's what I'm supposed to be reading these days.

And Paul reminds me again, in 1 Cor. 1:20-31, of the foolishness of the cross.  He doesn't pretend it makes sense by the standards of the world.  But he does call it the wisdom and power of God for those who are called to it.  I'm not going to go into who is called, or why we aren't all called.  But I'm pretty sure I'm called, because I experience the joy of this foolishness.  I revel in the crazy love of God, a love that makes me do crazy things.

What is the difference between the foolishness that is of God and just plain craziness?  It may seem that we can distinguish by the fruit, but that can be elusive.  If God's foolishness is wisdom, then it may be hard to judge whether the "fruit" of my life is sweet or sour.  Can it be as simple as listening for feelings of desolation or consolation?  No, because these can be influenced by many factors.

I think it may not be for me, for us, to judge this.  There may be community norms and understandings that help us see where we are flourishing and where we are in danger, but the real edge of Godly foolishness is likely to be where the norms are less secure and less binding.  Then we meet the real power of God, in trust and faithfulness.  We do our best, and pray:  God, keep me close. Whatever happens, let me know your presence and your love.

As we begin our adventure in a new place, the bills are mounting up.  The work load is bigger, household tasks multiply.  Fear can creep in.  But this whole ride these past five years have been one long exercise in foolish trust.  What a great life!

Where are you being called to foolishness?  Where is your wisdom constraining your vision?  Pray God for the courage to live in God's wisdom and power.  And let me know what you find!

Back and Forth

I'm horrified to see that I haven't written on this page for over a month.  Our Facebook page has done slightly better, but I just left you all behind.  So if you don't get our newsletter, here are the headlines:

We moved back to West Park NY, right next door to the Holy Cross Monastery, on the same road we lived on before.  We are renting from the Church of the Ascension.  It's great to be back, though moving is hard.  We hope and pray that we will be here for many years.

Dario Ghersi made his first annual commitment as a Covenant Companion on August 11, at the end of our annual retreat.  We are excited for him and for us, as he moves more deeply into shared leadership of the Companions.  His commitment was witnessed by the Coffee Table Communion community, which has become its own entity without our planning - the Holy Spirit doing more than we can plan!

 

Our covenant groups are evolving to enable people to better live the covenant in their particular locations and lives.  The format will be changing, and we will be able to accommodate more people.  The new group meets beginning in February, and each group will meet monthly for a year at a time before members decide whether and how to continue with the Companions.  More details on this will come soon.

That's the big news.  I pledge to return to regular reflection soon.  I will have a week's vacation soon, so I can't promise full speed yet; I just want you to know I appreciate your reading and praying for us.  If there's anything on your mind and heart, anything that needs prayers, let me know.   May God bless you and keep you.

Transfiguration Contemplation

Readings for the Transfiguration:
Exodus 34:29-35; Psalm 99; 2 Peter 1:13-21; Luke 9:28-36

Today, the Feast of the Transfiguration, is my favorite feast after Easter and Mary Mag Day.  This is the day when Jesus shines forth in glory, just for a moment, just enough to dazzle and baffle the three with him.  This is the day of contemplation.

Since my retreat last month I've been thinking about contemplation, "contemplative life," and contemplative vocation.  For years when people called me "a contemplative," I'd bristle.  I'd object, I'd refuse.  I think I heard "enclosed."  Behind that I heard "lazy" or "selfish."  I'd say we were contemplatives in action, or mixing traditions, or whatever, but I refused the label "contemplative."

Now, I do have problems with nouns.   To call someone "a contemplative" seems too simple and sweeping, like so many labels.  What do you know about someone when you use a noun like that?  What do you overlook or refuse to see, because it doesn't fit the picture you have of that noun?  I still don't want to say "I'm a contemplative."  I'm a beloved child of God who -

has a contemplative vocation.  There, I said it.  I first entered religious life 17 years ago looking to pray, to know God, to share that with others.  I had no sense of ministry beyond that.  It was, I told people, the first really selfish decision I made in my life.  I did not ask what my family would think, what my friends or my mentors would think.  They thought I was crazy.  I didn't ask what would make me financially secure.  I wanted to know God.

So here I sit.  Sometimes I walk, or cook, or eat, or laugh uproariously.  Sometimes I play the drums or sing.  But I pray, in all of these ways and others.  And my world is ordered by the call to pray.  This is what I do.

Contemplation has been described as a long loving look at the real.  The Transfiguration reminds us that the "real" is not just the empirical, the visible or measurable.  The glory of God that lies at the heart of everything is the real.  In contemplation we catch a glimpse of that glory in the midst of the daily.  The glorious dishes.  The glorious bathroom needing cleaning.  The glorious neighbor and glorious enemy.  All is transfigured, showing its glory.

And then a thought comes through: "What's for dinner?"  "When are they going to call me?"  Whatever.  The glory is there too.  I can't stand to be face to face with it for long, but I know it's there.  When I close my eyes I can feel the light on my eyelids.  I breathe in God.  I breathe out peace.   In my little clay jar I carry the light, and I see your light.  And that's enough.

Success? Failure!

Just after our July newsletter went out, we heard from the latest bank.  They turned us down for a mortgage loan.  We're too new, too small to take a chance on.  They suggested another place that works with churches, but we aren't really a church.  One of our great gifts - the fact that we are outside easy boxes - is a liability when dealing with the financial establishment.

At first I was really sad and discouraged.  Not discouraged about our community or my vocation or about whether God is with us, but discouraged on that human level, the ego level.  I want things to be moving upward and outward!  I want to show you all that we are growing and on to something!  Blah blah blah.  My poor ego was crying.

Then we talked with one of our mentors who reminded us of Jung's great maxim: success for the ego is failure for the Self; failure for the ego is success for the Self.  Sounds sort of like Jesus, who humbled himself to show us the glorious possibilities of humanity.  And it's true: I have grown from occasional successes, I've come to feel more capable or secure and able to be more generous, but my greatest growth has come from the times I've "failed."  When I hit the wall, hit bottom, hit the dead end, that's when compassion and wisdom and trust and faithfulness can grow.  My ego always thinks it's a bad thing, but on a deeper level I know it's an opening.

So we are back to looking for rentals.  We could try to force this, but it doesn't feel right.  We have never been really certain we should be owners anyway.  I am certain that forced solutions are never as creative or fruitful as the ones that come when I let go.

This Sunday we celebrate the feast of the Transfiguration.  Jesus and his companions had a glimpse of glory, but it came with the message of crucifixion and dwelling in the depths.  It was not an easy message to hear, I'm sure, and not an easy message to share.  "You must lose your life to save it."  "I have to go die in order to rise again."  Success for the ego is failure for the Self.

So today I'm sort of grateful we got turned down.  If we had been approved we'd be off searching for something that may not belong to us.  Instead I got the gift of coming back, of knowing that all is well whatever is going on on the surface level.  And I get the gift of being open to greater glory than I can imagine or engineer.  I think I got the better deal.

Blessings on all your endeavors.  May they open you to God in new and unexpected ways!

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More Seeds, plus a few other images

Sunday Scriptures:
1 Kings 3:5-12; Psalm 119:129-136; Romans 8:26-39; Matthew 13:31-33, 44-52

When you've got this reading from Romans, who needs more?  But we get more.  Much more.

If you've been reading here lately, you've heard me talking to myself about putting aside ideas of success or impact in favor of being faithful and trusting.  If you got our newsletter yesterday, you might have heard a plaintive note: why isn't anyone else coming to join us?  Again the conclusion: not my business.  My job is to be faithful to this gift.

Sandra Schneiders framed her masterwork on the religious life around the parable of the treasure in the field.  It could as easily have been the pearl.  Those of us who follow this call know that we've found the big one, the treasure of treasures.  It's worth all we have.

Of course, there are other pearls and other vocations.  Someone called to family life might find that pearl in their spouse and children.  Others will find it in their work or ministry.  Blessed are those who find their treasure, and who do what it takes to claim it.

Pedro Arrupe, former Superior General of the Jesuits, wrote this about vocation:

"Nothing is more practical than finding God, that is, than falling in love in a quite absolute, final way.  What you are in love with, what seizes your imagination, will affect everything.  It will decide what will get you out of bed in the morning, what you will do with your evenings, how you spend your weekends, what you read, who you know, what breaks your heart, and what amazes you with joy and gratitude.

Fall in love, stay in love, and it will decide everything."

Mustard seeds that grow into huge bushes.
Leaven that makes a whole loaf grow.
Pearls beyond price, treasure worth our all.

That's what I'm after, for me and for you.

And, as Paul says, it's all there waiting for us.  Nothing can separate us from the love of God.  We can turn our backs and pretend not to see, but God is there.  Offering treasure in tiny packages.

What are you in love with?