Leaving Is On My Mind

I have leaving on my mind, since I left my mom's house and southern California yesterday, and most likely won't be back there or here at my sisters or Further north for a few years.  Having lived in this place where moving 1/2 an hour away is a long distance, requiring adjustment of life rhythms--even the idea of going half way across the world seems unfathomable to many. "Why would you want to go? Can't you teach English or anything else here?" And yet that is where I find myself--in the unfathomable...on the journey to go without a logical reason why--  6 months here and I can see why many who don't have the compunction to follow this Mysterious Way, tell me I am crazy for attempting this. It is hard to leave them because they have become great friends and I long for them to understand.  (some days I long for myself to understand too)  Other people who do understand more of this Mysterious Way, are hard to leave for so many other reasons...they are all family, they are a strong source of encouragement and challenge. These qualities among many others, make the ache of leaving great. I know I have a hard head and am stubborn and selfish, which makes it difficult to understand love; I do not say this ache exists to teach me, but this ache that I feel when I leave a place is what it takes sometimes to remind me that Love exists.  I am learning that Love goes with us, and is not as frightful as I once had thought.  I am thankful that I live in a generation where communication is made easy through emails and skype and blogs, but I am even more grateful that I belong to a Family that spans geographical, and time distances.  As I go, I meet more and more of my Family.  I feel kinda like glue that sticks to you, and attaches to something new. So for all of you who are remaining here on this side of the world be strong and courageous living generously by the Love of this Mysterious Way; embracing the stranger and the beautiful and abundant Life.  Know that I am full of a good strong healthy ache for all of you, and carry this love for you as I connect to others I am yet to meet.

I hear You call

What is Truth,
      and does it hurt;
like a longing in the heart
      like the pain in her eyes.
            -Does Truth satisfy all?

A sword to split hairs
      A mask to hinder grace;
like a wet bandage, adhesive is gone
      like being off balance, no room for error.
            -Am I that transparent?

This strong craving,
      Yet fearful to trust;
like butterflies in the stomach
      like the sudden sound of a siren
            -Is it worth the cost?

Love's not a sham,
      but has a mysterious name;
like an elephant on an egg
      like a feather on a duck.
            -Which one is it?

Do my ears deceive me,
      Is what I hear true;
like Cyrano de Bergerac
       like Romeo and Juliet.
            -Are you sure?

Have I wasted my time,
      Am I preserved in fear;
like a ravishing lover
      like the aroma of spices.
            -I hear You call.

Selction of a prayer I read today...

Fulfilling the words and proclamations of the God-bearing Prophets, O Jesus, Thou didst appear on earth, and thou Who art uncontainable didst dwell among men. Wherefore, being healed by Thy wounds, we learned to chant: 

Alleluia. 

When the light of Thy truth shone in the world, devilish delusion was driven away; for the idols, O our Saviour, have fallen, unable to endure Thy power. But we who have received salvation cry to Thee: 

Jesus, Truth dispelling falsehood. 

Jesus, Light transcending every light. 

Jesus, King surpassing all in strength. 

Jesus, God constant in mercy. 

Jesus, Bread of life, fill me who am hungry. 

Jesus, Well-spring of knowledge, refresh me who am thirsty. 

Jesus, Garment of gladness, clothe me who am naked. 

Jesus, Haven of joy, shelter me who am unworthy. 

Jesus, Giver to those who ask, grant me mourning for my sins. 

Jesus, Finder of those who seek, find my soul. 

Jesus, Opener to those who knock, open my hardened heart. 

Jesus, Redeemer of sinners, wash away my sins. 

Jesus, Son of God, have mercy on me.    

I built a Sandcastle today...

I built a sandcastle, and then sat back and watched it wash away.  The process was slow but the out come was sure.  Having no foundation, and the reliable tide schedule was very effective in making sure that in just a few hours there was nothing left.  Familiarity with bible stories since my youth,  and a catchy tune, made sure that a certain parable came to mind.  "....the rains came down and the floods came up ...and the house on the sand went smash."
I also went to the Getty Villa with two friends on Monday.  We saw a lot of art and artifacts from the Greco-roman  era and a special collection of Byzantium art displaying early Christian depictions of belief and spirituality.  Trying to keep straight in my head the stories of Greek and other ancient gods such as Zeus, Athena, Artemis, Poseidon, and others; I was intrigued by how much belief was inscribed on everyday items of life.

What does the Getty Villa and a sand castle have in common? As I walked through the halls I remembered some of my more recent readings about how the ancient stories of gods and other stories influenced the times of the old testament, and then I built a sandcastle wondering what parts of my daily life are inscribed with stories of a false god? What will wash away in the rains of life and the floods of death? Where will the slice be when the sword of Truth has pierced through?  Will I have added to the lie in any part or will I have carved away and sculpted a life that is a vessel for Truth, worthy of the calling set before me? It is not a simple answer. for sand brick and stone are from similar materials under different conditions and wheat and tares grow close together.  I am just wondering...that's all.

Purple Trees

       When I first arrived in Long Beach, I was captivated by the flowering trees, and not just  that they had flowers on them in December, but how many trees were around and the different colours.  For the last five months since I continue to be in awe that there are so many types of blooming trees around here.  I Love it! When the purple trees came in bloom in march I again made remarks "look at all the flowers!" My mom and cousin have begun to laugh at how often I comment on them.
        This week my friend Jenny from Vancouver is in town, and i am celebrating that I am not the only one overjoyed by the purple trees, and constantly commenting on the small things in celebration of beauty.

Here is Jenny and one of the many Purple Trees (two things out of many that I am celebrating today) :

I have been thinking about patience this  morning; realizing that it is only when I am stretched beyond my limit do I actually grow.  Well I am growing now, and today I have been strangely encouraged by the writings of Catherine Doherty to three women who were being woken up to the harsh reality of their calling that lay before them.
"...It should be evident to you now that [any work] is built on the foundation of your self-surrender to God, your dedication both to His ideals and to the unreserved living out of His ideals as a member of this work to which He has called you.  In a word, what all of this means for you is the entering into His Passion.  Only this will make the foundations of the house being built [the Location of our work] on the rock that is Christ.  Anything else will be built on sand.
     Yes, you are beginning to lay the first stones of that foundation.  The Lord will supply you with many more, and you will have to carry them and lay them next to the others.  Then a time will pass and a day will come when you will be able to start the structure of the house itself.  That may be even more painful.  But these are the materials that God builds of and on.  So be ready, dearly beloved.  All is well with you because all is according to God's plan so far."

The Gift of Hearing

       My day starts with a tweet; not the modern kind that uses man made technology, but the soft sound of a young bird who can't stay still anymore because the sun is coming. the coo of a mourning dove tells it that it is not yet dawn and an owl of some sort agrees. The young bird's friends are awake now and start chirping their excitement for the dawn that will be.
       No, I am not in a rural location these birds have found their home on roof tops, telephone wires and my neighbors Banana tree that hangs right outside the window.  As I awake to this conversation I can hear the sound of a city that never stops--buzzes and whirs and faint honks of horns that in the early morning seem to travel three times the distance in the morning hush.
      The sounds are the presence of a world around me and a settling in to the understanding that I am only a small part of all of this.  My own insignificance sets me up to listen to others, and as I shift to a sitting position I hear that though a small part I contribute to all of this in my own way.
      More sounds flood my ears as the hours progress: the laugh of children walking to school, Hispanic music from across the alley, the call of "tamales" from the street seller,  the gong in the distance from the Buddhist temple around the corner, the parrots in the trees on my bike ride, the sound of waves crashing on the beach ...
      As the day goes on I recognize the greatest joy--Each sound calls for a response, and I as the Hearer am invited into a connection with what I hear. I participate in conversations listening and responding--the ability to interact because we have heard, and the delight it gives to respond well to what I hear. I am called into response with my entire being. It reminds me of the cosmic conversation,  that seems like a mystery is waiting to be revealed each day. Part of this gift is hearing.  In Jesus' words and the words of the ancient prophets "to him who has ears to hear, let him hear."

A prayer I Pray today:

Father,

I abandon myself into your hands;

do with me what you will.

Whatever you may do, I thank you:

I am ready for all, I accept all.

Let only your will be done in me,

and in all your creatures.

I wish no more than this, O Lord


Into your hands I commend my soul;

I offer it to you

with all the love of my heart,

for I love you Lord,

and so need to give myself,

to surrender myself into your hands,

without reserve,

and with boundless confidence,

for you are my Father.


Charles Foucald

The Gift of Touch

"And a one, two three, five six seven, one, two three, five six seven..." our instructor counted out the basic rhythm of Salsa as we in the class felt like contortionists trying to follow his directions When he demonstrated the moves, they looked as smooth as butter, but in our attempts we were off beat and stepping in opposite directions.  "Keep the connection--that is your communication tool as you dance; relax--feel the movement and respond..."  We still didn't get it, and us who were supposed to be relaxed and being led, kept trying to step out thinking we knew what we were supposed to do.  

So came the next instructions "Followers, close your eyes." 

Without sight, the sense of touch was highlighted-- I could feel everything. 

The beat of the music increased, the gentlest pressure on the shoulder was felt and the softest brush on the palm of the hand spoke of what the one leader was asking of me. I thought to myself "wow, I have not honestly allowed myself to feel the presence of others in a long time." When in Vancouver I offered to others to hold their hand when they were in they were sick and in the hospital, I gave hugs to women who were crying on the streets, I was happy to give, and yet not so willing to receive. I can't say I am any better now. One thing is for sure, that hour of being led with my eyes closed gave me a glimpse into the reason touch is one of the five major ways we receive love, and maybe why Jesus' touch had the power to heal.  I know the lesson is not yet over; I still find that there are some holds and moves that I resist.  Lord teach me the trust of dancing with my eyes closed through life, that I may truly see.