An excerpt from my writings on Nov. 21, 2014

The invitation last Friday was to “hide deeper in the cleft of the mountain”. Follow into the dark openness of the cave in the mountain. I had felt afraid of this invitation. I did not understand where it might be coming from, was this good, or a misleading thought.

It was the consolation in the afternoon that fear was a common response to the Invitations of the Lord. Examples such as When Mary was addressed by the angel she was afraid; Elijah hid his face before going out when the gentle breeze passed by; and many more, again and again. So I said yes Lord, take me there. When I was aware of my thoughts after this there was a repetition of one word of praise; Ps.92:15 “...He is my Rock, and there is no unrighteousness in Him.”

I recognize afresh my actions, though I live in a rhythm my ways are so undisciplined. Am I motioning but not getting the heart involved? Am I digging for gold in the heart of a mountain with a plastic spoon? I recognize this time given to this daily rhythm may be for only a short time, and so my heart is reluctant to embrace it. Lord, help me give my all to you who lasts eternally; yes though I am fearful I want to find my safety in the heart of the mountain and dwell there.  

Silence and Fear...

You asked, ‘Who is this that obscures my plans without knowledge?’

Surely I spoke of things I did not understand,

things too wonderful for me to know.“You said, ‘Listen now, and I will speak..." Job 42:2-4

Today is my "Poustinia" day. It's a old Russian term for a kind of hermit...they were in a way dedicated to prayer and silence for a particular place/city.

Today I spend the day in prayer, and hold a space of silence. It is not until I am silent (and still) that I realize how noisy the world is. We each pursue something and that makes a sound. The hammering is from those pursuing a better physical life,--whether daily survival, or wealth, each hammer saying something. the horns honk from impatience, or fear that someone might get in the way, might interfere with their busy goings. It is all noise.

The Loud Speaker has been playing recordings all day long since 5am (and during the night) until now at 2pm in the afternoon, still showing no signs of stopping. It is calling people to charity, spreading the teachings of Buddha meditations and all around morality. Such sounds seem to fill the air and make silence seem impossible. Strange that a religion known for its meditaions can be so noisy.

Today, if I am honest, is not my internal world just as noisy? Even now as I sit my mind is going, and all this I say is in front of the Lord. How presumptuous am I to think that God would be listening to my racket. Would he not wish for me to cease even for half an hour,to stop my striving and be still and know that God is God. What a fearful thing! Yet instead of allowing this fear to produce wisdom and listening to God's instruction, the choice sits before me, do I choose to push out silence with my prayers, my hopes, my thoughts, my questions, my reality, which in my really ignorant moments I think it sounds good to claim that God loves them, with a mushy love because God Loves me.

Reality is that it says God delights in those who fear Him, that obey Him, that listen to His teaching. How can I be this with no silence, or stillness, with no fear of God?

I sat in a moment of Beauty...

Yesterday I was asked what I believe, or rather to be exact, "How do I know that God is a reality? How do I know that God is True? You see, I want to know, I have heard many things but how can I know? If you cannot say how one knows then please share what is your story?"
      The man was 12 when history happened in this place in 1942. I can only imagine the things he  has seen and experienced.
      After listening to all I had to say about what I believe from Moses and my experiences until now, He shared and asked or rather mused over questions aroused by all he has seen. As I sat I was aware that this country's history was in this man's heart/thoughts through the lens of searching for truth.  He said it himself after every question..."I have heard this; is it true?" He is diligently searching for a deep knowledge of Truth. I heard the longing in his voice; "I have heard God can change things, and make things happening this world, is it true, can God?
      Such Wisdom present in his seeking, such longing, so many years. I hear it in his voice; I see in his eyes his searching heart. I sat in a moment of beauty.

Caterpillar In The Park

Soft pink and tiny purple
set on a bed of green.
My toes giggle
My fuzzy friend wiggles up on me.
Some day little fella,
You'll have colours like these flowers
Soft and delicate
Swift and free.
No longer constrained by tiny toes,
Or holding all life's woes.
Twirling, Fluttering, tasting sweet nectar
And charming young lovers from thoughts of all else.

Until all is ready and Ripe

The Prophets spoke in completed tense,

Yet I am sitting halfway in between.

At times its hard to Imagine, 

That someday things will be new.

You have written the Truth

On the pages of History,

You say it again and again

As History repeats itself.

Purify us with Water;

Cleanse us with Fire

Illumine in us this Way O Lord.

Our groaning is our fault

We forget to turn to you.

But you are faithfully calling,

But who can hear your words?

First Adam and then the second

Seven days to completion

How slow yet steady time moves

As I meditate on this Mystery.

I have found a lamp with oil

And so I wait in darkness,

For the coming of the dawn

The long awaited Prince of Peace

I check and double check, 

the jar still has Oil; 

It is sloshing around in there now 

but will it be enough?

A treasure in a field,

a pearl of great price, 

A seed has been planted

and Leaven is rising in my soul.

It is a story like all others 

Yet is holds a special touch

For its more than all others

These words are deep and True.

A beautiful Disguise My Lord

One would surely not have guessed

That such Majesty would disguise their clothes

In such a mocking way.

If you Love us, just say so

And so you have said;

But what heartache, and desperation

The one you love says No.

So take me I am willing

Though scarred and worn and tired;

I don't know if I can love

Or if what my heart speaks is love.

But if you want it I am yours

There's no one else's I want to be

If you'll have me,count me in.

But could you lend me clothes?

Mine are all tattered and torn

Not right for such an occasion.

It doesn't have to be fancy

Just a white will do

I will wear my hair down

There is no need for a crown.

As long as I can see you

All will be ok,

Just be near me always

I'm just a little bit afraid

Trembling for love I think

not sure what you will do

Don't get me wrong, I trust you

Its just all so new to me

I don't doubt you,

Nor the love in my heart, 

But I doubt me, why me

When there's so many others.

My joy and my delight

If you left me I would die,

For your love is more than sustaining

It s honey on my lips.

In your arms my fears turn to trembles

Some day I will walk the Way

In purity to you.

And see you standing there

In your House, 

A thousand smiles on your face.

I have waited a while, but you have waited longer still

Until all is ready, and ripe 

and dripping out its love for you

You have been so patient, so kind.

12 days...

Each country celebrates a bit differently, each religion has their own ways of trying to give honor. Here is no different. In the days leading up to the celebrations I understood that there would be music and dancing and things to buy. One thing the people with whom I talked, forgot to mention was that these would be taking place not just in the day or evening but throughout the night. One might think what follows is a bit exaggerated but I assure you I write this in a way that communicates the events of the ten days as well as my feelings around them:

Day 1: Curiosity is aroused as Foreign words to me blast through the speakers lashed onto a pushcart going down the street, and bamboo and tarps are being strung together into stalls of little treasures. I am Curious.

Day 2: new foods I have not seen before line the street along with ones I know are delicious. That night I hear the music. A mix of modern music and traditional drums and my imagination stirs up images of people down on the streets below eating and laughing and enjoying their festival.

Day 3: My friend takes me around and I see the stalls and the Ferris wheel and the bouncy house and I am amused at the things I see. There is a special stage for the group of three women who perform a dance show three times during each day. The sounds I hear out the window make a bit more sense.

Day4: The music sounds like surround sound. What a gift, eh?

Day 5: We normally play Taize songs or Benedictine chants, but why bother when there is music provided for us.

Day 6: I try to lean back and find pleasure in the music, as I take in the soft evening light through the open window; the birds flying the breeze is blowing…and the gongs clang, and the banging of bells ring out over the open air speakers. We like the traditional music, yes we like the traditional music…we LIKE the traditional music….I tell myself half convincingly.

Day 7: All Night. Wow that's intense I try to imagine them dancing...one traditional, another Techno, and on and on and on...

Day 8: And on and on... They have played music from last night all through today and long into the night. I struggle through the day wondering how to hold today as a day of prayer and “silence” as we had planned.

Day 9: The power went out tonight! Such a small thing as no power didn't stop our neighbours; they give the energizer bunny a run for his money. I think they ran the generator just so they could keep the music going.

Day 10: I am pretty sure they turned the music up at 3am tonight.

Day 11: Modern upbeat music all night again. 3 nights in a row. Is it punk, techno, rock,? ...It is is loud and all night, this countries has a style of its own.

Day 12: The music stopped at 3am and the shouting out numbers began. They looked as if counting a long line of monks. At 5am all was silent, and the sun rose a new day.

Myanmar Men in Colour

It is a fun thing to see
A man in bright array.
Pink, and turquoise
Purple and blue.

It Bothers them not
to be decked out in colour
painted as a flower
In the sun's warm glow.

On the rooftops they sweat
Building their hopes for the future
In longyi green plaid, pink hat
and flip-flops.

Bags with tassels
Neon pink shoes
and t-shirts that say
Punk rock skulls.

It is what it is
Frilly umbrellas and all
So we leave it at that
And admire Myanmar men in colour.