I Ache

Aching feels crystalline. Yes, the shape in and of itself is vulnerable. It can break. We know that. Likewise, light shines through a crystal. It bounces. It warms and radiates.

Her story of the woman going into her tent that evening in downtown Portland, wagging her bum, with three men watching and licking their chops, has stayed with me. Every time it surfaces, I literally shake my head and try to dis-remember. It hurts that much.

And the institutional overlay: Recently someone asked if I was going to watch the hearings and I responded, “Absolutely not!” I know better. These days, I am too fragile for live-action and in-your-face. And now, my God!, Roe vs Wade overturned. Under the rage is sheer heartbreak.

I hope there is a way to heal this deep ache. I want to pace myself, honor what I know about warmth and radiance. I can wait here on the porch beside the garden watching and absorbing the light. I can share stories. What are yours?

Cathedral Gold

On Sunday we blessed the apiary on the roof of St. Mark’s Cathedral in Seattle. Rob is the head beekeeper. He knows the value of holy honey.

More than 30 years ago with our first child, we found a community to support us. With our FOO’s far away in Virginia and Michigan, we didn’t want to do this very important work of parenting alone. We found a giant organ and several different groups that gathered in several different ways on Sundays and throughout the week in a literally-leaking-at-the-time large concrete building overlooking the houseboat where we lived. For us, it was fortuitous that we fell into an ancient story we had already heard. What was and is more important in that regard is that the collective body allowed Rob, and me, to develop our personal understandings of This Great Metaphor.

Such that, and I am continually amazed by this…

Rob can lean into the first Bible—The Book of Nature—the one that has taught and held all of us since time began. And I can help mentor a band of pilgrims in a seminary course where some of the academic words that have come to be associated with This Exquisiteness are studied.

Over time what is most delightful and surprising to me is we can be still and worship together, sometimes in the same place, and often alone in Creation.

Getting to Graceland

Artwork by Veronica Rubilar

We have been listening to “Miracle and Wonder,” an interview with Paul Simon. When asked what he will do now that he has created “Seven Psalms” for his father, Paul replies he will wait and see. The guidance will come.

I agree. Creation itself is plenty. Reading scripture day and night, then posting 100 words or less with a photo illustration each day of Lent, has been curiously delightful and enough.

Like Peter (and Paul too), I am amazed at what has happened.

Reading (among many)

Su, Apr 17 – Luke 24:12

Day 40 – Liminality

We are at the beach. It’s Holy Saturday. There’s a full moon. Needless to say, I am seeing things. Hearing them too. As in things I can’t prove. Not “facts.”

I ordered new bedding for Mom last night. As best I can tell she is ready to move. ¡Ojala! Hard love. And deep.

They tell me Jesus will rise and live forever. All will. As in the metaphor includes everyone and everything: Limitless Love. I want to believe this with all my heart and soul and mind and strength. God, forgive my unbelief.

Reading (among many)

Sa, Apr 16 – Isaiah 55:1a