"First you need only look:
Notice and honor the radiance of
Everything about you…..
Play in this universe. Tend
All these shining things around you:
The smallest plant, the creatures and
objects in your care.
Be gentle and nurture. Listen……
As we experience and accept
All that we really are………
We grow in care."      
        Anne Hillman

I write this from a favorite coffee shop that overlooks the backwaters of the Mississippi River. I come here when I need to sit on "my perch" as I refer to it….a tall chair at the back window which houses several bird feeders. If I sit still enough, and am not dressed in clothing that is too bright, I can remain observant less than a foot away from the birds as they feed their tiny bodies. Already this morning the chickadees and gold finches have been busily eating. Over the time I have come to this chair I have seen countless birds, observed them in the trees below and at very close proximity. It is a form of meditation for me, hugging a warm cup of coffee with my hands, sitting as still as I possibly can, and looking eye to eye(that’s how it seems) with these beautiful,fragile, vulnerable, creatures.

Sitting this close, I can observe the ones who’ve ‘done battle‘ in some way…their feathers are missing in places. I think of those people I know who have a similar look. Life has not treated them kindly. (A nut hatch has just arrived.) I can also see closely those who are the ‘thrivers‘….those who manage to escape any of life’s hard knocks with the fullness of their feathers intact. I think also of those humans I know who seem to live a charmed life, no ruffled feathers for them. This morning I send my blessing to all of these.

Yesterday I sat with a group of friends viewing a DVD by the cosmologist Brian Swimme. Its title was
The Power of the Universe. It was a fascinating lecture about the interconnectedness of the Universe, our place as humans in it, and the message of what it means to live at this time in the history of our planet. It was dense material but I walked away from it all with a sense of hope, a sense of potential, a sense that, indeed, we are living at a unique and important time.(Crows keep watch from the tree tops.) We are being called to be caregivers of this amazing home in very significant ways that will have an impact on the future for not only our children and grandchildren but for all the species,both plant and animal, that share in our living.

Somehow watching these tiny winged ones confirms this….. we are inextricably connected with one another in this Sacred Web. (A flock of geese just made their way down river.) So today I will take a step in what I hope is the right direction. I take this moment to honor the radiance out this window….the birds, the river, the tree, the humans who share this comfy, coffee house.And so first, may my steps…may yours…be gentle and nurturing and may we grow in care, honoring the creation and the Creator by our living.

So much, so very much, depends on it.

"Breathe on me breath of God, fill me with life anew, that I may love what thou dost love, and do what thou wouldst do. " Edwin Hatch 1878

Yesterday I spent my day getting through the lists….to-do…..to-call…..to-write….to-pay…..to-cancel…..
to-email…to-find…. to-wash…to-buy.  So many ‘to’s"! I admit I did make some headway in it all but I did not finish. It seems these days, I never finish all that needs to be done, should be done, could be done. Do you ever feel like that?

I guess the reality in some people’s lives is that there will always be more to do than is possible. I am also aware of all those who long for something, anything, to do…meaningful work that will not only fulfill their deepest longings but also pay their bills. It is a curious world. Those with too much to do, those with too little.

But yesterday, late in the afternoon, I decided that it was time for me to stop, to say "enough!". It was clear that I would never really accomplish everything, my mind was no longer behaving in a creative way, and I simply needed to take a "breather." What was not finished would have to wait till tomorrow. I needed to take a walk, get outside in the beautiful sunshine, clear my mind, connect with my own breath.

"When we breath, we do not stop inhaling because we have taken in all the oxygen we will ever need, but because we have all the oxygen we need for this breath. Then we exhale, release carbon dioxide, and make room for more oxygen." writes Wayne Mueller. "Sabbath, like the breath, allows us to imagine we have done enough work for this day."

I didn’t consciously think about the break I took as Sabbath. But as I look back on the moment when I said "Enough!" that was what I was doing. I was declaring with my body, with my breath, that for now, it was enough to simply be, to simply breathe, to allow the Breath of God to blow over me.

Mueller continues:"When we stop, we see that the world continues without us;sweet humility and gentle mindfulness bequeath the grace to stop, and see that it is good, there is no need to keep pushing. When we stop, with no chores or agendas, we let our eyes rest, our bodies heal, our activities languish, and taste the fruits of our labor."

So, today my prayer for you is that you create some Sabbath moments for yourself. Perhaps it is time to say "Enough!" and to take some time to ‘languish’.….just saying the word can make us feel better. Turn off the computer, power down the phone, put on your walking shoes, and head out. The world is waiting for you!

"Breathe on me Breath of God, till I am wholly thine, till all this earthly part of me glows with thy fire divine."

The woman was on her knees in the wet grass, camera poised a few inches away from a few newly fallen leaves. Their red and orange was brilliant against the summer’s green and she knelt to preserve the memory of their colors.  I only saw her for a moment as I turned a corner on my way to the office. I really wanted to stop the car and join her, kneeling to honor the ending of one season and the arrival of still another. But I was running late and a car was rushing up behind me and so I kept on, propelled by speed and the urgency of the clock.Inside me however, I knew she was doing the more noble thing…trying to capture the beauty of a fallen leaf…a beauty that lasts so briefly.

One of my favorite memories of childhood was collecting leaves, mostly maple or oak, and placing them between pieces of waxed paper. I would arrange them in different configurations, matching and contrasting colors… bright yellow, burnt orange, fiery red. Then, with my mother’s help, I would gently iron the two pieces of paper together. It was primitive laminating! Then we would hang the paper in the windows, creating a sense of forever falling leaves.

Somehow when I did this I hoped to capture the beauty of the fall colors and hold them forever. But of course,as the sun shone through the window the leaves still turned brown, dying not on the ground but between the pieces of paper. It is their nature, one that cannot be captured but gratefully appreciated. The miraculous cycle of birth, life, death and rebirth could not be contained. It was an important lesson to learn and one each of us, I believe, continues learning with the arrival and departure of seasons. It is a lesson that keeps us humble and,if we allow ourselves, filled with gratitude.

The autumn season has only begun here in Minnesota. There is much time to observe, honor and be present to in the change that is happening around us. But can we capture the beauty and hold it forever? Probably not. But we can kneel down and gives thanks. We can marvel at the ability of unseen forces to take green and turn it into red,yellow,gold, orange. And perhaps, that is our real work.

"The angel showed me the river of the water of life, bright as crystal,flowing from the throne of God through the middle of the city. On either side of the river is the tree of life….and the leaves of the tree are for the healing of the nations."  Revelation 22:1-2

There they were…thirty or forty geese, slowly walking in their ambling way, pecking at the ground, holding a sort of  meditative space…..on an airport runway. This is the runway I see every morning as I drive on Hwy. 62. It was an ironic sight. Just as a huge Northwest plane came over my car on its way to landing, the geese rose en mass into the air and out of harms way. But for just a moment there was the mirror image of flight….geese to plane…plane to geese.

Surely it was out of this vision of flight that the Wright brothers and their likes began to dream of human flight. We are fascinated by flight…being able to take off from our attachment to Earth and to float on the air around us. Most super heroes and heroines have the gift of flight…that ability to rise above whatever is happening and to fly away, to float gently on the invisible, to save whatever needs to be saved.

One of my favorite parts of the stories of King Arthur is when Merlin is teaching the young Arthur about what it means to be a leader, a king. Merlin, with his magical abilities, turns Arthur into an eagle and sends him off to view the world. When Arthur returns, Merlin asks him what he noticed, what he had learned by being able to fly. Arthur simply says, "there are no boundaries." He goes on to describe how in flying over the land he realized how all the fences, the gates, the walls we erect are really artificial…that when viewed from flight the Earth is all one, unified.

I am not sure that we have learned this lesson very well. Our sense of unity on this planet gets pulled in countless directions each day. We continue to build barriers, both real and invisible, in an effort to divide, to create some false sense of safety, to keep those "unlike" us out, to keep those most like us, within.

Oh, to be like the geese, to fly over the land and see not barriers but beauty, not walls but wonder. Perhaps our fascination with flight is not just about being able to get someplace faster, to places far away. Perhaps someplace deep inside of us, we also long to be able to have the perspective that allows us to see past the artificial boundaries to what is true……unity.

"I know all the birds of the air, and all that moves in the field is mine. Those who bring thanksgiving honor me, to those who go the right way, I will show the wholeness of God."  Psalm 50

"Sleep my child and peace attend thee, all through the night. Guardian angels God will send thee, all through the night.Soft the drowsy hours are creeping, hill and vale in slumber sleeping,
                              I my loving vigil keeping, all through the night." 

"There really are only two ways to live: you can live as if there are no miracles or you can live as if everything is a miracle." Albert Einstein

This morning while listening to the quirky radio show I listen to nearly every morning, the play list included two songs that were about Albert Einstein. I was laughing in the car thinking about how much fun it must have been to have written a song about this wild-haired genius, the challenge of finding words that rhyme with "relativity", the flights of fancy that went into deciding to create music about this seemingly odd, but brilliant little man.

It is a beautiful, crisp, morning and the autumn light is shining on dew covered lawns, on leaves beginning to change to their fall wardrobe while people walking outside have a red glow to their frigid faces. Listening to the music I was reminded of this Einstein quote. This person who spent his life in scientific circles, those places where I would assume the word "miracle" was not regularly used, had the audacity to say such a thing……and someone remembered and preserved it. That is a miracle in and of itself..

Believing in miracles really is a choice. Miracle….an event or action that apparently contradicts known scientific laws and is hence thought to be due to supernatural causes, especially to an act of God…thus says Webster.  Yet, Einstein in his world of proof and reason spoke of miracles.

I could use a miracle these days…how about you? The harshness of the world seems palpable these days. But then again perhaps what I really need do is open my eyes, and my heart, to the miracles that are present…everywhere. Try those leaves that are changing into their autumn garb…how does that really work and why is it so beautiful? Those birds collecting themselves together in tour groups heading to warmer climes….amazing. The lone sunflower in my garden that has the vanity to produce five huge blossoms….marvelous. The small, frail hands I held yesterday…the love they have shown to the world…unbelievable. The circle of friends that gathered around one another last night and shared the triumphs and trials of life….unspeakable grace. So many miracles….so little time to see them all.

Perhaps the genius who could have used a good hair stylist had it right….miracle or not…it is up to us. How will you choose?

I hope this weekend finds you bathed in miracles……enjoy!

"When he entered the house, the blind ones came to him; and Jesus said to them, ‘Do you believe that I am able to do this?’ and they said "Yes, Lord." Then he touched their eyes and said, "According to your faith let it be done to you." And their eyes were opened.  Matthew 9:28-29

Often at the changing of the seasons I have fitful sleeping and deep dreaming. Last night was a perfect example. I had a dream that seemed to last all night. It was a "journey" dream….I traveled from room to room, up stairs, through long hallways. There were many doors in my dream. I kept going in and finding I was not where I thought I was going and the people I expected to find there were replaced by others, many of whom I did not want to see. I am sure an interpreter of dreams could have a field day with these images…..I woke up not feeling very rested…and not particularly wiser from having had the dream.

Dreams play a special role in our scriptures. The prophet Joel foretells the time when "your old men shall dream dreams". Joseph in the Hebrew scriptures dreams all kinds of wild things about Pharaoh and his dreams get him into alot of trouble with his jealous brothers. The Magi in the Christmas story are warned in a dream to go home "by a different way". Jacob saw angels climbing ladders in his dream, received the gift of the land of his ancestors, and declared the place holy…"God was in this place and I did not know it".

Dreams…..they are such a playground of our imagination, sometimes a place to work out the day’s trials in metaphorical ways…….. and sometimes just plain weird!  As I woke this morning I wished I was a part of culture that could interpret dreams because I think my dream may have been significant. Is the Holy still speaking to us in dreams, I wonder?  Have you ever had a dream that guided you in some special way?

What are your dreams, both day dreams and night dreams, telling you these days? Are you receiving affirmations or warnings? Is Spirit speaking to you through your dreams if you listen deeply?

I will continue on my journey today….watching and waiting  for experiences that might bring clarity to what my inner life might be telling me while I sleep.

"Then God came down in a pillar of cloud, and stood at the entrance of the tent and called Aaron and Miriam; and they both came forward. And God said, "Hear my words: When there are prophets among you, I make myself known to them in visions; I speak to them in dreams." Numbers 12:5-6

Last weekend I attended a worship service that had its basis in Celtic spirituality. The music was wonderful…bagpipes, harp and drums….. and the poetry of the words filled me to overflowing. One line in particular from a song has stuck with me: "On the road we live as trav’llers, as pilgrims, as guests of the world." The words were adapted from the words of St. Columbanus, 543-615 A.D. a mystic of the Celtic tradition.

When was the last time you thought of yourself as " a guest of the world"? Isn’t it a lovely though? "Hello, my name is _________ and I am a guest of the world. " What would it be like to have that as an introduction? Instead of introducing myself as a wife, mother, minister, woman, sister, whatever…..say instead, and I would imagine with a certain bit of feeling, " Hello, I am a guest of the world. It is a pleasure to meet you." Perhaps, the words even need a bow of sorts.

Just saying those words makes me feel such gratitude to this world that has welcomed me. Saying them makes me want to sit up straighter, feel proud of being invited to this party, at this time, with all of these beautiful people,with such elaborate surroundings. Think of the differences in our behavior if we thought of ourselves as guests instead of residents or even citizens of the world. I think we might be more inclined to use our best manners, walk more kindly, dress ourselves up for being hosted by this amazing planet, this generous Earth.

Today is an especially exquisite day…fall colors beginning to emerge, sun shining brightly, geese flying overhead moving from this party to another, children playing with abandon outside. The gardens know that soon the clock will strike and that their time as guests will be over. And so it is with each of us.

And so today, at this moment in time, I pray that you are pleased that you’ve been issued an invitation, , that you have accepted with grace, that you feel as blessed as I do to be " a guest of the world."

"Finally, beloved, whatever is true, whatever is honorable, whatever is just, whatever is pure, whatever is pleasing, whatever is commendable, if there is any excellence and if there is anything worthy of praise, think about these things. Keep on doing the things that you have learned and received and heard and seen in me, and the God of peace will be with you."  Philippians 4:8-9

September 11,2001…just saying the date holds an ominous weight. It is one of those days that I can remember so clearly…where I was sitting, what I was doing, when everything seemed to fall apart. It is a day that people speak about in so many ways. Today, all over the country there will be memorials, worship services, moments of silence, the names of those who died will be read. Our prayers, today, will be different than other days just as they have been for six years.

Six years. Where has the time gone? Many questions fill my head about that day that has led to this day. Things like….what have we learned? Are we a better people today because of having lived through this experience? Are we a people more intent on peace, on understanding, on tolerance because of that day? Of course, the answers vary from person to person, from city to city, from country to country, from government to government.

But as people of faith…those who claim relationship with the Divine….are we a more loving, more open, more peace-seeking people?  Do we seek, as the writer of Philippians urges, to put our energy toward what is true, honorable, just, pure, pleasing, and commendable?

I recognize that this day and the memory of what happened six years ago is filled with unspeakable complexities. I do remember how it was impossible to get books from the library about Islam. Everyone, faithful and not, wanted to learn about this religion that was foreign to many of us. While recognizing that fanaticism and faith are not the same, schools and churches clamored to get speakers from the Muslim tradition to help us understand the ordinary and the extreme. And it can be said that many wonderful relationships, both individual and communal, were born from that seeking. Our understanding grew….and so did we.

How to pay homage today, that is my question, my prayer. How to remember the lives of those lost, the innocence we all lost, those who live on and are forever changed, those who were courageous beyond belief……"Keep on doing the things that you have learned and received and heard and seen….and the God of peace will be with you." Today, I’ll try to do just that…..and pray that the God of peace will be with us all.

"I, who live by words, am wordless when I try my words in prayer. All language turns to silence. Prayer will take my words and then reveal their emptiness. The stilled voice learns to hold its peace, to listen with the heart to silence that is joy, is adoration. The self is shattered, all words torn apart in this strange patterned time of contemplation that, in time, breaks time, breaks words, breaks me. And then, in silence, leaves me healed and mended. I leave, returned to language, for I see through words, even when all words are ended. I, who live by words, am wordless when I turn me to the Word to pray. Amen"  from Word by Madeleine L’Engle

As someone who also lives by words, or at least pursues them, I was saddened by the death this past week of Madeleine L’Engle. Her words have inspired me, challenged me, and given me great joy. From her poetry to her early novels about young actors making a life in New York City, I have identified with her images of the Holy, her raw, earthy way of speaking of the Divine. I have great memories of reading
A Wrinkle In Time to elementary students who begged for just one more chapter so they could find out what happens to Charles Wallace, a central character caught in time travel based on the concept of quantum physics.Then there was the account of her life as a caretaker for her husband Hugh, whom she adored, as he struggled with the battle he lost to cancer. I commend them all to you.

I don’t know about you but I am always searching for a writer who can make my own thoughts clearer to me. It is a rare find….to read in print or hear spoken the words that make clear a thought or feeling that seems to float at the edge of our experience, not yet formed but spinning wildly trying to be born. But when it happens and we awake to the "ah-hah!’ of our own understanding of something, it feels like a mysterious gift from beyond. That was often my experience when I read Madeleine L’Engle. Her words cut through my own fledgling sounds and helped me come to a greater understanding, form words of meaning.

It was her words that my husband and I included on the birth announcement for our second son, born December 8th, during Advent. "This is the irrational season, when love bloom bright and wild. Had Mary been filled with reason, there’d been no room for the child."

The act of bringing life into the world is not the stuff of rationality, or reason, or common sense. Bringing a child into the world takes courage and hope and love…..all residents of the irrational world. And yet, aren’t each of us thankful for such irrationality? I was thankful to L’Engle who shaped the words meant to describe Mary’s irrational act that also spoke to that of all humanity.

Madeleine L’Engle, today, I honor your memory and all the beauty and richness you brought to the printed page. Thank you for giving words to those deep places that needed the inspiration of your spirit to find their way into the world.