Brown curling edges diagnosed
a death or disease supposed
but growing still with eastern light
reaching still in winter’s blight
buds reach high and hopeful
settled and composed
Edge
Promise year: 42
To have and to hold “will not last long”
too messy, too young they said
yet 42 promise years later,
we stand each whole
and yet one.
Lost often in transitions of life and being
Found tired and tried
But always true to the journey
One breath at a time of I Love You’s.
On the pin
Living daily on the edge, the point of change and even chaos requires an ability to perceive and interpret beginnings. Can you see something new happening from something old? Can you hear the key change and move to an altered beat?
To do this every day is not sustainable without love and hope. Love creates the net that will catch you when you fall from the pinnacle and hope promises to set you back upright and in a new place.
So on the head of a pin angels dance, moving to the beat of a love song — hopeful you will see them orchestrating your part in new spaces of beginning.
A Hallowed Eve
I do believe Life was created from a God Space of Love.
God’s Nature, though, and the force of its being spin a web of violence, disease and destruction.
Where is the Love in this?
The cycle of life runs head long into the wall of death…with all the hurt of endings. It is ugly. It is hard to bear.
Even the autumn harvest, the sweet energy of summer’s sun stored in the peeled skin of an apple and sacrificed in a muffin, seems mostly a trivialized and transient wonder.
We likewise are part of the sacrificed, caught in the momentum of life consciousness…we absorb, assimilate and recreate new spaces in life only to waste on sick beds and under head stones.
How do we honor the love of so many saints?
Where is God and Love on the back side of this cycle of life?
It’s the skeleton that seems the ruling image of this back side and I see them everywhere – an eternal Hallowed Eve.
And it does seem the bones are the last to go. They hold the marrow of life, stored safely inside. They give structure and form; they reconcile and hold our flesh like a photograph holds beauty.
So perhaps it’s there, in fossils…in our bones, that the flow of love still speaks.
I will sit therefore in midst of carnage and with holy courage in this space look with a glance of love…and remember tomorrow.
The Chains of Comfort
The annoying “Hate Your Family” passage in Luke 14:25-35 has plagued many a wanting Disciples. Luke presents this cutting view of discipleship as Jesus struggled with the “crowd” and circus potential of His ministry. These verses call out the comfort of a distant follower, challenging the integrity of their growth and intentions.
As I read the “hate” discussion I realize I, too, can only “follow” so far–chained to the comfort of affirmative readiness. I fall chained to my model of success. I fall chained to my model of worth. I fall chained to my model of strength and beauty. I fall to the model of all the family and social values that created my image of a competent and wanting-to-feel-loved-ME.
I don’t hate this model…I treasure it. The child in me needs that model as a guide to physical and psychologic comfort. I am in many ways paralyzed, bound to it— with only a vague wondering about the true FREEDOM of a discipleship journey.
Besides, hate is such a strong word. Really, must I hate? Can’t I just separate from the model peacefully, maybe dabbling in the comfort a bit when I hurt or am feeling inadequate? Can’t I rebel in it a bit to feel the pride of success in competition with over achieving friends? I promise to remind myself even weekly about the path of spiritual growth, maybe even “go deeper” in my faith with seminars and studies a couple of times a year. I just can’t let it all go. I am tied to the chains of my comfort.
Yet I continue to follow…..close enough to see the Cross.
The Lenten journey is the only road to freedom and the only path that truly embraces LIFE. Easter embraces Love beyond imagination and strong enough to break the chains of comfort. I will begin again there— with some hate of the chains. I will break free to Love.
honestlylolly.com 