I was recently in western Michigan at a retreat, and I spent time with Lake Michigan—a living being, a new and subtle friend. The sun on the water, the rocks, the rain, the waves that were loud one day and quiet the next. A lake that curls like the ocean, yet smells like plain water. During the break one afternoon I swam, and it was a highlight of my trip. Even far from shore, the water was shallow enough that I could stand, waist deep, on ripples of soft sand. I had fun striding around out there, watching the clouds pass across the sun, watching the moods swing across the water’s surface as the bright light came and went. And then I noticed that we were alone, the lake and I. It was a private meeting, and so I started to sing. I sang Bruce Cockburn’s All the Diamonds, in its […]
Read More
Ps. 124:7b …the snare has been broken, and we have escaped. I imagine that when snared animals are set free, if their wounds are not mortal, they bolt into the forest as fast as they can go. Hurt, but free. Once in a while these injured creatures (the ones inside of me, anyway) come shyly out of the forest, hoping to be tended and helped. More food, more light and air, more clean water. Snare wounds heal with time. Then the creatures bolt away again. Every time I see them, they are more whole, more joyful. But part of the healing is the experience of old feelings that never had a chance to be felt. Each visit hurts. And when they go, they always leave a day or two of sadness behind them, like a wake. It helps to know that the next time I see them, they will be […]
Read More
A long story came into my head, and for a year I wrote it down. And then I stopped. My perfectionism had tied me on a short leash, and I finally went around the pole enough times that the slack was gone. What unwound me was a writing instructor whose message is “just keep writing.” You don’t have to write the story in order—just write the quilt square that comes to you today, and assemble the pieces of the quilt later. Write. Write! In other words, to actually complete a first draft of my novel, I will have to…write. I went for a walk to think about one of my storylines, and I found a place away from people so I could dictate a scene into my voicemail. Transcribing it later, I heard birds chirping and wind whooshing past the phone. I also used my phone to take a few photos. What I like […]
Read More
I received a few comments from people taking me seriously, so just to make my intentions crystal clear, I’ll tell you that the following post is meant to be ironic. I guess I need to work on my humor skillz…! Exodus 20:10 Thou shalt not do any work. Who would say that to you? Maybe a boss, if she was firing you. Maybe someone who didn’t like how you did things and wanted you to stop helping and get out of the way. “Thou shalt not do any work” is bad news. It’s the opposite of this comforting, familiar message: Thou shalt be busy at all times. If I am busy, it must mean I’m happy. If I am busy, I’m necessary. If I am busy, I feel okay. So I should stay busy. My schedule should stay busy with this and that. My mind should stay busy with a flow […]
Read More
Psalm 8:3 (Message) I look up at your macro-skies, dark and enormous, your handmade sky-jewelry, Moon and stars mounted in their settings. The Genesis creation stories put an order to things: first this, then that. Or no. Hold on. First that, then this. We’re told two stories, and they contradict. I don’t mind, though. The contradictions help me to shift my gaze from the literal to the poetic. And with this softer gaze, I notice the One who came into being first in both stories. The Creator preexisted the whole lot of us. The Creator is the lead actor, the heroine, the protagonist, in our creation stories. And our protagonist’s feats are astonishing! “When I consider your heavens, the work of your fingers….” (Ps. 8:3 TNIV). Well…what does happen when we consider it? When we consider God’s sky-jewelry, stars and galaxies, moons and suns, all made by hand, the work […]
Read More
John 20:19-20 On the evening of that day, when the disciples were together with the doors locked for fear of the Jewish leaders, Jesus came and stood among them…. Here’s how I imagine it. Mary, Peter, and John are telling their stories from the morning, piecing it together—electrified, exuberant. But some in the room are grieving, depressed, and angry. Only Mary has seen you alive. Many don’t believe her. The other Mary is cooking dinner, filling the house with the smell of roasting meat. James is adding wood to the fire. It’s loud. Another woman chops vegetables on the big wooden table and bangs pots around. People talk and argue about the events of the last three days. What events, besides your death? Some say tombs have broken open and dead people are abroad in Jerusalem. Large earthquakes + 3-hour total eclipse of the sun. Most of your friends in […]
Read More
I slept and dreamt that life was joy. I awoke and saw that life was service. I acted and behold, service was joy. Tagore
Read More
John 17:3 Now this is eternal life: that they know you, the only true God…. Eternal life starts before we die, and eternal life is to know something, something that changes the way we live. We had a series of powerful storms here in the Bay Area this winter. The rain felt endless, but during a break in it I went for a hike and saw this tree. It had fallen, and a ranger had cut it with a chainsaw and moved the pieces out of the way, off the path. I was struck by the beauty of what was revealed. Like each of us, this Eucalyptus was dying even before the storm brought it down. The storm hit, the tree fell, and the tree was broken open, showing its truth—a sight we wouldn’t have seen if the tree had stayed upright, looking fine. Back before Easter, a prayer for […]
Read More
What can sustain us through the Winter?
Read More
Psalm 63:6 On my bed I remember you— I think of you through the watches of the night. I have a medical test coming up, and last night I lay awake spinning out possibilities. I’m not God, I’m not a doctor, and I don’t possess the facts. Even so, I want to believe I can figure it out. So on my bed I remembered me— I thought of me through the watches of the night. It didn’t feel good, though. Each fantastical, self-absorbed thought was delicious, but made my heart sicker. It reminded me of a time when I ate my way through several boxes of Screaming Yellow Zonkers. ← Not helpful. But as I was crunching away on my anxious thoughts, I remembered Psalm 63:6, and it sounded like healthy food. Antipanic medicine for my soul. I made an effort to do what the psalmist had done, to remember […]
Read More
