Skip to main content

Posts

Showing posts from April, 2017

when i was a baby bird, i chose to fly

even city birds know they can find food and a place to rest “ Look at the birds ” – it’s a phrase I often hear in my being. These words are a reminder for me to take my eyes off myself, to notice the attitude and conduct of my feathered friends. Have you noticed how birds never seem to have bad days? I do, but they don’t. I was thinking back on a walk with some of our grands last spring. The leaves hadn’t engulfed the trees quite yet. When things are bare, things are visible. One of our granddaughters noticed a bird nest in the bare branches. She said, very matter of factly, “When I’m a baby bird I can live there.” These are the simple words of an imaginative little girl. She went on to find different sized nests for her big brother and baby sister; each with the same explanation: “When brother is a baby bird he can live there. When sister is a baby bird she can live there.” when I’m a baby bird, will I choose to fly? it’s the nature of baby bird, y

hope, when desperation dissipates

station 12, the grotto, pdx It’s funny, and not in a comical way, how the writing prompts from two different sites are polar opposites of each other – jealousy and hope. One is full of causalities and destruction, the other resonates with possibility. All gets weighed in the balance we call life. Our scales tip back and forth until they settle; balanced, landing on one side or the other. Desperation dissipates in Your presence. We go from utter hopelessness to the apex of joy. Things eat away at our well-being . Jealousy revels in discontentment, driving us to more and different, instead of finding satisfaction and enjoyment with enough. Hope, on the other hand bursts through the darkness that tries to engulf. Hope is possibility. Hope is being ok with the now. Hope knows a quietness of soul. Hope differs from a wish, it’s substantial. Hope has weight and substance and an innate security. Hope inspires love and trust, a belief that is solidly rooted in the thoug

mindful in lent

follow the cross It’s Lent. It’s been Lent since March 1 st . I have my own private observations going on, and I just realized that next week is Holy Week. Like Advent, Lent holds a special place in my heart and spiritual rhythms. It’s the 40 days of preparation before Easter; a time to reflect, to cultivate gratitude, to focus on others and our relationship with the One who made it all possible, God. I have a daily prayer rhythm, dedicated quiet time in the morning, but Lent goes deeper. Last year I chose to add a practice to my routine instead of giving something up. For 6 weeks I tried to be very mindful of what was going on around me, in me, in people I know and don’t know, in my city and so on. My journal was filled with “mindful” phrases, sentences and paragraphs. Snippets from my journal: I’m mindful of … time, taking time, making time, capturing time, savoring time, enjoying time … being thrown around by my feelings. feelings are real, but they’re