Many thanks to Carol Varsalona for hosting today, and for offering the prompt of "Blossoming on the Spiritual Journey." Let's all keep Carol in our hearts as she has had a significant loss. She shared this poignant quote: "A world of grief and pain, flowers bloom—even then." --Kobayashi Issa
Following her prompt of blossoming, here are some spring photos from New Jersey:
I posted the following poem when I first started my blog, back in 2019, and today I decided to share it again. This is by John Neihardt, a Nebraska poet. I heard him recite this poem when he visited the college I attended way back in the day. The poem is so effusive, and when I see spring in New Jersey I see that same effusiveness in nature. It is titled "April Theology" but -- I hope you will agree that it works for May.
April Theology
O to be breathing and hearing and feeling and seeing!
O the ineffably glorious privilege of being!
All of the World’s lovely girlhood, unfleshed and made spirit,
Broods out in the sunlight this morning — I see it, I hear it!
So read me no text, O my Brothers, and preach me no creeds;
I am busy beholding the glory of God in His deeds!
Happy New Year! I hope 2025 will be a good one for you.
Thanks to Margaret Simon for organizing the Spiritual Journey Thursday group, and especially for this new and beautiful image. Find here blog HERE.
It's time to figure out my OLW (One Little Word) which will guide my posts throughout the year. I had a lot of fun with SONG as my OLW last year. This year I'm choosing STILL as my word.
I'm a Martha kind of person. I tend to keep myself busy. I like my activities: keeping my home, reading, singing in choir, gardening, writing, teaching, praying. As times goes on, however, I realize limits of energy and time. I'm learning to appreciate still times.
Some years ago I had this little quote on my refrigerator.
God is the still point
at the center
utterly at home
God lives in us forever.
- Julian of Norwich
Winter is a good season to be still. It can offer quiet time, a slowing of our crazy busy lives. This is a good time to weigh the benefits of stillness. To listen for the still small voice.
from a 2016 calendar by Wendy Bentley
I hope to hear from you in the days ahead. Let me know if you find solace in stillness.
Here is a beautiful hymn, one of my father's favorites, to the tune of Finlandia by Sibelius.
Best wishes for a safe, healthy, and restful January.
Welcome to the November edition of SJT : Spiritual Journey Thursday. This group generally posts on the first Thursday of the month. Thanks to Linda Mitchell for hosting this month and for providing the prompt: Your World, My world, Our World. You can find her post and the posts of others here.
For those of you who have been following me, I have a new computer now, but I'm still figuring out all the ins and outs. It's a good thing, I'm just not at a comfort level yet. Nonetheless, thanks to my husband who has provided technical support.
In commemoration of the upcoming 250th anniversary of our nation, I've been in a little discussion group based on James Michener's Centennial. I finished the book today, all 909 pages, and I am rightfully awed as Michener's ability to present such an amazing scope of history and such momentous insights and questions. Michener's stories suggest that we face the same questions over and over again:
How do we respect our history and still honestly face our failures?
How do we heal our divisions?
How do we embrace progress while giving due respect to our land?
I come away from this book with a renewed sense of respect and love for the history and beauty of our land. And tonight, as we reveal the votes... how will we go forward?
I pray for peace, truth, and respect. I pray that we will respond with grace.
My One Little Word this year is song. Here are a couple of songs of encouragement:
Give Me Oil in My Lamp
Keep Your Lamps Trimmed and Burning
May we all know God's peace, and may we share it with those around us.
Welcome to another Spiritual Journey post. This month is hosted by Carol Varsalona, who challenged us to Pause to Reflect and consider the worth and meaning of Pausing in our lives. Find Carol's entry and links to others in the group HERE> Thank you, Carol!
This is a quiet time for me. I have a month's pause from several of my usual activities, and I have been resting, reading, gardening and visiting family and friends. I'm grateful for this time. Pausing allows me to take in more of the wonder and beauty that the world offers. So often our eyes are blinded by our own thoughts, plans, and expectations. We forget to pause and really take it all in.
The other day my husband went out to start sprinklers on our lawn. When he came in we exchanged a few words and I barely glanced at him. When I looked more carefully, I noticed he had water splotched all over his shirt. I had completely missed it at first and I realized I had not paused to focus. We had a little laugh over his "shower," a bit of fun I would have missed had I not paused.
How often do we pause to look a person in the eye, read their expressions, appreciate their beauty? How often do we pause to allow the world to surprise us?
I was reminded of Snow Geese by Mary Oliver, which seems an excellent example of pausing and reflecting. Here are some quotes from it:
Snow Geese
by Mary Oliver
...
One fall day I heard above me, and above the sting of the wind, a sound I did not know, and my look shot upward; it was a flock of snow geese, winging it faster than the ones we usually see, and, being the color of snow, catching the sun so they were, in part at least, golden. I held my breath as we do sometimes to stop time when something wonderful has touched us
...
The geese flew on, I have never seen them again. Maybe I will, someday, somewhere. Maybe I won't. It doesn't matter. What matters is that, when I saw them, I saw them as through the veil, secretly, joyfully, clearly.
Wouldn't it be wonderful if we had the inclination and opportunity to pause and to reflect, to enjoy, to wonder and to be dazzled? How much more renewed and delighted we might be. How much more joyfully and clearly we might see the world. I hope you will be so blessed.
A notice: Between software updates and my old computer, I can't add pictures to my blog today. I'm disappointed and I apologize for the lack of color and interest. I hope to solve this issue!
Welcome to a belated post in the Thursday Spiritual Journey Group. Ruth Hersey is hosting, and has provided the prompt "I don't know." Where will it lead?
I've had a most remarkable week.
I have been leading the craft section of our church's Vacation Bible School. We had about 60 children, ages 4yrs to 6th grade. Each day they came through our craft room in age groupings, and we provided craft activities for 25 minutes. Five groups each morning. Move, move, move!
Early in the week we painted with forks to make puffer fish, folded origami angel fish, made whales and decorated whale flukes. We provided a verse or message with most crafts, affirming that each is a "child of God." Midweek we made craft stick anchors and talked about the cross at the top. "We have this hope as an anchor."
my sample... we learned that one big fish was challenge enough!
We cut pool noodles and set up an assembly line to make a little floating boat, crewed by a craft stick person and bearing a flag with the fisherman's prayer. Who doesn't love a floating craft? Friday we shared contagious giggles over our sharks... creative license led to baby vampire sharks, girl sharks with hair and hair bows, cross-eyed sharks, etc. We loved the number of legs on our metallic orange cupcake- liner crabs. Our message read "God is a friend you can trust" and we quietly added "even when you're crabby."
I've had an amazing, large and dedicated group of helpers. It has turned out to be such a wonderful week. Hectic? Yes. Energy draining? Yes. Rewarding? Yes.
I went into this week with excitement and trepidation. I knew I would love the kids, and I love providing crafts, but could we put it all together and make it work? We worked hard, and we did. And we've all been astounded at the blessings of faith and creativity in these children.
my puffer fish sample
I lost sleep trying to stay ahead of our needs. It has been a challenge to keep my thoughts straight with the schedule, the number of kids in each group, the change of craft as we cycle from younger to older. It's been a mad rush of activity for this grandma.
I don't know how to measure my love and appreciation for my helpers. I've made new friends and deepened relationships over the craziness and the creativity and the earnestness of each child. I feel so blessed to be part of this team.
We made it through Friday, but only by God's grace. I feel that we gave our best, and I'm pleased. It seems somehow miraculous that through our simple work with markers and glue sticks, God stepped in and fed our hearts.
I can't leave without a song to reflect my mood, so... here you go... I love these things...
I don't know if I'll have the energy to do this again, and I don't know how I can fully express my feelings about it. I only know I have been blessed beyond measure.
I wish you an uplifting and praiseworthy time this summer also. Feel free to share in the comments. You can find more thoughts on this theme at Ruth's blog... click HERE. Thanks for hosting and for this interesting prompt, Ruth!
Welcome to Spiritual Journey Thursday. Here you will find a group of authors and poets who write monthly about spiritual matters. You are welcome to write your own response and join in. I'm hosting today so you will find links to other posts in today's comments. Our prompt is about looking into the past for something that has shaped or inspired our current spiritual practice or outlook.
When I was a child, my family attended a lovely little church. Every Sunday we sang a call-and-response liturgy which became very natural to me and which included these words from Psalm 51:
Create in me a clean heart, O God
and renew a right spirit within me
cast me not away from thy presence
and take not thy Holy Spirit from me.
Restore unto me
the joy of thy salvation
and uphold me with thy free spirit.
These words are inscribed on my heart and in my head. They come to me unbidden, and have become some of my favorite verses. My current church does not practice a musical liturgy, and I sometimes miss it. For me, there is value in the repetition of these words. Over time they have grown in meaning as they were repeated and reconsidered. I find that now, in my grandmother years, the music and words come to me as both a comfort and a strength.
Words and music hold immense power. They move us to action or bring us to tears. I've put some of my favorite prayers, scripture and quotes on my walls and over my desk. I like being surrounded with words that lift me up and orient me spiritually.
I hope you have found, or will find, words/songs/psalms that take on deep meaning, that you can fall back on as touchstones. I hope they bring you strength, joy, courage and peace.
Greetings! My garden has called me and I've already planted lettuce, salad turnips and sugar snap pea pods. All have germinated, but not at well as I would like, so yesterday I put in a few more seeds.
Growing a garden is a new experience every year. Some plants flourish, some are eaten by rabbits. Some perennials thrive, some are flooded out. It's always a challenge, and always carries some reward.
Two plants I'm pleased with just now are below. The pulmonaria at top, also called lungwort, pleases me every spring with its beautiful spotted leaves and purple flowers. This year I wrote a praise poem about it.
This poem is a form called kwansaba. It is a praise poem with 7 lines, 7 words per line, and 7 or fewer letters per word. The 7 letters per word was tricky and I had to adopt new words, or split words, as I did the word "lungwort."
The photo below is of my peperomia, which originally was given to me by my future husband a few months before we were married. It has had ups and downs over these 52 years, but this year it is glorious and I love it!
Gardening teaches patience and perseverance. It reminds me that life can be messy, and it forces me to get down on my knees. As I pull weeds and water my plants, I witness many blessings of the earth, and I marvel at the power of nature and the webs of interconnection. Gardening promotes respect for the earth, the importance of work and gratitude for each edible morsel. It helps me to appreciate beauty and accept its ephemerality. Each plant has its own family, habit of growth, weaknesses, and needs for flourishing. Keeping track of the names of plants both challenges and fascinates me. Gardens are full of surprises. Two years ago a tiny deep blue liatris showed up under my peony! I have put liatris in pots in the past, but hadn't seen one in some years. What a joy! Gardens and growing things are continual blessings, and upon consideration, I believe lessons from the garden are endless.
The kiss of the sun for pardon,
The song of the birds for mirth,
One is nearer God's heart in a garden,
Than anywhere else on earth.
These words are from the poem "God's Garden" by Dorothy Frances Gurney, born in 1858.
I can't leave without a song or two, since SONG is my OLW for 2024. Here's a cute one I just found, perfect for a little one.
And here's one I learned years ago. There are many videos of this song, but I chose Pete Seeger's because his words are a little different, like a personal prayer.
Thanks to Jone Rush MacCulloch for the prompt this month, and for hosting the Spiritual Journey Thursday group. Find Jone and links to others in the group HERE.
Welcome to my meanderings for Spiritual Journey Thursday. Ramona is hosting today and she offered the prompt of "gathering goodness." Thank you, Ramona!
This month offers a number of reasons to gather goodness. Spring officially arrives this month, and with it all the hope and labor of new life. And Easter arrives this month, a celebration of life and redemption. My OLW for the year is "song," so I am pleased to share with you this beautiful Redemption Song as arranged and played by the Kanneh-Masons. I always enjoy this family, and their musical offerings are surely good things to gather in your basket.
I've been watching the live video of an eagle's nest, which hatched two fluffy chicks this past week or two. You can celebrate the new chicks by clicking HERE. In a few short months these sweet little puffballs will turn into fledgling eagles. The transformation is miraculous and surely a good thing.
Frederich Buechner wrote: When God created the creation, God made something where before there had been nothing, and as the author of the book of Job puts it, "the morning stars sang together, and all the sons of God shouted for joy" (38:7) at the sheer and shimmering novelty of the thing. (from Wishful Thinking)
Buechner's description, his "sheer and shimmering" is a delight to me. I hope I never forget that the world awakes new every morning, always ready to surprise and delight us. I hear mourning doves regularly now, as well as a chorus of various twitterings, and I see robins and blue jays, and the geese honking as they fly over. Yesterday I walked to the river and saw several mallards and a merganser winging its way up the river. Every bush seemed to sprout buds overnight. I can almost hear the world waking up, ready to grow and thrive again.
This beautiful song by John Rutter, sung by a wonderful young chorister, celebrates the goodness of the world. All Things Bright and Beautiful. Enjoy:
I wish you a sheer and shimmering sense of wonder as spring comes into full bloom. In the meantime, check out the offerings by Ramona and other SJT participants. Click HERE.
It's early January and our Spiritual Journey group has the habit of choosing One Little Word (OLW) as a guide for the year. Choosing the word can be an arduous journey in itself. I notice that several of us have considered a particular word, decided to look further, but ended up coming back to the first word. I'm in that camp this year.
I've been waking from sleep with songs in my head. A dream may be vividly playing in color, random and surprising, but usually behind it is a song. It may be a song I've most recently sung in choir, but sometimes it's a song from childhood, a song I haven't heard in years. It doesn't matter where they come from or how much of the tune I remember, it's playing back there in my subconscious. How wonderful that we have this gift of song, given to so few creatures on earth.
My OLW for 2024 will be SONG. Songs express a multitude of emotions, rhythms, attitudes, voices, and volumes. I will follow them through the year.
Once upon a time, when women were birds,
there was the simple understanding that
to sing at dawn and to sing at dusk
was to heal the world through joy.
The birds still remember
what we have forgotten,
that the world is meant to be
celebrated.
- Terry Tempest Williams
The above image and verse speak to me strongly. Certainly our world can use healing through joy. Certainly we need reminding. The poem also embraces a myth mentioned in To the Bright Edge of the World by Eowyn Ivey, in which native Alaskan women can change into birds. I highly recommend this book if you have not read it.
My best wishes to all of you for 2024. May you find a song in your heart and a dance in your step.
My thanks to Margaret Simon for supplying us with the beautiful new logo found at the top of this post, and for organizing this group and hosting us this month.
Welcome to another Spiritual Journey Thursday, a group that gathers monthly to share insights into our spiritual lives. Thanks to Jone Rush MacCulloch for hosting this month, and for offering these prompts:
How do you honor/embrace this time of darkness?
Where do you find the points of light in your life?
In many ways, darkness is my friend. I have been avoiding direct sunlight for a number of years, and I've come to value the night for its quiet shroud of mystery and beauty. I'm relieved at the summer solstice, when days begin to grow shorter. The hardest time of the year for me is late spring and summer. It's become a joke that I'm always in these clunky dark glasses, so in a moment of solidarity my grands and I made this photo. It always makes me smile.
Recently we rented a house on a quiet lake in the Adirondacks. The first night it rained, but the next two nights were beautiful: the clear deep blue allowed me to see the Milky Way. Have you seen it? What overwhelming beauty and depth! Its great clusters of stars are both inspiring and humbling. Who am I in comparison? I think we lose this perspective under city lights. I was so drawn to the dark world that I slept on a couch on the screen porch, looking at the stars and listening to loons and owls. Temperatures dipped into the 40s, but still it felt glorious. Restorative.
It's ironic that the dark allows us to see more stars, and it also points to another truth. We need a time of shadow or darkness in order to appreciate and filter the barrage of the day's events. We need to mull, to let our minds go dark and see what surfaces. Times of dark can facilitate that.
In Genesis there are two days of creation dedicated to appointing and separating the dark and the light. Two days! And God saw that it was good. Night is provided for rest, prayer, mulling and creating.
Before the onset of industry and electricity, the darker seasons offered extended time to rest and reflect. Like a seed in the earth, these times were good for germination. At night people gathered around a fire as they mended nets, laughed, hugged and told stories.
Nighttime is still story time, still the weaver of dreams. Many of our favorites feature the night, all the way from Good Night Moon and Owl Babies to Little House in the Big Woods and Something Wicked This Way Comes, stories help us address the challenge and fear of darkness and find a way to endure it.
Professor A. Roger Ekirch wrote At Day's Close: Night in Times Past, which I've started but not finished. One interesting claim is that the "oldest occupation" is not prostitution, as we've often been told, but instead is night watchman. We have to admit that night demands precautions and can be a trial for many of us. I'm not immune.
Whether you light a candle in the dark or go out to look at the moon, I hope you will find some way to be comfortable in the darkness. Maybe we should practice night vision, searching for night's beauty. If we allow our eyes to adjust and our spirits to be willing, who knows what we will find?
Finally, no matter our attitude, some nights can seem too long. Remember that Christ declared, "I am Light of the World." Remember the Gospel of John reassures us with this powerful statement:
John 1:5 The light shined in the darkness and the darkness did not overcome it.
Thanks to Fran Haley for hosting this month, and for providing the theme of Renewal for our consideration. Find her post and links to others HERE.
We had our first hard frost last night, and this morning every twig and blade of grass is dressed in diamonds. In the realm of renewal, there is a cycle. This is the time of last harvest, a time to pull out the day lilies that didn't bloom and that I never liked, dig in some good compost, and let the garden rest over the winter. A fallow time.
I love fall: the color change, the cooler days and brisk breezes. And this week, once again, the smell of candle flame on pumpkin flesh. I do love it. But over time, seasons offer new perspectives. We change, and our expectations change with them. I don't jump into piles of leaves anymore. I gave that up years ago. I do like raking leaves: fresh air, crisp leaves crunching underfoot and the rake scritching music in my ears. Raking, I tell myself, is good exercise.
Still, as I raked yesterday, I began to think a new thought. Raking is beginning to hurt my arthritic hands. Do I really need to do it? Maybe I could get someone to do it for me? Maybe I could give up my quiet protest against leaf blowers? Maybe I could be less stubborn?
Maybe I'm giving in, but I'm calling it renewal. Each day is a gift, and with it comes change and the challenge of dealing with that change. I will probably resist for another season, but sooner or later I will have to accept changes. When I do, I'll call it healthy renewal.
For me, renewal is an aspect of our beings that points to the image of God. Our bodies aren't static, instead they constantly renew themselves. We have the capacity to learn and create. The patterns of nature give us a blueprint of renewal. Each drink of water and slice of bread renews us. Songs and stories renew us. Wind in the face renews us.
I praise you because I am fearfully and wonderfully made... Psalm 139:14
Mary Oliver asks us, in the last line of her wonderful poem The Summer Day: Tell me, what is it you plan to do with your one wild and precious life?
I plan to keep writing, and reading, and trying to figure out what God is telling me. I plan to keep working on renewal.
Thanks to Ramona Behnke who prompted our group to write about gladness this month. In particular, how to gather gladness. You can find Ramona's post and links to others at her blog Pleasure From the Page.
I was looking through old photos when I was unexpectedly struck by the many blessings of my life. To be honest, some photos took my breath away. Why unexpectedly? In some I didn't remember the faces being so beautiful. Or I didn't remember the tenderness I had witnessed. I didn't remember some moments at all. I was unexpectedly overwhelmed.
I sometimes feel that my entire life has been one long journey out of fog. It seems that blessings have been staring me in the face, and oftentimes I've been blind to them. What was I thinking? Where was my focus?
Then I came across this poem by Chesterton. I think it speaks very well to my experience and this prompt.
Lo! I am come to autumn, When all the leaves are gold; Grey hairs and golden leaves cry out The year and I are old.
In youth I sought the prince of men, Captain in cosmic wars, Our Titan, even the weeds would show Defiant, to the stars.
But now a great thing in the street Seems any human nod, Where shift in strange democracy The million masks of God.
In youth I sought the golden flower Hidden in wood or wold, But I am come to autumn, When all the leaves are gold.
- G.K.Chesterton
Marlene Figge wrote about this poem: This unexpected discovery that he (Chesterton) is surrounded by an abundance of what he seeks is a metaphor for his encounter with grace. You can read her entire article HERE.
One way to gather gladness is to look back at photos. They can surprise you and bless you.
Also, gather gladness as you read! Many blessings...many tidings of comfort and joy... can be gathered from scripture. 1 Corinthians 13:12 promises:
12 For now we see only a reflection, as in a mirror, but then we will see face to face. Now I know only in part; then I will know fully, even as I have been fully known.
I wish you an autumn full of gatherings and gladness.
