I did go out for a quick walk, but aside from that, it was an indoor day. (A cookie baking day. I can't complain.) Nonetheless, I came across this poem that I had stored up for just such a day, and now I will share it with you.
Dust of Snow
I did go out for a quick walk, but aside from that, it was an indoor day. (A cookie baking day. I can't complain.) Nonetheless, I came across this poem that I had stored up for just such a day, and now I will share it with you.
Dust of Snow
For the Beauty of the Earth --
"One is constantly reminded of the lavishness and fertility of nature..." - John Muir
Thanks to Fran for hosting our Spiritual Thursday group today, and for providing the prompt. She asks us to write about what is holy.
I believe we all experience glimpses of holiness. I have written about one holy moment for me, you can find it if you click here.
Frederick Buechner writes about a holy moment:
Two apple branches struck against each other with the limber clack of wood on wood. That was all -- a tick-tock rattle of branches -- but then a fierce lurch of excitement at what was only daybreak, only the smell of summer coming, only starting back again for home, but oh Jesus, he thought, with a great lump in his throat and a crazy grin, it was an agony of gladness and beauty falling wild and soft like rain. Just clack-clack, but praise him, he thought. Praise him.
Perhaps holy moments, like angels, are all around us, if only we could see them. Or perhaps they come just a few times in a lifetime. In any case, they give us a glimpse into another life, a deeper connection. I have felt this "agony of gladness" upon holding a newborn, at the innocence in a child's face, walking in the woods with my husband, while singing in choir, to name a few.
One of my strongest experiences was during a guided prayer. I was guided to a dry place, and a well, and then silence. In the silence Jesus approached me and put his hand on my shoulder and just stood next to me. I felt a deep sense of connection, of understanding. An agony of peace. Like a brother, he knew me. He accepted me. He stood with me. Praise him.
If we weren't blind as bats, we might see that life itself is sacramental.
- Frederick Buechner in Wishful Thinking
Autumn is my favorite time of year. The scorching sun settles down, each day becomes a little easier, and the crisp nights are refreshing. So here, without further ado, is some autumn joy for you!
The poem below came to me via The Writer's Almanac. Barbara Crooker is new to me, but I will surely be looking for more of her poetry.
I can't pass October without celebrating pumpkins. I find them is so compelling.
Oh, that Jack-O!
Autumn is beautiful in New Jersey. The colors are still peaking (peeking) and each day I'm thankful for this gorgeous splash of color.
Don't miss the Poetry Friday gathering, this week hosted by Jone Rush MacCulloch. Click the blue link to find more poetry posts: Jone Thanks for hosting, Jone!
It's almost Halloween, and spooky spiders come to mind.
I'm somewhat fascinated with spiders and their webs, and I wish I could make something so beautiful overnight. Just look at these webs.
Thanks to Maureen Ingram for joining our group and hosting this month's gathering of the Spiritual Journey, and for providing the topic of Community as our focus for the month. You can find her post and the rest of the group here.
I'm currently reading and learning from Braiding Sweetgrass, which is full of wisdom from indigenous tribes, written by Robin Wall Kimmerer. She shares a Thanksgiving Address, a traditional way to begin meetings in the Onondaga Nation. This particular address has been widely shared, and was given by John Stokes and Kanawahientun in 1993:
Today we have gathered and when we look upon the faces around us, we see that the cycles of life continue. We have been given the duty to live in balance and harmony with each other and all living things. So now let us bring our minds together as one as we give greetings and thanks to each other as People. Now our minds are one.
I'm trying to let this address sink in, with its emphasis on balance and harmony. Notice that he speaks not of hopes or dreams, but the duty to live in balance and harmony. Likewise, not only within the human community, but also balance and harmony with all living things. In a few words, John Stokes outlines huge challenges. Lifelong challenges. Still... I believe that we all yearn for balance and harmony. To me these two ideals embody community, and imply a possibility that often seems insurmountable. And yet... and yet I agree that it is our duty to work toward them. I especially admire John Stokes' sense of certainty in the final phrase that affirms community: Now our minds are one.
Choir has been a particular source of community for me. We gather and work hard with the goals of balance and harmony. I often come back to music as a balm. And so, today I will leave you with music.
In clearing out extraneous documents from my computer, I came upon this ode written by my grandson when he was 12. It warmed my heart, not to mention the heart of my husband who bakes it. Since I'm very proud of both of them, I knew I wanted to share. This cake is a speciality in our house, made from an old Danish recipe entitled Sand Cake:
Sand Cake (Sandkage) from Danish Home Baking by Karen Berg
Baker's Notes: Not very sweet, but good with coffee. I used a tube pan, it fills about 1/3 and does not raise much at all, not that I expected it to.
This cake can be made gluten free by substituting casava flour mixed 1 to 1 with gluten free oat flour. The photo below is of the gluten free. The wheat version has a finer crumb.