“And no, before you ask, there’s no saving of a People involved in this story. There’s no dramatic call. I AM WHO I AM simply spoke to me in the raw, authentic place of my woundedness and simply asked me to be who I am.”
“I think the moon should be part of my Lenten meditations. I have loved it since I was a child, and I still love it. I am grateful to God for providing this time of rest and relative peace, with a glowing reminder of God’s eternal presence, even in the dark, whether physical darkness or an internal one.”
“My fellow Episcopalians, our churches have beautiful facades that proclaims all people are welcome to come and worship inside, regardless of who they may be. Yet, so many people enter our doors, believing that to be true, only to learn, from things that are said to them, the way certain comments are phrased, that they’re not truly able to bring their whole selves to worship in this congregation.”
“The Parable of the Barren Fig Tree which we will hear this coming Sunday reminds us of the certainty of that abiding patience and protection that is an intrinsic part of God’s nature. While others might see our failures, pettiness, and flaws, God sees our potential.”
Resurrection is coming. It is important and sometimes difficult to hold on to that hope; yet resurrection that glosses over the reality of death, the finitude of death, that last piece of the solidarity of the Incarnation reins in the hope that might otherwise extend even to the rubble of a hospital, or the shores of a storm-churned beach, or the shut-off third rail of a subway system.
“this blessing joins you in the dark
to remind you that you are not alone
this blessing clings to you
loves you
believes in you
and calls you forward”
“I take a deep breath trying to remember where I was a year ago – who I was a year ago. Inside, I see the orange card with my handwriting: to stop fighting rest and embrace its renewing qualities.”
“Do we fall into anxiety and anger, hoarding, pushing others away, and trying for a security that is ephemeral? Or do we respond with compassion, as Jesus would have us do, lamenting the entrenched evil that threatens the cities we love? (O, Moscow, how I long to gather you. . .) And reaching out in compassion to those who are hurting?”
We’re only in the first full week of Lent, but I’m already wondering when the downward rush will end and how it will all turn out. I know I’m not the only one praying for peace and safety and for a sign that the bottom of the hill will not be a total crash. Other things are going on in the world we need to keep in our awareness, and people around us who have needs we can supply or bring to the attention of those who can help if we are unable.
