Tag: prayer

Waking Up to the Bad News

Gun-related violence is leading cause of death for children ages 1-19 in the US. -CDC

Like the frog waking up to her imminent death in a pot of boiling water,
We’ve been acclimated to a new reality.
One shooting at a time.
One headline at a time.
One mass murder at a time.
Kyrie eleison.

Now we’re waking up to the bad news.
Our children, our teachers, our families are dying.
We can no longer keep our precious human resources
safe from this epidemic of violence.
Kyrie eleison.

Let us wake up and take action.
Put our bodies on the sidewalks.
Add our voices to the chants
calling for change.
Kyrie eleison.

Every Town for Gun Safety
Moms Demand Action

Creativity and the Divine

Happy World Art Day

This week someone asked me about how I experience the divine. I found myself talking about how I connect with the Holy One through creativity.

GIFS

My “retirement gig” of creating GIFs has been the biggest surprise to me. I was sick with COVID in February and got curious about how GIFs are made.

I’ve been drawing cartoons for fifteen years or so; the last ten years on the iPad using the “Paper” app. These little drawings have been moving (in my head) since I first created them. I delight in bringing them to life for you.

FYI – I have been approved as an official Creator on GIPHY.com and yesterday my account reached a total of 1 Million views. My GIFs are now showing up wherever you can search the GIF database (on your phone, on Facebook, etc. Try searching “Scottie,” “Scottie dogs,” and “Elephants.” Or search for special holidays such as “April Fool,” “Earth Day,” “Cinco de Mayo.”

Earth Day
Fabulous Friday
Cinco de Mayo
You Are Not Alone
Get Well Soon

SoulCollage®

I began creating SoulCollage® cards as a part of my Spiritual Direction training at Haden Institute. Collage was a new skill for me, so it took me a while to get comfortable with it.

When the pandemic started and my body, brain, and spirit were in crisis, I turned to this activity to help me connect with the Holy One. The activity of cutting and pasting grounded me, allowed my intuitive self to communicate.

Here are a few of my SoulCollage cards.

Untitled – 10/17/21
Grief – 8/8/21
Dave – 7/5/21
Early pandemic
Untitled – 5/13/21

A question for you: How do you experience the divine?

A Message from a Rabbit

Each morning and evening
The dog and I walk together
Up or down the road.
We startle a rabbit
Somewhere along the way.

The rabbit bounds away into the woods.
JJ wants to follow it.
I fumble for my camera.

The rabbit says to me:
Slow down. Stay alert.
There are treasures nearby
If only you will pay attention.

Be present right now.
Stop multitasking.
Take five deep breaths
And say a prayer of gratitude.

This moment
Every moment
Is a gift.

A Blessing for Those Who Wait

image of candle

For those who wait
In despair,
In grief,
In sorrow.
You are comfort.
You are strength.

For those who wait
In anxiety,
In isolation,
In loneliness.
You are comfort.
You are strength.

For those who wait
In tender hope,
In tear-streaked sadness,
In fearful anticipation.
You are comfort.
You are strength.

Bless, Loving Healer,
All those who wait.
You are comfort.
You are strength.

Originally written 9/2018. Updated for us waiting and watching the unfolding of the pandemic. Find more of my blessings in my book Christ Beside Me, Christ Before Me: Celtic Blessings.

Don’t Worry. Instead, Pray.

I was already a world-class worrier
long before the current crises we face …
before the Coronavirus …
before the tornados hit my middle Tennessee neighbors.

I remember the nights in my childhood,
when I couldn’t sleep because I was afraid.
I remember my mom helping me cut out
a scripture passage from my Sunday School lesson.
We taped it to the dresser mirror in my bedroom.
“Don’t worry. Instead, pray. …”

Mom and I would read the scripture when she tucked me in.
I could read it in the night if I was afraid.
I repeated the passage until the words became a part of me,
until the words began to pray themselves in the silence of the darkness.
“Don’t worry. Instead, pray. …”

These days, I light candles.
The light of them shines
into the darkness of this world,
into the darkness of my worries.
The light says, “Don’t worry. Instead, pray. …”

“Don’t worry about anything; instead, pray about everything; tell God your needs, and don’t forget to thank God for the answers. If you do this, you will experience God’s peace, which is far more wonderful than the human mind can understand. God’s peace will keep your thoughts and your hearts quiet and at rest as you trust in Christ Jesus.”
-Philippians 4:6-7, The Living Bible

A Blessing for Those Who Wait

For those who wait
In despair,
In grief,
In sorrow.
You are comfort.
You are strength.

For those who wait
In the paths of storms,
In detention camps,
In hospice rooms.
You are comfort.
You are strength.

For those who wait
In tender hope,
In tear-streaked sadness,
In fearful anticipation.
You are comfort.
You are strength.

Bless, Loving Healer,
All those who wait.
You are comfort.
You are strength.

We drove over to Western North Carolina yesterday for a weekend retreat. Driving east were caravans of utility trucks getting into place to respond to the damage of Hurricane Florence. The retreat center where we are staying is filled with residents, employees, and families of employees from a retirement center in Charleston, South Carolina.

This day, I think of those throughout the world who are waiting — for the arrival of a storm, those watching the “drip, drip, drip” of chemotherapy. I pray for those who wait by the hospice bed of a loved one, for children and families in detention camps on our southern border, for families waiting for results of medical tests, for all who wait in fear and sadness and grief.

Drink Deep

O God, you are my God, I seek you,
my soul thirsts for you;
my flesh faints for you,
as in a dry and weary land where there is no water.
-Psalm 63:1, NRSV

Drink deep
with eyes
with ears
with nose
with mouth
with hands
with heart.

I sip coffee, dark and smooth with a hint of cinnamon.

The wrens scold me as they carry food to their young the bird box on the front porch.

I lie in the lawn chair and watch clouds form, transform, and disappear.

I stack a smooth river stone to the pile on top of the bridge over Cave Creek.

The river roars in the canyon below. Its sounds lift my spirits, my heart.

I walk to the river at dusk and watch the ouzel hopping from rock to rock, stopping to preening its feathers before roosting for the night.

I smell the cool, earthy moisture by the river and the hot dustiness in the kitchen.

Vivid memories inhabit me. I breath them in with gratitude. In this place, I am surrounded by a great cloud of witnesses.

Drink deep from the present moment. The living, healing Spirit lives here.