Posts
Wildfire Rain
Rain is falling,thrumming, steady on the deck boards as I wake in the dark. Rain has arrived, like a nurse,in rooms of exhaustionplumping up the hard pillows of dry earth,tenderly touching the burnt boards of dreamsAnointing their fallen doorwaysreleasing the love they surrounded,to soakdeeplyinto the aching hearts of those who are bereft. It is like…
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Holy Week and Easter: Prayers on the Breath
May you risk the road and be graced by what you haven’t planned ~ I am travelling away from home during these marked days. I will be travelling to enter the delightful, loving chaos that days with children and grandchildren offer. I’ve chosen this travelling gratefully, but it opens questions in me.
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Grief Should Have It’s Day
This for many of us is a gut blow of a day. It’s hard to catch a breath. The very air we move in seems heavy. We’re frightened and full of grief. Perhaps too full of grief to be angry, though that may come. Or numbness, that may come too, even more numbness than we’ve…
Read MoreWhat I hope for . . .
Today,the fading fibre of my fatherheavy-makes my heart. And there is more. The thick, malignant possibilityof a draining democracy;the stoppers all are out. Circles more and more of politicians’ speechand less of limbless children,mothers’ gasping griefand fathers’ dust-covered diggingwith no end. We hear breaking news that is broken,thin,repetitive.It is hoped, by some, perhaps,manageable. But what…
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Hallowing What Shines Through
It’s early morning and the sky is a thinning dark; the sense of light is in it. It is a familiar long loved fabric washed over and over, the colour under the colour showing through. It is the first of the Hallows Days, the Triduum of Thin Days. Hallows, according to etymonline comes from Old…
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Ember Days and the Time of Creation
I am so grateful that the denomination of which I am a part has over the years come to honour the liturgical seasons of the church year. It seems to me that each has something to offer and to elicit in the circling movement of my life with the Holy One. I love being part…
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Soft Blossoming Within
These days it feels as though touch is ever more important. I need the soft mulch of the labyrinth under my feet, the cool rain drops left on the deck, the stone in my hand, the basil picked for the sauce. In the midst of the torrent images of war, and genocide, floods, fires and…
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Lectio with a Garden
We open ourselves to the wisdom waiting for our hearts in the garden.
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Swimming Dreams
I went down in the afternoonto the seawhich held me, until I grew easy. About tomorrow, who knows anything.Except that it will be time, again,for the deepening and quieting of the spirit. Mary OliverIt’s been a year; a year with its own particular labours of spirit, mind, and body. Each one’s weight shared with the others. Each…
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Beautiful, Beloved, Beginning
Music Oh My Children Sara Thomsen Prayer: (In unison)Holy One,May we come to this momentas though we were a gardenand You the softening rainas though we were the blossomsand You the orchardas though we were sandand You the tide, offering herself to the shore. May we come to this momentas though we were a bodyand…
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Glittering Pandemonium
Opening to Pentecost Spirit lets in grief and joy. On Friday I watched the news of the shooting at Santa Fe High School as many of us did and felt the spirit of despair lapping at my heart like a cold tide. In the midst of my sorrow, for those who experienced the violence of…
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Maundy Thursday: A Hand-Washing Ritual
Find a bowl large enough for your hands to find space in and also, a towel. Partially fill the bowl with water. Set these in a place where you can sit quietly. This ritual was created for Maundy Thursday but you can listen any time you feel the need to ground yourself, to discern where…
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Palm Sunday; the punctuation of Lent
Here in the midst of Lent’s shadowy days, a splash of red arrives. Palm Sunday punctuates our days of purple with the colour of passion, of witness, of martyrdom. In childhood this day was one for little white gloves and knee socks, though how we managed that in the early spring of the Canadian Maritimes, I…
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