faithfulness 2: it is a heavy word

The letters are cut but the thoughts and scraps of orange glass remain floating about my head.

I spoke of faithfulness the other night when I met with my spirit group at Gwynedd Friends Meeting House. I spoke of my new wedding ring. Then I said, "Faithfulness is a heavy word."

When I finished talking the group fell into silence, then folk asked me questions. One was to talk more about the heaviness. I tumbled into thoughts. I spoke of how joy, love, and peace were light words. I spoke of the ever presence of doubts. It seemed like I had not gotten a huge piece of fruit called faithfulness. But it is not like I don't also have sadness, hatred, and angst in my life. There seemed to be a huge "should" weighing fown the word. I can't imagine a God saying, "You better be joyful or not." But it seemed like I had no problem with God demanding faithfulness. It was not a fruit that grew within me, but a command. I wanted to spend time with the word.

For days I have been seeing the reflection of the letters in a mirror. The reflection is not heavy. I like that image and want to travel deeper into the word.

as always, I am curious what you think.

...

Fridays in PA---- East Branch of the Monocacy Creek

Back in the Day, Christmas time 1994

Every Wednesday I am to send an e-mail to the four people who are in my spirit group (see here). The first week I turned to a long favorite quote by Buechner. The second week I turned to a verse of scripture that jumped out at me a few days earlier. But, I had no plan and Wednesday was slipping away, so I grabbed Annie Dillard's A Pilgrim at Tinker Creek and found this:

"My God. I look at the Creek"

By 1994 Mosaic Woman and I had ventured through our years in Massachusetts and Oregon. We were living in Illinois and came home to Pennsylvania for Christmas. I took my young nephew for a walk that I had made often as a teenager. We ended up at the East Branch of the Monocacy Creek. I love flowing water.

We need to keep in touch with what we love and over the years I have visited many a place where water runs. My visits these days are too far apart.

I made a list of hopes for 2011. Let me add another. I want to stand and look down at light bouncing off dancing water molecules and say:

"My God. I look at the Creek"

Friday group 1-- a question

Spent time with two groups of friends last night... thoughts on the first.

Three of five have shared their stories at my monthly spirit group, when I jump in... shoulder first. My prayer life has been minimal. Holy Week was spent not following Jesus but being frustrated over my lingering cold and my shoulder taking a turn in the wrong direction. I think of those words that came to me in prayer when I first started OT... "You can heal."

We fall back into silence.

I am asked, "What do you need from God?"

When my OT asked me what I wanted this week, I said... "I want the pain to be gone."

Last night blind gardeners come to mind as I sit thinking about what I had been asked. So I talk about blind gardeners and I decide I don't want to ask God to remove my pain. I want the wisdom to garden with the body I have at that moment.

I say jokingly that I need my knee to hurt to distract me from the shoulder. How do I release this pain.... not focusing on it would help. Twice a day I am heating, exercising, and icing it. Twice a week my evening schedule is changed by OT appointments. My mind is filled by wondering if I can do that task or avoid that one.

The other day another thought floated into my brain. Another old injury that lingered. A massage therapist that released the pain. I need the wisdom to heal not just the hope that I can.

The group is over and I rise from my chair. Both my knees, which having experienced the earth while I planted onions at work, pop and crackle loudly as my legs straighten.

I wake in the morning, my shoulder no worse no better for the digging in the dirt. Knees seem to function. Thighs are sore. I can live with this.

and that is my desire.

...

driving with uncertainty

My blogger buddy Jim often drives to events with not a lot of certainty of what will be spoken by himself when he gets there. I know the feeling. Last night as I drove over to Gwynedd Friends Meeting House for my spirit group, I was wondering where the spirit has taken me this month. Only four of us show up, and as we sat in silence waiting for the spirit to move us to speak, I breathed in and out.

One by one the others were moved to speak, and I sat, listened, and then after silence asked a question or two.

and resonated. I love that word. Listening to the stories of others, in silence, allows their words to trigger cells in my brain, and I ring with the spirit myself.

My friend, who showed up this year, from my old UCC church, speaks of joy. When asked to say more about the joy of working in a daycare, she speaks of ignoring the negative rants of co-workers (I ring) and connects the joy of little ones with the sadness of a still birth years ago ( I ring as I think of Robin, Linda, and Cozy.)

Next our leader leaps in and speaks of meeting with Jesus. Imaginative prayer. And again I ring as I think of how I have fallen away from my prayer life. When was the last time I placed myself into a story from the Bible? I think of my return to yoga.

Then the other male in the room speaks of a hymn that brought tears to his eyes. Asked about it he recites the words, "precious Lord take my hand..." I am ringing. I wonder if his body quakes as mine has done in the midst of a congregation sing a hymn. I ask, "The music, does it touch your body?"

I am the only one who has not spoken. We have moved clockwise. My resonating body is now ready to speak and I talk about the above and end with my desire to be on the jet stream riding the flow, enjoying my scientific brain and my spirit filled life.

here is my latest ... It is one of the two designs I recently drew during an in-service at work.
what do you see? I see a trillium and I see the trilogy. I am on the jet stream.