Wednesday, January 4, 2012

i want to be blue



‘Aunt b, if kindness were a color, what would it be?"

Putting them to bed. She looks at me. She is nestled under the covers. I smile.



There is a space between feelings and thoughts and living that we seem to loose. A space created for us to sit. And listen. And wait. A space that is magical and beautiful. It is where Kindness lives. It is where Wisdom makes its home. It is where seconds of silence can give way to years of destruction or eternities of Life. If only we would listen to it. If only we would stay still. In that space lies answers to questions we are afraid to hear. Endings of wrestlings that have gone on for years. Revelations that can make the blind see.
I want to see.
I crave to see.
I beg to see…..
Through the eyes of a Savior boy lost in thought from teaching scholars, an artist Creator whose grace outlives eternity, a Spirit of life and peace and all things beautiful, an orphaned girl who is giving her body in exchange for food, a child in Haiti who still lives in a tent camp from the earthquake and is afraid of the wind.
He wants to know… They all want to know
Do you remember me?
Do you? Remember?
The one who gave you breath? The creator of Kindness. The persona of Patience.
The living breathing Constant who never stops seeing you. Who never stops loving you. Who never ceases to exist or goes away. Who never stops…… Who never. Stops. And who says:
I am in the Space.
In our whirlwinds of Life. We trample. I trample. Being so fixed on the list of doing, the goal of reaching, the next best thing…. That we – I – fail to stop and just sit for a few seconds and listen.


‘If kindness were a color, what would it be?”
Still looking up at me. She is nestled under the covers. Her baby sister next to her. Books have been read. Prayers have been said. Just one more question.
“I don’t know……… maybe blue?”
“Then if you were a color, you would be blue”
I look at her in wonderment and I want to be her. She is carefree. In her head more than she is out of it. And knee deep inside of the heart of God; though she may not even know it.
I kiss her goodnight and tell her that was one of the most beautiful compliments I have ever received. But I leave the room wondering if it is true. I wish to be kind. I strive to be. But am I? In the quiet places? In the secret places? To the closest of kindred hearts to me? Am I?
When space comes to space…. What do we choose? Do we listen? Or do we plunge past it? Not giving it reverence or thought or presence. It holds oceans of riches and mountains of jewels.
I am on retreat for the day. The first of the year, I always take a few days and I pray. I reflect.
I ask for revelations before I make revolutions.
Wondering what the Lord wants me to be or see or understand. How do I need to change, to bend and to shape my soul so it reflects more of my Creator? What have I done well this year? What have I done poorly? Who am I and how am I and where am I in this Spiritual Journey we call Life?
I always leave retreat with more than I came with….
This year? I am leaving with valuing Listening and Presence. With understanding my smallness. With recognizing His greatness. With a respect of the soulful parts of life and a deeper value of the people who make it up.


With a reverence of secret spaces of life between thoughts and decisions that holds wise rivers of Kindness. Rivers that should be heard and emersed in and floated down and sat in – at least for a few seconds - before intentionally stepping into whatever Life has set before us.
I crave to be aware. I wish to be present. I seek to be kind. I want to be Blue.
“Sweet dreams, darlin’s. I love you.”
Turning out the light. I walk away…..
Strangely. Simply. Wanting to be more.

Blue.

Sweet Lord,
You are kind to me. And patient and loving and longsuffering and gentle and good. You are so good. I sit here and I reflect on a year remembered. A beautiful head-spinning glorious year that I place before your feet in exchange for another. Hands open wide for all you have to give. But a heart open wider for all you have to teach. Overwhelmed at the deep blueness of your heart. Hoping to reflect even a speck of it. Deeply thankful for being....
Yours, b

Tuesday, January 3, 2012

~ Fire ~

Sing of a New Year
Echos of a changed heart
Whispers of an old way of being - transformed
A battered spirit bandaged in mortal salve
Seeking a Spiritual Healer of forever
Restored Souls waiting in anticipation for the Spring petals to be felt
Fingertip to Fingertip

Sunsets of regret give way to Sunrises of baptism
As breaths of New Life awaken and are taken one at a time
And with each new breath there is a hope of another
And with each gasp of life there is death of the old
And with each Beginning there is an End
Old Endings melting into New Beginnings


And the Angels sing a chorus of Life

A Life to be lived

An Existence to be embraced

A Passion to be lit

Fire

Let us live out loud and on

~ Fire ~