A Much Needed Reminder This Christmas Season...

I found a list of statistics in a book that I'm reading that reminded me of my blessings, my responsibilities, my priorities, my values, and my weaknesses. I felt like it mattered even more to be reminded of reality like this at Christmas time when so much of our energy and time goes to buying gifts and making wish lists, planning menus and cooking feasts, putting up decorations and stringing the twinkle lights. It's all about crowded malls and doorbuster sales, sparkling candles and decadent desserts, Christmas wrap and the season's hottest toys.

But what does it all look like in light of reality?

• One billion people in the world do not have access to clean water, while the average American uses four hundred to six hundred liters of water a day.
• Forty percent of people in the world lack basic sanitation, while forty-nine million diapers are used and thrown away in America every day.
• By far, most of the people in the world do not own a car. One-third of American families own three cars.

These are just a few of the numerous statistics out there about how the world really works, about how people live their lives, about all the things that other people don't have and will never have because we have it all. There's nothing left for the impoverished of the world to have, no resources, no extra dollars sitting around, waiting for the unfortunate poor to claim them. The United States of America makes up less than five percent of the world's population. This five percent of all people has twenty percent of all the world's wealth.

Shouldn't knowing these things change how we do Christmas, change how we do life every day, change how we feel about what we have?

* information borrowed from Jesus Wants To Save Christians by Rob Bell and Don Golden

Love Is Not A Fight

The following is a song that stops me in my tracks every time I hear it. It grabs me and makes me listen, makes me think, sometimes makes me cry. If we're not willing to fight for love, what are we willing to fight for? 

Love Is Not A Fight

By Warren Barfield

Love is not a place

To come and go as we please

It's a house we enter in

Then commit to never leave

So lock the door behind you

Throw away the key

We'll work it out together

Let it bring us to our knees

Love is a shelter in a raging storm

Love is peace in the middle of a war

And if we try to leave, may God send angels to guard the door

No, love is not a fight, but it's something worth fighting for

To some, love is a word

That they can fall into

But when they're falling out

Keeping that word is hard to do

Love is a shelter in a raging storm

Love is peace in the middle of a war

And if we try to leave, may God send angels to guard the door

No, love is not a fight, but it's something worth fighting for

Love will come to save us

If we'll only call

He will ask nothing from us

But demand we give our all

Love is a shelter in a raging storm

Love is peace in the middle of a war

And if we try to leave, may God send angels to guard the door

No, love is not a fight, but it's something worth fighting for

I will fight for you

Would you fight for me?

It's worth fighting for

Being here, being now...

Why is it that the human mind constantly wanders away from the present, from the current moment into the near future, far future, possible future. It's so hard, sometimes seemingly impossible, to stay present, to be here.

Instead, I look at my place in life right now and wish for something different. When I live in an apartment, I wish for a house. When I live only with my husband, I wish for children. When I work in a school, I wish to go back to school. When I have spare time to be quiet, I look for more ways to fill my time. I’m not good at being quiet anymore. I’m not good at being by myself anymore. I’m not good at committing, at practicing, at being devoted to whatever is going on in my life.

I want to be more present, more centered on what is here and now. But I’m scared—I’m scared of being by myself; I’m scared of my thoughts; I’m scared of my weaknesses; I’m scared of my true emotions. How do I sit down and make it happen? How do I find a way to love being with myself? What are the distractions for, really? What do they do for me? They empty me, dull my mind, my thoughts, cover up the other noises in my head and in my heart. What am I missing in the midst of my television shows and internet surfing and dance music? What am I trying to miss? What will happen if I stop, if I just let myself see what is really going on, let it all out, let go? What happens?

And then what does a modern day person do with their time if they are not surfing the web, watching TV and listening to noise of some kind hours upon hours every day? How do I spend that time? How do I not spend that time, but rather just soak in that time? I don’t even know where to start. I think I used to. It didn’t always feel like this. I think I knew what to do with the silence, with the space, with the extra moments that stretch into extra hours. I faintly remember it feeling right, feeling peaceful, feeling comfortable. But now it just feels frightening. I’m frightened, but I want to be alive, more alive than I’m letting myself be right now. I want to be whole, balanced, well, content and at peace. Where is this place I’m searching for? Will I find it if I search my heart? Will I find it in stillness, in meditation, in contemplation? Will I find it within myself to love myself and love being myself?

Right here, right now. This is all I need.

Always so eager to jump to the next step in my life, my feet barely make contact with the patch of life I’m hovering in right now. I’m going to miss it if I don’t pay enough attention. I’m going to pass by opportunities, blessings, connections, and special memories. I won’t ever have a chance to live this moment over again, so I have to be here in a solid, firm, and tangible way. I have to stop trying so hard to find out what’s coming because what I have right now is what I need.

Where I’m at, who I’m with, and what I’m doing matter here and now. Those things are satisfying, important, crucial, meaningful, sometimes simply delightful. The smiles I’m blessed with every day, the conversations I have with my friends and family, a hug and a kiss from my husband, a new thought that pops into my head, a walk through my neighborhood with the wind whipping through my hair, beautiful bird song greeting me at unexpected moments, every moment precious, every moment the moment I need.

I don’t need tomorrow yet. I don’t need next year yet. I’m here, and I’m happy.

It does make a difference

I listened to something today that really hit me in the face with the reality of how I see the world around me. There are things or people that I judge, ridicule, criticize, mock, or view with complete indifference. And it's just straight up ignorance every time. You can't do those things if you actually know the person or the facts. You can't hate somebody if you actually know them, see them for who they truly are, because really we're all the same. I have to change how I think. It really does make a difference.

Change

I want to

I need to

It makes a difference

Who I am

What I think

What I see

Change

From indifference

To caring

From sarcasm

To sincerity

From criticism

To mercy

From ridicule

To empathy

I have to

Change

You can't keep your eyes closed all the time.

Lately, I've been crying about things more than usual. But I think it's a good thing. I feel like I'm more open right now, more vulnerable, maybe more honest and willing to face the things that hurt.

Life goes by

Keeps moving

Keeps changing

And all you can do

Is hold on really tight

Hold on

To anything that seems

Almost secure

And then

You close your eyes

Preparing for the loop

The flip you knew was coming

And then you open up

And hit the next

The one you weren’t expecting

You forgot to close your eyes

So you saw

Life, pain

Everything you’ve been avoiding

And you couldn’t help

But cry

Memories of Thanksgiving

Thanksgiving is so different now than it was when I was young. Some things are hard to describe though, hard to remember from so many years back.

The house rings with joyful sounds of family gathered together. I love just being here with so many cousins and my aunts and uncles and my four siblings. And all the hugs, genuine, happy, it’s-wonderful-to-see you hugs that you can look forward to every year. Big, cheerful Uncle Jim hugs, warm Aunt Judy hugs, Grandpa hugs that smell just like Grandpa should. Every person here loving me, smothering me in their warm, true love.

Finally we all sit down to our meal, two tables to fit everyone. And Grandpa sits at the head of the table, says a prayer, watches all of his children and grandchildren with his eyes sparkling, almost in tears any time his whole family is gathered close. Grandpa has so much tender love in his face every Thanksgiving.

And sitting there eating with my family, everything feels warm, inside and out. It’s safe, it’s secure. Everything embraces me: familiar faces, familiar smells, everything is just as it should be, and I can be just who I am.

Grandma’s food is pretty much perfect in every way. The smell of slow-cooked deliciousness fresh from the kitchen comes to the table to fill the whole house; every bite filled with just enough moistness, savory seasoning, tartness, textures that melt in the mouth. Grandma’s love is in this food, all cooked carefully, expertly, with a lifetime of practice. It’s delicious, Grandma, it’s amazing.

I’m enveloped in laughter, conversation, joking and teasing. I don’t have to participate in it; I can just drink it all in, be taken in by the joy of being with family. I can bathe in the comfort of the sounds and sights and smells. My role is listening, smiling, watching, wishing it would continue forever.

I marvel at the wonder and beauty of the universe around us.

Can you hear it?

The sky is crystal clear

Look up and see

Glistening, gleaming, glowing

And singing

The stars are singing

It’s a love song, I think

To you, to us

To everybody

Stars love singing

And dancing and laughing

And loving

This is what makes them

Shine so brightly

Souls are the same

They need to dance

To move, to flow

To be free

To shine

All creation has this dance

A steady turning and churning

Like a heartbeat

And the ocean’s tides

And the orbits of the planets

They all move together

And sing together

And live together

And love each other

They all need each other

To be whole

To truly exist

The souls and the stars

And everything else

Completely intertwined

In this dance

Completely alive

In this dance

Can you hear it?

And The Seasons Collide...

Each and every leaf is ready

For this wind that will blow through

They're hanging, trembling, watching, waiting,

Arrayed in all their brilliant hues

Settled in the understanding

That in this passing all must do

There is no such thing as ending

Only falling into something new

Wonderful, Glorious Storms

A fresh wind is

Sweeping through

With the first rainfall

Of the season

Set aside those humid, muggy

Scorching summer days

Give me fresh

Invigorating

New breath in my lungs

Give me gusts

Gulps of rich sky

Winds that whip the wisps

Of hair around my head

In a free and wild

Heavenly halo

Bring the heavens to me

Bring me skies that sing

With voices clear and ringing

Bring me clouds clapping

Jubilant and joyful

Bring me torrents

Or only a trembling sprinkle

Of rain inviting

New life with every drop

Oh skies, oh wind

Oh wild rains

Sing to me

Keep singing

A wise woman once said...

      Poetry and prayer are synonymous in my life, and because both are a gift, which I accept with joy and sometimes pain, I seldom know whether I have served the gift well or ill. But perhaps that doesn't really matter; the important thing is to be willing- to want to serve the gift whenever it comes, either as verse or prayer.

~Madeleine L'Engle

The Weather of the Heart

Rainy Day Walks

How do I describe this kind of Joy?

To the old couple

Hanging their Christmas lights

With precision and care

Several days before Thanksgiving.

To the young father

With his two little boys,

Out flying a kite on this divinely windy day.

What will a little rain hurt?

To the middle aged man

Darting through the streets on his bike

Who takes a rest here and there

While his dog does the heavy lifting.

To walks on a windy day

That turn into a joyous celebration

Of downpours, of windstorms,

Of the prickling cold

That makes every inch of you

Feel so alive.

Oh, the Joy!