Shining Spirit

There is a whisper in the air.
Do you hear it? A faint word,
a hushed sound in the midst of
the clatter and confusion of living.
Lay your ear to the ground.
Concentrate. There! Do you hear!
I detect something ominous,
a signal, a sign of great import.
What news can cause the trees
to dance? Look at them, almost
breaking their roots from the
ground. And the sudden songs
of birds, screeching and singing
and filling the frigid air with melody.
Flowers bloom on this sterile
winter morning. A shockwave,
an invasion of mystery replaces
reasoned science.

Who can fathom this phenomenon,
decipher the coded whisper?
Focus. Block out the extraneous.
Listen. Do you hear those barely
audible, ephemeral words?
Quickly, take pen in hand and write
this down lest it be forgotten.

“For unto you is born this day…”

And the cosmos quivers.

I counted on you
and you let me down

deep disappointment
friendship lost?
can I count on you again?
should I try?

I trusted you
and you came through

forgiveness
second chance
restoration

“Lord, how many times should
I forgive my brother…?”

That many?

Music moves through my head
like the clear, sweet water of a gentle
stream. Meanders. Ripples, then
falls hush. Returns and laughs
as it tickles stones living in its
flow…stones of curiosity worn
smooth by eighty years of wonder
and wondering.

The notes, birthed by a long sought
Mystery, rise from somewhere deep
within the internal universe, playfully
position themselves to become ballad
then blues, Beethoven then Beyonce,
eclectic, engaging notes that warm the
cold places of rational necessity.

How lovely, these life sustaining melodies
ascending from one faint star in the universe
of myself. I receive them as gift and hum
them with gratitude.

If this is microscopic, imagine limitless
Behold, a drop in the ocean of a universe
A speck of color in a spectrum of wonder
So the dimensions of Love
Beyond understanding
Extraordinary
Extravagant
Endless

Sometimes you just have to have a heart-to-heart talk with a good friend. Good communication skills are so important. Best to look each other in the eye, speak calmly, listen carefully. Good practices are especially important in spiritual conversations, too. And the same principles apply. Focus your attention. Speak honestly, from the heart. Listen, even and especially in the silence, for a word to come through. Don’t be in a hurry, the TV program can wait. And do this often, maybe every day. It’s called prayer, sometimes meditation, sometimes just waiting on the Spirit. Sometimes you just have to have a heart-to-heart with a friend…especially This Friend.

For the textured beauty of the desert floor
I am thankful

For the soft folds of the mountain rising
I am thankful

For passing gray clouds that linger for a moment
I am thankful

For the jagged cliffs and peaks pointing beyond themselves
I am thankful

And when they all come together in one visual delight
I am astonished

Amen

The creche is in place, beautiful sight,
I rest in the peace of soft Christmas light
as candle flame dances with limitless joy,
leaping and bowing to welcome the boy
whose birth we remember year after year
in a world now ravaged by sickness and fear.
It’s Christmas time again.

We place on his shoulders our unfulfilled dreams,
we hope in a time when happiness seems
to be dashed on the jagged rocks of fear
as we distance ourselves, do not come near.
Yet I need your embrace, your beautiful smile,
I would love to sit and talk awhile.
It’s Christmas time again,

a time to think of what could be
if only we have the wisdom to see
the meaning of creche and infant boy,
so much more than personal joy,
so much greater than the carolers’ song,
here lies the love for which we long.
It’s Christmas time again.

Take comfort, my friend, for the day draws near.
The manger awaits the arrival here
of the Mary’s boy on whom we place
our hopes for peace, the source of grace.
This year was unique in many ways,
yet together in hope we count the days.
It’s Christmas time again.

He did what? That nice young man?
And after all you have done for him!
You must have felt so humiliated.

I agree. I would never invite him
to my home again. Never.
It was fitting for Hannah to
bring her cousin, a lovely and
respectable girl. And your other
guests, accompanied by honorable
friends, all at your invitation. What
a nice gesture on your part.

But this rude young man! Has he
no understanding of social custom?
To bring that riff-raff into your home
is inexcusable. A beggar! A smelly
street person!

I agree with you completely. I will
never invite him to my home. And,
may I suggest that the next time
you see him, simply say: “Jesus,
you are no longer on my social
list.”

I hope he learns a lesson, because
this kind of behavior will not serve
him well. Indeed!

Morning prayer. 4:36 a.m.

Lord, I am grateful this morning for the following things.
Let me know when you’re ready to copy.

I am grateful for…my friends and most of my acquaintances;
my cell phone that keeps me in touch with all the
news that I’m not grateful for; beautiful mountains and
starry skies; my church, even though I can’t remember
what it looks like because of this wretched virus, for which
definitely I am not thankful; memories of my pal
Maggie May who is somewhere chasing tennis balls
right now (Hi Maggie May); my tolerant wife and
my beautiful children, and the delete
key on my computer.

Delete: to strike out, remove, cancel, erase, or expunge.
I didn’t care for the photo above so I hit the key.
Lord, I can think of a lot of uses for
that key in my life: in politics (Yes!), in
religion (Sometimes), mosquitos and
brussels sprout; rampant injustices; people
who insist on driving 25 in the inside lane
of a 45 mph street. How about this, Lord:
Lord, how about installing Delete Buttons on
human beings in the future
so we can just

Isn’t it amazing how animals…all sorts…know instinctively how to adapt to a locale or environment. Of course, I guess Mom has a role to play in the little ones’ development. Modeling. Instructing. “Pay attention, Henrietta.” This little dove knows that on a cold, December morning it feels good to fluff your feathers so they become a warm blanket. Momma was a good teacher.

What life lessons do you remember? Who helped you through those learning years when you used to put your left shoe on your right foot, thinking you knew how to do it? How many times have you heard, or said, “I know how to do this”, only to find out that there might be a better way to water the indoor plants than pulling the garden hose inside the house…true story. I’ve lived a long time, but I’m still learning about life from other people and from life’s experiences. I don’t think we ever stop learning, at least being offered opportunities to learn. Whether we recognize the offer or agree to accept it is a different matter.

You can teach an old dog new tricks, as long as the old dog has an inquisitive mind, one that’s open to signals of change and potential growth. It’s the same with God. Lots of opportunities to grow in spirit and faith, but only for those who treat life like a creative journey, not a holding pattern. Airplanes circle the runway waiting their turn to land…round and round. But life is not circular. It is a meandering journey through wonder and awe. Thank God!