Shining Spirit

A soft white sheet follows the contours of the land,
smooth in places, contoured over stones and tree stumps,
a photographer’s paradise. But how can I know my way?
Where are the familiar streets driven so many times,
the lane that carries me to the gates of my home?
February’s snow blanket is beautiful, but the
path, the Way, is essential. Beneath the temporary
resides the permanent, the hard surface that withstands
both dazzling and debris, sure to foot,
any foot longing to find its way to the warmth of home.
The momentary may be magical but it is a distraction.
Under the snow, that’s where one finds the solid
surface that withstands storms and circumstances,
waiting beneath all exteriors, discovered when
things temporary yield to the essential core,
revealing the way that leads to
the joy of arriving.

After a long day of chasing balls, taking walks, watching a squirrel through the family room window, and occasional napping, Night finally arrives and signals the Sun to rest for another day’s shining. But the very best thing about Night’s arrival is the opportunity it presents to lay your head on the leg of your best friend, snuggle down into that familiar denim, let your eyes slowly close to the evening light, and sleep.

If only the world loved me as much as my dog does. If only I had the will to love with such contented trust. Tonight before your eyes get too droopy, say a prayer of gratitude for all the animals that are fortunate to have a place of warmth and safety in which to sleep, for all the homeless and abandoned animals whose single purpose in life is survival. May the Creator of all living things, all creatures that draw breath, look with mercy and compassion on the lost and the lonely…man and animal. May there be a day when all of us…all of us…can sleep in the warmth and security of love. May it be so. Amen.

To honor the One who calls me
from sleep to awakening,
the Spirit’s whisper in the darkness
of early morning, I give my mind
to thoughts that foster peace,
my hands to work that benefits
the common good of all,
my mouth to speak words
that heal, not hurt,
my feet to walk in solidarity with
the weak and the wounded,
my strength to overcome
obstacles and barriers to joy.


Help me, Kind Spirit, to rise above myself,
beyond the limitations of my imagination.
Place upon my shoulders the gentle yoke
that binds us together
through this new day.
When I fall, pick me up.
When I want to quit,
bolster my faltering resolve.
When the night finally approaches,
lay me down in the sweet
meadow of your love
and sing to me the songs of
life’s goodness.


To honor the One who calls me
from sleep to awakening,
I rise to new life.
I rise to meet the Light.
Amen.

May sunlight warm your back,
a gentle breeze sing to you,
the smile of a friend touch your soul,
an insight delight your mind,
and a helping hand lift your spirit.

May what you say encourage,
all you do come from truth.
May your hands bring healing,
your song fill the earth with joy.
May this day be the best of your life
because you loved and were loved.

May all of this be so because
of your sacred friendship
with the Source of
all being.

Amen

Just one at a time.
Unless the brown bear
is gaining ground,
just one at a time
and you’ll get there.
Rushing while wearing
that coat of worry, or
anger, or emotional pain
will likely cause you to
say something, do something
that you might wish to take
back later. Bad situation.
One step at a time, knowing
that you are not alone. Your
Friend, the One who promised
to be with you always, extends
His hand. Take it, and one
step at a time.

May you find peace this day in the certainty of a Mystery.
May your knowing originate in your heart, not your mind.
May the good earth hold firm the anchor of your soul.
May you be content to live “as if…” when other options disappear.
May your coming and your going cause the universe to smile.
May all around you experience the presence of God in what you do
May your words magnify the meaning of life found in simple trust.
May you sleep tonight with thoughts of a day well spent.
May it be so. Amen.

“Don’t argue. Don’t pout! Just…Do what I tell you to do!” Got it?

Those are familiar words to a few of us. Remember when your Mom or Dad said that, or something very similar? Well, with a slight modification, that’s what Mary, the mother of Jesus, said to the servant staff at the wedding party in Cana long ago. Mary was giving them some very clear instruction, and some very valuable advice. “Do whatever he tells you to do.” The “he” in question is her son, Jesus, and the setting is the wedding celebration where the wine vat ran dry and thirsty guests wanted refills. The servants didn’t know what to do, and it wasn’t their responsibility to keep the party rolling.

“Just do whatever he tells you to do.” And, as we know from John’s Gospel account, Jesus called for six empty water jars, had the servants fill each to the brim with water, and presented the jars to the host who sampled the liquid and pronounced it the best wine he had ever tasted. This is a powerful story on several levels, but I suggest we don’t lose sight of the wonderful advice because of the wonderful wine.

Do you think your life might be slightly different if you followed Mary’s good advice. “Do whatever he tells you to do.” Don’t whine. Don’t try to negotiate or compromise. For sure, don’t ignore. What’s the point of being a Follower if I don’t follow? The value in reading His teachings, closing the book, and then doing what I want to, anyway? We acknowledge that Jesus is the person who most truly reveals the nature and purposes of God. We use words like “incarnate” and “presence” to describe our limited grasp of who he was and is. Mary knows! And she’s giving us some very good advice. Just do what he tells you to do. You don’t have to agree. Just do it.

Naïve? I don’t think so. It’s called Trust, or Faith, if you wish. So when he says: Love your neighbor, then love your neighbor. Feed the poor…then feed. Comfort the sick…comfort. Forgive your enemy…then forgive. The basic assumption is that the incarnation of the Creator in human flesh may know more than we know. May even have better solutions to the world’s ills than we do.

Good advice. Do whatever he tells you to do.

Living on the planet Metaphor is both blessing and curse. Blessing because everything I see has a greater meaning, discernable if I stop and ponder. Curse because everything I see has a greater meaning, discernable if I stop and ponder. People who live on normal planets, like Earth, don’t get lured so easily into the forests of questions marks that grow here. But I can’t put all the blame on the atmospheric conditions of the planet. I could say no to the seduction of pondering. I could resist. I have the willpower. No I don’t. Geraldine, also known as Flip Wilson, used to say “the devil made me do it!” The devil gets a lot of blame for human weakness in the face of passing temptations.

So, about the water. It flows through a pump system in a concrete fountain that sits in my backyard. The fountain structure is about five feet tall, weighs more than I care to pick up, and has built-in lighting so that it looks quite nice at night. End of story. There is nothing more to say about this common water flowing through an ordinary stone fountain. Water is water. Nothing more to say. Yes, there is. How can you not see it! It’s right there before your eyes. The water in the picture is the visual depiction of creation, yes, that Creation. Ah, but I forget that you are a visitor on Metaphor.

See how the water flows so smoothly in the beginning. Tranquil, peaceful, smooth. Good water. But it doesn’t take long for that to change. Without warning, smooth becomes twisted and tranquil changes into a tantrum. That’s the story of life for a lot of people. It’s the average day. One man, who lived hundreds of years ago, finally got so fed up with life’s contradictions that he shook his fists at the heavens and shouted: “Why do I do the things I do and leave undone the things I know I ought to do?” You know his answer? The devil made me do it. Flip Wilson got his punch line from St. Paul. By the way, you can still become a saint even if your life is full of confusion and contradiction. I digress.

So, this is a sample of life on planet Metaphor. Dual planetary citizenship is available, if you’re interested. But a warning: You will be asked to subscribe to something called The Planetary Policy. It’s a bit like a creed. It says: “I will look until I see. I will listen until I hear. I will experience until I feel. And, I will welcome the inevitable inconsistencies of life as couriers of deeper realities.” Oh, I almost forgot: “I will tend and water the Question Marks that grow in my garden until they blossom into Exclamation Points.”

Now, about that water…