Shining Spirit

Dust covered his feet and his face.
The road to Damascus, rutted and
unfriendly, scarred by chariot wheels and
columns of smart stepping Roman elite,
stretched into the distance before him.
Saul was deep in thought when the
brilliant flash of light struck, knocking him
to the ground where he curled into a
fetal knot.

“Get up, Saul, get up and tell me why you
persecute me.”  The disembodied voice
seemed to come from the clear morning
sky but no one, neither Saul nor his
traveling companions, could see the
attacker.  “Who are you?” Saul’s voice
cracked from dust and terror.  It was
in this moment that Saul realized he
was sightless, blinded by the blazing
light.  Even if someone stood in front
of him, Saul could not make out a
face or physical features.

“My name is Jesus,” the voice replied.
Saul knew instantly who he was.  The
imposter, charlatan, fraud, the one
whose friends were the targets of
Saul’s vengeance.  Now, blinded,
kneeling in the dust, afraid for his
life, Saul gathered his courage:
“What do you want me to do, Lord?”

Hear again the question that spilled
from Saul’s dry mouth.  “What do you
want me to do?”  To do.  An action.
Something tangible.  What to do, not
how shall I be?  Not “What should I
believe?”  The answer:  “Get up, go
to Damascus and there you will be
told everything that has been assigned
for you to do.”  To do.  Actions.  Practical,
everyday living.

Saul’s life changed that day.  He
exchanged one way of living, violence
and hate, for a different way of living,
love and service.  Merely believing
is apparently not as important as
what one does for the Voice that
speaks from the sky or from the heart.

Dr. Pierce’s prescription:

At least one laugh 3x daily for grumpy mood,

sad face, the “blahs”, or a general feeling of “yuk”.

Can substitute chuckle, chortle, guffaw, giggle, titter,

or snigger.  Depending on age, rolling on the floor while

guffawing is allowed.

Side effects include better mood, pleasant face, happier spirit,

appreciation from family, friends, and neighbors.

Refills:  endless

Caution:  addictive and may produce feelings of

happiness, contentment, delight or joy

Recommended for people of all ages, especially

those suffering from droopy spirits.

The bill is in the mail,

marked “paid”.

I’d like to follow the leaf strewn path,

dappled with rays of the morning sun

as it winds its way through forest and glade

then falls from sight near the river run.

I’d like to hear a bluebird’s song,

relax for a while, smell the moist earth,

lay my head on a pillow of moss,

dream of tomorrow and hope’s rebirth.

The shimmering light embracing the path

marks a doorway that leads to a magical place

that transforms and renews the weariest soul,

bestowing the gift of unmerited grace.

In my mind I see this enchanting path

where welcoming light and shadows seem

to draw me into its mystery

but, in truth, it’s only a wishful dream.

I wake today in the warmth of a

soft bed, one room removed

from choices in a pantry of plenty.

At my fingertips, water waits,

the light switch promises to

remove darkness, and I am

conscious of the quiet hum

of the furnace that wraps me

in warmth on this

cold morning.

A rack of shirts, two rows

of shoes, five electronic

devices that link me instantly

to the world.  Either of my

cars can take me anywhere

I want to go.

By all counts, I live in palatial plenty.

How can I not be thankful?

How can I avoid the

obvious?

I expect the unexpected today.

I expect it will appear at exactly the time I
am not expecting it.

I’ve planned the day around appointments,
activities and events.
One of those is not Unexpected, but
it will happen anyway.

May I find within myself the capacity
to welcome it as merely another
feature of the day, one that
might have potential and
possibility.
It’s not
a
problem, just
a different perspective.
Maybe it’s not about dread
but daring.  So, when it checks in,
I won’t check out.  I’ll just say “I’ve been
expecting you.”  It’s not a matter of friend
or foe…just “What’s up?”

Might even be one of those
blessings in unexpected disguise.

Today will be like no other day
in the long journey of creation.
The sun will appear,
people will come and go,
laugh and curse,
rejoice and weep.
A bird will sing from
the laurel bush, and
the mountain will look
out over the brown desert.
I will pray for human
understanding and kindness
and feel a stab in my heart
at the depth of our insensitivity.
But this day will be like no other
because today I will hum a tune
and hear your harmony in my
soul.  When I walk through the
garden, I will see our smile
in brilliant colors and soft
shadows.  I will speak your
name to the wind, and the
world will be embraced
in blessing.

The first light of morning peers over

the mountain’s highest peak and

slides through deep cut canyons.

Its soft glow becomes an exclamation

point of substance and strength.

The mountain’s family, wild creatures,

big horn sheep and white

tailed deer, are warmed

by the gift of morning.  Pines

and spruce, every living thing

welcomes the day.  Light embraces

great granite boulders and sheer,

rugged faces of walls exposed

over centuries by wind’s

artistic breath.  The mountain

and all its children smile at the

blessing given and received.

Watching this act of indiscriminate

embracing, I feel  warmth on my face

and in my spirit.  No word can describe

the joy of inclusion in this breath-giving moment.

The valley shines and sparkles in the

rushing flood of Light.

It falls on everyone.

Everyone

Everyone.

Graceful Spirit moving in and

among us, shape this day according to

your desires.  Only let me be part of your

creative movement as you mend our brokenness,

celebrate with us joys we experience, encourage us when

we stumble, love us even when we abandon love for our own

pleasures and purposes.  We lift our arms to you as your children.

Lift us, we pray, and hold us close to your heart so that we might feel

the sacred rhythm of life.  Graceful Spirit moving in and among us, Beloved

One, we wait for the touch of your hands and the gift of this day in your embrace.

May it be so.  May it be so.

Does one star matter among pinpoints of light?
The sky is filled with the eyes’ delight.
Millions of gifts of light in the night,
so why does one star matter?

Does one child matter who goes hungry tonight?
He sleeps in love’s arms in the soft evening light,
and his parents cry at the pitiful sight
of their child who won’t wake tomorrow.

Does it matter that we’re on a treacherous course
to demolish the earth with little remorse?
Our delicate home that is clearly the source
of our lives in this cosmic parade?

A hawk, a tree, all that live in the sea,
why should it matter to you or to me?
Who cares that we can no longer see
those gifts of grace in the world?

So why on earth should a bird or a bee
make any difference to a man like me?
There’s plenty more for people to see,
so why does one thing matter?

Why?

Hospitality, an ancient art, is the
heartbeat of a peaceful world.

“Come, share food at my table.”
“Take shelter until the storm has passed.”
“You are welcome here.”

Hospitality holds out the hand,
takes the chance, sees deeper
than the apparant, asks no payment
in return.

It is a spiritual virtue, a cultural
necessity, a personal commitment
to the value and wellbeing of all
living things.

Not just about people, hospitality
to the earth determines the
fate of human history.  It refuses
to exploit as it heals the wounds
of hostility.