Shining Spirit

It is yours, but you don’t own it
It is unique, never one like it before
It is priceless; no assignable value
It is unpredictable, take what you get
It is painful; it is pleasant
It is anticipated, it is dreaded
It has a beginning and an end
It exists whether you do or not
It was meant to be fundamentally good
We have a knack for lousing it up
He has the grace and power to clean it up
We do. He has.
Thank God.

This is the day the Lord has made.
Don’t mess it up.
This is the day the Lord has made.
It belongs to you.

The other day I stood on the bank of the Santa Cruz River and imagined following that light path into the distance. The Santa Cruz has several claims to fame: it runs south to north, disappears completely for long stretches of distance as it runs quietly underground, and then reemerges to bubble along the surface until it dives down again. And, some of the bank area, like the one in the photo, is not easy to get to. I had to climb down an embankment, walk through a large, concrete water drainage system and then push my way through thick brush to find this little oasis. But it was worth the effort.

Birds sang from the tree limbs above me and the river sang as water struggled over fallen limbs and I sang: “when I in awesome wonder”. The impact of the experience was worth the inconvenience of getting there. I think I’ll save the moment in my “life metaphor” folder. Obstacles and discouragements and wrong turns and dead-end streets and dark times characterize life for many people, but I could hear the song of the river in the distance. The mystery and the melody kept me going. And look what I found!

I don’t mean to suggest that life is all about darkness or danger. It’s not. Sometimes it might feel like that, but it’s not. And that’s because light leads to Light. I know some of you reading these words are feeling your way along the dark tunnel or searching for the path through overwhelming obstacles. Don’t give up. Listen for the song of the river. It leads to Light. You may think the river has dried up or disappeared, but it’s there. Deep. And just beyond the next challenge of thick brush, it surfaces. And when it does, it sings. Follow the song to find the Light.

It’s 3:39 a.m. The room is dark except for a soft glow from the computer screen. On that screen is a blank form waiting for words. There’s really nothing very interesting about a blank computer screen. It has no breath or beauty. It is inanimate, lifeless. And it will remain this way until some letters from the alphabet link up to make a word. One word could do it. It doesn’t have to be a big word, or a fancy word, multi-syllabic, common or unique. Just about any word will do. Spacecraft. Tomato. Politics. See, I told you. Drop a word on a page, right in the middle or over in the corner, and the imagination stirs. Creativity kicks back the covers and whispers: “What if you tried this…”

I know this to be true because I’m sitting here looking at a boring, blank page that is mocking my lack of imagination. It’s 3:59; that’s 20 minutes of watching nothing happen. Maybe no word will come. Maybe at 11 a.m. I’ll still be sitting here, fingers poised over the keyboard, my head cocked a little to the left so I can hear the word arriving. For sure, I don’t hear anything now. Perhaps if I made a cup of coffee; maybe the aroma would activate all those little sleeping cells. Tell you what: while I’m brewing the coffee you pick one of these letter-combinations. It’s 4:08 now; here I go. Does any one of these do anything for you: elephant, starlight, pencil, mud, hiccups, poppyseed? I’ll be back in a minute. I’m back; coffee smells good, doesn’t it. Did I tell you that in writing ShiningSpirit for 13 years, this has happened before? Lots of times. Sometimes it’s the third cup of coffee that does the trick. Waiting is hard, isn’t? Waiting is hard, isn’t it? Waiting is… Maybe your waiting isn’t about putting words on a computer page, but you’ve waited, haven’t you? Prayed for, hoped for, longed for and waited. One of the hardest things to do in this is life is to wait. You know that.

Down in the left corner of my computer screen I see that I have written 365 words. Just words. I want to send you something that will be helpful or hopeful, not just a bunch of letters side by side. But that’s the way it seems to be this early morning: 4:29 now. Where is the word? Where is The Word. I don’t see it or hear it. Do you?

I’ll wait.

Is there a particular challenge in your future? Obstacle? Opportunity? Sometimes the terrain looks pretty tough, even scary, but the challenge has been faced by other people, and you can manage it, too.
So, climb slowly. Make each step (decision) purposeful. Look up, not down. Don’t go alone; take a buddy along. Don’t forget the water…absolutely essential. Wear appropriate clothing. And when you get to the top, be sure to wave and say hello.

Not a bad formula for life generally. Go slowly; be in this moment; feel the air; watch the birds; admire the wild flowers. Think: make your decisions in the light of wisdom and spiritual insight. Look up: don’t lose sight of your target goal. If you stare at your boots all day, you might look up and discover that you’ve taken the wrong path. Don’t go alone: Better…remember that you are never alone, but be intentional in inviting Christ to walk with you. Don’t forget your water: if you’ve lived in this desert climate long enough, you know you can’t survive without water. It is a life resource, just like the spiritual presence that accompanies you. Wear appropriate clothing: Shorthand for “put on the Holy Spirit”. And wave when you get to your destination: rejoice and be glad; sing a song of gladness; pray a prayer of thanksgiving. Celebrate.

May you face every challenge with the courage of Christ who dwells in you. Press on.

Early morning. Time to prepare for the day. Start with gratitude. Ok, I’ll sit here and try to think of something…gratitude? I am grateful for….for… Maybe I need a different place, a different setting. I see this same old stuff every day. But where? Maybe if I close my eyes and try to imagine something for which I can be grateful. Check back with me later; maybe I will have thought of something by then.

Not likely.

A gift for you on this Sunday morning, courtesy of the good earth and it’s maker. Wear it behind your ear, in your lapel buttonhole, pinned to your blouse, give it to a friend. Admire it. Share it. Enjoy it. Above all, remember to be grateful for the little things that so often pass us by unnoticed. Life is filled with beauty. Name it today.

For the beauty of the earth, for the glory of the skies, for the love which from our birth over and around us lies, Lord of All, to thee we raise this our hymn of grateful praise. Amen.

Today I shall look for wonder.
I’m told it’s everywhere.
Have you seen any?
It is reported to appear between the
“same old” and the “what’s new?”
I plan to observe the day carefully
and note any suspicious sightings.
I will report any confirmation promptly,
but I ask that you do the same. Let’s
be alert and diligent. I’m told it’s
worth seeing. The Wonder Watch
is on.

I pulled out a volume of poetry by Thich Nhat Hanh the other day and in one of his brilliant poems I found the phrase, the world “…needs you to breathe gently for the miracles to be displayed.” Breathe gently. What a wonderful idea. His poem prompted this poem, which I offer to you for meditation and prayer this morning.

Breathe Gently

Walk through this world and breathe gently.
Do nothing in puffs or blusters.
Gently draw your next breath,
gently return it to the cosmos.
And as you breathe upon the earth,
watch the wildflowers burst into flaming color,
hear the songs of the rivers, and the trees’ replies.
Step lightly upon the moist soil;
bend no grass blade, break no twig in its
desire to become an oak of stature,
a sentinel of serenity.

Let all who care, and all who hope,
and all who weep walk through this world
breathing gently,
loving extravagantly,
dying well.
It is the why and the how of eternal life.

(A tribute to Tom, who walked gently.)

Today I will not be held to the ground by others’ opinions or by
my own fears. Today I will listen to my heart for compassionate
courage, to my mind for perspective and context and to trusted
friends whose presence has and will guide me along right paths.

And, I will find in the words of Jesus the insight and the
wisdom that will be both anchor in storms and
sacred wind to fill my sails and move me forward.
“Fear not,” he says.
“I am with you,” he promises.
My word is truth.
I am the way,
hate is not.

Today I will go to the core of my life
where I will find Him waiting.

An empty cup isn’t very inviting. Is it what’s inside that makes it a cup? Is the cup defined by its contents? Matter of opinion, I suppose. For sure, the cup is designed to hold something: your penny collection, pencils, jelly beans, dirt with a petunia sticking out of it, milk for the cookies, fresh coffee. When I open the cupboard that holds my cups, all different colors and shapes and sizes, they all call out at the same time: Me! Me! Choose me today! I try not to play favorites. Do you think the shape and color of a cup represents its owner in some way? What would you say about the cup in the photo? Utilitarian. Functional. Rather neutral. Imagination? No, not much. On the boring side?

There is a point here somewhere. And I think it’s this: Some days I feel like a fine piece of priceless dinnerware fit for the royal table. Some days I feel like my old cowboy boot cup, or the tacky saguaro cup with a handle on the side. I have a friend who thinks his javalina cup is the prettiest thing he’s ever seen. All in the eye. But maybe we spend too much time polishing up the outside, being more concerned with what it looks like than what it does. That approach produces a fine cup collection, one suitable for display and public admiration. But something tells me that an empty cup wishes it had something on the inside. Feeling empty is not fun. When the hope that used to be there is gone, when there’s an empty place where love used to be, when joy has been drained to the last drop, that’s when filling is so important.

Lord, on behalf of all the empty cups who wait this day expectantly, prayerfully, even painfully, come and fill us with Sacred Spirit. Replace our emptiness with the healing and hopeful energy of your love. May the warmth of your love that fills us radiate to the world around us. May we be for others the Cup of Salvation. Rugged chalice or Fine China; it’s what’s inside that counts. Come, Lord! Inhabit our hearts, for they are empty without you.