Deep Peace

John Rutter’s setting of the Gaelic blessing, “Deep Peace” is playing in the background. I have finished some writing, some house cleaning, put away the laundry and reviewed my calendar for the week… and have a few moments to just sit and Be.

At the silent retreat last month, I had opportunity to do some journaling and praying. My prayers were answered, though not how I expected. Not at all. And yet as I re-read my journal entry, I realized the words were still true:

In God’s silence, in God’s seeming inactivity, so much is going on. Just like the frozen pond in winter, with the peepers and fish buried deep in the bottom muck, things may be still, but they are forming. Within me, there is also — a deeper, cognitive, spiritual and intrinsically peaceful level of change in my soul. 

Would I have known the depths of a yearning for this as-yet unknown Call had I not been still enough to hear it? The quiet is unforced, just as God’s leading, not changed by my wishes but shaped by God’s wisdom.

There is comfort in knowing this… deep within, All is Well. There is so much NOISE in keeping Silence. Well, non-noise, really. And in all of this non-noise, there are reminders of life and hope and peace… surrounding and filling me. There is so much to hear that I can only BE in it.

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I know this Deep Peace, though I have no way of explaining it… only being IN it. Though I still wrestle and complain, (and yes, ask my ‘WHYs’ and ‘WHY NOTs’) I still walk in a place of abiding Love.

I share all this because, I suspect that you, who stumble onto this blog, have your own questions and doubts just sitting there, too. And I believe, down to my toes, that even with unknown answers, it is Enough to just Be. Here. Now. In the Presence of the Divine…

Deep peace of the running wave to you.
Deep peace of the flowing air to you.
Deep peace of the quiet earth to you.
Deep peace of the shining stars to you.
Deep peace of the gentle night to you.
Moon and stars pour their healing light on you.
Deep peace of Christ,
of Christ the light of the world to you.
Deep peace of Christ to you.

Cross-posted: Friday Prayer – Almost but not yet

Cross-posted from RevGals today…

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Holy One,
we are in this time
of almost
but not yet.

We tell of your promised return
but not yet.
Of the wearied hearts who wait
and grieve
and yet rejoice
for it is that time
for the Babe to be our King… and yet
not quite yet.
This Advent winds to a close
almost
but not yet
And we wait
we dream
our vision a haze
of future joys
and realized Promises.
We see imperfectly,
in a blur,
praying for all you will yet do…

We wait
in peace
and joy
for You, Divine One,
for this time
of almost
and not yet.

Amen. And Amen.

Doing. Nothing. (Learning about Joy)

Doing. Nothing.

In case you wondered, I’m not very good at that. My first idea for this evening was to work at finishing a project which was meant to be a present (which will be done by Christmas NEXT year). Then I was going to bake cookies. My heartfelt response? MEH! 

The only thing that really appealed to me was… nothing.

I sat with my emotions for a while, trying to understand my inner processes. My brain is tired. And my heart is hurting for some of my flock. And I’m praying in anticipation for an answer… that hasn’t been revealed yet. In short, I’m out of sorts. Grumpy. A little preoccupied. Life is in “freeze-frame” and I don’t particularly like it.

This third week of Advent is supposed to be about Joy… and while I understand intellectually and personally what “joy” means, I’m having trouble “feeling” it. There’s enough sucky stuff in the world that is weighing me down. (Yes. I know “Joy is a choice, not a feeling.” And “Joy is a spiritual gift, not a state of mind.” I’ve preached the sermons and done the Greek. I’m being real, here.)

On my walk through the outdoor labyrinth at Dayspring last week, I looked down to see this:

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THIS is Joy. Not fireworks or helium balloons or a blast of trumpets (or whatever image that is your vision of Joy.)

Joy is this time of waiting and watching… believing and praying… trusting. And waiting some more.

Joy for me is often a whisper, a hint. It’s a gnat that you can’t quite catch. It’s a lightning bug that rises on a summer night and fades away. It’s the spark in the fireplace, popping and vanishing up the chimney.

Joy is wrapped in the Divine… but it is also trapped in our humanity. And that’s where I am struggling in Advent this year.

27 Notice how the lilies grow. They don’t wear themselves out with work, and they don’t spin cloth. But I say to you that even Solomon in all his splendor wasn’t dressed like one of these.28 If God dresses grass in the field so beautifully, even though it’s alive today and tomorrow it’s thrown into the furnace, how much more will God do for you, you people of weak faith!29 Don’t chase after what you will eat and what you will drink. Stop worrying.30 All the nations of the world long for these things. Your Father knows that you need them.31 Instead, desire his kingdom and these things will be given to you as well.   Luke 12: 27-31 CEB

Cross-posted: In the Quiet

Posted over at RevGalBlogPals:

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Lord,
in this waiting,
we stand in the silence,
surrounded by the faithful of today.
And the saints of old,
who watched and waited,
praised and prayed,
had visions and discouragements,
yet believed,
whisper to us on the winds of the Spirit,
“Wait… wait…”

May we put down deep roots
in this quiet witness
of time and place and holiness,
and hear Your call
to journeying
and waiting,
even now,
with hearts of hope and faith.

For we know, Divine One,
You shall build Your tabernacle among us
and You will be our God
and we will be Your people.
And yes,
we wait…
for You,
Holy One,
for You.

Amen.

 

In the in-between

Advent. That season in Christendom where we wait. Wonder. Yearn. Dream. Pray. And then, we live with the fact that we do not have the answers we so desperately long to hear.

It’s true in my Hospice work. Knowing that death is coming (or not). Wishing there were absolutes and clear prognostications (and being shocked or disappointed). Wondering “how much time…?” When we do not know, and can never know.

In times like this, in the in-between, God uses pictures and moments to remind me… that the Divine is intricately involved in my life. That my short life is cradled in the span of Infinite wisdom. That it’s in the waiting that God Calls and leads me.

Tonight I needed reassurance. I needed hope. I needed encouragement. I needed a reminder of my relational and caring God. And then, this song came across my desktop. It’s by Kina Grannis, and is called “In The Waiting”. I think it’s the official heart song for my Advent season this year. Take a listen… the video is as powerful as the lyrics.

May we each know peace and LIFE in the waiting…

O Come Emmanuel.

 
“I’ve been working on patience
trying to trust in the timing of my tiny existence
I come alive
I sat still in the twilight
I found peace in the quiet things
How could I wish away all the in between?


And all this time
Ive been staring at the minute hand
Oh what a crime
That I can’t seem to understand that life
Is in the waiting.”

Cross-posted: Advent Longings

This prayer is shared from the RevGals page.

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Lord,
in the quiet
in the waiting
in the promises of Old
we see You.

Our hearts are touched
Just brushed
with a promise of more…
Longing
waiting
seeking
caring
carrying
lifting us beyond
the anger of the moment
the worries for tomorrow.

Your hope renews us
with the promise of more
of life
of hope
of grace
of the Christ Child
Born
for us again.
Amen.

And Amen.