In the Heart of the Beloved

When readers open my new book, I invite them to open it up and flip it over. In the introduction, I wrote:

Look at the whole cover. Take in the beauty of the image: vibrant pink, glowing edges, green stem, white centre, light, droplets of rain, petals wide open.

This book differs from the first two in my Everyday Pilgrim series. In Stories of an Everyday Pilgrim and Seed Cracked Open, the beauty is all on the front cover. But, in this one, you don’t get the full impact until you open it up and turn it over.

A tulip this open is near the end of her life. Vulnerably, she surrenders to the One she is turned to now. Her Creator beams and emboldens her to blossom and bless the world with all she is, and will not forsake her in death.

Sylvia Sassen, who took this photograph, has given us a wonderful metaphor for what the stories in this book do. They open us up and turn us around to meet the eyes of our Beloved and see the beauty God sees in us. This image captures what it feels like to be in the heart of the Beloved.

I struggled for years to come up with a title for my first book. I’d get excited about one and then, a week later, it was in the trash. Eventually, my biggest supporter and husband, Fred, couldn’t coax up any enthusiasm when I announced a new candidate. So, he was surprised—we both were—when the title of this book came to me before I published Seed Cracked Open.

Nan Merrill’s paraphrase of Psalm 23 speaks of how I have often experienced the Beloved gently restoring my soul, walking with me through dark valleys, and helping me face my fears. The last verse declares:

Surely goodness and mercy will follow me
all the days of my life
and I shall dwell in the heart of the Beloved forever.

You can see why the title In the Heart of the Beloved stayed with me and never left.

The stories and poems in this book were written and published weekly on my blog, An Everyday Pilgrim (estherhizsa.com) from January 2015 to December 2016. They remain in chronological order.

As I read and revised these stories of my day-to-day experiences, I heard how often I was dogged by self-criticism and fear of rejection. Recently, friends who read my blog told me that I’ve changed. I’m much kinder to myself now. This caused some unease as I got reacquainted with the person that I was seven years ago. I winced at how often I felt the weight of my faults, mistakes, and sin. Yet, in every post, I was tenderly invited back into the heart of the Beloved.

God meeting me there in my shame has enabled me to live less disabled by it now. I can more easily join God in finding the part of me that feels disconnected and bring her back into wholeness.

So I hold that old me with deep gratitude and am pleased to honour her. In this book, she invites you to honour yourself and where you are on your pilgrimage.

Are you hounded by self-criticism? Ever feel like you don’t measure up or don’t belong? Do you wonder if you’re good enough or do enough? You are not alone.

This book is full of “me, too” stories. As you enter into the dark valley of your fears and insecurities, I hope you find God meeting you there with strength and comfort.

∗ ∗ ∗

Love Mischief for the World

Would you like to join me in some love mischief?

Take a moment and notice how my stories or poems have touched your life. As you stay present to what you’ve experienced, is there something in you that would like others to experience this as well? Perhaps you are drawn to gather friends and host a pop-up book reading (online or in-person) in your home, small group, book club, or church. If you would like me to join you in some love mischief, please contact me.

You can purchase In the Heart of the Beloved, Seed Cracked Open, and/or Stories of an Everyday Pilgrim from me. They are also available on Amazon.

What love mischief are you and God doing for the world?
Let me know and I will include it in an upcoming post.

Credits and References:© Esther Hizsa, An Everyday Pilgrim, 2022.
The unauthorized use and/or duplication of this material without permission from Esther Hizsa is strictly prohibited. Excerpts and links may be used provided there is a link to the original content and credit is given as follows: © Esther Hizsa, An Everyday Pilgrim 2013-2022.  http://www.estherhizsa.com
Posted in In the Heart of the Beloved, Poetry, Reflections, Stories, Writing | Tagged , , , , , , , , | Leave a comment

The Gift

“Love you,”
one of my beloveds said.

I held these two words
in disbelief and wonder.
I wasn’t expecting a hug goodbye
or even a glance back.
That didn’t mean
I wasn’t hoping for it.
Now, I was holding the gift
I’d wanted for so long.

For years,
I sat outside a heart
shielded by self-depreciation.
Too risky
to hope,
to enjoy the sunshine,
to say who they are.
Much safer
to stay inside and not
be.

It wasn’t easy to wait.
Leaning against that cold wall
made me cold too–
cold and weary of waiting.
Afraid of what my beloved might become,
I shielded myself.

But Love found a way in.
Love said to me,
“Trust them.”

Those two words
made the wall between us porous.

Love whispered these two words to
others shut out in the cold,
and they too began to trust this beloved one.

Then one day my beloved
wanted to be
in the sunshine,
believed the light
revealed their glory,
smiled, and found
two words.

“Love you,” my beloved said
to me.

After 93 million miles, the sunlight finds things, 
even an old stone wall, to make it beautiful. 
Steve Garnaas-Holmes, Sunlight

∗ ∗ ∗

Love Mischief for the World

On May 7, hundreds of people showed up at the base of Burnaby Mountain, which is a few kilometres from where Fred and I live, to protest the Trans Mountain pipeline project in an event called Hug the Mountain. I regret that I wasn’t one of those huggers. Yet, I’m grateful for the people who did join hands in protest and for sending this message.

What love mischief are you and God doing for the world?
Let me know and I will include it in an upcoming post.

Credits and References:
“Love Heart” By Louise Docker from Sydney, Australia (My heart in your hands) CC BY 2.0 via Wikimedia Commons.
Steve Garanaas-Holmes quote from the poem Sunlight on the blog Unfolding Light.
“pattern of sunshine on stone wall” by spodzone. Used with permission/
© Esther Hizsa, An Everyday Pilgrim, 2022
The unauthorized use and/or duplication of this material without permission from Esther Hizsa is strictly prohibited. Excerpts and links may be used provided there is a link to the original content and credit is given as follows: © Esther Hizsa, An Everyday Pilgrim 2013-2022.  http://www.estherhizsa.com
Posted in compassion, Poetry, Reflections | Tagged , , , , , , , , , , , , | 2 Comments

Release, Receive and Return

For days after I heard how my words wounded another, I was visited with the recurring judgment that I was a bad person, an unsafe person. I was shrouded in shame until God found me through a Lenten reflection on labyrinths with the themes: release, receive and return.

Gently, God helped me to enter the tomb with Jesus and release the expectation that I would learn from my mistakes and stop hurting or offending people.

It was a painful death, letting go of the hope that I could leave that dark part of me behind. I wrote a poem about it called Resurrection Is Personal in my blog post for Easter. It ended with these three questions.

What would it be like
to love that dark part of me
even when other people can’t?

What would it be like
to stand with her when she feels the pain she caused,
hold her when she sees her mistake,
and forgive her
seven times seventy times?

What would it be like
to release her from the expectation
that this can never happen again?

These questions allowed me to breathe again. I heard: Even if another person finds it hard to love me, I can love myself. I can forgive myself. I will offend others again and feel sad and disappointed, but I will be all right. I received these comforting and liberating words from God with gratitude, and peace began to return.

I shared my experience of resurrection with my spiritual director, weeping while I spoke. Accepting my humanity, forgiving and loving myself was freeing. Yet, I noticed how raw I felt. I wanted to withdraw from people. I felt as if I had no skin on.

My director asked me to pause there with those feelings and notice how God might want to be with me in them.

As I sat there, I sensed God’s tenderness and compassion. Then the idea came to me that God wanted to be my skin. I imagined God lovingly covering and protecting my raw hurting self. I felt so safe and protected.

I told my director what came to me in the silence. “God seems to understand that when an incident like that happens, I’m hurt too, and it takes a while to recover. I think God is inviting me to take the time I need for my skin to grow back.”

I returned home reassured of God’s intimate and particular care for me every step of the way.

You lead me in the path of goodness to follow Love’s Way.
–Psalm 23:3 Nan C. Merrill,
Psalms for Praying: An Invitation to Wholeness

∗ ∗ ∗

Love Mischief for the World

I am so grateful to be a part of the love mischief that happens in the Living from the Heart course. I hear testimonies like these from participants and am moved every time. I love to hear that people are releasing false thoughts and expectations, receiving a felt sense of God’s intimate love for them, and returning to their true selves. The course is offered in person in Alberta and BC and online for anyone anywhere.

What love mischief are you and God doing for the world?
Let me know and I will include it in an upcoming post.

Credits and References:
Rivendell Labyrinth  1&2 by Richard Bott. Used with permission

© Esther Hizsa, An Everyday Pilgrim, 2022.
Unauthorized use and/or duplication of this material without permission from Esther Hizsa is strictly prohibited. Excerpts and links may be used provided there is a link to the original content and credit is given as follows: © Esther Hizsa, An Everyday Pilgrim 2013-2022.  http://www.estherhizsa.com

Posted in Easter, False Self, Poetry, Reflections, Stories | Tagged , , , , , , , , | 2 Comments

Playing My Hand

Once I acknowledged that I was on the ADHD spectrum, I saw things I could do to make life easier for myself and those around me. For example, I stuck a post-it note on the inside of our front door: keys, wallet, phone. I didn’t just make lists of what to pack on our vacation to Ucluelet, I checked off each item. I set an intention to pause and consider how others might hear what I say before I speak or send an email.

Fred asked me how he could help. “When I get back from a bike ride or errand, ask me if I unpacked my things,” I replied. I often leave a jacket in a bike pannier or keys in a pocket, and then they’re not where I expect them to be when I go out again.

Most evenings, Fred and I enjoy a game of Sequence. We’re dealt seven cards and each turn, we play a card, then pick up a new one from the deck. It doesn’t matter what cards I had the last round nor does it help to wish I had more Jacks. I just make the best move with the cards I have in my hand.

With greater awareness of who I am and what I have and don’t have in life, I can more freely choose what I want to do with each day rather than feeling like I’m the victim of circumstance. Sometimes, I give in to the allure of distractions and follow rabbit trails of thoughts. Other times, I’m aware of a deadline and choose to focus on what I’m doing. Completing a task pays off with a feel-good dopamine hit. However, pushing myself to always be on task drains me. There is no right way to play the same hand, just different ways.

I thought about all these things as we pored over maps and brochures of Pacific Rim National Park, Tofino and Ucluelet. I wanted to make the most of our week there. Should we get an early start or wait until mid-day when the tide ebbs and the beach rolls out? Should I explore the town or read my book?

One thing we knew for sure was that we wanted to be outside walking on the beach and listening to the surf or on a trail among the silent trees, old stumps, and sculpted limbs.

“In him, we live and move and have our being,” Paul writes of Christ. I love that God is incarnate in all living things, and we are always walking around in God. I felt surrounded in love and beauty in that holy place where ocean and forest meet, that thin place between heaven and earth. Yet there was always a low hum of repetitive thought. You’re doing it wrong, it said to whatever I decided to do.

I heard that accusation again when I sat to pray one morning during our vacation. The words prickled in my throat. My shoulders and arms felt heavy. As I stayed present there, a thought came to me in the silence. What if you believed that you can’t make a wrong choice, that whatever you decide is a great way to play your hand?

A wave of relief washed over my body and caressed my throat, shoulders and arms as it receded. I held that glistening question with curiosity. Of course, this invitation didn’t refer to moral choices. God was inviting me to relax and stop treating all choices as moral ones.

For in him we live and move and have our being.–Acts 17:28

∗ ∗ ∗

Love Mischief for the World

In this video, psychologist, author and meditation teacher Tara Brach and Frank Ostaseski, author of The Five Invitations: Discovering What Death Can Teach Us About Living Fully, share stories and answer questions about how we can be with difficult feelings. Some real gems in this conversation.

What love mischief are you and God doing for the world?
Let me know and I will include it in an upcoming post.

Credits and References:
“Nurse Log” by Larissa Sayer. Used with permission.
“Boom” Crashing waves at South Beach, Pacific Rim National Park by Colin Knowles. Used with permission.
© Esther Hizsa, An Everyday Pilgrim, 2022.
The unauthorized use and/or duplication of this material without permission from Esther Hizsa is strictly prohibited. Excerpts and links may be used provided there is a link to the original content and credit is given as follows: © Esther Hizsa, An Everyday Pilgrim 2013-2022.  http://www.estherhizsa.com
Posted in ADHD, Advent, Aging, Mindfulness, Reflections, Stories | Tagged , , , , , , , , , , , , | Leave a comment

Honouring Our Elders

We humans are the young ones,
the last to be created
long days after the earth, mountains, seas,
and trees.

What might we learn from our elders who
awaken us with birdsong,
feed us with nuts and berries,
comfort us with their soft fur, 
enliven us with colour,
and call us to glorify our maker
by simply being who we are?

Abundance.
Patience.
Solidarity.
Stillness.
Surrender.
Hope.
Resilience.
Transformation.
The interconnectedness of all living things.
Beauty.

Our elders
speak no words 
and yet,
their gospel stories shape our lives,
their gifts keep us alive.
On their backs, we rest.

These wise ones love us well.

How shall we honour our elders
this day and every day
we breathe fresh air,
feel the ground beneath our feet
and open our hands to receive?

Knowing that you love the earth changes you, activates you to defend and protect and celebrate. But when you feel that the earth loves you in return, that feeling transforms the relationship from a one-way street into a sacred bond.
― Robin Wall Kimmerer, Braiding Sweetgrass: Indigenous Wisdom, Scientific Knowledge and the Teachings of Plants

∗ ∗ ∗

Love Mischief for the World

John Robbins, author of Diet for a New America, and his son, Ocean, have been working tirelessly for decades to share cutting-edge research and insights on how the earth and all her inhabitants benefit and thrive on a plant-based diet. You can join the Food Revolution Summit on April 23 -30 for free. In 2020, this summit inspired me to be like one of their success stories. And it happened. But more than that, I found a way to honour the sacred bond I have with the earth.

What love mischief are you and God doing for the world?
Let me know and I will include it in an upcoming post.

Credits and References:
“Giant Old Growth tree-Sitka Spruce” by Nick Kenrick. Used with permission.
Mushrooms by Sylvia Sassen. Used with permission
“Chica, my adopted Spanish kitten” by Sylvia Sassen. Used with permission.
“Wheat” by FarbenfroheWunderwelt. Used with permission.
“Got some flowers for the hummingbirds” by Chrissy Wainwright. Used with permission.
© Esther Hizsa, An Everyday Pilgrim, 2022.
The unauthorized use and/or duplication of this material without permission from Esther Hizsa is strictly prohibited. Excerpts and links may be used provided there is a link to the original content and credit is given as follows: © Esther Hizsa, An Everyday Pilgrim 2013-2022.  http://www.estherhizsa.com
Posted in compassion, Creation, Justice, Reflections | Tagged , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , | Leave a comment

Resurrection Is Personal

Resurrection
isn’t just about living forever.
It’s about living now
and how we pick up our cross,
go through death
and become
a new revised version of ourselves.
Resurrection is personal.

This Easter, I entered the tomb
after denying Christ in me three times.
Three times I was Judas.

I can go through periods of time
when I’m the beloved disciple
people want to be around
and wonder if the part of me
that can be so insensitive
so unkind
so hurtful
has finally died.
I want to believe this shiny new me
is here to stay.

Then the dreaded thing happens
again, and again, and again.
and I realize that
the transformation I desire is not happening.
It likely never will.

I spend three days in darkness
letting go of the hope
that I will learn from my mistakes,
and finally become
the person I wish I could be.

In the light of dawn,
a new thought emerges from the tomb.

What would it be like
to love that dark part of me
even when other people can’t?

What would it be like
to stand with her when she feels the pain she caused,
hold her when she sees her mistake,
and forgive her
seven times seventy times?

What would it be like
to release her from the expectation
that this can never happen again?

 

 

 

 

Credits and References:
“Resurrection of Lazarus” by Andrey Mironov 2011, CC licence via Wikimedia Commons
© Esther Hizsa, An Everyday Pilgrim, 2022.
Unauthorized use and/or duplication of this material without permission from Esther Hizsa is strictly prohibited. Excerpts and links may be used provided there is a link to the original content and credit is given as follows: © Esther Hizsa, An Everyday Pilgrim 2013-2022.  http://www.estherhizsa.com
Posted in compassion, Easter, Holy Week, Poetry, Reflections | Tagged , , , , , , | 3 Comments

This Good Friday

Crucifixion by Ukrainian artist Natalya Rusetskain

You take in all our suffering
feel
every violent act 
every hope destroyed
each final breath.

From the cross
you see
through our denial
and delusions.
No justification dares return your gaze.

From the cross
your eyes
find ours.

In them, we see
love
forgiveness
God with us
always.

You see
the seed of yourself
in us

and call it forth
to live
and love
the world
you died for.

 

Credits and References:
Crucifixion by Ukrainian artist Natalya Rusetskain. Used with permission.
© Esther Hizsa, An Everyday Pilgrim, 2022.
Unauthorized use and/or duplication of this material without permission from Esther Hizsa is strictly prohibited. Excerpts and links may be used provided there is a link to the original content and credit is given as follows: © Esther Hizsa, An Everyday Pilgrim 2013-2022.  http://www.estherhizsa.com
Posted in compassion, Easter, Poetry, Reflections | Tagged , , , , , , | 4 Comments

The Standoff

Such a familiar place,
this standoff between
the part of me that wants to 
and
the part that doesn’t

I can list all the good reasons why I need to do this
but something in me has shut the door 
leans her body against it 
and yells, “Leave me alone.”

I can force the door open.
She isn’t very big, 
but she’s the master of sabotage
and eventually gets her way.

This leaves me no peace.
I really want to do this
and that wanting doesn’t go away.

Then one day, instead of giving in, forcing or pleading, 
I sit down on the other side of the door and rest my hand on it
–touching it touching her–
and softly ask, “Tell me what you’re feeling.”

“It’s too hard, this thing you want me to do.” 

“It’s hard,” I say, letting her know I’ve heard her.

“I don’t know how to do it. I don’t know if I can.”

“It’s hard,” I say again
and let myself feel what she feels.

As I do, the door opens a crack.

We remember a quote from Glennon Doyle, 
“We can do hard things.”

I feel a shift. 
I’m no longer two parts
but whole.

And I get up and do
the hard thing I want to do.

One day, a wise, old owl flew by and saw the little bird all alone looking sad. The old owl flew down next to the nest. When the little bird looked into the kind face of the big owl, something inside felt safe and right to ask, “What do I do?”

The old owl gently moved over next to the little bird and said, “When you grow quiet inside and listen to your body, what does it tell you needs listening to more than anything else?”

–Edwin M. McMahon, “The Little Bird Who Found Herself” in Rediscovering the Lost Body-Connection within Christian Spirituality by Edwin M. McMahon and Peter Campbell

Questions for your Lenten Journey

  • Where in your life do you feel like you are at a stand-off with yourself and unfree to do what you’d like to?
  • What happens as you grow quiet inside and listen? What do you feel in your body? What do you hear?
  • Notice what happens as you simply listen and keep that feeling company.
  • Is there a thought, image, memory or feeling that comes to mind? If so, what goes on for you as this symbol interacts with what is going on inside you?
  • Is there a shift? What do you notice in your body?
  • What grace has God given you?
Credits and References:
“DK” by Andy Simonds.Used with permission.
Quote by Glennon Doyle in Untamed
“The Open Door” by Eric Magnuson. Used with permission.
© Esther Hizsa, An Everyday Pilgrim, 2022.
Unauthorized use and/or duplication of this material without permission from Esther Hizsa is strictly prohibited. Excerpts and links may be used provided there is a link to the original content and credit is given as follows: © Esther Hizsa, An Everyday Pilgrim 2013-2022.  http://www.estherhizsa.com
Posted in ADHD, Lent, Poetry, Reflections | Tagged , , , , , , , , , , , , | Leave a comment

Left-Handed in a Right-Handed World

I do that, I thought. And that. And that sounds familiar. Unease, enlightenment, and caffeine gently pulsed in my veins.

When my friend referred to herself as neurodivergent, I reached out with a “me too” and suggested we get together for coffee. In our conversation, she referred to folks like herself who have ADHD or others, like me on the autism spectrum, as simply not the majority in the same way that left-handed people are in the minority.

“Do you know how many things are designed for right-handed people?” she said. “It’s infuriating.” 

She felt the unfairness of it. I heard that being neurodivergent was not bad or wrong or anything to be ashamed of. I heard: there’s nothing wrong with me; I’m just different. 

Now I was discovering another difference.

“Two years ago when I read that people on the autism spectrum often have ADHD as well, I couldn’t take it in. I didn’t want one more label,” I said to my friend, “but I experience much of what you’ve described.”

I wondered if many of the struggles I face daily are traits of ADHD, so I took an online test and checked every box. That led me to notice how often I get distracted, how hard it is to sit still and listen, and how accomplishing a task becomes impossible when I’m not motivated to do it. In re-reading and revising blog posts for my third book, I saw how often I’ve unknowingly done something that offended someone, and, as you read in a recent post, it keeps happening. 

The real eye-opener was when my friend told me that people with ADHD are hypersensitive to rejection. That made me want to cry. Repeatedly being blindsided with the discovery that I did something wrong again has imprinted the fear of rejection on my nervous system. I’ve experienced repetitive little traumas with no abusers, just people reacting and responding to my impulsive actions, my sin. 

As I awakened to the possibility that my hurtful actions didn’t stem from a moral or spiritual problem but a physical one, I felt angry at the way the Bible has been read and Christianity taught through the narrow lens of morality. I can see now that my Christian beliefs contributed to the denial that kept me from recognizing the traits of ADHD. I believed I was “normal” and that my messiness was because I didn’t value ordinary work. I thought I repeatedly misplaced things because I wasn’t present enough. I procrastinated doing things that were boring because I didn’t care enough about others. I fed my addictions to word games and food because I wanted to feel good more than I wanted God. I interrupt because I’m not patient. I watch the clock for meetings to end because I’m self-centred. 

I have learned to judge myself in all these ways. Meanwhile, I’m as guilty as a person who is left-handed, colour-blind or has to buy specialized shoes. Sheesh!

I’m angry and I’m grateful.

I’m grateful God doesn’t judge, despite what the Bible seems to say. I’m grateful to be in communities that celebrate diversity. I’m grateful for the work LGBTQ+ people and mental health advocates have done to destigmatize differences. I’m grateful for friends brave enough to share their stories of not fitting in and loved ones who listen. If it wasn’t for them I would still be beating myself up for not being good enough. 

But this revolutionary act of treating ourselves tenderly can begin to undo the aversive  of a lifetime.Tara Brach, Radical Acceptance: Embracing Your Life With the Heart of a Buddha

Questions for your Lenten Journey:

  • Notice what you struggle with on a daily basis. What would it be like to offer yourself compassion instead of judgment? What goes on for you when you hear God or a loved one says, “This is hard.”?
  • Sometimes people think that if they aren’t hard on themselves, they won’t improve, that acceptance means we resign ourselves to the belief that things will never change. Studies have shown that the opposite is true. When we accept ourselves and our situations with tenderness and compassion, we find the energy to make the changes we can.
  • What new ways of being come to mind as you treat yourself tenderly?
Credits and References:
“Birds on a Wire” by Julie Falk Used with permission.
“Western Scrub-Jay” by Jerry McFarland. Used with permission.
© Esther Hizsa, An Everyday Pilgrim, 2022.
Unauthorized use and/or duplication of this material without permission from Esther Hizsa is strictly prohibited. Excerpts and links may be used provided there is a link to the original content and credit is given as follows: © Esther Hizsa, An Everyday Pilgrim 2013-2022.  http://www.estherhizsa.com
Posted in ADHD, autism, community, compassion, Lent, Mindfulness, Reflections, Stories | Tagged , , , , , , , , , | Leave a comment

Certainty and Clarity

We are gathered in a circle,
and a question is
placed before us.

Memories come
vivid and sharp
of feeling
weighted by expectation
confined by shoulds
inadequate when I failed.

I sense  
a groaning, a churning
a pushing against
a wanting release.

I give words to my no
certain
that it’s the no 
we all need

until 

on the other side of the room
I hear a quiet
yes
in response
to the same question.

I see a smile.
I hear 
an opportunity taken
a wonder at what became possible
satisfaction
delight.

My experience, my feelings, my thoughts
are not theirs.

Thinking about it days later on a bike ride,
I stop at a light
and these words 
snap into place:
certainty isn’t
clarity.

I had a piece,
not the whole.

The piece is not the whole
yet the whole is not complete
without the piece.

In that sacred circle,
we held our yeses and our noes
and found a way forward
together. 

 

The interplay of two polarities calls forth a third, which is the “mediating” or “reconciling” principle between them. In contrast to a binary system, which finds stability in the balance of opposites, the ternary system stipulates a third force that emerges as the necessary mediation of these opposites and that in turn (and this is the really crucial point) generates a synthesis at a whole new levelIt is a dialectic whose resolution simultaneously creates a new realm of possibility.Cynthia Bourgeault, “The Third Way”

Questions for your Lenten journey:

  • What happens to you when you discover others have a different experience from yours?
  • When you consider that your experience is only one piece of the puzzle, are you tempted to dismiss it as unimportant? Do you want to find another puzzle with pieces that match yours?
  • What’s it like to consider that we need to hear and value each other’s experiences in order to find a “third way”?
  • What might God be offering you as you notice and welcome what is arising in you now?
Credits and References:
“Puzzle” (only visible in banner) by Olga Berrios. Used with permission.
“Puzzle” by Olga Berrios. Used with permission.
“¡¡¡última pieza!!!” by Olga Berrios. Used with permission.
© Esther Hizsa, An Everyday Pilgrim, 2022.
Unauthorized use and/or duplication of this material without permission from Esther Hizsa is strictly prohibited. Excerpts and links may be used provided there is a link to the original content and credit is given as follows: © Esther Hizsa, An Everyday Pilgrim 2013-2022.  http://www.estherhizsa.com
Posted in community, Lent, Poetry, Reflections | Tagged , , , , , , , , , , | Leave a comment