Just Now

Posted on October 28, 2022 by Esther Hizsa

Did you notice that just now?
That unexpected spaciousness in the midst of 
everything trying to get through the door at once. 
A delicious “Ahhhh!” 
A sense that it’s going to be fine. 
It is fine. 

You keep thinking you need 
more days with nothing scheduled, 
more weeks of walking on the beach 
or puttering in the kitchen 
as if spaciousness only lives there 
and not here 
wedged between 
computer malfunctions 
and untimely requests. 

You only need to put your mother-hands on your heart 
or cup your face with your child-hands, 
take a deep breath and let 
your heart come down from the ledge 
your mind notice its thoughts 
your body remember its wholeness. 

All you need at this moment 
you already have. 

Did you hear that just now? 
That skeptical thought? 
Don’t shoo it away. 
Some part of you doesn’t quite believe Me 
but it wants to. 

Hold that part of you in your mother-arms 
close  your eyes 
and take it with you 
back into that spaciousness 
you felt 
just now. 

 

You calm the roar of the seas and the noise of the waves.
–Psalm 65:7 (GNT)

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Love Mischief for the World

“Befriend your feeling of loneliness. Befriend that loss,” I heard Nouwen say in a recording of a talk he gave to a L’Arche gathering in 1994 entitled “Finding our Sacred Centre. Many years ago, reading Henri Nouwen’s The Way of the Heart set my heart on pilgrimage. I wrote about this profound experience in the opening chapter of Stories of an Everyday Pilgrim. So I was delighted to discover the Now and Then Podcasts. In these podcasts, Karen Pascal, executive director of the Henri Nouwen Society interviews spiritual writers, thinkers, and leaders who have been influenced by Nouwen such as Sister Joan Chittister, Brian McLaren, and Anne Lamott. There are also recordings of talks Henri Nouwen gave. What a gift.

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:
“Calm & Chaos 11” by A K. Used with permission.
“Calm” by Mike Green. Used with permission.
Photo of Henri Nouwen Creative Commons.
© 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 Poetry, Reflections | Tagged , , , , , , , , , , | 2 Comments

Make Peace with Your Helplessness

Posted on October 21, 2022 by Esther Hizsa
 
Make peace with your helplessness.

You can’t change the past 
or control the future. 
What is 
is 
what is.

Feel your anger.
Watch it rise up 
and look for someone to blame. 
Even if it is their fault 
or yours or God’s, 
it doesn’t change a thing. 
You’re still here. 
You still feel trapped, 
like the bottom has fallen out of your world. 

Notice how you go over what happened 
again and again and again– 
what went wrong, 
what could have been done, 
what you would do next time.
All this enlightenment 
may prevent life from repeating itself 
but it can’t undo this. 

It takes time to 
make peace with your helplessness. 
But as you stay present there 
you discover 
it threatens but doesn’t kill 
knocks down but can’t destroy 
you.

Eventually you 
feel a softening, 
shift your weight 
and find 
a hidden strength 
that enables you to thrive 
right where you are 

in the place you least expected 
to see yourself 
smiling.

We are afflicted in every way but not crushed,
perplexed but not driven to despair,
persecuted but not forsaken,
struck down but not destroyed,
always carrying around in the body the death of Jesus,
so that the life of Jesus may also be made visible in our bodies.
–2 Corinthians 8-10 (NRSVUE)

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Love Mischief for the World

“Go and make peace with your helplessness,” Alfred Bell told his son, Steve, who was distraught when his father’s cancer returned. As Steve grieved the death of his father, a song came to him that he sang for his audience at Como Lake United Church last Friday. It was good to hear Steve in person again and let the love mischief of his stories and music inspire love mischief in me.

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:
“Dove of Peace” photo by Don Sutherland. Used with permission. 
“Flower blooming during sunrise” by Viraj Shah. Creative Commons Licence.
© 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 Poetry, Reflections | Tagged , , , , , , , , , , | 5 Comments

Turning Toward

Posted on October 14, 2022 by Esther Hizsa

I was the last one to sit down at our table. Our table was in a hall with one hundred and fifty other guests celebrating my niece’s wedding at a YMCA camp at Sturgeon Lake, Minnesota. My place at that table was between a golf enthusiast who doesn’t like to walk and a big steak-loving salesman of something I would never need to buy, and across from a quiet, retired fellow who likes to hunt, fish and follow football. When these men talked–if they talked–they didn’t talk to me.  

I felt like a fish out of water and pined for the ocean of home. I was tempted to shut down and just get through. But something in me was determined to connect with my table mates. 

I can’t say I was successful in engaging any of them in a meaningful conversation, but I had an affection for each of them. I enjoyed hearing them speak of what they enjoyed. I liked seeing what made them come alive. And I could imagine God enjoying them too. 

It seemed like such a small thing, this turning toward instead of away when I encountered people who appear to have little in common with me. It felt inconsequential, and I noticed how much more I enjoyed talking with the woman kitty-corner to me who, just like me, has someone with autism in her life and teared up when we talked about the message the pastor gave at the wedding ceremony. 

While waiting to board the plane home, the airport’s internet was down, and I couldn’t read the reports I’d hoped to. So I put on my headphones and listened to Pema Chödrön’s book Welcoming the Unwelcome. She talked about turning toward the uncomfortable instead of turning away.

I heard that when we turn away, we engage in the misbelief that others who don’t share our values or challenge us are not worth our time. Someone who is “not worth our time” has less worth to us than someone who makes us feel good. They are less important, less valuable, and less real.

You can see where this goes. Once a person is judged as “less than,” it’s easy not to care about them or if they are farther away or faceless, condone violence towards them. It all starts with a thought, an untrue thought that they don’t belong to me. 

But they do.

Just like me, my brother-in-law Claude (who loves me, for sure) enjoys a cappuccino and always wants to help. Just like me, my brother Ron’s neighbour Vern delighted in a grouse that kept following him around one day when he was out in the woods. Just like me, Ron’s other neighbour Mike got up and danced because he loves his wife and she loves to dance. Just like me, these men love Ron and his wife and want the best for the bride and groom. Just like me, being who they are is making the world a better place. 

My sister Sylvia, me, and my brother Ron.

On that day you will realize that I am in my Father, 
and you are in me, and I am in you.
–-John 14:20 (NIV)

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Love Mischief for the World

In her book Welcoming the Unwelcome: Wholehearted Living in a Brokenhearted World, Buddhist nun Pema Chödrön explains a prayer practice you can do anywhere called “Just Like Me.” Pema writes, “When we find ourselves in an unwelcome situation, for example, stuck in a waiting room or a traffic jam, we should look around us not to see the obstacles or causes of our frustration but our common humanity.

“Just like me, these people have somewhere to go.”

“Just like me, they feel trapped and frustrated.”

“Just like me, that person doesn’t want to suffer.”

“Just like me, she doesn’t want hatred coming towards her.”

Pema Chodron.

Audio Player

JUST LIKE ME
by Pema Chödrön

Pema goes on to say, “I do this sort of thing in all kinds of situations—at the breakfast table, in the meditation hall, at the dentist’s office. Standing in the checkout line at the market, I might notice the defiant teenager in front of me and make the aspiration, ‘May he be free of suffering and its causes.’ In the elevator with a stranger, I might notice her shoes, her hands, the expression on her face. I contemplate that just like me she doesn’t want stress in her life. Just like me she has worries. Through our hopes and fears, our pleasures and pains, we are deeply interconnected.” (source: Mindful Spot)

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:
Photo of flowers at the wedding by Sylvia Frehner. Used with permission.
Selfie of my siblings and me by Sylvia Frehner. 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
Posted in Mindfulness, Prayer, Reflections, Stories | Tagged , , , , , , , , , | Leave a comment

My First Podcast Interview

Posted on October 7, 2022 by Esther Hizsa

On Hints of Gladness, spiritual director and coach Rod Janz interviewed a number of spiritual directors about contemplation. I was thankful to be one of them.

In our conversation, Rod asked what contemplation means to me and what it looks like in my life. I talked about a few pivotal moments and how writing this blog has become a life-giving spiritual practice.

I enjoyed sharing my journey with Rod who was in the same cohort as me in our spiritual direction training with SoulStream fifteen years ago. I was also grateful to have the opportunity to lead him and our listeners in an Ignatian Prayer of Imagination with the story of Zacchaeus. 

Here’s what Rod put on Hints of Gladness. 

“Just sit there and let me love you,” Esther heard God say to her in silence many years ago. “That invitation anchors me to this day, and I hope that in my writing and in spiritual direction and retreats, others will hear God’s loving invitation too.”

Esther is a writer, spiritual director (trained through (SoulStream) and co-facilitator of SoulStream’s Living from the Heart course. She is also a mother, grandmother and wife married for 43 years to her husband, Fred. She and Fred live in Burnaby and love the outdoors, spending as much time as they can hiking in the mountains, biking in wide open spaces, and walking in the woods or by the sea. Esther is the author of three books and a blog, An Everyday Pilgrim.

Click here to listen to the Hints of Gladness interview.

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Love Mischief for the World

Wintering brings about some of the most profound and insightful moments of our human experience, and wisdom resides in those who have wintered.
— Katherine May, Wintering

A Call to Wintering:
Finding God in a Season of Dark Mystery and Starry Wonder
An Ignatian Weekend Retreat Online

Is your heart calling you to encounter God in your wintering? I would love it if you would join Jan Evans and me for a silent, guided prayer retreat on November 18-20, 2022. More details here.

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:
“Happy smiling child” by verkeorg. Used with permission.
Photo of Esther on Lion’s Gate Bridge 2021 used with permission.
Photo of night sky creative commons license.
© 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 Prayer, Praying with the Imagination, Reflections, Resource, Stories, Writing | Tagged , , , , , , , , , , , | 3 Comments

Telling the Truth

Posted on September 30, 2022 by Esther Hizsa

When I first talked about hurtful experiences in my past, the pain of it was so great, it would swallow me whole.

Over the years, good friends, counsellors and spiritual directors listened and validated how awful those moments were. Their compassion enabled me to grieve my past and see how those events seeded the belief that I was unlovable and unwanted. Seeing that freed me from the prison of those false beliefs. 

Freedom comes in naming truth without justifying, excusing, explaining, or minimizing it. 

Until I could acknowledge that what happened to me was awful and damaging, I was locked in a dark place of confusion, self-protection and self-disgust. I looked at life through a narrow lens of fear.

Truth and compassion unlocked me from that dark cell and allowed me to see a bigger picture. I found compassion for those who hurt me and forgave them. I forgave myself for not snapping out of the effects of trauma. 

Now I can say that some things that happened to me as a child were awful and painful AND there’s more to the story. I can say that now. When people expressed something like that to me when I was still locked away, I stayed locked away. I felt unheard. It validated my fear, not my reality. 

Naming the truth opened me to reconcile with those who hurt me in the past. It unlocked my view of them, and I began to see their hearts and good intentions. Now, I’m more able to believe it when they express their love and care for me.

That said, some people who have hurt us have not changed. If the abuse continues, opening ourselves vulnerably to them or having a relationship with them is not safe or wise. 

However, in this place of freedom, whether people have changed or not, we can forgive. We need to forgive, for our sakes more than theirs. Unforgiveness keeps us stuck in the past. 

Yet, forgiveness is a process not done easily or quickly. It requires desire, intention, and openness to respond to what is unfolding. That is all it requires. I can’t make myself forgive sooner or more deeply than I’ve been given the capacity for. Like grief, forgiveness finds its own path.

Naming truth, having it validated by others, and opening to forgiveness make reconciliation possible. But what that reconciliation looks like may not be revealed until I’m ready to receive it. Meanwhile, I can trust that God is at work here doing more than I can hope for or even imagine. 

One thing I know for sure on this National Day of Truth and Reconciliation is that seeking truth and reconciliation with our indigenous sisters and brothers begins with telling the truth about our own past.

 For God was pleased to have all God’s fullness dwell in Christ, 
and through him to reconcile all things.
–Colossians 1:19-20 NIV (adapted)

Love Mischief for the World

On this National Day of Truth and Reconciliation, I offer the promise found in scripture that we can be “afflicted in every way but not crushed, perplexed but not driven to despair, persecuted but not forsaken, struck down but not destroyed” because we all carry God in us like a treasure in clay jars. I also want to offer you the love mischief of Maya Angelou.

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:
Photo of girl and bit of light by Pxhere. CCO Public Domain
“.jus let me iN” by Sippanont Samchai. 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
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Patches of You

Posted on September 23, 2022 by Esther Hizsa

Sometimes
— let’s face it, a lot of times–
I think I would be happier,
if life wasn’t clouded
with conflict,
unsolved problems,
deadlines, tension,
and unpleasant feelings.

Sometimes life just works.
Things fall into place.
We have summer days of endless sky
with no dark clouds anywhere.

I want to live there

and if I’m not there,
I think something’s wrong
or, to be more specific,
I’m doing something wrong.

But it isn’t so You tell me
through sages and poets.
Clouds come and go
but that sky of endless blue
remains–
surrounding all
within all
within You
within me.

When I return to rest within
and see the view from there,
I’m more able to find
patches of You
in everything.

We like to imagine that it’s possible for life to be one eternal summer, and that we have uniquely failed to achieve that for ourselves. We dream of an equatorial habitat, forever close to the sun; an endless, unvarying high season. But life’s not like that.
–Katherine May, Wintering

May I receive the love of Your presence in everything that is.
May I offer love to everything that is.
May your peace envelop my entire being.
And may the longing of my heart take me deeper into You.
–Anonymous

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Love Mischief for the World

I loved listening to Krista Tippett’s interview with Katherine May about wintering.

Here’s another quote from Katherine’s book. “Plants and animals don’t fight the winter; they don’t pretend it’s not happening and attempt to carry on living the same lives that they lived in the summer. They prepare. They adapt. They perform extraordinary acts of metamorphosis to get them through. Winter is a time of withdrawing from the world, maximising scant resources, carrying out acts of brutal efficiency and vanishing from sight; but that’s where the transformation occurs. Winter is not the death of the life cycle, but its crucible.”

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:
“Menacing” by Rachel Gardner.Used with permission.
“Dark Clouds” by Walt Stoneburner. 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
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Smug Mode

Posted on September 16, 2022 by Esther Hizsa

So we got to climb one more mountain after all. And not just any mountain–Black Tusk. Bagging this peak is not just a walk in the (Garibaldi) Park. You have to backpack 9.5 kilometres and up 900 metres to a base camp and then hike 7.5 more kilometres up another 800 metres through alpine meadows and a scree slope, and then scramble up “the chimney.”

There was a fair bit of talk amongst the hikers (predominately aged 40 and under) about this climb. “The Tusk is way too scary,” said one. Another said, “A fellow that climbed Robbie Reid said Black Tusk was too risky.”

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We didn’t intend to climb the Tusk. But when we found out the trail to Mt. Price was flooded and impassable, we headed to Panorama Ridge with everyone else.

But Fred doesn’t like doing what everyone else does. We hadn’t gone fifty metres when he said, “What the heck. Let’s do the Tusk.”

We climbed the Tusk decades ago. I remembered being a little freaked out. I also remembered the spectacular view from the top. “Let’s do it,” I said.

So we did. Even though my body was older, it had more memories of taking life one step at a time. As long as I felt secure on this rock and had a good handhold there, I could take the next step.

You can imagine that we seniors felt pretty proud of ourselves. We were definitely in smug mode.

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View from the top of Black Tusk

We hiked down enjoying views of Garibaldi Lake and Garibaldi Mountain, crossed over streams and passed by fields of wildflowers still blooming. The summer was coming to an end. Yet I felt the tug to keep playing. After all, don’t people our age get to do that?

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Garibaldi Lake and Garibaldi Mountain

Before we headed back to the city, we camped for two nights at Alice Lake and rested. Well, Fred rested. I wrote my blog post, prepped for a podcast, wrote up my verbatim for peer supervision, worked on some material I was presenting for Living from the Heart, and read over the opening chapters of The Ignatian Adventure, since I was preparing to lead a directee through the Spiritual Exercises.

In that reading, I was reminded of Ignatius’ call to do the greater good for God’s glory. Ignatius gave up “vain pursuits” to serve the poor and help people experience God’s love and find their life’s purpose through praying the Exercises.

While I wouldn’t call being outside hiking and biking a vain pursuit, that isn’t all I want to do with my life.

Right on cue, a few days later, Pastor Ruth preached on the value of setting aside our personal freedoms for the sake of others. And haven’t I seen that theme in episode after episode of Stranger Things? (Gotta keep up with the grandkids, you know.)

A part of me would really like to retire from the stress of deadlines and commitments, but another part of me remembers how God is with me, placing my foot upon a rock here, showing me a handhold there, and, oh, the beauty of seeing others find themselves in God. Well, that’s priceless.

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Tell me, what is it you plan to do with your one wild and precious life?
— Mary Oliver, The Summer Day

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Love Mischief for the World

Fred had some fun putting together this video of our climb. 

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:
Photos by Fred Hizsa. 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 Creation, Ignatian Spirituality, Reflections, Stories | Tagged , , , , , , , , | 7 Comments

In the Potter’s Hands

Posted on September 9, 2022 by Esther Hizsa

“NO!!!” I cried, followed by a WTF, and my world coming to an end.

In anyone else’s world, someone had simply made a mistake. No biggie. Easily fixed. But in my world, this was not supposed to happen. Someone (aka Fred) was to blame, and I wanted to blame him.

“Sorry for overreacting,” I said before I felt sorry. It was the right thing to do but something in me still wanted to justify my angry outburst.

A few hours later, I was the one who made a mistake and saw the NO!!! on someone else’s face. “Sorry, I totally forgot,” I said, wanting them to get over it.

That week, the scripture about being shaped in the potter’s hands popped up three times, and three times that same week I overreacted to someone’s innocent mistake. God was shaping me.

But, not with shame. I felt sorry for my intense reaction but not ashamed. Over the years, as you know, God has been schooling me to let go of self-judgment and simply observe what happened and offer myself compassion and curiosity.

We all overreact at times. After we come to our senses, we long to be that saint who can go with the flow. But I don’t think that’s God’s intent.

Maybe, God is shaping us into people who can be kind to ourselves even when we can’t be kind to others.

Often after an incident like this happens, I redouble my efforts to never overreact and blame again. But what if God is inviting me to accept that I will? When I lost it, God didn’t think the world was ending because I had another meltdown. And neither did Fred.

I think God is shaping me into someone who can accept that it takes me a while to get over the shock of things not going as planned. And perhaps, in the process, I will be given a little more grace for others who have meltdowns too.

Just like the clay in the potter’s hand,
so are you in my hand.
—Jeremiah 18.6 (NRSVUE)

∗ ∗ ∗

Love Mischief for the World

At a potluck barbecue a few years ago, a woman in our contemplative group asked me about SoulStream‘s Living from the Heart. I told her about the structure and content of the course. “But if you want to know what it’s like, you can ask someone who took it,” I said looking at our friend Mei. “It changed my life,” she replied. It changed mine too. A recent participant summed it up this way, “At Living from the Heart, I found a God I could love; as I continued on in the course, I found a God who loved me.” There are still spaces available for the course on Bowen Island (until Sept 12) and online (until Oct 1).

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:
“Tantrum” by amanda tipton. Used with permission.
“In the hands of the potter” by Photos by Clark. Used by 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
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Stay Right Here

Posted on September 2, 2022 by Esther Hizsa

Summer wasn’t finished.
There were more mountains I wanted to climb
when autumn came demanding, list in hand,
reminding me of
all the preparations to be made
deadlines to meet
and commitments to honour.
A rising tide of the urgent
triggered an internal tide of anxiety.

“Breathe,” You said
and drew my attention
to the one thing before me.
We did it
as if it were the only thing
I needed to do.

At the end of the day,
I saw
how much more needed to be done.
You saw
how tired I was.
“Rest,” You said.

In the morning,
I felt the tide again.
and wanted to flee.
“Sit with Me,” I heard. 

When we were done sitting,
we did the one thing that floated toward me,
then another,
and another.

It went on like that for days:
fearing, breathing, resting, sitting, doing,
finding calm and wanting to flee.

“Stay right here,” You’d say,
“Welcome this moment,
find Me with you in it,
and trust Me with the rest.”

That’s all you want me to do
each day.

In returning and rest, you will be saved.
        In quietness and trust, you will find strength.
–Isaiah 30:15 (Voice)

∗ ∗ ∗

Love Mischief for the World

This week I camped in Sasquatch Provincial Park with Fred and our grandson. In the early morning, while they were still asleep, I was reading The Growing Season, thinking about wine and considering my “somewhereness”–that “place you’re deeply connected to that informs and fuels your sense of personhood.” I was in it.

Nelson Boschman is a pastor, writer, spiritual director, wine enthusiast, husband, father, and a co-facilitator of SoulStream’s Living from the Heart course. “The Growing Season explores the intersection between vineyard, cellar, tasting room, and soul. It’s a closer look at the transformation that occurs from grape to glass, and what that process can teach us about what it means to flourish as human beings.” (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:
‘Wet Feet” by stokes rx. Used with permission.
“Seagull” by Charlie Day. Used with permission.
“The Growing Season” book image 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 Mindfulness, Poetry, Prayer, Reflections | Tagged , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , | 3 Comments

Carried

Posted on August 26, 2022 by Esther Hizsa

Just then some men came carrying a paralyzed man on a stretcher. They were trying to bring him in and lay him before Jesus, but, finding no way to bring him in because of the crowd, they went up on the roof and let him down on the stretcher through the tiles into the middle of the crowd in front of Jesus. When he saw their faith, he said, “Friend, your sins are forgiven you.”— Luke 5:18-20 (NRSVUE)

Something happened that paralyzed me.
I needed to talk about it.

I shared it with my priest,
my spiritual director,
a counsellor, 
and a friend. 

Each one listened 
to my confusion, pain, and helplessness
with loving compassion.

I needed all four of them to take a corner of my cot
and carry me to Jesus.

Something in me 
feels a bit ashamed 
that I would need four (or more) people
to get me on my feet again.

But that isn’t how Jesus sees it.
He marvels at their faith
and is grateful for my friends

and so am I.

Carry each other’s burdens and so you will fulfill the law of Christ.
–Galatians 6:2 (CEB)

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Love Mischief for the World

My friend Rod Janz has an amazing podcast series on Hints of Gladness. He is interviewing a number of friends about contemplation. In each episode, there is a guided meditation: Brent Unrau guides us into embodied presence, Deb Steinkamp invites us to meditate on a poem, and Mary Wolfe opens us to paying attention. You can hear their stories in Rod’s interviews with them here. I am proud to know these people and call them my friends too.

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:
Jesus heals the paralytic lowered through the roof. (Stained Glass, St. Colman’s Cathedral in Ireland; Image: Andreas F. Borchert, CC 4.0, via Wikimedia Commons; Note: The windows of the South Aisle featured in the Banner Image of this post also by Andreas F. Borchert and shared under CC 4.0 via Wikimedia Commons)
“Friendship” by Felipe Bastos. Used with permission.
Image of Hints of Gladness used with permission.
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