Aching for More

It’s Tuesday and I haven’t written Friday’s blog post yet. I’ve finished praying and have nothing scheduled for the rest of the morning; it’s an ideal setting to write.

Often the story has already come together, and I just need a chunk of time to get it down, but today I have nothing. I know from experience that I can’t make a story happen; it has to come to me like a spiritual awakening.

Last night I listened to James Finley talk about awakening to God. Finley, who wrote Merton’s Palace to Nowhere, said, “Thomas Merton, as a young man, was spiritually awakened to the presence of God in life itself.” Merton was awakened to the reality that he was in God and God had all he needed.

“For in him we live and move and have our being,” Finley quoted, and I ached to live more fully aware of God.

Once we’ve had a moment of spiritual awakening, Finley says,

We begin to ask ourselves: “Why do I spend so much of my life trapped like this, on the outer circumference of the inner richness of my own life? Why do I spend so much time unaware of that which alone can fulfill my heart?” This aching or longing is our teacher.

My throat throbs. I long for the inner richness of God, but I’m trapped by the inability to waken myself to it. How do I get free?

Here’s Finley’s response. We can “assume an inner stance that offers the least resistance to being overtaken by the oneness we cannot make happen.”

So I wait in this spacious morning with the One who holds all my stories.

In the morning, Lord, you hear my voice;
    in the morning I lay my requests before you
    and wait expectantly.
–Psalm 5:3 (NIV)

* * *

Love Mischief for the World

Thomas Merton (1915-1968) was a writer and Trappist monk at Our Lady of Gethsemani Abbey in Kentucky. His writings include The Seven Storey Mountain and New Seeds of Contemplation. Merton is the author of more than seventy books that include poetry, personal journals, collections of letters, social criticism, and writings on peace, justice, and ecumenism. I love this quote from Essential Writings, “Life is this simple: we are living in a world that is absolutely transparent and the divine is shining through it all the time. This is not just a nice story or a fable, it is true.”

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

Credits and References:
“Blank page, new day” by Rick Stilwell. Used with permission
James Finley quotes taken from “Interview with James Finley” and Stories of Thomas Merton.
Acts 17:28
“Eurasian blue tit” by Benjamin Balázs. Public domain.
Photo of Thomas Merton by cistercaminante. Used with permission.
© Esther Hizsa, An Everyday Pilgrim, 2017.
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 2013-2017.  http://www.estherhizsa.com
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Christ Behind Me and Before Me

Recently I received a new awareness that was liberating. Like a pilgrim summiting a mountain pass, I beheld a fresh landscape. Rolling green hills with clusters of trees and fields of wildflowers sprawled out before me.

I savoured this new way of being for ten full seconds before regret caught up to me. I looked back at the road I’d travelled and thought how much better it would have been if I’d only woken up sooner. Blame was on the heels of regret.

Now, instead of strolling leisurely into green pastures, I was weighed down with the disappointment that I had let locusts ravage my life.

Picture us, this motley band of pilgrims: Regret, Blame, Disappointment and me all pressing forward preoccupied–hardly feeling the soft grass, barely noticing the still waters–while Wonder trails behind.

We didn’t travel long before we came upon a stranger sitting on a rock. We invited him to join us. The nearest refugio would be hours away, and he seemed interested, so I told him about my new discovery and the mixed feelings that accompanied it.

The stranger listened intently. Then beginning with the prophets, he explained what the scripture said concerning this. “Isaiah says,

‘From now on I will tell you of new things,
    of hidden things unknown to you.
They are created now, and not long ago;
    you have not heard of them before today.
So you cannot say,
    “Yes, I knew of them.”‘”

Then he added, “Didn’t you say this new awareness was something given to you? How can you blame yourself for not having what had not yet been given?”

He went on to quote the prophet Joel. “And didn’t God say, ‘I will repay you for the years the locusts have eaten’? Nothing behind you has been wasted. God will redeem every bit of it.”

Wonder slipped in close and put her arm around me. My eyes were opened: I knew this man.

“Then you’re not disappointed in me, that I didn’t get here sooner?” I asked the Christ.

He laughed and shook his head.

I stood there for ten full seconds before Wonder found words for the lightness I felt: I can enjoy the person I’m becoming and still be kind to the person I was.

Christ be with me, Christ within me,
Christ behind me, Christ before me,
Christ beside me, Christ to win me,
Christ to comfort and restore me.
–St.Patrick’s Breastplate Prayer

* * *

Love Mischief for the World

Citizen Advocacy Ottawa’s Fetal Alcohol Resource Program held their First Annual Invisible Disabilities Symposium in March 2017. My friend Tanya Eichler (left), along with other Symposium Committee members from in and around Ottawa, joined together to help educate, connect and encourage individuals with invisible disabilities and those who support them and the unique challenges they experience.  Their keynote speaker was, Kim Barthel, a leading expert in sensory processing, trauma, attachment and neuroscience. See that smile? That’s how Tanya looked when she told me all about it. The event was a huge success.

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

Credits and References
“Green Valley” by Pisut Konepun. Used with permission.
Isaiah 48:6,7; Joel 2:25; Psalm 23; Luke 24:13-35.
“Resting by Visitor’s Center” by Bill Ward. Used with permission.
Banner photo: 
Vulcan Stream” by Reza. Used with permission.
Photo of Tanya Eichler used with permission.
© Esther Hizsa, An Everyday Pilgrim, 2017.
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 2013-2017.  http://www.estherhizsa.com
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Connected

I tried to lie back and relax in the underground saltwater pool but whenever I did, I began to drift toward people I didn’t know. I was afraid I’d bump against them and disturb their solace.

The Nordik spa in Gatineau, Quebec has pools, saunas, steam rooms, teepees with fire pits and hammocks with thick, cozy sleeping bags. The luxurious spa is separated into two areas. In one you’re asked to whisper; in the other–where the saltwater pool is–silence is requested.

I didn’t say a word, but when my niece heard me thrashing about, she came and stood beside me. She held onto me until I lie still, then floated me over to my sister. She put my hand in my sister’s, and there I rested peacefully in the warm water.

Anchored and released from conversation, my body let go of every care. My breath began to pray, reaching out to another “sister” thousands of miles away who was in anguish. I inhaled her sorrow and exhaled peace. Christ, at the core of my being received her pain; Christ connecting us all gave her comfort.

When I returned home, I met with the sister I’d prayed for. She told me that during one of her prayers, Jesus showed her what it meant to abide in him.

“He took me to an underground tank,” she said. “In the water, all the parts of myself that had been spinning out and away came to repose. The turmoil and pain settled, and I felt calmed around a still, central point that quieted me into optimism and light. Then and only then could I sense Christ’s presence gently pulling me along.”

I listened, fascinated by the similarities between her prayer and mine. We were indeed connected.

Abide in me as I abide in you.–John 15:4 (NRSV)

* * *

Love Mischief for the World

My sister, Sylvia, and niece, Pascale (with me above) surprised me with a trip to the Nordik Spa in Gatineau, Quebec. What a great gift after spending the day travelling. Sylvia and her husband Claude’s love mischief didn’t stop there. I had a cappuccino every morning, great meals (including linguine carbonara), and long walks. We even fit in two games of Scrabble. How good is that?

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

Credits and References
“Candles” by Pixabay. Used with permission.
“Two Hands” by SETShots. Used with permission.
Photo of my niece and me at the Nordik by Sylvia Frehner. Used with permission.
© Esther Hizsa, An Everyday Pilgrim, 2017.
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 2013-2017.  http://www.estherhizsa.com
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Awake

 Suddenly Jesus met them and said, “Greetings!” -Matthew 28:9

Suddenly you meet us–on our way from the empty tomb, in the garden, on the road to Emmaus, in a locked room, by the sea, and in the dawn of our darkest night. Your gentle voice, your delicate touch tears through the veil of our grief with sweet encounter.

How we hoped beyond reason for your lifeless body to awaken and tell us, you were only sleeping. And now you have awakened and each good and glorious breath swells our hearts with love.

Living Flame of Love

O living flame of love
that tenderly wounds my soul
in its deepest centre! Since
now you are not oppressive,
now consummate! if it be your will:
tear through the veil of this sweet encounter!

O sweet cautery,
O delightful wound!
O gentle hand! O delicate touch
that tastes of eternal life
and pays every debt!
In killing you changed death to life.

O lamps of fire!
in whose splendours
the deep caverns of feeling,
once obscure and blind,
now give forth, so rarely, so exquisitely,
both warmth and light to their Beloved.

How gently and lovingly
you wake in my heart,
where in secret you dwell alone;
and in your sweet breathing,
filled with good and glory,
how tenderly you swell my heart with love.

— St. John of the Cross

 
Credits and references:
“Transcendence” by Michael D. O’Brien. Used with permission.
“Living Flame of Love” is in The Collected Works of St. John of the Cross, translated by Kieran Kavanaugh, O.C.D. and Otilio Rodgriguez, O.C.D. with introductions by Kieran Kavanaugh, O.C.D. (ICS Publications, 1979)
Banner “The Glory of Dawn” by Chris Ballard. Used with permission.
Text originally published April 4, 2015
© Esther Hizsa, An Everyday Pilgrim, 2017.
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 2013-2017.  http://www.estherhizsa.wordpress.com
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Good and Glory

Jesus-down-from-Cross-lowf

It is finished. Jesus has died. His body is lowered down from the cross and taken to the tomb.

On Easter Saturday we hold vigil with everyone who is grieving the loss of Christ’s presence. Those bright days of miracles and laughter, of full bellies and awakened hearts are gone. Now, there is only darkness.

Into the darkness we must go.
Gone, gone is the light.

We think: if we had just prayed right, lived right, believed hard enough, we could have raised Jesus from the dead and felt his presence once more. But this dark night dispels that illusion.

Into the darkness we must go.
Gone, gone is the light.

Before he died, Jesus told his friends he would be back. Remember what John said:

The light shines in the darkness,
and the darkness has not overcome it.

Remember when Jesus said that if our children asked us for a fish, we wouldn’t give them a snake. Or if they asked for an egg, we wouldn’t give them a scorpion. He knew we would never do that and neither would his Father. God only gives good gifts. So this dark night must be a good gift, a glorious gift.

O guiding night!
O night more lovely than the dawn!

On this holy night, let us light a candle in the deep caverns of our feelings and welcome the darkness that is filled with good and glory.

candle shawn carpenter

O guiding night!
O night more lovely than the dawn!
O night that has united the Lover with his beloved,
transforming the beloved in her Lover.
“Dark Night of the Soul,” St. John of the Cross

Credits and references:
Jesus down from the cross by Michael D. O’Brien. Used with permission.
Gone is the Light by Gord Johnson on Steve Bell’s album Devotion.
John 1:5, John 14:28, Luke 11:11-13.
The phrases “deep caverns of feeling” and “filled with good and glory” from “Living Flame of Love,” This poem andDark Night of the Soul  are in The Collected Works of St. John of the Cross, translated by Kieran Kavanaugh, O.C.D. and Otilio Rodgriguez, O.C.D. with introductions by Kieran Kavanaugh, O.C.D. (ICS Publications, 1979)
Candle by Shawn Carpenter. Used with permission.
Originally published April 3, 2015.
© Esther Hizsa, An Everyday Pilgrim, 2017.
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 2013-2017.  http://www.estherhizsa.wordpress.com
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O Sacred Friend Now Wounded

Crucifixion 2 Michael O Brien

Now you are lifted up and alone, O Sacred Friend. You are every person who has ever been condemned, battered, betrayed, or abandoned. You bear all our suffering and every consequence for the suffering we caused.

“Father, forgive them; they don’t know what they’re doing.”

Forgive us, you say. Me too, you mean. Even now you see the spark of the kingdom in my intentions without justifying the outcome.

You know full well what I have done, yet when I reach my hand across time and space to touch your face, you do not flinch. I caress your hair, your cheek, your beard as you slip into death. I lay my open palm over your heart.

And all that is you flows into me, into us, into every living thing on earth.

Jesus-down-from-Cross cropped-lowf

What language shall I borrow
to thank thee, dearest friend,
for this thy dying sorrow,
t
hy pity without end?
— “O Sacred Head Now Wounded”

Credits and references:
Crucifixion 2 by Michael D. O’Brien. Used with permission.
Luke 23:34 (Msg)
Jesus down from Cross (cropped) by Michael D. O’Brien. Used with permission.
“O Sacred Head Now Wounded,” anonymous.
Banner: The Dark Night of the Soul (cropped) by Rene. Used with permission.
Originally published April 2, 2015
© Esther Hizsa, An Everyday Pilgrim, 2017.
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 2013-2017.  http://www.estherhizsa.wordpress.com
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A Smelly, Sweet Encounter

Perhaps it wasn’t until Jesus and his disciples sat down to eat their evening meal that they noticed the unpleasant aroma of street and feet. I can imagine them all, tired from the day, edgy and irritated with each other, avoiding eye contact with Jesus. Let someone else do it. And someone else did.

Jesus got up, and desiring to show them the depth of his love, took off his outer garment and got a basin of water. I’d always pictured a hush coming over the room at that point and each disciple quietly waiting their turn, but seventeenth century painter Dirck van Baburen didn’t see it that way.

In his scene, a cacophony erupts that sounds worse than their feet smell. An older disciple accuses a younger one of shirking his duty. A couple of the men lament, “How did we let this happen?” Peter argues with Jesus while Andrew interferes; Jesus argues back.

And who was going to wash their master’s feet? They likely debated about that, too.

Finally they settled down and returned to their cold dinner. Then Jesus unsettled them again. “I have set an example for you that you should do as I have done for you,” he told them.

And how did they respond? Canadians know about using their inside voice in situations like this. But not one of the disciples was Canadian.

“I’m not washing John’s feet; he already thinks he’s so special.”

“I’m not doing it.”

“Me either.”

“I’ll do it, and then I’ll wash my own.”

“You can’t wash your own, Doofus. Didn’t you hear what Jesus said? We need to take turns. I’ll draw up a roster.”

Maybe it didn’t happen like that. Maybe after they all got their feet washed and experienced Christ’s sacramental display of love, their hearts were humbled and transformed.

Maybe. Maybe not. Or maybe not completely.

Jesus, I am just like them. You washed my feet and that very night I argued with my brother, fell asleep when you asked me not to, betrayed and deserted you.

You knew that would happen, yet you washed our feet anyway.

Flames by Tassoman

O living flame of love
that tenderly wounds my soul
in its deepest center! Since
now you are not oppressive,
now consummate! if it be your will:
tear through the veil of this sweet encounter!
— “Living Flame of Love” by St. John of the Cross

 Questions for your journey into Holy Week:

  • How do you feel when you’ve had a sweet encounter with Jesus and then fall back into old patterns of behaviour?
  • What would it be like to believe that love broke through the veil and left a sweetness in your heart?
Credits and references:
“Dirty Feet” by rbairdpccam. Used with permission.
Christ Washing the Apostles’ Feet Dirck van Baburen (circa 1594/1595–1624) [Public domain], via Wikimedia Commons
John 13:1-17
“Flames” by Tassoman. Used with permission.
“Living Flame of Love” is in The Collected Works of St. John of the Cross, translated by Kieran Kavanaugh, O.C.D. and Otilio Rodgriguez, O.C.D. with introductions by Kieran Kavanaugh, O.C.D. (ICS Publications, 1979)
Originally published April 1, 2015
© Esther Hizsa, An Everyday Pilgrim, 2017.
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 2013-2017.  http://www.estherhizsa.wordpress.com
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Hosanna!

How do we respond to such an exquisite display of love?

Jesus, seated on a donkey, resolutely rides into Jerusalem knowing he will die there. Both he and the saint who is showing him the way are holding a scroll. The word written by the prophet is coming to pass as the Word-Become-Flesh writes history.

Behind Jesus, the disciples follow in a huddle, solemn determination on their faces except for the one in front–John perhaps–whose face is filled with compassion.

The curious religious leaders and people of Jerusalem crowd the gate. One with  a closed fist looks away, another open-handed welcomes, a third protectively clutches her robe. And the ancient looking children in the foreground! Three are spreading their outer garments on the path or waving palms and the fourth pulls his robe over his head. He will lay down the only piece of clothing he has on. His hosanna costs him everything, including his dignity. But no one seems to notice.

The donkey plods on.

Like everyone here, I am convinced, determined, broken-hearted, sceptical, intrigued, guarded, caught up in hope, laid bare in shame, humbly trudging forward and standing in the way.

Jesus, I’m not ready, but you comes into my Jerusalem anyway. There’s not one person in this scene that you love less than another, no one you dismiss. No part of me is too aloof, too embarrassing, too tight-fisted to be loved.

My heart swells. Hosanna! Hosanna in the highest!

palm frond by Samuel John

 How gently and lovingly
you wake in my heart. . .
how tenderly you swell my heart with love.
— “Living Flame of Love” by St. John of the Cross

Questions for your journey into Holy Week:

  • How does it feel to know that Jesus understands and welcomes every part of you?
  • How do you respond when you behold such an exquisite display of love for you?
Credits and references:
Mosaic, Einzug Christi in Jerusalem by Meister der Palastkapelle in Palermo, 1150.  [Public domain], via Wikimedia Commons”Palm Frond” by Samuel John. Used with permission.
“Living Flame of Love” is in The Collected Works of St. John of the Cross, translated by Kieran Kavanaugh, O.C.D. and Otilio Rodgriguez, O.C.D. with introductions by Kieran Kavanaugh, O.C.D. (ICS Publications, 1979)
This post was originally published March 28, 2015.
© Esther Hizsa, An Everyday Pilgrim, 2017.
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 2013-2017.  http://www.estherhizsa.wordpress.com
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The Cost of Being Known

“What was the most memorable meal you ever had?” a friend asked everyone at the dinner table.

One by one each person described an experience of eating extravagantly prepared food in an exquisite setting. But it was hard for me to listen. Many spoke of restaurants Fred and I can’t afford–or think we can’t. But it wasn’t just thinking of eating at high-end restaurants that made me anxious. I remembered a few a fancy dinners out, but I couldn’t remember what was on my plate or the pleasure I enjoyed.

I was hoping no one was keeping track of who’d said what, but then I heard, “Esther, what about you?”

I offered a vague, adequate response and the conversation continued. But that feeling of being less than–the only one who didn’t measure up–lingered. I’m not generous enough, playful enough, present enough.

That’s the cost of being with friends: you get an instant report of where you fall short. At least, I do. It made me want to retreat to where being who I am is normal, but this damned report card has followed me home.

It takes me a day or two before I can share my feelings with God. In the presence of love, I know God isn’t confronting me about my inadequacies. Something more is going on here. I sit uncomfortably waiting.

My mind drifts back over the two days I spent with these friends. I remembered the tears each time someone courageously admitted what was hard or painful for them.

A thought emerged. What if I did that? What if instead of giving an answer to fit in, I said what was really going on for me?

I pictured myself at table and this time saying, “I’ve eaten some amazing meals in my life, but I’m embarrassed to say I’ve been so distracted that I can’t clearly remember a single one.”

If I’d said that I know I would have been met with the same compassion and acceptance I felt when I heard their honesty.

The gift of being known and loved, that’s what God’s inviting me to receive.

Jesus looked at him and loved him.–Mark 10:21 (NIV)

Questions for your Lenten pilgrimage:

  • When have you felt led to tell a trusted friend what’s going for you?
  • What was it like to experience compassion and acceptance?
  • How might that open you to experience the same from God?

* * *

Love Mischief for the World

What happens when a city boy, with a pocket full of sermons, lands in a Scottish parish?

Godspeed tells of the places and people who taught me the pace of being known,” writes Matt Canlis (left). “My desire to modernize the church ground to a halt in a Scottish parish. But the first speed bump occurred in a class with Eugene Peterson, which I expected to be fresh and innovative. Instead our textbooks were dated and the lectures slow. My concern was for the future of the church. We didn’t need to slow down, the church needed to catch up!

“The second speed bump was arriving in Scotland for further education, and putting aside my dreams to plant a church. Instead, I found myself pastoring a small Scottish parish which had been founded 1600 years earlier by St. Ninian. That’s when I discovered I had entered a new seminary–the school of the parish–and my teachers were the parishioners and their ordinary lives. By God’s grace and the patient mentoring of a mature congregation, I began my real formation not just as a pastor, but as a human being.”

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

Credits and References
“Fancy Dinner” by Nick. Used with permission.
Who Am I? Multimedia art by Megan Yungwirth. Used with permission.
The photo of Matt Canlis and Alan Torrence and text is from livegodspeed. Used with permission.
© Esther Hizsa, An Everyday Pilgrim, 2017.
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 2013-2017.  http://www.estherhizsa.com
Posted in False Self, Lent, Poverty of Spirit, Reflections, Stories | Tagged , , , , , , , , , , , , | Leave a comment

Empty

Empty

Before you go to bed,
shake the dust off your feet.
Open your front door and
–with a shoe in each hand–
smack those soles together.
Like a TV preacher,
tell those demons: “Be gone!”

Before you go to bed,
empty your pockets.
Pile up your
precious portfolio of plastic,
cell phone, cash, keys,
loose change, receipts, and Kleenex.
Pull your side pockets right out.
Flick those fabric ears clean of identity.

Before you turn back the sheets,
take off those dangly earrings, necklace, bracelet, watch.
Rub your wrist till it forgets what it lugged around all day.

Before you turn out the light,
take a warm, wet cloth,
close your eyes and wash your face.
Wipe away all you heard, all you saw, all you tasted.
Brush off every word you spoke, tooth by tooth.
Gargle, spit, smile.

Before you lay your head on the pillow,
grab your ankles,
flip your body upside down and give it a shake,
hard,
like your mother did when she brought washing in from the line.
Snap out that lingering thought, that clinging regret
till it falls to the floor and rolls under the bed.

When you are
completely
empty,
pull the blankets up to your chin
and say goodnight to your life.

Go to sleep
filled with God.

Like a waterwheel of divine love, the Father empties all of himself into the Son. The Son receives and empties all of himself into the Spirit. The Spirit receives and empties all of himself /herself into the Father. The Father receives and the cycle continues. It’s no good telling people to let go if they can’t be assured they will be refilled, but the Trinity gives us a model for how that can happen. I can let go, because I trust I will always be filled up again.–Richard Rohr

Questions for your Lenten pilgrimage:

  • How might the self-emptying/filling work of God be essential for us to love our neighbours?
  • When you read the poem “Empty,” what images compelled or repelled you?
  • Which letting go would you find most difficult? Which one most satisfying?

* * *

Love Mischief for the World

My St. Stephen’s friends, Colleen Butterley (left) and Roxee Forrest are up to some great love mischief. Once a week they read to children in Kindergarten-Grade 2 at Cameron Elementary school which is in the same neighbourhood as our church. Colleen’s involvement with Cameron began when when her children, now grown, attended the school. Roxee is a retired teacher. She said to me, “Teaching was my life; it’s great to be back in the classroom again as a volunteer. I just love it.”

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

Credits and References:
Banner: Goodnight Moon written by Margaret Wise Brown and illustrated by Clement Hurd, 1947.
“Bed” by Erika Wittlieb on Pixabay. Used with permission.
A Good Night’s Sleep by 
Seán Ó Domhnaill. Used with permission.
Richard Rohr quote from Center for Action and Contemplation Meditation “Self-Emptying,” March 5, 2017,  adapted from Richard Rohr with Mike Morrell, The Divine Dance: The Trinity and Your Transformation (Whitaker House: 2016), 90-91.
 
© Esther Hizsa, An Everyday Pilgrim, 2017.
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