Adrift in an Ocean of Love

Posted on January 19, 2018 by Esther Hizsa

I’m thinking about my desire to know God’s love for me on God’s terms, not mine. James Finley said in a recent webinar Through the Dark Night, that we long for a sense of union with God that we will experience only after death. But God says, “Why wait till then?”

Summarizing writings from John of the Cross, Finley said we hear three things from God. “First of all, this cannot happen until you die to the last trace of dependency on anything else for your security and identity. Second, you can’t do this. Your survival instinct is too strong and your efforts are finite. Third, you can count on Me to wean you off of finding love on your terms.”

Finley went on to use this illustration. It’s like we are in a boat moored in a slip at the harbour. God quietly sneaks out at night and, being careful not to laugh and wake us, unties one mooring line after another and until we are set adrift.

Twenty-six years ago Fred and I were sitting on a beach one evening watching the sunset. We had spent the day at several marinas looking at sailboats built for ocean passages. Were we crazy? Should we really be selling everything, leaving life as we know it to sail off around the world?  I looked out at the darkening sky and listened to the waves crash onto the shore. My biggest fear was being offshore at night. In the darkness, the ocean seems colder, noises and fears bigger and louder.

But as you can see from the photo above, we went. We went because the pull in us to do it wouldn’t go away. And I had this crazy picture in my head of Jesus all excited, saying, “Let’s go. Come on. What are you waiting for?”

From 1992-95 our family lived on a 40-foot boat and travelled from Vancouver to Turkey, west around the world. And what do I miss most about our adventure? The serenity and beauty of being at sea in the middle of the night.

Being unmoored from all we hold onto and all that we think will give us life is scary and uncomfortable. But eventually, when we give up trying to refasten the lines that hold us back, we realize we are adrift in an ocean of love, held in the current of God.

For in Christ we live and move and have our being.
–Acts 17:28 (NIV)

* * *

Love Mischief for the World

When we let go of our mooring lines with a seven and a ten-year-old as our crew, we needed to bring along lots of books to keep them happy. One of our favourites was Where the Sidewalk Ends. We laughed our heads off and, thanks to Shel Silverstein, we could imagine sitting on them. According to Bustle.com, “These eight lines [in ‘Listen to the Mustn’ts’] pretty much sum up everything that Shel Silverstein and his children’s poetry are about—throwing off conventionality and negativity, and embracing the power of imagination and possibility. It’s not just a great message for kids—it’s a great message for everyone.” Thank you, Shel, for sharing your love-mischief with the world.

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

Credits and References:
Center for Action and Contemplation‘ s webinar, Through the Dark Night by James Finley, is not available at this time.
Photo of the Hizsa family on Tieras 1992 by Marja Bergen for the Burnaby Now
“Setting Sun, Malecon, Miraflores” by Geraint Rowland. Used with permission.
“Listen to the Mustn’ts,” Where the Sidewalk Ends by Shel Silverstein
© Esther Hizsa, An Everyday Pilgrim, 2018.
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 2013-2018.  http://www.estherhizsa.com
Posted in Mystical, Poverty of Spirit, Reflections | Tagged , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , | 2 Comments

A Glorious Thing

Posted on January 12, 2018 by Esther Hizsa

Two days before Christmas, I’m praying with the story of the shepherds. I imagine myself on a hillside with them, but I’m unaffected by the angels’ song. The shepherds hurry off to see this glorious thing that has happened, but I have no desire to go with them.

After they’ve gone, I see myself sitting alone, missing one of the most important events in history. Eventually, an angel returns and sits with me. Gently, patiently, he encourages me to go to Bethlehem.

“I’ll go with you,” he says. So we walk side by side, not saying much. We walk a long time, and I imagine what it will be like when I get there and anticipate a private moment with baby Jesus.

But when we arrive, the stable is crowded. I can’t even see inside, let alone get a glimpse of the child. I wonder what to do when a woman in the crowd, sensing my presence, turns to see who’s behind her. Her face is aglow. Whenever I see a face in the crowd, it too is aglow.

But my face isn’t glowing, and I never do get to see the baby.

Two weeks later I tell my spiritual director about the prayer. There’s something profound about being in the presence of someone who, as James Finley says, “will not invade or abandon you.” All the emotion that was absent in my prayer comes to the surface.

I blow my nose and add the wet tissue to the others on my lap. “I listened to James Finley talk about the Dark Night and infinite love, and I could feel my desire for God awaken. But much of the time, it’s asleep. It’s so easy to love other things more than God.”

“And where does that take you,” she asked.

“I feel. . . ashamed.”

“I wonder how Jesus feels about this.” She invited me to ask him.

I closed my eyes and was given a picture of Jesus holding me as if I were a newborn. Like the angel that joined me on the hillside, Jesus met me where I was and patiently waited. He loved holding me whether my eyes were open or closed, whether my desire was awake or asleep.

His eyes were fixed on me. He didn’t want to miss the glorious moment when I woke up and saw him looking at me.

Was I asleep or awake? 
I heard a voice it said, “Wait, 
I know the plans I have for you 
plans not intended to hurt or to harm you 
though struggles in life tend to get in the way 
though the path, looking back,
is more crooked than straight
though so often you find that there’s no words,
there’s no words to say.” 
–Jeremy Braacx, Night Vision

* * *

Love Mischief for the World

In a recent Center for Action and Contemplation webcast “Through the Dark Night,” James Finley explained that the purpose of a Dark Night is to detach us from loving God on our terms so God can love us on God’s terms. How can we participate in this? I’ll be talking more about that next week. But I want to leave you with a question Finley gave us: What is the most loving thing I can do in this moment?

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

Credits and References:
Luke 2:8-20
“Girl Seated on a Hillside overlooking the Water” by Winslow Homer [Public domain], via Wikimedia Commons
Photo of our son Rudy and granddaughter Hannah by Fred Hizsa. Used with permission.
“Night Vision” (based on Jeremiah 29:11) is by Jeremy Braacx, from the album The View from a Hospital Bed by Geometric Shapes (Jeremy & Heidi Braacx).
“Love” by Dustin Gaffke. Used with permission.
© Esther Hizsa, An Everyday Pilgrim, 2018.
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 2013-2018.  http://www.estherhizsa.com
Posted in Christmas, Praying with the Imagination, Reflections, Spiritual Direction, Stories | Tagged , , , , , , , , , , , , | Leave a comment

The Underside

Posted on January 5, 2018 by Esther Hizsa

Christmas Day jangled me into another dimension. I found myself on “the underside,” living in a parallel universe where survival meant the monsters (anything and everything that causes me stress) had to be contained. Not an easy few days for Fred.

If you’ve watched Stranger Things, you can picture my metaphor. In Season One of this Netflix series, a boy is lost in The Upside Down (or underside) and his friends are trying to find a portal into it. Eventually, the boy’s mother and the police chief don hazmat suits and, with flashlights and a gun, go through a portal looking for him. The Upside Down is predictably macabre.

My underside was not so cold and creepy, but it did make me tense and fearful. When my eyes adjusted to the dark, I saw what was going on. I saw that being a good person doesn’t mean I make good choices, and I saw how easily I make bad ones. I saw how vexation was my monster, and also saw it’s not everyone’s. Some people can live quite easily with things askew. Topside I forget I’m not one of them, but on the underside, there’s no hiding from it. I see how it rattles me.

What brought me back to this universe were conversations with friends. In one conversation, we got talking about the Enneagram, and I was reminded that Ones like me can’t stand vexation. In another, three friends described their Christmas. They too found it chaotic and were almost pushed over the edge. Hearing this helped me normalize what I’d experienced without minimizing it.

Christmas Day taught me that I should carefully consider my level of responsibility in putting on events, knowing that things can and do go wrong. Although I have a better understanding of how stress affects me, vigilantly avoiding this monster will suck me underside again. Knowing how to handle stress is tricky, and I can’t do it alone. I need the guidance of the Spirit and the counsel of friends.

Once you’ve been on the underside, you don’t forget what you saw, and that makes topside living a lot more real. I begin this new year with greater self-awareness and a deeper appreciation for my Saviour and my friends.

A friend loves at all times, and kinsfolk are born to share adversity.
–Proverbs 17:17 (NRSV)

* * *

Love Mischief for the World

We all end up on the underside at different times of our lives. No matter where we are on the Enneagram, we are tempted to avoid, numb or amuse ourselves until we’re topside again and blissfully unaware of our shadows. Resisting temptation and facing our demons takes a lot of courage. We need the love mischief of friends who will walk with us through a dark valley. When we are loved “warts and all,” our way becomes lighter and our hearts more spacious. We find we have a little more compassion for ourselves. And when we are topside again, we discover we have a lot more compassion for others.

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

Credits and References:
“Stranger Things” by Greg2600. Used with permission.
“Friendship” by Felipe Bastos. Used with permission.
“Walk in Woods” by Anne Yungwirth. Used with permission.
© Esther Hizsa, An Everyday Pilgrim, 2018.
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 2013-2018.  http://www.estherhizsa.com
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A Celebration Fit for a Down-to-Earth King

Posted on December 29, 2017 by Esther Hizsa

For a number of years now, Fred and I have hosted a Christmas meal for a dozen or so people on Christmas Day at New Life Community Church. Our guests are folks from the Wednesday Lunch Club who would be otherwise alone on Christmas Day. Regular volunteers who would also be alone that day help prepare the meal and clean up.

Whenever anyone asks me how I spend Christmas Day and hears about this, they think it’s a lovely idea, and I do too. But I always forget how much work it is and how easily I get stressed out when something unexpected happens.

This year I was blindsided by nine (I counted them) eventualities that nearly put me over the edge–including the security alarm going off twice, no heat and a new thermostat without instructions, and a last-minute delivery of eight boxes of fresh food. Except for the ten minutes, I sat down to eat my meal–which was incredibly delicious–I was not able to relax and enjoy myself. It saddened me that I wasn’t the only one who went home exhausted and re-thinking how and why we do this.

So don’t believe me if I tell you Christmas was fine this year. We loved spending Christmas Eve with our daughter and her family, but Christmas day was a bust, and I didn’t sleep well that night.

On the Feast of Stephen (aka Boxing Day), Fred and I slept in. We read a story a friend wrote during Advent and talked about it on the way to an open house where I received much sympathy for what happened the day before. Afterwards, we strolled along the Fraser River. Then  Fred had a nap and I went back to the church to put a few things away. While I did, I had a good visit with a friend who’d had a difficult Christmas.

Back home, I got out a bottle of wine, lit the Advent and Christmas candles, put on Steve Bell’s Keening for the Dawn, and Fred and I sat down to reheated turkey dinner leftovers. The meal was just as delicious as it had been the day before.

And that’s how we celebrated our Saviour’s birth.

This is my little town,
My Bethlehem,
And here, if anywhere,
My Christ Child
Will be born.
— from “Housekeeper” by Elizabeth Rooney

* * *

Love Mischief for the World

If your Bethlehem is like mine, you’ve seen cold, wet folks with cardboard signs asking for help. A friend put me on to a great idea. Carry a few pairs of socks to give away. Tuck inside them anything you want: a soft granola bar, a favourite poem, a gift card, or chocolate. Then give them to people who need them. The next time you put on a fresh pair of socks, you’ll remember someone else who got to do the very same thing.

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

Credits and References:
“Dishes” by Chef Keen/Pixabay. Creative Commons.
“The Adoration of the Shepherds” by Lorenzo Lotto [Public domain], via Wikimedia Commons
“Typical Socks” by Jsm193 (Own work) [Public domain], via Wikimedia Commons
© 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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The Word Became Flesh

Posted on December 24, 2017 by Esther Hizsa

Emmanuel

when Jesus came
he didn’t sneak in
through the back door
of poverty selling
magic tricks for
applause

no

Jesus came poor
entered every day
of every life
and never
left

The Word became flesh and blood,
    and moved into the neighbourhood.
We saw the glory with our own eyes,
    the one-of-a-kind glory,
    like Father, like Son,
Generous inside and out,
    true from start to finish.
-John 1:14 (The Message)

Credits and References:
“Emmanuel” by Esther Hizsa © 2014
“Nativity”  by violscraper. Used with permission.
“Star Walkers” by Paul Kline. (Banner not visible on home page). 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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Advent IV: Love

Posted on December 22, 2017 by Esther Hizsa

Our faith tells us that the infinite love that is the architect of our hearts has made our hearts in such a way that nothing less than an infinite love will put to rest the restless longings of our hearts. –James Finley

So this is where the restless longing of my heart is taking me: to say yes to infinite love. And that divine restlessness is continuously stirred as I witness a daily display of my own inability to do it. I’m worn down from trying to get myself out of all that entangles me. But the Incarnation tells me that God comes into my dark entanglements and is born in me there. God with us awakens us to God in us.

A hymn comes to mind.

O Love that will not let me go,
I rest my weary soul in thee;
I give thee back the life I owe,
That in thine ocean depths its flow
May richer, fuller be.

O Light that foll’west all my way,
I yield my flick’ring torch to thee;
My heart restores its borrowed ray,
That in thy sunshine’s blaze its day
May brighter, fairer be.

O Joy that seekest me through pain,
I cannot close my heart to thee;
I trace the rainbow through the rain,
And feel the promise is not vain,
That morn shall tearless be.

O Cross that liftest up my head,
I dare not ask to fly from thee;
I lay in dust life’s glory dead,
And from the ground there blossoms red
Life that shall endless be.
–George Matheson, pub.1882

I looked up the lyrics and learned what led Matheson to write this song. He writes,

“My hymn was composed in the manse of Innellan on the evening of the 6th of June, 1882. . . . Something happened to me, which was known only to myself, and which caused me the most severe mental suffering. The hymn was the fruit of that suffering. It was the quickest bit of work I ever did in my life. I had the impression rather of having it dictated to me by some inward voice than of working it out myself.”

Love comes in our suffering–when our souls are weary, our torch barely flickers, and life’s glory dead. Love comes and does not let us go. Love holds us in the dark night and makes it bright and fair–more lovely than the dawn, said John of the Cross.

In the longest nights of the year, may something happen to you that allows your soul to rest, opens your heart to Infinite Love, and lifts up your head.

Oh, night that guided me, 
Oh, night more lovely than the dawn,
Oh, night that joined Beloved with lover, 
Lover transformed in the Beloved!
–St. John of the Cross

 Some Advent Love Mischief:

  • What does your restless longing for Infinite Love look like?
  • When do you feel it most?
  • How might you welcome God in it?
Credits and References:
“Trevlig fjärde advent!” by Susanne Nilsson.Used with permission.
History of “O Love that Wilt Not Let Me Go” by George Matheson (1842-1906)
“The Nativity” 1890-1910 by Franz Mayer & Co (detail) photo by Plum leaves. Used with permission.
Quote from the poem “The Dark Night of the Soul” by St. John of the Cross, tr E. Allison Peers.
© 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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Advent III: Joy

Posted on December 15, 2017 by Esther Hizsa

This Advent I’ve been enjoying short films from The Work of the People that speak of this season of waiting. They invite me to be unravelled, to hold my cup of longing and not go around it, to welcome the stranger, and to make Advent traditions that help me welcome Christ into the reality of my life.

I just finished watching O Come, Emmanuel and, though it is sad, I’m filled with a quiet, satisfied joy. Every December I’ve felt alone and misunderstood while others get into the Christmas spirit and those who don’t are labelled grinchy or depressed. But now I discover there are many people out there like me in this season–not depressed or grinchy but feeling the ache of our need for God.

This ache comes unbidden. I notice it when there’s a flow I can’t enter into yet cannot escape. It rises from a myriad of experiences that leave me convinced that I’m not enough: not kind enough, patient enough, devoted enough, not you-name-it enough. When I was younger, I’d do whatever necessary to prove it wasn’t true. But not now. I’d rather just admit it: I’m not good enough and need God to ransom me.

I knew other people were irritated too by the thought of filling that deep ache with busyness and tinsel. I thought they were few and far between, but this year they’re coming out of the woodwork. They’re writing and singing about their unfulfilled longing, bringing it to spiritual direction, taking it on retreat or to the communion rail. When I see them, like Elizabeth, something inside me leaps for joy and, like Mary, I know I’m not alone in the waiting.

So I’m jumping into the flow of kindred pilgrims and naming the Advent traditions I’ve vicariously received.

This is our Christmas tree. Fred added the one decoration: a tiny lost mitten.  That says it all for me.

I’m not trying to resolve the tension between observing Advent and celebrating Christmas. I’ll attend parties and sing carols before Dec 25 and welcome the feelings evoked in the messiness and glory.

I want to slow down and take spacious days, like I did last Saturday, to allow God to name and settle my troubled soul or accompany me as I make preparations to celebrate Christ’s birth.

I’ll spend Christmas with the family and friends I’m given.

And I will give thanks for the company of my Christmas cactus still silently blooming.

Rejoice! Rejoice!
Emmanuel shall come to thee, O Israel.

Some Advent Love Mischief:

  • How are you being invited to live into your unfulfilled longings?
  • How is God walking with you as you hold the tension between waiting with a deep ache and preparing to celebrate the coming of Christ?
  • What joy has God surprised you with this Advent?
Credits and References:
“Trevlig tredje advent!” by Susanne Nilsson.Used with permission.
“H’s Christmas Tree” by Fred Hizsa. Used with permission.
Photo of the Schlumbergera (Christmas Cactus)[File:Cactus de noël rev.jpg|Cactus de noël rev] is from Wikipedia Commons.
© 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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Advent II: Peace

Posted on December 12, 2017 by Esther Hizsa

I looked around the sanctuary artfully decorated for Christmas and remembered the woman who bought the stars that hung from the ceiling. I knew every person in the brass ensemble except. . . was that Simone all grown up?

I dropped off my chilli for the potluck dinner in the kitchen. It was bustling with people with no time to talk–people with whom I have served and prayed.

Every December New Life Community Church has a special evening to honour volunteers in their community ministries. Although I have not attended the church since my position as associate pastor ended at the end of 2014, I still volunteer weekly with the Wednesday Lunch Club, an outreach for those who are homeless or at risk of homelessness.

People seemed to be enjoying each other’s conversations, but mine never seemed to get much past, how have you been? I was relieved when it was time to go home.

The next day was beautiful and sunny. Mt.Lehman Winery was having a case lot sale, so Fred and I headed out to Abbotsford and got a couple of cases, filled our tank with gas, went for a walk by the Fraser River and had coffee in Fort Langley. In the leisurely day, Fred listened as I unpacked the previous evening and my discomfort in it.

“I’m glad we’re at St.Stephen’s and don’t feel conflicted about our decision to leave New Life,” I said at one point. Then at another, “I guess it’s just the feeling that I don’t belong there anymore and people’s lives are going on without us. That feels sad.”

Back home again, I was measuring cereal for my third double batch of Nuts and Bolts when it occurred to me that I was grieving a loss.

Knowing that settled me.

. . . darkness was over the surface of the deep, and the Spirit of God was hovering over the waters. –Genesis 1:2

Some Advent Love Mischief:

  • What is unsettling you these days?
  • How might the Holy Spirit be hovering over you and bringing you peace?
Credits and References:
“Trevlig 2:a advent!” by Susanne Nilsson.Used with permission.
“Hover” by Barry Stock. 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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Advent I: Hope

Posted on December 8, 2017 by Esther Hizsa

Hope

God, you come
like the persistent widow
and knock on my door.
You keep knocking,
wearing me down with your pleas
until I do right.

You come
like the friend at midnight
calling me out of bed
to give my neighbour what they need.

You keep coming
like the good shepherd who
sees I want for nothing,
fills my cup to overflowing,
and tirelessly nudges,
“Wake up.”

I open one eye
and like
the unjust judge,
the put out neighbour,
the mindless sheep,
I do what you want.

You wait,
like the five wise virgins
with an endless supply of oil,
for both eyes to open.

Therefore, keep awake–for you do not know when the master of the house will come, in the evening, or at midnight, or at cockcrow, or at dawn, or else he may find you asleep when he comes suddenly. And what I say to you I say to all: Keep awake. –Mark 13:35-37

Some Advent Love Mischief:

  • What has God been nudging you to do that you don’t want to?
  • How is this nudge different from the other “shoulds” in your life?
  • What might you see this Advent when you open both eyes? What is God awakening you to?
Credits and References:
“The First Sunday of Advent” by Susanne Nilsson. Used with permission.
Luke 18:1-8, Luke 11, 5-8, Psalm 23, Matthew 25:1-13
“Ten Virgins 07” by Waiting For The Word. 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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New Coins in My Pocket

Posted on December 1, 2017 by Esther Hizsa

At some point, the desperate need to shout fell away as if it were a worthless coin. It’s not that I didn’t want to be heard or at times stay awake at night plotting how I might be heard. But one day I reached into my pocket and found new coins.

These coins gave me the freedom to choose to say nothing.  I pulled them out and examined them with awe. I could be misunderstood and do nothing.

I spent a coin whenever my inner teacher tugged my sleeve and said, “Let it go.”

I also discovered I could spend one when I wanted to be safe and be liked. But, my inner teacher would have none of that.

One afternoon, at a monthly gathering of my peers, I needed to be heard, not for my benefit but for theirs. As gently as I could, I spoke up and interrupted the process–more than once. My confidence could have been interpreted as arrogance and my persistence as pushy. But I found the coin that let me be misunderstood and spent it. I kept asking the questions my inner teacher fed me and hoped that God would do something with them.

God did and it was beautiful to behold.

I’ve been reading A Hidden Wholeness by Parker Palmer who encourages me to live an undivided life. He wrote, “The divided life is a wounded life, and the soul keeps calling us to heal the wound.” I’ve spent my life shouting to be heard and I’ve felt ashamed of it. But now I see that my soul was shouting to be healed.

When I was given a voice, I didn’t need to shout anymore. But choosing to be silent in order to be nice or accepted divides me from myself.

Parker Palmer says we all have an “inner teacher whose guidance is more reliable than anything we can get from a doctrine, ideology, collective belief system, or leader.” And my inner teacher is telling me: To live out of my hidden wholeness means saying what needs to be said even at the risk of being disliked or dismissed.

While I kept silence, my body wasted away
    through my groaning all day long.
–Psalm 32:3 (NRSV)

* * *

Love Mischief for the World

This Men’s Bible Study group from Mount Olivet Church in Plymouth in Minnesota are up to some great love mischief for the world. They used my blog post Autumn Leaves to explore the subjects of change, loss. insecurity and letting go. Thanks, guys, for listening to your souls and living out of your hidden wholeness.

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:
Photo of man with coin by Thomas Leuthard (2008-2017). Used with permission.
“Coins” by Jeff Milner. Used with permission.
Quotes from A Hidden Wholeness by Parker Palmer, pg 20, 25.
Photo from Mount Olivet Lutheran Church in Plymouth, Minnesota by Ron 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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