Eight Weeks to the Promised Land

Posted on November 7, 2014 by Esther Hizsa

Are you wondering how I am doing since the big announcement? (If you didn’t hear the news, I will not be working at New Life Community Church after December 31. You can read more about that here).

I too wondered how I would fare in the sea of responses. I kept waiting for a wave to broadside me. Would someone be angry with me? Would others be relieved that I was stepping down?

But it’s gone smoothly. Many people expressed their appreciation for what I have done for them personally and for our church. Some kindly ask how Fred and I will make ends meet. Most are inspired by my willingness to follow God’s call to be less busy.

But I haven’t slowed down yet. In fact, the pace has picked up. I long for the solitude and leisure that is eight weeks away and get anxious thinking about all that needs to be done before then. My prayer times are rushed and unfocused. I pray in the cracks. Deadlines have me trapped and feeling like the Israelites caught between Pharaoh’s army and the Red Sea. I need the outrageous faith Moses had. He believed: God loves us. God is here. God will act. And God did.

Mose red sea

But Moses wasn’t always so confident. Like me, he got overwhelmed by all he was expected to do. When he complained to the Lord, God comforted him.

 Moses said to the Lord, “See, you have said to me, ‘Bring up this people’; but you have not let me know whom you will send with me. Yet you have said, ‘I know you by name, a nd you have also found favour in my sight.’  Now if I have found favour in your sight, show me your ways, so that I may know you and find favour in your sight. Consider too that this nation is your people.”

 He said, “My presence will go with you, and I will give you rest.”
– Exodus 33:12-14

I complained too and God parted the sea that threatened to separate us: just in time, a friend brought me these verses from Exodus to comfort me. They gave me the confidence to continue on toward the Red Sea.

Eight weeks to the Promised Land.

Just Sit There Right Now
– Hafiz

Just
Sit there right now.
Don’t do a thing. Just rest.

For your
Separation from God
Is the hardest work in this world.

Let me bring you trays of food and something
That you like to
Drink.

You can use my soft words
As a cushion
For your
Head.

Credits:
Crossing the Red Sea by St. Takla Haymanout Coptic Orthodox Community 
“Just Sit There Right Now” by Hafiz (1325–1389) translated by Daniel Ladinsky in Love Poems from God, 2002. Used with permission.
Banner (not visible on home page) “Sitting in Silence” by Alice Popkorn. Used with permission.
© Esther Hizsa, An Everyday Pilgrim, 2014.
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, 2014  http://www.estherhizsa.wordpress.com.
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Night Crossing

Posted on October 31, 2014 by Esther Hizsa

Imagine you are in your favourite place, the instructions for the prayer read. Perhaps it is on a beach or in a cosy cabin. What do you see, hear, feel, taste, smell? Are you alone or with others? After you have relaxed there for a while, picture Jesus entering the scene. Let the Holy Spirit take it from there and see what unfolds.

I put down my cup of tea and settled myself cross-legged on the couch in the afternoon sun. Heidi was napping in her crib and Rudy at kindergarten.

night_sailing

I closed my eyes and pictured myself at the bow of Kimmeridge, the twenty-seven foot sailboat we used to own. Fred was at the helm and our little ones asleep. The gentle winds filled the mainsail and jib; the night sky was clear and the salt air cool. I zipped up my fleece and rested my forearms on the lifelines. My bare feet dangled over the side not far from the water. The only sounds came from the slosh of the waves and ting-ting of the rigging.

I was alone and then I wasn’t. Jesus, looking like he did in the pictures with long hair and a white robe, sat right beside me.

I swallowed, took a deep breath and said, “Hi.”

“Hello,” he said. “Nice night.”

“Yes, it is.”

This was my big chance. I could ask Jesus anything I wanted. I looked up at the Big Dipper and the pockmarked moon. I remembered that Jesus was with God in the beginning and that through him all things were created.

“What were you thinking about when you made the moon and the stars?” I asked.

Night sky oil painting

“What was I thinking about?” Jesus turned to face me. “I was thinking of the night you and I would be sitting here together looking at them.”

My heart thumped in my throat and a tear slid down my cheek. I never guessed he was going to say that.

When I opened my eyes, the world was as it was before. My tea was still warm and Heidi still asleep. Would she notice when she woke up? And when I picked up Rudy from school or welcomed Fred home from work, would they see that I was not the same person I was when they left?

 On the wings of the wind, You did come.
-Psalm 18:10
Psalms for Praying by Nan C. Merrill

Credits and references:
Night Sailing by Ian Hoar.
John 1: 1-3
Night Sky by Jessica Gardner. Used with permission.
The Starry Night by Vincent van Gogh
© Esther Hizsa, An Everyday Pilgrim, 2014.
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, 2014  http://www.estherhizsa.wordpress.com.
Posted in Ignatian Spirituality, Mystical, Praying with the Imagination, Stories | Tagged , , , , , , , , , , , , | 1 Comment

Just Be Still

Posted on October 24, 2014 by Esther Hizsa

moonbeams Jessie Wilcox Smith

“Be still, and know that I am God,” says the psalmist.

Nearly every Thursday evening, our contemplative group gathers to do just that. Of course there is time for fellowship, reflection and songs, but we also pray in silence for twenty minutes.

Over the years, people in the group have commented on how hard it is to sit still and fend off distractions or sleep. (At the end of an evening, we have ribbed one or two friends who nodded off and began to snore.)  As difficult as it is to practice this type of prayer, no one has ever suggested that we give it up.

I think it is because each of us longs to fully know and fully love God directly, without needing the mediation of words, images, or feelings. The Spirit has awakened in us “a naked intent toward God.” We long to rest in God alone and commune with our Creator in the core of our being.  That communing transforms us.

It’s not easy for most people to wrap their minds around the idea that they can be transformed simply by resting. We often assume that personal growth only happens as a result of hard work and determination.

Knit Together by Kelly Dycavinu © 2011

But, think about it. What happened after you were conceived? For nine months you did nothing to make yourself grow. All you did was rest and receive nourishment and loving caresses. Or think of how your body is refreshed between falling asleep at night and waking up in the morning. Immeasurably more than we can imagine happens when we rest in God.

The anonymous fourteenth century author of The Cloud of Unknowing says,

You will seem to know nothing and to feel nothing except a naked
intent toward God in the depths of your being. Try as you might,
this darkness and this cloud will remain between you and your God.
You will feel frustrated, for your mind will be unable to grasp him,
and your heart will not relish the delight of his love. But learn to be
at home in this darkness. Return to it as often as you can, letting
your spirit cry out to him in love. For if, in this life, you hope to feel
and see God as he is in himself, it must be within this darkness and
this cloud. But if you strive to fix your love on him forgetting all else,
which is the work of contemplation I have urged you to begin, I am
confident that God in his goodness will bring you to a deep experience
of himself. 

And that, my friends agree, is worth sitting still for.

God can do anything, you know
—far more than you could ever imagine
or guess or request in your wildest dreams!
He does it not by pushing us around
but by working within us,
his Spirit deeply and gently within us.
         -Ephesians 3:20 (The Message)

 

References and credits:
Psalm 46:10
Moonbeams by Jessie Wilcox Smith (September 6, 1863 – May 3, 1935)
Knit Together by Kelly Dycavinu © 2011. Used with permission.
Italicized excerpt is from The Cloud of Unknowing, Author unknown, edited by William Johnston, 1973 (p. 48, 49).
© Esther Hizsa, An Everyday Pilgrim, 2014.
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, 2014  http://www.estherhizsa.wordpress.com.
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That Which Is Lost Within Me

Posted on October 17, 2014 by Esther Hizsa

Her Photographic Memory, William-Adolphe Bouguereau

On October 5, an announcement was made to the congregation that my employment at New Life Community Church would end on December 31.

A few days before, I was writing last week’s post. Nervous about the coming change, I reached for the hand that stilled the storm.

Often I am unaware of the storms in my life; thankfully, God isn’t. God has the advantage of being both near and far. Up close the Holy Spirit sees, feels, and hears what is going on inside me; from above God views where I have been and where I am heading. The Spirit has noticed the long hours I’ve been putting in, how I’ve neglected my bicycle, Gracie, and how often I comfort myself with food.

At the SoulStream partners’ retreat in June, I had many conversations with friends, catching up on the past year’s events. I told them I will be helping facilitate SoulStream’s spiritual formation course and that I have completed my training to be able to give the Ignatian spiritual exercises and hope to accompany one or two people through them.

“Yes. I am still working at the church half-time,” I explained. “And, oh yeah, I launched a blog last summer. I post a story or reflection every Friday.” After finding out what I’d been up to, each person commented with a tone of concern that I was doing a lot.

Are you hearing that? the Holy Spirit seemed to say, sharing their concern.

I thought about my three vocations: writing, spiritual direction, and pastoring.  Olympian Eric Liddell once said that he felt God’s pleasure when he ran. I feel God’s pleasure when I write or accompany someone in spiritual direction. But these endeavours often get pushed to the side. My third occupation, providing leadership in a church, demands most of my time and energy. It also pays the bills.

Sunday morning, as the retreat came to a close, we gathered for worship. John Kiemele, our director, read a poem. He invited us to listen for the line in the poem that stood out for us.

These words brought tears to my eyes: The risen, living Christ… seeks for that which is lost within me.

I knew what was lost within me: the “me” that I am on vacation when I don’t have to be a pastor. The risen Christ wanted to lift the heavy cloak of responsibility from my shoulders. He was whispering, Go. Be free.

Over the next few months, I imagined what it would be like not to be rushed all the time. I longed for a generous amount of time to rest, write, and ride my bike. By the end of the summer, Fred and I were certain that Jesus was asking me to step down as associate pastor of New Life.

When I talked about it with the elders, they confirmed my decision in a very practical way: the church doesn’t have the financial resources to keep me on staff.

It’s not easy to leave church work that I love or the paycheck that comes with it. But I can’t do it all without getting lost in a din of activity. Jesus sought for me in the successive storms of busyness and lifted his hand.

Jesus-calms-the-storm-sisters-turvey-abbey

The risen, living Christ
calls me by my name;
comes to the loneliness within me;
heals that which is wounded in me;
comforts that which grieves in me;
seeks for that which is lost within me;
releases me from that which has dominion over me;
cleanses me of that which does not belong to me;
renews that which feels drained within me;
awakens that which is asleep in me;
names that which is formless within me;
empowers that which is newborn within me;
consecrates and guides that which is strong within me;
restores me to this world which needs me;
reaches out in endless love to others through me.
~Flora Slosson Wuellner

Credits and references:
Painting by William-Adolphe Bouguereau (November 30, 1825 – August 19, 1905) photo by Thomas Hawke.
Used with permission.
Eric Liddell quote
Jesus Calms the Storm © 2000 The Benedictine Sisters of Turvey Abbey and McCrimmon Publishing Co. Ltd (UK) Used with permission of www.mccrimmons.com.
“The risen, living Christ” was reprinted from Prayer, Fear, and Our Powers: Finding Our Healing, Release, and Growth in Christ by Flora Slosson Wuellner. Copyright © 1989. Used by permission of Upper Room Books.
© Esther Hizsa, An Everyday Pilgrim, 2014.
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, 2014  http://www.estherhizsa.wordpress.com.
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The Hand that Stilled the Storm

Posted on October 10, 2014 by Esther Hizsa

Hold On by Luc De LeeuwLately Jesus has been inviting me to hold his hand as we walk through life together. That reminds me of something that happened when Heidi was born. She was delivered as planned by caesarean section a week before the due date. Since I had been working as a nurse in the hospital where she was to be born, I knew all the medical staff and got to hand-pick the operating room team. The anaesthetist I chose to give me the epidural was especially proficient but had a cold bed-side manner.

April 18, 1985, I lay on the operating room table draped and prepped with antiseptic. As soon as the anaesthetist determined I had no feeling in the lower part of my body, the surgeon made the incision. A few minutes later the general practitioner brought Heidi into the world, joyfully announcing, “It’s a girl!”

A girl! I heard her beautiful cry and imagined her wet, wrinkly body. Finally, the nurse let me see Heidi all wrapped up and perfect. Then she was taken out to Fred, who was anxiously waiting in the hall.

Meanwhile, I was stuck in the operating room with an IV in one arm, a blood pressure cuff around the other, and the surgical team hovering over the open wound in my abdomen. The tedious process of closing me up and the drugs in my body made me restless. I kept wanting to turn onto my side, but knew I couldn’t. A tempest of jittery energy was trapped in my body.

I knew that if someone held my hand, I’d be okay. But who would do that? The doctors and nurses were busy. The one hand available belonged to the anaesthetist who sat idly by watching the drip.

No. Not him.

But the restlessness wouldn’t abate. I looked up and said, “Would you hold my hand?”

He looked back quizzically. “Why?”

Christ calms the storm Fr lawrence Lew, O.P.Before I could come up with an answer, the anaesthetist found my hand and clumsily held it in his. As soon as he did, a wave of calm rolled down my arm and stilled the churning in my body.

Peace returned and rest and wonder.

I think about that memory and wonder why Jesus has brought it to mind.

What new birth are you bracing me for, God? What needs settling? I ask as I nervously reach for the hand that stilled the storm.

He got up, rebuked the wind and said to the waves,
“Quiet! Be still!” Then the wind died down and it
was completely calm. – Mark 4:39

 

Credits:
“Hold On” by Luc De Leeuw. Detail of a stained glass window representing Father Damian and a leper. Used with permission.
“Christ Calms the Storm” by Fr Lawrence Lew, O.P.. Used with permission.
© Esther Hizsa, An Everyday Pilgrim, 2014.
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, 2014  http://www.estherhizsa.wordpress.com.
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Walking with Jesus

Posted on October 3, 2014 by Esther Hizsa

Cirque Peak BanffLately I have been beginning my day with Pray as you go In these short on-line reflections, I am often asked to imagine myself with Jesus and interact with him.

One morning I was one of the women who followed Jesus. When I got close to him, I waited for Jesus to speak, but he didn’t say anything. He just took my hand in his and we walked on.

I returned to that image during a prayer retreat a few days later. In the silence I pictured myself walking hand in hand with Jesus again. I wondered what might unfold, when all of a sudden Jesus squeezed my hand like Fred does. It means: Stop. Look.

There was a deer in the bushes. She grazed so unafraid; did she even notice us? At that moment she stopped chewing and looked at us.  A sense of holiness rippled through me.

After the deer went on her way, Jesus and I resumed walking. Where were we going? I felt that stop look squeeze again. Someone was coming toward us. Groan. I didn’t feel like talking to anyone. Not then.

Jesus let go of my hand and stepped in front of me so that I was hidden behind him.

Christian Asuh artist“Hey, how’s it going?” Jesus began a conversation that kept the person from noticing my presence. I listened and waited for the conversation to end, but it went on for some time. As it did, I leaned my head against Jesus’s back and listened to the “Uh-huhs” reverberate in his chest. His compassion made my heart soften toward the traveller, but I felt no compunction to be sociable.

Finally the person went on and, when out of sight, Jesus took my hand once more. I returned to the question I had on the road and also in life. Where are we going?

Then I realized, it didn’t matter.

 


Jesus, with you by my side
enough has been given.
– Soul of Christ Prayer by David L. Fleming, S.J.

Credits:
“Strolling with My Honey  up Cirque Peak, Banff National Park” by Fred Hizsa. Used with permission.
Painting of Jesus by Christian Asuh, 2005
Soul of Christ Prayer by David L. Fleming, S.J.
© Esther Hizsa, An Everyday Pilgrim, 2014.
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, 2014  http://www.estherhizsa.wordpress.com.
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DIY Prayer Retreat #1: What God Has Given, What God Is Doing

Posted on October 1, 2014 by Esther Hizsa

to have a morning... by TravisIntroduction:
For a couple of years our contemplative group has been having one-day prayer retreats that are simple, wonderful and free. Up to eight of us have gotten together at one time. We bring our own lunch and meet for a morning or a day at a participant’s home who provides tea and coffee.

In the first half hour, the day’s facilitator (one of the people attending) shares with the group a scripture passage as well as a reflective reading, song, poem or picture and some reflective questions. Then we disperse into different rooms or nooks in the house while maintaining silence.

During the two to four hours of silence, we take walks, knit, journal and, of course, pray. Using cell phones, the internet or reading (even spiritual books) is discouraged. For the last hour of the retreat, we gather again. Each person is given an opportunity to share confidentially with the others what came out of the day. Listeners are asked to hold what is shared as a gift without giving advice or telling their own stories. Then we are invited to pray for each other.

If you would like to have a prayer retreat with a friend or two, feel free to use this outline I put together for a recent retreat (below). Let me know if you have any questions.

Sitting in Silence by Alice Popkorn

 What God Has Given, What God Is Doing                 

Being Here:

Blessed Trinity,
I receive your love, your presence, and this day as a gift from you.
I open my heart to you.
Please lead me deeper into your transforming love as we live these next hours together.
Amen.
     -Morning Prayer of SoulStream Community 

Beholding the One beholding you, and smiling:

God can get tiny, if we’re not careful. I’m certain we all have an image of God that becomes the touchstone, the controlling principle, to which we return when we stray.

My touchstone image of God comes by way of my friend and spiritual director, Bill Cain, S.J.  Years ago he took a break from his own ministry to care for his father as he died of cancer. His father had become a frail man, dependent on Bill to do everything for him. Though he was physically not what he had been, and the disease was wasting him away, his mind remained alert and lively. In the role reversal common to adult children who care for their dying parents, Bill would put his father to bed and then read him to sleep, exactly as his father had done for him in childhood. Bill would read from some novel, and his father would lie there staring at his son smiling.

Bill was exhausted from the day’s care and work and would plead with his dad, “Look, here’s the idea. I read to you, you fall asleep.” Bill’s father would impishly apologize and dutifully close his eyes. But this wouldn’t last long. Soon enough, Bill’s father would pop one eye open and smile at his son.

Bill would catch him and whine, “Now, come on.” The father would, again oblige, until he couldn’t anymore, and the other eye would open to catch a glimpse of his son. This went on and on and after his father’s death, Bill knew that this evening ritual was really a story of a father who just couldn’t take his eyes off his kid. How much more so God. Anthony de Mello writes, “Behold the One beholding you, and smiling.”

God would seem to be too occupied in being unable to take Her eyes off us to spend any time raising an eyebrow in disapproval. What’s true of Jesus is true for us, and so this voice breaks through the clouds and comes straight at us. “You are my Beloved, in whom I am wonderfully pleased.” There is not much “tiny” in that.
– Gregory Boyle, SJ., Tattoos on the Heart: The Power of Boundless Compassion

Love’s Invitation to receive God’s good gifts:

Jesus said, “Don’t bargain with God. Be direct. Ask for what you need. This isn’t a cat-and-mouse, hide-and-seek game we’re in. If your child asks for bread, do you trick him with sawdust? If he asks for fish, do you scare him with a live snake on his plate? As bad as you are, you wouldn’t think of such a thing. You’re at least decent to your own children. So don’t you think the God who conceived you in love will be even better?”
– Matthew 7:7-11  (The Message)

Love’s Invitation to give your entire attention to what God is doing right now:

A Daisy Day in May by Brent MJesus said, “If God gives such attention to the appearance of wild flowers—most of which are never even seen—don’t you think he’ll attend to you, take pride in you, do his best for you? What I’m trying to do here is to get you to relax, to not be so preoccupied with getting, so you can respond to God’s giving. People who don’t know God and the way he works fuss over these things, but you know both God and how he works. Steep your life in God-reality, God-initiative, God-provisions. Don’t worry about missing out. You’ll find all your everyday human concerns will be met.

“Give your entire attention to what God is doing right now, and don’t get worked up about what may or may not happen tomorrow. God will help you deal with whatever hard things come up when the time comes.”
– Matthew 6:30-34 (The Message)

Questions:

  1. God is not tiny, but God can become tiny enough to enter a life cracked open a little. Will you allow God to enter into your mind and heart? And, once in, will you allow God to show you a love as big as the universe, as tender as a new mother, as playful as Bill Cain’s father?
  2. What gift has God given you recently? How did it make you feel when you received it? How do you feel when you think about it now? What does that gift tell you about God?
  3. Why now? Why has God given you this gift at this particular time in your life?
  4. Is there something else God would like you to notice as you sit with this gift?
  5. What is God inviting you to do with what has been given and unfolded?
  6. How would you like to express your gratitude to God for God’s “can’t keep his eyes off you” love?

DSC_0678 by Lian Yu

I THANK YOU GOD FOR MOST THIS AMAZING 

i thank You God for most this amazing
day: for the leaping greenly spirits of trees
and a blue true dream of sky; and for everything
which is natural which is infinite which is yes

(i who have died am alive again today,
and this is the sun’s birthday; this is the birth
day of life and of love and wings: and of the gay
great happening illimitably earth)

how should tasting touching hearing seeing
breathing any–lifted from the no
of all nothing–human merely being
doubt unimaginable You?

(now the ears of my ears awake and
now the eyes of my eyes are opened)

by e.e. cummings

Credits:
“to have a morning…” by Travis. Used with permission.
Morning Prayer of SoulStream Community
Tattoos on the Heart, The Power of Boundless Compassion, Gregory Boyle, SJ
“Sitting in Silence” by Alice Popkorn. Used with permission.
“A Daisy Day in May” by Brent M. Used with permission.
Sunrise photo by Lian Yu. Used with permission.
I THANK YOU GOD FOR MOST THIS AMAZING  by e.e. cummings from XAIPE
© Esther Hizsa, An Everyday Pilgrim, 2014.
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, 2014  http://www.estherhizsa.wordpress.com.
Posted in Poetry, Popular Posts, Prayer, Prayer Retreat Outline, Resource | Tagged , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , | 4 Comments

Is Contemplative Spirituality for Everyone?

Posted on September 26, 2014 by Esther Hizsa

Quiet Solitude by Rob.From time to time I have been asked if I believe contemplative spirituality is for everyone. Those who ask confess that they find it difficult and unrewarding to sit still. They experience God much more in doing things. “I’m just not wired that way,” they admit, hoping I will let them off the contemplative hook.

Neither am I, I want to respond. (I skipped centering prayer to write this post while it was fresh in my mind.) Neither was Henri Nouwen. Even though he wrote a lot about finding God in silence and solitude, he had great difficulty sitting still for five minutes.

Yet Nouwen persisted and so do I, because God desires to be truly known in a way that is unlimited by metaphors and images, thoughts and words. “Be still, and know that I am God,” the Lord says in Psalm 46:10.

I think of this poem from Celtic Daily Prayer

There is a contemplative 
in all of us,
almost strangled
but still alive,
who craves quiet
enjoyment of the Now,
and longs to touch 
the seamless 
garment of silence
which
makes whole.
– Alan P. Tory

Whether we are aware of it or not, we all long to be with God alone without any props. The Bible talks about it. Christian mystics remind us of it. Questions open us to it: Why am I so busy? Why is work so important to me? Who am I when I can’t do anything?

I want to say all these things to my arms-crossed inquirers, but God doesn’t.

Love will awaken that deep desire in its time.

Return by Kathrin Burleson

 You, God, are my God,
    earnestly I seek you;
I thirst for you,
    my whole being longs for you,
in a dry and parched land
    where there is no water.
– Psalm 63:1 (NIV)

Credits and references:
“Quiet Solitude” by Rob. Used with permission.
Wounded Prophet: A Portrait of Henri J.M. Nouwen by Michael Ford, 1999 (p.5).
Poem by Alan P. Tory in Celtic Daily Prayer by the Northumbria Community. Originally published in Wonder: Learning the “Ah!” of Things by Alan P. Tory, Ballantine Books (1973)
“Return” by Kathrin Burleson.
© Esther Hizsa, An Everyday Pilgrim, 2014.
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, 2014  http://www.estherhizsa.wordpress.com.
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Scarlet Fever

Posted on September 19, 2014 by Esther Hizsa

Do you have a memory that you treasure? I’ll tell you one of my favourites.

our weddingRecognize the handsome fellow dressed in red serge? That’s my husband, Fred. We met thirty-five years ago in the indigenous community of Bella Bella. Back then this tiny village, located on the isolated coast of British Columbia, had barely fifteen kilometres of dirt road. Only a handful of outsiders—teachers, doctors, nurses, and Royal Candian Mounted Police officers—were invited by the Heiltsuk band to live there.

Constable Hizsa liked to tell people that he was stationed in Bella Bella soon after he suspended an alderman’s licence for impaired driving, had the mayor’s son’s car towed, and attended a traffic accident involving the detachment commander’s wife. I found myself there after I graduated from nursing school when jobs were scarce in my home province.

But the real reason I was there was because I wanted to broaden my experience of life. And this one-hotel-no-cable-TV island had lots to show me.

The Heiltsuk people expressed their joy easily and loved each other generously. However, in 1979 many families on the “reserve” (as it was called then) were sorely affected by years of abuse at the hands of the settlers. The trauma of being sent to residential schools had taken its toll and many who survived had turned to alcohol.

BellaBellaDowntown cropped

I happened to be on the dock the day Fred arrived by float plane. The other police officers were out on a call, so I was left to show Fred to his quarters. Before we got through the door of his trailer, we discovered we had a lot in common. We both grew up in Ontario, our parents had emigrated from Europe, and we loved the outdoors. Soon Fred and I were sharing meals, listening to ABBA, and going for long walks on the beach. After our shifts, we talked about the crazy things that had happened that day and tried to make sense of the violence and pain around us.

Meanwhile, the spinster matron watched these developments from her house across the road. She told us afterwards that she wondered how long it would be before another one of her nurses succumbed to “scarlet fever.”

One moonlit night Fred and I were walking on the beach. A few stray dogs tagged along. I stepped from rock to rock as each wave lifted the seaweed and washed the ocean up around my sneakers.

Fred took my hand to keep me from slipping. “You’re the woman I’ve been looking for my whole life,” he said.

“Who? Me?”

He smiled. There was no one else there except the dogs.

I couldn’t believe someone would choose me to love every day for the rest of their life, but someone did. And still does.

Perhaps one of your favourite memories was a moment like that, a time when you too felt precious to someone. It could be as simple as receiving an enthusiastic greeting from a friend when you showed up unexpectedly or a gentle word of understanding at a pivotal time. These experiences tell us we are loved and help us believe that God could love us that much too.

The moment we believe God does indeed love us that much and more, that is a moment God treasures. I can imagine the Trinity smiling every time they talk about it.

Never again shall you be called “The God-forsaken Land”
or the “Land That God Forgot.” Your new name will be
“The Land of God’s Delight” and “The Bride,” for the Lord
delights in you and will claim you as his own.
– Isaiah 62:4 (TLB)

Credits:
Wedding photo by Maurice Oliver Studios, St. Marys, Ontario
Bella Bella, B.C.
© Esther Hizsa, An Everyday Pilgrim, 2014.
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, 2014  http://www.estherhizsa.wordpress.com.
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That Sweet Moon Language

Posted on September 12, 2014 by Esther Hizsa

Cast Your Net by Bradley Shawn RabonIn the parable of the net, Jesus tells his listeners that the kingdom of heaven is like a fisherman that casts his net wide. He collects everything in the sea: fish and sea creatures, tin cans and old boots. God wants them all, Jesus says, the good and the bad. We’ll sort later, he explains, at the end of time.

In the mean time, we are all stuck with each other.

Wouldn’t life be so much easier if God would just stop every once in a while and sort out the stinkers. Those bad fish keep ruining our lives and messing up the world with greed and violence.

But, no. God just keeps casting the net and continues the ban on sorting. God doesn’t seem to be in a hurry to toss anyone out of the kingdom. Love will do what it takes to convince every single person that they are precious to God.

This King of Love draws the net tight, so tight the creatures in the net are forced to look each other in the eye. What will our enemies see when they look into our eyes? What will we see in theirs?

That love-stricken poet Hafiz knows.

With That Moon Language

Admit something:
Everyone you see, you say to them,
“Love me.”
Of course you do not do this out loud;
otherwise,
someone would call the cops.
Still though, think about this,
this great pull in us
to connect.
Why not become the one
who lives with a full moon in each eye
that is always saying,
with that sweet moon
language,
what every other eye in this world
is dying to
hear.

You and I have been caught in God’s net because Jesus has loved us with his sweet moon language. Now he calls us to love others with a full moon in each eye. Those other fish? They’re in the net for the very same reason.

Credits and references:
“Cast Your Net” by Bradley Shawn Rabon
Matthew 13:47-52
“With that Moon Language” by Hafiz (1325–1389) translated by Daniel Ladinsky in Love Poems from God, 2002. Used with permission.
© Esther Hizsa, An Everyday Pilgrim, 2014.
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, 2014  http://www.estherhizsa.wordpress.com.
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