brittle branches reach
toward cold blue sky
uncovered, still
lifeless
but deep within,
yearning for a warm touch,
green waits
Winter
2
Category Archives: seasons
New Year, New Light
Prayer for a New Year
Epiphany
On Epiphany day,
we are still the people walking.
We are still people in the dark,
and the darkness looms large around us,
beset as we are by fear,
anxiety,
brutality,
violence,
loss —
a dozen alienations that we cannot manage.
We are — we could be — people of your light.
So we pray for the light of your glorious presence
as we wait for your appearing;
we pray for the light of your glorious presence
as we exhaust our coping capacity;
we pray for your gift of newness that
will override our weariness;
we pray that we may see and know and hear and trust
in your good rule.
That we may have energy, courage, and freedom to enact
your rule through the demands of this day.
We submit our day to you and to your rule, with deep joy and high hope.
~ Walter Brueggemann
Christmas Path
In many ways, Advent is like walking a labyrinth for me. I begin the path inward and walk steadily toward centering my heart in a space that leads nowhere else but to Christ, born once again in me. But I cannot stay in the stable. I must get up and begin the outward spiral.
I step on one stone which draws me outside in,
Centripetal propelling of self toward center.
One step, then another, a walk on a labyrinth path.
Seeking, finding
A center for refilling, refueling, refreshing.
Then reverse, return.
Stepping in an outward spiral,
The centrifuge which slowly spins and scatters this gathered grace,
Inside out.
~Mary Ann Parker, January 19, 2010
Let Christmas Unfold
In our garden we plant host plants like Milkweed, fennel,dill and parsley for butterflies. Once the larvae ravenously feed on these and undergo the change to chrysalis, nothing much seems to be happening until, metamorphosis complete, the limp wet wings begin to emerge and struggle to unfurl. During this process if there is any attempt to help or rush the struggle, averting the necessary conditions for growth and transformation, the butterfly will not fly or live.
In many ways, Advent is a similar process of waiting and transformation. We may be tempted to rush the slow but steady journey but we need to take the time to live and lean into the meaning and experience of the coming of Christ. It is not yet Christmas. It is Advent, a time to anticipate the story and meaning. In her book Simply Wait, Pamela Hawkins suggests that we take a walk through our home, room by room, and say a short blessing in each space. “Take your time, imagine how you will live in this time and place over the next few weeks in ways that could help you not to hurry Christmas.”
What other ways help you be present to this Advent day and let Christmas unfold?
Called to Christmas
After an early freeze this year, there is more intense color in our Texas Gulf Coast trees than I remember seeing in 20 years. These Bradford pear leaves glisten in cold drizzle, their red and green echoing Christmas colors appearing inside our home. As I turn the pages of our calendar and my Advent readings, I feel called to Christmas, beckoned to astonishment once again.
Prayer from the Unsettlng Season, by Donaald J. Shelby
“Lord, the calendar calls for Christmas. We have traveled this way before.During this Advent season we would see what we have never seen before, accept what we have refused to think, and hear what we need understand. Be with us in our goings that we may meet you in your coming. Astonish us until we sing “Glory!” and then enable us to live it out with love and peace. In the name of your Incarnate Word, even Jesus Christ. Amen”
Looking for the Star
The house is very quiet and still this afternoon, on this first Sunday of Advent. I have loved having all 12 (and another on the way) of us together. After our family’s Sunday morning at church and lunch together, our adult children and our grandchildren have dispersed to their own homes. Those who live in Fort Worth have been here the last 4 days during which we gathered all for a Thanksgiving feast, and as has become our tradition, then the Christmas tree was brought in and festive decorations begun. Lights in the yard and on the tree were reflected in the happy eyes of little girls, music filled spaces between laughter and excited conversation.
As I sit among all the not yet placed wreaths, manger scenes, garlands and dear old things we hang on the tree, I think how the anticipation and joy did not leave with the children. I sit in the quiet for a time. Then I light the first Advent candle and begin listening to James Galway’s On the Way to Bethlehem. Advent begins. How will you mark your Advent journey? I would love to hear.
Adult Advent Announcement
O Lord,
Let Advent begin again
In us,
Not merely in commercials;
For that first Christmas was not
Simply for children,
But for the
Wise and the strong.
It was
Crowded around that cradle,
With kings kneeling.
Speak to us
Who seek an adult seat this year.
Help us to realize,
As we fill stockings,
Christmas is mainly
For the old folks —
Bent backs
And tired eyes
Need relief and light
A little more.
No wonder
It was grown-ups
Who were the first
To notice
Such a star.
~ David A. Redding,, from If I Could Pray Again
Small Things
Announcing Autumn on my porch,Duranta berries are reminders of the beauty and importance of small things. Birds love these berries, so I welcome cardinals and mockingbirds as morning visitors. Their thank you notes trill as they perch on my kitchen windowsill. I enjoyed the plant’s summer blooms, but the small berries they left are an enchanting reminder of joy we find when we watch for life as it is made up of moments.
I think of [my life] in all its small component parts: the snowdrops, the daffodils; the feeling of one of my kids sitting close beside me on the couch; the way my husband looks when he reads with the lamp behind him; fettuccine Alfredo; fudge; Gone with the Wind, Pride and Prejudice. Life is made up of moments, small pieces of glittering mica in a long stretch of gray cement.
~ Anna Quindlen, in A Short Guide to a Happy Life
Dancing Grasses
waving alleluias
grasses dance in morning breeze
to rhythm of the seasons
Hints of Autumn
In three more days, we can say that Fall has arrived because the calendar page turns and there it is. But I can feel it coming from a long way before. The leaves on our South Texas trees may not sport the vivid varieties of scarlet and orange and gold which we see in climates that have more distinct season changes, but there are hints. Crepe myrtle leaves begin to look different in morning light, even before they get touched with red. Other leaves just begin to drop. Mornings have the slightest hint of cool, and the light changes. I begin to look forward to baking more and spending more time on the back porch. I check the supplies of cinnamon and nutmeg and maple syrup. There are whispers of Autumn everywhere this week.
a pumpkin appears by my front door
I slice apples for dipping in caramel
the ginger cat waits patiently
Reflection
Photography by Skye Parker, my granddaughter
These windows at the back of our house mirror a rose arbor covered with blooms just a month ago. But summer arrives today says the calendar as well as the temperature, so the scanty blooms that are still there are pale and dried. The reflection today seems to say “all gone away.” But I know this rose. It is hardy and tenacious, with a reputation for surviving even a hurricane. I know it will bloom again. I will not mourn for lost blossoms. I will enjoy the many shades of green in its leaves, admire the lacy intertwining of its branches. I will wonder at the raindrops caught in spider webs woven in rose canes. I will count the bird nests perched inside the arbor’s protection, and rest in the shade it gives me. And I will be grateful for eyes that can see the rose bush reflected in the windows of home.
“Whether one looks at a star, a child, a moment of sorrow, or a time of gladness, blessed is the ordinary…I believe the small moment is the carrier of God’s most endearing gift, and that it must not be permitted to slip away unsavored and unappreciated…If one accepts each day as a gift from the Father’s hand, one may sometimes hear a voice saying, “Open it. I invite you to share with me in these little appointments with myself as we try to unwrap the hidden beauties in an ordinary day.” Gerhard Frost in Blessed is the Ordinary
Stones and Feathers 