shattered petals fall
fragrant still
garden gift of grace
“Sorrow fully accepted brings its own gifts. For there is alchemy in sorrow. It can be transmitted into wisdom, which, if it does not bring joy, can yet bring happiness.”
— Pearl S. Buck
Of the many symbols which decorate our home at Christmastime, my favorite may be the star. Our big tree is lit with tiny twinkle lights reminding us of stars, and is topped with a star. A crystal star holds a candle on the kitchen table. My grandchildren draw stars. Joe loves the Christmas Song “Beautiful Star of Bethlehem.” I love the deep mystery of the great star which led wise men to search for a baby. How sweet, then, in this simple and sacred ordinary evening, to slice an apple to float in the cider on my stove and find this star, marking seed and promise of fruit..
Star giver,
Light shiner
Promise keeper…
Come.
Quicken.
Emmanuel.
Advent: season of waiting, expecting, preparing. One morning recently, I walked toward my front door and stopped, stilled with the beauty of light and shadow which shimmered in early morning sun streaming through our leaded glass door. As I received these images with my camera, I considered how much our Advent and Christmas pondering is like this – the shining of Light into our lament and darkness, beyond our closed doors, past our barriers of grief or bewilderment, settling into the curve of yearning in our hearts to create that which can strike us still with its mystery.
“The light would never be so acceptable, were it not for that usual intercourse of darkness. . .God will have them that shall walk in light to feel now and then what it is to sit in the shadow of death. A grieved spirit therefore is no argument of a faithless mind. ~Richard Hooker
” I’ve remembered this truth again and again as my ups decline into downs, my highs into lows. This reminder only confirms what I know but still need to learn. Light comes not in spite of the darkness, but to balance and penetrate it.” ~Luci Shaw
I write a great deal about vision, particularly attentiveness and seeing with the eyes of the heart. Most of my posts here on Stones and Feathers are related to that in some way. But one does not require perfect physical visual acuity to acquire keen insight. I know a man who is legally blind due to a genetic retina degeneration that presented suddenly when he was 10 years old. His vision is severely limited. He lives in a world of shapes and blurred edges. The blurred photo above represents this although it still has more detail than he would find. However, he has a sharper awareness of his surroundings than anyone else. Seeing with his heart gives him a depth of understanding and perception that many whose eyes work well never develop. I have seen him meeting challenges in getting his education, dealing with issues of transportation because he does not drive, working with his hands in his kitchen and garden. I watched his face as he repeated marriage vows to the love of his life. I admire his determination and faith. I love the hugs only a son can give his mother. I am grateful for his inner vision.
Insight
if it must be dark outside
there can be light within
look!
can you see what I see?
inside the shadows
nebulous luminosity
harvesting fog
for numinous brilliance
written in gratitude for my son, Ben Parker
I have made it my custom for years now to give myself birthday gifts which no one else can give me. I cherish the hugs and surprises from my husband and children, love every phone call and email, and smile all over with my granddaughters’ “Happy Birthday, Granmary!” But no matter how else I spend my time having a happy day, I give myself music – this is the time when I begin playing my favorite Christmas albums, beginning with James Galway’s Christmas Carol and going on to thrill to an English Handbell Choir, Renaissance pieces by the Tallis Scholars, Handel’s Messiah, and John Denver’s Muppet Christmas, which was the one my little boys loved to listen to when they decorated the Christmas tree. It still makes them laugh and we still play it when the tree is staggering to stand up and be dressed. but I also play Paul Hillyer’s Home to Thanksgiving. And in the last couple of years I have added a gift to myself. I write a list to go along with Hillyer’s music. This is a list of sacred ordinary things from throughout my year and is a way for me to move toward the celebration of Thanksgiving in our family, which also is the springboard for Advent. Since I keep a gratitude journal where I record 5 things I am grateful for each morning, I simply make my birthday list from that journal, choosing 2 or 3 entries for each month in the past year. Just remembering and writing these things is a reminder of hope and joy. What a gift!
Gratitude
In my 72nd year, these are things for which I give thanks:
greens from our garden on the table with peas and cornbread
time to curl up with a book
walking around the lake on a clear, cold day
pain management for Joe
silent room, dark except for Christmas tree lights
Christ, who came, is come, and will come
warming my aching fingers on my coffee cup
my son taking down the Christmas tree and making our dinner
safety during a storm
winter sunshine after the winds
puttering and pruning in the garden
rainbows on the floor from the prism in leaded glass at our front door
the buttery taste of winter squash
memories of babies and boys
my husband’s gentle spirit
morning quiet time
13 bean soup
settling, being settled
deep colors of roses blooming in January
mockingbird singing on top of our rose arbor
“hope is that thing with feathers that perches on the soul and sings….”
Sabbath heart
a perfectly timed call from a dear friend
hoping in, not for
the poetry of Luci Shaw
my nursing education and experience
books on hold at the library
planting Cherokee Purple heirloom tomato seeds
quiet – no rushing to fill with noise
still – no rushing to “do”
Everybody needs beauty, as well as bread
.Places to play in and pray in
Where nature may heal and give strength
to body and soul.
~ John Muir
How Filled With Awe
Days pass and the years vanish and we walk sightless among miracles. Oh, Holy One, fill our eyes with seeing and our minds with knowing. Let there be moments when your Presence, like lightning, illumines the darkness in which we walk. Help us to see, wherever we gaze, that the bush burns, unconsumed. and we, clay touched by Thee, will reach out for holiness and exclaim in wonder, “How filled with awe is this place and we did not know it.” ~ Rachel Naomi Remen, quoting a prayer from the Jewish Prayer Book, Gates of Prayer
I keep a small basket of smooth stones, each marked with a word, on the back porch which I use like prayer beads. Somehow, as I lift a stone and place it beside me with a prayer for each thing the word I have written there represents, I am able to focus more sharply and receive these gifts. I keep the same list by the coffee pot in the kitchen and can cover it with the palm of my hand in my petition. Laying the stones down is a random process, so I am drawn to the pattern on this particular day when I look at all of them together. I begin with seeking Light and the progression leads me to the most important request, “Thyself.” I realize that if I could have only one request it must be that, for it is in the presence of God I find the all the rest.
The poetry of John O Donahue helps me imagine he might have had a basket of stones, too.
May I live this day
Compassionate of heart,
Clear in word,
Gracious in awareness,
Courageous in thought,
Generous in LOVE.
– John O’Donohue
Stones and Feathers 