Friendship Meditation

Love one another with brotherly affection. Out do one another in showing honor.

- Romans 12:10

Iron sharpens iron and one man sharpens another.

- Proverbs 27:17

Friendship is the only cure for hatred, the only guarantee of peace.

--Buddha

Relationships: Putting it In Action

When we honestly ask which person in our lives means the most to us, we often find that it is those who, instead of giving advice, solutions, or cures, have chosen rather to share our pain and touch our wounds with a warm and tender hand. 

--Henri Nouwen

Last year, as our family faced a health crisis, I learned a lot about friendship. Some people avoided us, probably out of a sense of discomfort or not being sure what to say. No blaming-- it is difficult when, really, nothing said or done will make it all better. But other friends really rose to the occasion. Although many people attended to me, my friend Debbie stands out as a shining example of friendship in action. She sent gourmet food gifts to my son, and as any mom will tell you, "love my kids, love me". But she didn't stop there. She made sure I received cards and little gifts, just to let me know she was loving on and thinking of me.

When our drama and trauma was all over and we made it to the other side (with a happy ending), she even let me descend on her and her sweet family for a week of Florida sunshine and a healthy dose of restorative friendship. Poor lady. I think I talked her ear off about all kinds of stuff I had stored up inside me. And never once did she sigh and say, "Yeah, I think you told me all this before" (she had every right to, trust me).

As I contemplate the past year and think about the loving examples of friendship I've had in my life, I realize that friendship is seen and felt through love's actions. So what can we do to act in friendship? Over the years I've collected a few ideas, some I have learned through the grace of friends, others I have discovered, through the grace of God:

1. Notes:  This week I received a lovely bracelet made in Africa and a note from a friend who had just been there on a mission trip with her church (waves at Corinne). The bracelet is lovely, but the sweet note, her words of friendship, love, and encouragement brought me to tears-- no easy feat for me. There's something about handwriting and the time it takes, that speaks volumes to the heart.

2. Listening: Easier than it sounds. The tough part, I've learned, is listening without feeling like I have to fine-tune or correct or offer a solution.  I want to fix it for my friends, but that's rarely possible. Listening, sympathizing, and agreeing is usually all that's required or desired.

3. Small gifts: What is it about a gift card to a coffee shop or a pretty bookmark that perks a person up? It doesn't have to be anything expensive; it can be homemade, but a little present can really make a friend feel special.

4. Coffee or lunch: I have a friend who meets me for coffee every couple of weeks. We chat and sip talking about our kids, animals, aging, finances, and whatever else comes up. It's a lovely time together. I always leave feeling refreshed.

5. Walking: Another friend and I go for weekly walks, through ice, snow, and sunshine we get out and walk for an hour or so. Not only are we getting a little exercise, but we spend the entire time talking about all kinds of topics-- parents, marriage, faith, church, our town, trends-- whatever we want, really. I look forward to my weekly date with this sweet lady.

6. Do the unexpected. Once, a friend of mine was in a dispute with her sister. It turned nasty. All the handmade ceramic gifts that she had once given her sister were left, smashed, one-by-one, on her front stoop in brown paper bags. My friend was crushed. One morning, I got up early, bought her a pretty flowering plant, and put it in a brown bag in front of her door with a note: See, not all things left at your door are bad. She told me that when she first opened the door and saw the bag, her heart sank. But as she dared to open it, her hope was restored. It warmed my heart to know it made her smile.

7. Be there. Another time, a friend of mine called one late night and told me she was suicidal, and if she decided to take her own life, I was not to feel guilty. We hung up the phone, and I stared at it for a few minutes. Then I told my husband I was heading out for the night. I grabbed my sleeping bag and a toothbrush and drove to her house. When she answered the door, I sent her to bed to rest. "Go to bed. I'm cleaning your house and sleeping on the couch." I'm glad to say that over twenty years later, she is a lovely, active person enjoying life. At least for that night, she was under my watch and much too polite to follow through on her threat while I was there.

I think the common thread for all these ideas is time. When we invest time in our friendships-- whether through a phone call, visit, or jotting a note, we invest in the other person. There are so many things demanding our time, but few will reap the joy and satisfaction of a friendship.

What else would you add to the list to add action to friendship? Do you have any stories of acts you have done or others have done for you to encourage us and offer ideas? Let's go in blessings this week and be a friend. 

The Creativity Ritual

Being creative isn't always easy for me. In theory, I love the idea of connecting to God through art. My heart and mind grasp that when we create, we are imitating God, the artist. 

It is our unique gift as humans to see visions of beauty and inspiration and give them form. (Tweet this)

In practice, however, I often feel limited by the process. Writing, most often, is my chosen form of expression. I love to write... most of the time. But sometimes bringing the ideas in my head to fruition and giving them palatable words and form feels anything but spiritual. I lumber through the process, frustrated by my own lack of ability. The peaceful, spiritual image I have in my head flies right out the window (along with pages of deleted words). 

This week for Lent, however, I was determined to focus on, nurture, and find my creative joy. It occurred to me that just as church is a ceremony to prepare us for worship, I could implement a ritual to open my heart, elevate my spirit, and be more receptive.

1. Lighting a candle. I found a candle with a lovely, soft scent, placed it on my desk, and lit it. As I did so, I said a prayer asking God to light my heart and help me be a soft and gentle light. 

2. Read. I took a few minutes to read a text that challenged and elevated my mind. Currently, I'm working through a book called In Fact: The Best of Creative Nonfiction, a collection of very well-written and thoughtful essays. Reading others' creative pieces helped set my mind and heart towards my own writing. I could have read poetry or scripture, looked at art on the internet, or watched an inspiring video or TED talk-- anything to feed my heart and inspire me. 

3.  Music. I need relative quiet when I write. Even music with lyrics can disrupt me. I found a station on Pandora that is strictly instrumental. It plays a lovely mix I find soothing and uplifting. 

4. Tea. I don't think there's anything mystical in a hot cup of tea, but the scent, warming liquid, and earthy flavor helped me feel pampered.  

4. Turn off the Internet. While I think social media serves a good purpose, I also believe it is the antithesis of creativity. (Tweet this) It is, at least for me, numbing and distracting. I downloaded an alarm clock app and set it. I'll be honest, I felt a bit "twitchy" wanting to check my mail or Facebook (now isn't that telling), but the lack of distraction was wonderful and reminded me that this time was special and sacred. 

4. Create. I wrote, not euphorically or without wrestling with my words, but I allowed myself to write, even poorly. Towards the end of my time, one piece I worked on took me to the lake near our house during summer, kayaking on the glass-like surface. My heart soared with the words. I was in the heart of creating, reliving nature, and lost in sharing an experience that brought me peace. 

Have you ever tried to make your creation process more an act of worship? What ideas do you have to set the stage and mood for a receptive heart?

And now, the winner!

I admit, when I first thought of giving away crayons and a coloring book, I wondered if it would seem childish. It was an idea born from my own love of coloring. I find it so peaceful! But it was fun to see the eager responses. I'm enjoying giving away a few gifts! The winner of the coloring book and crayons, as selected by the random list generator at Random.org is:

Julia Munroe Martin

Yay! Julia, get in touch with me and give me your mailing address-- I'm so excited you won!

Get Your Creativity On

photo from photobucket.com

Painting, drawing, coloring, scrapbooking, collages, photography, nature walks, writing, poetry, singing, music... what do these all have in common? Read on to find out, and at the end, get ready for another give-away.

There is perhaps no greater advocate for the act of spiritual creation than Julia Cameron. She has developed courses and written books teaching her belief that art and our spiritual connection to The Creator are closely linked. She writes in The Artist's Way, "When we open ourselves to our creativity, we open ourselves to the creator's creativity within us and our lives."

When we acknowledge and explore our own creativity, could it be we are conduits of God's own delight as the master artist? But I can't draw. I can't write. I can't play an instrument. We have an excuse list a mile long why we are not very creative. I know. I've used most of them.

I come from a very artistic family. My mother was an amazing artist with oils. Her paintings are abstract expressions with shapes, textures, and colors. My sister is also a gifted artist, quilter, and shares her love of creation with a school full of elementary children. My engineering dad and brother, although not artists in the fine arts sense, could always duplicate and build with their hands. Honestly, I always felt like the creative ugly duckling. My talents were not obvious. I loved to play our old upright piano and sing, but lacked the discipline and talent to hone my skills. I can't draw worth spit. I always like to write, but never saw that as a creative expression, unless I wrote poetry (really bad poetry, I might add).

But now I  believe all of us-- even me-- are endowed with innate creative urges, no matter the form it takes. For some, walking in nature and savoring creation is a way to nurture their creative soul. For others, it is painting, singing, photography, sketching, interior design, and yes, writing. The list goes on. One has only to walk in nature, through a museum, among ornate architecture or cliff dwellings of ancient peoples to know that we are born creative beings, longing to express what we see and feel.

I strongly believe that when we create, 
we may be at our closest to communing with God. (Tweet this) 

Christine Valters Paintner, author of The Artist's Rule: A Twelve Week Journey says, "When you bring awareness to your work as an artist or writer, your pen and brush become vessels of awareness of God at work."

I like to think I am communing closely with God and in his delight when I create.This week for Lent, I will try to incorporate a little creative play into each day, no matter how simple, and I will try to let it be a form of meditation and celebration.

And The Give Away!

To help you get into your creative groove, I would like to send a design coloring book and box of crayons to one commenter of this post, by Thursday, March 20th. I will announce the winner and get mailing information on Friday, the 21st. (Sorry, because of postage expenses with this, I'm going to confine the give away to within the continental U.S.) When was the last time you colored an intricate pattern and smelled a box of fresh crayons? Let your child artist out!

We are made in infinite creativity. 
 Is it any wonder we find joy when we let our inner artist out to play? (Tweet this)

Meditation On Love

A new command I give you: Love one another. As I have loved you, so you must love one another.

-- Jesus

To love another person is to see the face of God. 

-- Victor Hugo

Romans 13:8  ... love each other, for the one who loves another has fulfilled the law

For the Love of...

Fish!

I'm familiar with the tradition in the Catholic church of eating fish on Friday, especially during Lent. I cruised through the Internet trying to find an explanation of this observance and was puzzled to find varied explanations, none of them very clear. As best as I can tell, from several Catholic websites, it started as a tradition to abstain from meat on Fridays, as a way of observing penance. I'm not a big meat eater, so not sure how much of a sacrifice this would be for me.

Several sites discussed whether eating fish was really abstaining from eating meat and whether the original intent was to focus on grains and veggies. Still others talked about the significance of fish in the Christian history: Jesus dividing the fish and loaves, the disciples being fishers of men, the early practice of drawing a fish shape in the ground (an Ichthys) to indicate one's Christianity when it was dangerous to do so verbally.

No matter. I like fish. I'm happy to embrace this tradition. So in honor of Fridays in Lent, I will offer fishy recipes for your dining pleasure. Today's recipe comes from SparkPeople and is so ridiculously easy, I'm going to make it tonight:

image from photobucket.com

World's Easiest Salmon Recipe

1/4 cup real maple syrup (not pancake syrup) or honey
1/4 cup soy sauce
2-3 cloves garlic, minced
12 oz salmon

Mix first three ingredients in a large plastic bag and marinate salmon for at least an hour before cooking. Pour salmon with marinade into a baking dish, cover with foil and bake at 350 for 15 minutes. The salmon is done when it flakes at the thickest part. Enjoy!

Do you have an explanation of the tradition of fish on Fridays? Educate me.

Putting Feet to Love

Truly I tell you, whatever you did for one of the least of these brothers and sisters of mine, you did for me. 

--Jesus

If you knew what I know about the power of giving, you would not let a single meal pass without sharing it in some way.
-- Buddah

Last night I happened to catch the end snippet of NBC news. They had a short clip of the disturbing conflict in Syria and the young, helpless victims of the seemingly unending hate. My heart caught. How can I be confronted with these sweet children's faces and do nothing? Just yesterday in my post I talked about love in action, and that very night this story caught my eye.

)

I have been receiving a daily Lent message from Fr. Robert Barron and today's message was about giving (wouldn't you know it). In it, he encourages readers to give whenever you are asked, citing Matthew 5:42: Give to the one who asks you, and do not turn away from the one who wants to borrow from you.

Fr. Barron challenges people to give to anyone-- all the mail invites for money (assuming they are legitimate, of course), all the panhandlers, even if it's just a dollar or two. He encourages people to cut back on other areas, like maybe what they order from the menu, and give that savings away. That's quite a challenge.

Everyone, of course, is convicted to do their part in their own way. Heaven knows there are many, many children in need of someone to care with action, in the world and in our own country. Tonight, my husband and I will sit down and look through the organizations helping children, as suggested by NBC News, and choose one.

Ultimately the answer to war is that Love would triumph over all the hate, but in the meantime, maybe we can find a way to put feet to that sentiment.

To Be Love

This week for Lent, I decided I would focus and meditate on the topic of love. Yesterday, I posted a link to a lovely essay my sweet 18-year-old wrote and, if I do say so (and unabashedly I will say so) it was poignant and truth-filled.

When I started out this 40-day journey, I had lofty, almost saint-like images of how and who I would be during Lent. You see, there’s an odd side to me that craves to be a monk. I read Thomas Merton with a touch of envy. From the outside peering through the glass window of his secluded hermitage, I see a spiritual being in touch with his creator, wrestling over the deep issues of the soul, taking long walks in nature in contemplative thought, and writing in his journal elegant and insightful truths. Yeah, I want to be that.

Here’s the irony of it, however. Ultimately, being that is more about the ego than anything. My ego wants to be this lofty, separated from the world, harmonious, love-filled saint. The thud-crashing reality, is what I'm really craving is a spiritual state that can only come from a lifetime of wrestling with who I am--grounded in this life with its disappointments, hurts, and confusion, and...oh, that's right...it usually includes a heavy dose of hard-earned humility.  

After Mother Teresa’s death, correspondences were discovered revealing that during the last 50 years of her life, she wrestled with the very core of her faith, if God even existed. By then of course, she was cast in a high-profile role in life. Was she a fraud? I doubt it. She was, perhaps like most people in life, on a trajectory she began and perhaps didn't know how to alter. But I have no doubt she was truly motivated by compassion and serving, despite all the feelings being, or not being, in place.

Oh, that’s the sneaky, tricky part of love, isn’t it? The feelings aren’t always in place, and yet the actions must be. I doubt Thomas Merton’s feelings were always as they “should” be. He wrestled with life. It is, in fact, from this very place of doubt and despair most saints or great, spiritual thinkers probably travel through to become who they ultimately became, the place we get to pick up on in their lives and read about.

Attaining to an image is the fragile stuff of ego. We want a reflection. The truth is hard work, life, doubt, pain, hurt, confusion, and yet clinging to faith—these are the things that carve and form the images we often look up to. Like rushing water that little by little forms a canyon, the daily act of living carves us into humility and action, even when, and probably more so when, the feelings aren’t all in place.

So this week’s Lent challenge is to act in love--not to feel loving, meditate on lofty images of love, or pray with some abstract saintly love. It’s just to be love. 

All We Need Is Love....

I was going to write a post on love today, then I read the post my daughter-- only 18-- wrote as a contributor to the site Joyful Home and Life. She writes to a teen audience, but see if this doesn't speak volumes to you.

But The Greatest of These is Love

Gratefulness in Action

For Lent this week I've been focusing on being grateful. It seems like the more I focus on it, the more obstacles have been thrown up in front of me to challenge my efforts while, simultaneously, the more reminders I've had to be grateful anyway.

So many people post videos on Facebook, I almost always pass them by. But when my friend posted this short clip (less than 3 minutes), the little girl's cute face caught my attention as if intentionally placed in front of me to sucker me in. I couldn't resist.

I'm glad I didn't. It reminded me that to cultivate a grateful heart we must, by necessity, be looking up and out beyond our own circumstances. Gratefulness expands our vision and reminds us to have a giving heart.

Jesus said we must be like little children in our faith (Matt.18:3). I think it's because children don't over-think or analyze a decision or belief, they just accept it and do it. 

May I be more childlike this week.

Gratitude

When it comes to life, the critical thing is whether you take things for granted or take them with gratitude.

--Gilbert K. Chesterson

I woke up this morning a bit out of sorts.  My floors needed swept and mopped. The carpets needed vacuumed. Laundry needed done. Am I the only one who can do the work around here? 

We missed Ash Wednesday services last night. We got the time wrong, and nowhere could I find the correct time. It's not the end of the world, or even a minor tragedy-- just a disappointment. 

Still, I am cranky. I just put another load in the laundry and have a few, brief hours alone before family returns and clutters my solitude. 

I turned to my quiet time of meditation, hoping to find solace and the feelings of Lent, whatever those may be. I read the words of my devotions then ranted, "Why is it, God, I must find you? You are God. Find me. I'm just human." I was met with a silence I don't know how to interpret. 

Sometimes I find myself wondering if, like many believe, I am conjuring a God to suit my need. I can point to nothing, like science, to prove He exists. I can't do an experiment and show my hypothesis to be fact. But ultimately, my heart can't reject what has been instilled in it for so long. It may not make "sense", but it is my decision to accept mystery as truth.

Feelings, like inspiration, are dodgy and deceptive, aren't they? They come and go, fluttering just out of reach. Sometimes we grasp them, and they are dear and feel so real. But mostly they taunt us. Are our beliefs so fragile they hang on fleeting emotions? 

When I am stuck in this cycle, it is best that I do. What I mean is, it is good for me to get out of my head. Move beyond my self. Do chores. Go for a walk or jog. Call someone who needs cheering up. Write a note to someone I haven't spoke to in awhile. Do. Or perhaps I need a good slap in the conscience: read an article about any place in the world where misfortune and misery are grounded in the sad facts of daily life and haunting uncertainty, not my conjured disappointments with life. 

Then I come full circle, quiet my heart, and find a place of gratitude for all that I have- which is, in the perspective of the world-- abundant beyond comprehension. This doesn't take beliefs or faith or religion. It is a fact I can point to with confidence. 

During this lent season, I will remember gratitude. 

Let It Shine

May it be a light to you in the dark places, when all other lights go out. 

--J.R.R. Tolkien, The Fellowship of the Ring

Today my son and I went on a short drive together and stopped off at a discount store. I was in search of candles. I  know this may not sound like a difficult task, but when you live in a small, secluded town, sometimes even the simple things can be difficult to find. 

Our out-of-town excursion didn't result in exactly what I was looking for, but I made do. After all, it wasn't the aesthetics I was seeking. Ultimately, it was the meaning. 

This year, I'm going to light evening candles in a reverse Advent way. I have six small candles for each week of Lent. I will light them all the first week, one less the following, and so on so that by Good Friday, there will be no candles lit. It will be, as the world must have felt, in darkness. On Easter, I will light them all again so they blaze and I will light the tall green candle as the final celebration. I chose green because it represents growth and life. 

May the Light shine for you.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Please join me in our 40-Day celebration of Lent and renewal. Whether you are making this journey with a specific faith intention or as a time to celebrate stillness and renewal, follow along.  

Pancakes Anyone?

from Photobucket.com

For those of you who have practiced Lent, Shrove Tuesday is probably familiar to you. I had no idea what it was. I'd never heard of it before. But our new church is Episcopalian and goes all-out for Lent and is holding a pancake supper tonight. Well, I certainly like pancakes. Time to check out this tradition.

First stop, good ol'  Wikipedia to figure out just what Shrove Tuesday is all about.

In short, the word is a past tense for an old English word, shrive, the absolution of one's sins. It's also associated with Mardi Gras and Fat Tuesday-- a last indulgence before the season of sacrifice and Lent takes place.

Why pancakes? Since people, once upon a time in the practice of Lent, were forbidden to eat milk, butter or eggs during the Lent season, and these ingredients could not be stored for the 40-day duration, the story goes they would use up these ingredients the night before Lent with a big pancake feast.

This is a practice I can dig a fork into. I love to make and eat homemade pancakes. Sometimes we even have them for dinner. Seems like a great celebration to me!

I have used the same pancake recipe for over twenty years, and make changes to the ingredients as the mood hits.

Basic Recipe: (From the 1982 edition of Sunset's Easy Basics cookbook, or as I like to call it, the Idiot's Cookbook. It was the ideal wedding gift for me.)

Mix dry ingredients:
1 1/2 cups flour
3 tsp baking powder
1/2 tsp salt
2 Tbs sugar

Mix wet ingredients:
1- 1/4 cups milk
1 egg
3 Tbs melted butter/margarine

Make a well in mixed dry ingredients, add wet ingredients all at once, stir till blended. Pour batter (about 1/4 cup) on to hot, greased pan (I use spray oil). Cook on medium until top side looks dry, then flip. Serve with syrup, hot mixed berries, or whatever toppings you enjoy.

Variations:
Flours: Play around with the flours you add. I sometimes use 1/2 cup white flour, 1/2 cup wheat, 1/2 oats or similar variations. Wheat and oats may alter the moisture needed-- just adjust milk to get the consistency you want.

Add Ins: Ooo our family likes a few things thrown in sometimes-- a handful of pecans, chocolate chips, dried cranberries-- have fun and be inventive!

Yum. Let's celebrate! I think any practice that includes the eating of bread-like substances with a sweet topping and perhaps a side of sizzling pig-flesh and eggs, is one we should all observe!

Winner of a Free Book and More Resources for the 40-Days of Contemplation

I was so excited to read all the comments and enthusiasm of the invitation to join me on a 40-Day Lent season journey. You all had great thoughts and ideas to share.

But without further delay, the winner of a free book, chosen at random (random.org), is:

Julie from Julie's Musings! 

Congratulations! Please email me at julieluek@gmail.com as soon as possible and let me know which book you would like. I hope which ever you choose offers you inspiration for the next 40 days.

Lent officially begins with Ash Wednesday on March 5th and ends on Easter Sunday, April 20th, 2014.

Whether you are celebrating the Christian celebration of Lent or taking this time for a 40-Day renewal and spring cleaning of you life and spirit, here are a few resources to help you with your journey.

Christian Emphasis- Suggestions and ideas specifically with spiritual pursuits in mind.

Lent Retreat- One of my favorite morning meditation sites, Pray As you Go, is offering a weekly Lent guided retreat with audio and text meditations.

Spirit Home- A great overview of what Lent is, how to practice it and audio devotionals. It also has links for additional resources.

40 Ideas for Lent- Rachel Held Evans has been compiling a list of ideas for Lent for several years. She also includes family-friendly ideas.

Retreat Ideas- A site with spiritual and non-spiritual ideas to plan a stay-at-home retreat day.

Personal Expression- Ideas to dig deeper.

370 Journal Prompts- Creative ideas for writing in your journal. With 370 to choose from, you're sure to find 40 that will inspire you.

Monthly Personal Retreat Ideas- Ideas to create a space to explore higher personal awareness.

More Personal Retreat Ideas- From the Life Liberated Project.

Nurture Your Creativity- Part of any spiritual journey includes nurturing our creativity. To me, this is the ultimate conduit of God's or our own inner voice.

Pinterest Simple Art Ideas- Creative play ideas. (I always need to keep it simple.)

13 Ways to Spark Creativity- A few good ideas here that may even inspire a few of your own ideas.

101 Artist's Date Ideas

Create Life, Creative Work: tools, resources, musings to enhance your creative potential. A Fun Resource of Creative Thought and Play

Meditation and Prayer

How To Meditate For Beginners: Ten Essential Tips

YouTube Guided Meditations

Pray As You Go- Audio daily meditations on scripture with lovely music.

Richard Rohr's Daily Email Meditations


Whether you approach this through a traditional Lent celebration or a personal Spring Renewal journey, please follow along over the next 6 1/2 weeks and join us in this online retreat. Plan to share what you're experiencing and let's grow and rejuvenate together.

40-Days of Contemplation And A Give-Away!

Most of you probably don't know that for over twenty years, my husband was a minister. That's right-- a church minister. During that time, he served in two independent congregations as the senior pastor. I'll be honest with you, being a "pastor's wife" was never a cloak I wore with comfort or ease.

A little over a year ago, my husband had a career change and left the ministry for good and is now working at a university, thoroughly thriving in his new job. 

Not only did the last year bring about a career, and consequent life-change in terms of my husband's vocation, it also was one that tested the grit of my faith through my family's health crisis. Both events combined, churned up the soil in my soul and have caused me to dig deep within myself and rediscover what I truly believe; how I view church, religion and all that it encompasses for me.

Who Is Lent For?

Next week, March 5th, begins the season of Lent--a 40-day period of religious observance for many practicing Christians. Believe it or not, I have never practiced Lent. No church I ever attended placed much emphasis on this occasion. 

For many, Lent is simply a time where one gives up something for 40 days. I've known people who don't attend church or believe anything in particular, but who will still be giving up sugar, chocolate, or pop for the Lent season. I think their intentions are more in hopes of self-improvement, but it's interesting how the practice, if not the purpose, has permeated the culture.

For the more spiritually minded, Lent is a 40-day period of prayer, contemplation, reflection, and yes, sacrifice. As far as I know, the Bible doesn't even directly mention Lent. Rather, it's a practice of only a select few denominations within the Christian religion and an attempt to imitate and remember Christ's 40-days of fasting and prayer in the desert prior to his death.    

For those who don't follow a belief system or whose faith and beliefs lie elsewhere than Christianity, Lent can can also be a time of, as one site I looked at called it, "spring cleaning"-- a period of cleansing, rest, simplifying, sacrificing, creation, contemplation, forgiving, and giving. 

The Lent Journey

I don't often wax religious on this blog, nor in life, actually. I make no apologies or defenses for what I believe and realize each of us must choose our own direction and allow our hearts to guide us accordingly. However, in my own quest to define and deepen my spirit, I'm going to take a 40-day journey through Lent, for the first time in my life. 

What will this look like? Honestly, I'm not sure. In the continuum of scullery maid and mystic dreamer. I tend to vacillate between the two, sometimes content in focusing on the pragmatic tasks at hand, other times, losing myself in contemplation and dreaming. I'm hoping that with an intentional focus of the 40-days of Lent, I will reconcile the two a bit more-- allowing my dreamer out for prayer and play, while practicing the manifestations of my faith in the forms of self-denial, prayer, devotional reading, creation, forgiving, and giving.

No matter your beliefs or non-beliefs, I'd like to invite you to join me in this 40-day journey. It doesn't have to be rooted in faith-based beliefs, or it can be a deeply spiritual retreat, as I'm hoping it will be for me. Maybe you have been focused on tasks and work lately and desperately need a break. Maybe you've let the intentions and resolutions of the New Year fall to the wayside in the demands of everyday life. Maybe like me, you've had a rough year and need to regain your focus and energy. Or maybe you are also digging for a deeper spiritual connection. No matter your motivation, consider walking with me through the next 40 days, setting your own goals according to your heart and needs. 

And A Give-Away!

To help motivate you and give you ideas for meditation, contemplation and growth, I'd like to buy you a book. After a lot of searching, with careful consideration that we all come to this from varying places, I've selected three options. To win a book, leave me a comment about your thoughts on practicing Lent or a time period for quiet and retreat from the world. I will select one commenter, at random (random.org) and, if chosen, you can decide which book you would like. I will send a paperback or Kindle version to those within the continental US or a Kindle gift, via email, for those elsewhere.  

Give-away will close with comments left by the end of Sunday, March 2nd. 

1. Wrapped In Stillness: A Personal Retreat Guide By Laurie Guest

2. Wondrous Encounters: Scriptures For Lent by Richard Rorh

3. Heart Steps by Julia Cameron

No matter the place you come from, we all need a time to remember we are more than earth-bound creatures running in a maze of tasks. Taking an intentional "time out" to nurture our spirits-- the birth place of our emotions, creativity, connection to nature and the world, and the dwelling place of the Divine-- is important to our complete growth. Join me for 40-days, beginning March 5th, on this journey. It's nice to travel together. 

The Prayer Shawl

It’s 4:30 in the morning. I ease myself out of bed, careful not to wake my husband. I get up, throw on my robe and pad out to the kitchen for my coffee. The hot liquid stimulant is as much a part of my ritual as any other aspect, and on some mornings, much more needed. At this hour the house is still and quiet. I can hear the clock tick and the refrigerator hum. This is my meditation and prayer time, before the sun rises, before the clutter of the day attacks my consciousness.

I like to open the curtains on the window so I can stare out to the sky. If it’s cloudless, I can see the stars. This week, I’ve been able to see Orion’s belt from my east-facing windows. I always hope to see a falling star, like a sign God is joining me, but I rarely do. It’s been cooler in the mornings, the chilled breath of fall seeping inside. I throw a blanket over my legs and settle in to "my chair" with my coffee mug warming my hands. Then I reach down for my prayer shawl, holding its sacred length tenderly.

When my son was first diagnosed with Hodgkin’s Lymphoma, we were cruelly launched into a whirlwind of appointments with specialists and life-altering conversations and decisions. One Sunday, when I felt like I was drowning in all the medical hoopla and worry, I grudgingly showed up for church, feeling more like hiding and skulking than "fellowshipping."  Despite my furtive demeanor, a friend approached me. Catherine, dressed in a long skirt, peasant top, and sandals, walked up to me and handed me a small, brown bag, “I have to go to work, but I’m glad I caught you,” she said.

I smiled. Reaching into the bag, I pulled out a lovely crocheted scarf.

“It’s a prayer shawl,” she said.

I knew it was her creation; I’d seen her handiwork before. It was made of the softest of yarn, a lovely subtle green, like the color of lichen, with bands of purple and turquoise and mossy brown decorating it. I gasped. “Oh, it’s so lovely!”

“I hope it brings you comfort.” She smiled and gave me a hug before leaving.

Once home, I looked up the meaning and tradition of prayer shawls, sometimes called a mantle, peace or comfort shawls. Prayer shawls come from an ancient Jewish tradition, rooted in the Bible. The word tallit, the Hebrew word, is made up of two smaller words, tal meaning “tent” and ith meaning “little”.  A prayer shawl is meant to be a hiding place with God, a covering and protection while praying.

According to the Shawl Ministry, green symbolizes the earth, healing, prosperity, fertility, clarity, sympathy, hope, renewal, health, balance, confidence, abundance, growth and life. 

As I snuggle in my chair with my coffee and reading material, watching the sun awaken the sky, I finger the soft mantle, draping it carefully over my shoulders. It's leaf-like hue is appropriate for the many emotions and needs brewing in my heart and unsettled mind.

When I cover my shoulders in this shawl, I think of Catherine and all the friends who have reached out to us, and I feel wrapped, not just in yarn, but in sweet love and comfort. I feel their prayers.

As the yarn’s journey starts,
It becomes a prayer that comes from the shawl maker’s heart,

The yarn becomes a journey of silent prayer,

Through it’s twists and knots, the prayer is still there,

The quiet clicking or the swish of the yarn,

Tells you the prayer is still going on,

The Shawl maker adds on another skein,

The prayer is anew and doesn’t wane,

As time goes by and the shawl maker’s mind sometimes wanders,

The yarn goes on and prayerfully ponders,

A prayer is said and the stitching subsides,

The yarn comes to an end and is knotted and tied,

It begins a new journey and given with prayer,

It’s Hope, Faith and Love the recipient wears,

But in the silent echoes you can prayerfully hear,

The prayers, the quiet clicking, and the swish of the yarn,

The yarn never ceases and its silent prayers are still going on…
(prayer source)

Sky Moods

We crested the top of the pass and I gasped. The moon shone bright above the peak of a mountain. It was a big, full moon. A harvest moon. I asked my son to slow the car. I rolled down the window and leaned out with my camera in hand, trying to capture the scene.  I snapped a couple pictures, unsatisfied with the results.

“You like sky pictures, don’t you?” my daughter’s friend asked me from the back seat. We were on our way home from a softball game.

“Why do you think that?” I asked.

“You posted a moon picture last night on Facebook.”

“Oh. Yeah I guess I did.”

Truth is, I love the sky. Sometimes I go out on a clear night and just stare into the dark vastness. We live in the mountains and have almost no light pollution. I can see satellites gliding across the black velvet backdrop like a sailing speck of glitter. 

I relish the day sky too. I love how the clouds are like a face displaying moods. Sometimes, like me, there is a mixture, refusing to be confined to just one. Dark and angry clouds coexist with blue skies and only shadows and hints of emotions, like a pout or furrowed brow. 

With shifting hues and lights, prisms of color, it is always changing. The sky is constant, but it never rests in the same image. It is dotted with puffs of morphing cotton, or teeming with stormy potential, or even so blue it almost looks fake, like a drawing by a school child who chooses "sky blue" for her picture. In the evening, sunsets of orange and red show off with a flaming grand finale. Some mornings dazzle with purples and pinks, an early dawn greeting and sneak preview performance for those who rise with the sun. 

This is what I feel in my heart and soul. I too am changing, restless, passing moods like the intangible shades and shapes of the sky.

The sky reflects back to us what we see in ourselves. Sometimes we are flashy and bright. Other times we broil with dark, obscuring clouds, angry, sad, desolate, lonely, analytical, dramatic. Still other times our countenance is calm, peaceful, content, resting.

There are times we glow in beautiful colors, showing off  rainbows of playfulness, potential and promise.  

I believe there is always a light within us—whether the sun of the day or the moon at night. 

All these beautiful passing flavors of the omnipresent heavens remind me of our steadfastness, despite the feelings that flicker and pass. Like the firmament, we too are created to reflect and show off depths and subtleties, shimmering and roiling, moods caught on a breeze. 

The sky's beauty is the Artist's playground and shows us we too are a beautiful canvas, splashed with paint, a product of continuous creativity. 

An Ankle Biter Among Us

A tough face to resist. 

I caved. For several weeks now, my son has been hinting, nay, downright asking for a puppy. He has been going through some medical stuff that’s pretty tough, and although I was resistant at first, I had to admit that a little critter to care for and love just might be the perfect distraction and therapy for what he is enduring.

I saw an ad in a local paper for little puppies, ¾ German Shepherd, ¼ Great Pyrenees, 100% huge. My son had mentioned he liked German Shepherds, so with some trepidation I placed the call and left a message. “Hi, I’m calling about the puppies you are selling, wondering if you have any left. Thanks.” 

Phew. No response. For fifteen minutes. Then I got a call back from a very nice young gal, “Oh, I’m so sorry! We just sold the last one this past weekend.”  

“No, it’s fine,” I said, secretly relieved to have that decision delayed. I then told her why I was looking for a puppy. That’s where I might have committed the Big Cosmic Mistake. Immediately, she told me how she had M.S. and how very good this breed of dog would be for my son. She then told me she had her doubts about the couple who took the last puppy. Apparently they had really debated about the decision and weren’t sure their landlord would agree to it. In short, I could tell, after hearing our situation, she was determined my son should have a puppy.

Sure enough, three days later, we received a call, “Good news!”

Maybe. Depends on your perspective.

Mr. Blue, aka Dog-Dog, has had a difficult adjustment. Puppy is a bit of an ankle biter and very rambunctious. We anticipated it would take a couple of weeks for the two to grow accustomed to each other.

But what really has surprised me was how much of a curmudgeon I am being about this new puppy in the house. Me! A self-proclaimed dog lover!

Blue and Puppy meet

I remember my mom once saying, “There’s a reason you are young when you have kids. They take a lot of energy!” 

I think the same can be said for puppies. Dog-Dog and I are used to our routines. We get up early, very early. He gets fed then goes back to sleep; I sip coffee and enjoy a couple hours of quiet time before the house gets up. Or at least that’s how it used to be. Now we get up early and puppy wants up too. And he does not go back to sleep. He chews slippers, drags shoes out to gnaw, bites at Dog-Dog and generally wreaks all kinds of disruptive havoc on my quiet morning.

Having a puppy requires a lot of vigilant attention. He is still being house trained and likes to chew. Catching him mid-piddle requires alertness and quick reflexes. My quiet mornings of writing are shot. Finally, this morning, I snapped. Puppy had a rawhide, Dog-Dog felt it should be his, after all he is the senior dog in this-here house, and much snarling and yipping ensued. In a fit of impatience, I yanked the offending bone out of the puppy’s mouth, scolded Mr. Blue, and perhaps threw around a few cuss words. My son apologized and got his puppy. I muttered, grabbed my running shoes and the leash, and Dog and I went on a much-needed quiet jog.

For the first mile and a half, I grumbled.

By the time I turned around to head back home, I had relaxed (well OK was winded and panting). I reminded myself why we had got the puppy in the first place. Both Dog and I would adjust to the new little critter and could handle the temporary disruption in our routine. I took a larger picture perspective and let the need to control and defend my time and routine go. By the time I walked through the front door, I was even looking forward to seeing the little furball and giving his nose a kiss.

The puppy has been a good reminder to me about how easily I can let the “I” in my agenda very quickly take over. He’s been a good lesson in letting go and enjoying a little playfulness.

I’m not sure Dog-Dog agrees with me yet. The verdict on the little whipper-snapper is still out, pending the biting and general mayhem and disruption to his turf. 

This is when Blue and I like Puppy best. 

Soul Salamanders

Salamanders. That’s the sign, apparently.

The other day a friend of mine posted on Facebook that she had seen a higher number of salamanders than in years past. Specifically, she asked what people knew about “water mud dogs” and predicting the weather. This, of course, caught my attention. I’d never heard of a “water mud dog”. Fortunately, she clarified they weren't dogs at all but rather salamanders. I didn’t realize that their appearance was associated with weather patterns. Actually, I didn’t realize we had salamanders at all where we live.

Sure enough, a follow-up comment she received echoed her prediction. “They were so thick in the summer of ’07 we couldn’t open our door.” I cringed. That's nasty.

Turns out the winter of 07-08 was legendary for the amount of snow fall we received. It was so harsh the Colorado Division of Wildlife ended up dropping food for elk and deer to help them survive the winter. Even with those efforts large amounts died, unable to forage for their food beneath the huge layer of snow.

Another commenter asked if anyone else had noticed the high amount of mosquitoes towards the end of summer. They were, the responder pointed out, conspicuously absent during the early months. Surely this was yet another sign pointing towards a long winter with piles of snow.

Even the Farmer’s Almanac is predicting a snowy winter this year. But they don’t rely on just any ol’ signs, but depend on a carefully guarded secret formula, locked in a calculator, known only by one mystery person. The formula involves things like sunspots, moon phases and tidal action. 

In spring, as the winter thaws, locals point to the nearby mountain tops with their layers of snow, predicting the winds by the amount of white stuff still on the peaks. The more snow, the windier it will be. The afternoon winds die down when the snow melts, so they say. There might be some kind of scientific validity to this prediction, I'm not sure. 

I’m a big believer in signs or at least I like to think they really do exist. Sometimes, when I’m struggling with a big decision or problem, I like to treat the common objects in life like my own personal Magic 8 Ball. Like, for example, three years ago when I was struggling to make a decision about quitting my full-time career. I used to put all kinds of, what church folks call "fleece", before God. "Now God, I really want to do the right thing. If you are all right with my quitting, show me a sign. Like," I paused and looked around. "How about that traffic light turns red just as I come up to it."

Of course it stayed green. I'm pretty sure signs don't work that way.

I like to ask for falling star signs too, one streaking flash in a great, big sky dotted with sparkling and shimmering lights--  just for me. I rarely get that one either. I know. I know. The cosmos isn't a crystal ball at my command.

Mostly I think signs are more subtle, kind of like turning lights on a car, just giving us a slight hint that there's going to be a change in direction, maybe a closed door where we sought an opportunity or an open door that leads to an experience we didn't anticipate. Or maybe a flash of an idea or inspiration when we least expect it. Still, sometimes I long for something flashy, obvious and directive.

I think what I really want are a few soul salamanders.