not even one?

        What if God is always coming to me in each present moment, no matter how busy or blind or disinterested I am? What if He is always knocking and calling (in every sight and sound, joy and pain) and waiting to be welcomed in? If He is, then today has no mundane moments -- not even one.

"Never let yourself think that because God has given you many things to do . . . pressing routine jobs, a life full up with duties and demands of a very practical sort -- that all these need separate you from communion with Him. God is always coming to you in the Sacrament of the Present Moment. Meet and receive Him there with gratitude . . . ; however unexpected its outward form may be receive Him in every sight and sound, joy, pain, opportunity and sacrifice." Evelyn Underhill

“I stand at the door. I knock. If you hear Me calling and you open the door, I will come in. . . .” Revelations 3:20

oh

     Sometimes “oh” is a complete sentence.

     If somebody tells me his plans, “oh” may be more respectful than offering my unsolicited advice.

     If somebody tells me about her world, “oh” may be kinder than “that reminds me of the time when I. . . .”

     If somebody gives an opinion (especially one I don’t agree with), “oh” may be more welcoming than airing my own views on the subject.     

     “Oh” takes the pressure off. It lets the other person speak in a more leisurely way, and it lets me listen in a more leisurely way. It gives us both breathing space.

     Sometimes, with words, less is more.

 “[P]ay attention . . . also to the interests of others.” Philippians 2:4

like an ocean

      I have been watching a mother and a father with their child. They watch his every move. They enjoy his laughing and his dancing and his resting. They hurt when he hurts. They hold him close. They pour into him like an ocean.

     So I wonder.  

     Does God watch my every move and delight in my delighting and hurt in my hurting and rest in my resting? Does He pour into me like an ocean?

“God gives each one of us His undivided attention.  And through this spacious channel . . . pour the ocean-tides of His love.” James J. Daly

“The Lord . . . delights in you. . . .” Zephaniah 3:17

“As a mother comforts her child, so I will comfort you.” Isaiah 66:13

still unfurling

     Leaves unfurl little by little. It doesn’t happen overnight. It takes time and light and warmth and good soil and water. At first, they are tightly wrapped. Then one small tip unfolds and then another until they are completely unfurled.

     We unfurl little by little, too. It doesn’t happen overnight. It takes time and light and warmth and good soil and water. It’s hard to imagine now what we will look like completely unfurled.

 Father, when I get impatient with myself or ______ today, please remind me that we are both still unfurling.

 “[W]hat we will be has not yet been revealed.” 1 John 3:2

the forest dance

     I sat for a while watching the beauty of the morning sun dancing on the forest floor and dancing on the green leaves. I didn’t envy the beauty I saw. I didn’t want to make it my own. I didn’t compare my own beauty to the beauty of the forest dance. I didn’t think of myself at all. I just watched, free and easy.

     Then I wondered what today would be like if I watched other people the way I watched the forest dance – enjoying their beauty and letting it water my soul.

     So I tried it at a party. I looked for beauty in everybody I met. I enjoyed their stories and their eyes and their laughs and their looks. I let their beauty water my soul. I didn’t judge or categorize or compare them to myself. I didn’t think of myself at all. I just watched, free and easy.

     Thank you for shining through.

“In Your light, we see light.” Psalm 36:9

stop look and listen

     When kids are learning to cross the street, we teach them to stop, look and listen first. “If your ball goes into the street,” we say, “don’t just run into the street after it. First, stop, look and listen.” They practice, and after a while it becomes a habit.

     Yesterday, I practiced, too. Instead of just running to my usual kneejerk reactions, I practiced stop-look-and-listen before I started worrying or labeling or giving an opinion or whatever. It gave me just enough time to relax my grip and breathe a deep breath and ask for help.

     Stop-look-and-listen was a relief and a surprise. Even the half hour on hold with customer service didn’t tie me in knots.

     I’m going to practice again today. I hope it becomes a habit.

“Gentle me / Holy One / into an unclenched moment / a deep breath / a letting go. . . .” Ted Loder

“[A]sk God, who gives generously. . . .” James 1:5