Light

So...it is that long-awaited day, the day of the eclipse. So much hype and so many people running all over the country. It has been interesting to watch, especially as a Wyoming child, seeing the throngs of people move through all those small towns. We were content to be in our mountain home and enjoy the 93% that happened here. We had no glasses but I remember as a child when I saw an eclipse the sky was kinda boring but everything else was magical. This time was no different. As I was watching and pondering and even meditating outside I was overwhelmed with powerful thoughts. If I had turned around and stared at the sun, I would have damaged my eyes permanently. We cannot handle that kind of light. It is the same with God. We cannot handle his brilliance with our mortal eyes and yet he is shining on us always. True faith comes not from demanding to look at the light, not demanding proof and seeing all of his light for ourselves before we will believe, but in turning our back and allowing the light to shine safely on our backs while we make beautiful shadows and do great things from the light that is shining on us always. Spending our energy demanding proof or demanding that God show us his love by what he gives us, like some kind of Santa Claus, is damaging to our souls, it leaches the greater vision from us and we lose the ability to see and to be warmed and strengthened. And there are times of eclipse. There are times in our lives when trials or emotions or struggles come between us and the light and there is a drop in temperature and there is a dimming of the radiance and the birds stop singing and everything feels dull and we can be frightened or feel despair. It is then that we must remember that the light has not moved, it is not going anywhere, circumstances or our own decisions have caused a cloud or a body to pass between us and the light but it will pass, the light is available still in full force, we just have to either wait it out or make new decisions that will cause the interference to move along. And even as the darkness is blocking the light from hitting us fully, we can dance, just like the leaves on the trees, and make magical, half-moon shadows and that in itself will cause the darkness to move along more quickly, bringing us back into the fullness of light. God is my constant. I am grateful for the light that I feel shining on me. And...now...my job is to keep dancing, to keep making my shadow something of beauty no matter how much of that constant light happens to be shining on me at the moment.

Place of worship and comfort

There are many different places of worship. There are those who find temples in nature, in their own homes, in a ballpark, and, yes, in a theatre. Today, I got the news of the loss of a dear man who was a friend and a colleague and I am devastated. My heart shattered as I tried to grasp that, after such a long battle for his health, Scott is gone. I was struggling to get my emotions under control as I headed to the high school for the parents' meeting for Seviah's volleyball team. While my intellectual self knew that it was 6:00 and that most everything save the gym would be locked up, I said a prayer that perhaps I might be able to get into the auditorium. You see, this was Scott's realm. This was his place of worship. And this particular stage at Platte Canyon High School was where he had spent his happiest days (and those are his words, not mine). In one of those beautiful tender mercies that God and the universe will send our way when we most need it, the auditorium was open. I listened in on the parents' meeting and then I slipped away and sat in the dark auditorium and sobbed my heart out. It was so right. It was where I needed to be, in a place where Scott was so at home. Life feels rather like a blank, empty stage right now. Now we have to build a new set and locate new props in a show that no longer contains Scott LaBelle as a character and that hurts more than I can express but I would still take this pain over the thought of never having acted alongside Scott on this world stage. "He was a man, take him for all in all. I shall not look upon his like again."

A refuge in the storm

Yes, this is a tree, just the trunk of a tree, but this is my blog/journal and I wanted to have a photo to remember this experience. If you look close enough you can tell that this tree and the ground in front of it have a dry spot, surrounded by lots of sogginess. We made a trip to my beloved Bok Tower Gardens on Sunday and we got there and made the trek to the tower just in time for two things, the 1:00 concert and a heavy downpour. We all ran for the shelter near the tower but I could not hear the bells from inside the shelter due to the rain pounding the roof. So I grabbed the umbrella from my husband and I headed out into the rain to see if I could find any sort of sensible place to hear the concert. You see, the numbers that were listed in the concert included Ben Jonson's Drink to Me Only With Thine Eyes as well as Bach's Organ Concerto No. ! and so it was seriously like the concert had been chosen especially for me. I just couldn't let a little rain cause me to miss it. As I wandered around the tower, getting more and more drenched, I suddenly noticed that there was a large Spanish Oak, right next to the tower that seemed relatively dry on one side. I headed there and propped myself and my umbrella as strategically as possible against that trunk and I had a front row seat to the most wonderful carillon concert! As I stood there with my eyes closed, contemplating and taking it all in, the thing that so often happens to me at that place occurred, I got a word stuck in my mind. The word "refuge". As I listened to the music and let the word steep through the layers of my brain, so many of my favourite psalms kept floating through my thoughts. The Lord is identified as a refuge time and time again in these verses that I love, and he is indeed a refuge but refuge isn't always comfortable. The origins of the word mean to "flee back" and that is what the Lord is, he is a place you can run back to in times of trouble. However, even as the tree gave me some measure of dryness and safety, it wasn't a complete shelter. The Lord seldom gives complete shelter either, we must deal with the natural consequences of free will as well as weather some of the storms of being human but he never forces us to weather them alone, there is always some sort of refuge available. Again, it is often not as complete a refuge as we might wish, but it is a strength and a place of safety nonetheless. Then there often comes that moment when someone comes along and wants to share your refuge. As I stood there listening and meditating, Karl came to find me and startled me as he snuggled in under the umbrella to share my small, dry space. I am not gonna lie, there was that split second when I felt that flare of frustration, of wanting to keep the entire place of refuge to myself. But my better nature quickly took over and I scooted and let him in. Now the refuge was less comfortable but also warmer as it was shared and we were both less alone. Sharing our refuge can be a tough choice, but it is always the right choice and sharing will nearly always bring added safety and strength. And I felt peace, peace that I only feel at certain times and in certain places and then I carry it with me in that still place inside of me to pull out when needed. I am deeply grateful that I have an awareness that I am not alone, even when I am uncomfortable, that I have someone to turn to, someone to lean my back on, even as I battle the demon(s) in front of me. Oh, and Bach's Organ Concerto No. 1 is the perfect music to accompany this blog post. Listen to it some time, it sounds like a storm at the beginning and then resolves itself into a celebration of conquering.

Act when you are prompted to move!

I just had the most remarkable experience. I was sitting in my office, working at my desk while the rest of my family snored in front of the television, when suddenly I was lifted out of my chair with a strong impulse to take a walk out on the property. It was so strong that I didn't even bother to put on my good hiking shoes and grab my hiking sticks (kinda sorry about that now, honestly). I put on the gardening crocs that sit by the back door and I headed up the mountain. It was a glorious early spring evening in the mountains and for no other reason than that, I am grateful that I was shoved out the door. I stopped and gave the horse some loves as she is truly a needy Diva but the push to keep moving was strong so I didn't dilly-dally, I headed up the mountain. My favourite place to meditate is the rocky outcrop near the top of our property and I tried to stop there but the spirit was not having that and I kept on hiking higher up to the neighbor's mountain. Let me be clear here, we have a great relationship and understanding with our neighbors and they are comfortable with us climbing around on their property, so I was not trespassing! I got to the top of the mountain and it was so beautiful. The moon was out and shining off of the still-white Mount Rosalie and I can see forever up there but there was specific stuff for me to see and contemplate there. I sat down where I was led and quickly spotted the piece of nature that the spirit wanted me to consider. So I sat and I studied and I pondered and it was powerful. Then the moment came when I was released to return and I stood and took a number of photos and then removed the crocs and did some earthing and stretching and then, just as darkness was descending and it was critical for me to get down the mountain while I still had enough light, the moon broke through the clouds and a Western Meadowlark landed on the tree through which I was watching the moon and he sang his heart out to say goodbye to the day. It was beyond glorious. Reminded me that there is another blog post that I need to compose concerning those "pause and take a breath moments" in nature. Then he was gone and I was once again pushed, only this time I was pushed down the mountain before the light gave out. I am now back at my desk but with an entirely different outlook on life and I am so grateful for those pushes that come in our lives, even when we didn't know we needed it! I will add photos, they will likely mean nothing to you, but something might touch your heart and my special moment will be recorded. I will not share the message I was given, but if you get a message from any of these photos, I would LOVE to hear about it. Thanks!

Every part is important

I saw The Book of Will last night. This play is the dramatized story of the friends of William Shakespeare who came together and, at great labor and cost, created what is termed the First Folio, a beautiful gathering in one place of all of his plays. If you know me at all then you understand the depth of emotion that I felt as I watched this show. I am grateful to Laura Gunderson for her efforts in writing such a work. I even agree with the liberties she took! I couldn't sleep last night for the thoughts that were dancing through my brain and I fear that I will be restless tonight if I don't get some of these thoughts down in black and white.


Many of my current Bible study students are beginning to grow weary of my constant referring back to my most favourite chapter of scripture but I just cannot help myself. I know that there will be eyes rolling out there as they read that last line because I am forever claiming verses and whole chapters as "favourites" but this one has been my consistent go-to chapter since I was a fairly young person. In chapter 12 of 1 Corinthians, Paul outlines the importance of spiritual gifts and then goes on to describe the way we need to use these gifts in a way that causes them all to work together as one, therefore enhancing our own gifts as well as the gifts of everyone around us. He uses the analogy of a body, that every part of the body has an important part to play and that if any part is lost then the entire body struggles.


Okay, The Book of Will and the story it tells illustrates exactly what Paul is begging us to recognize. Yes, Shakespeare was the genius but he was not clever enough to bring his works together for posterity and he was able to continue writing plays because of the powerful performances of Richard Burbage that drew in audiences. And without the scrivening talent of men like Ralph Crane to put the words down for the actors there would have been nothing to pull from to publish. Then you have John Heminges and Henry Condell. Without John's financial management the King's Men would not have enjoyed the success they knew and the friendship of both of these men is what led to the intense labor of gathering the scattered remnants of Shakespeare's works and editing them to give us the cleanest copies possible of his plays. If any one of these people had chosen not to follow through with his mission and not utilized his spiritual gifts then we would not have the works of Shakespeare and I cannot even imagine what we would be missing in the culture of the entire world really and I don't even want to consider the loss in my personal life if I did not have the richness that Shakespeare has given me and continues to give me every day.


Some of us are a Shakespeare, some a effulgent Burbage, and some of us are an OCD Ralph Crane and every one of us is as necessary to creating wonder in the world. I will refer back to the words of Paul since, like Shakespeare, he says things so perfectly. "There are, it may be, so many kinds of voices in the world, and none of them is without signification." (1 Corinthians 14:10). Go and get busy creating wonder in your realm and with your gifts!

She beheld a mystic image

Oh. My. Goodness. If you are not engaged in meditating, I don't know how many times and ways I can tell you to get going with it, it will truly change your life. I just had the most stunning experience in a meditation moment and I wish there were a way for me to bottle this feeling and give it to others but that is not how it works, others have to find this for themselves. (Sigh.) I want to share this as far as I am able to with words. I fully understand that this may mean nothing to most people but if I can convey the power that this moment held for me, perhaps, even if they are rolling their eyes at what touches me, they will go seeking for such a connection for themselves.


Looking back, I can see that there were a number of small occurrences throughout this week that led me to this moment and the peace I now feel, moments good and bad. I am grateful for each of the things that drove me out of the door of the house this afternoon, sobbing. I was so overwhelmed and beat down and just felt, down to my very core, that I was never gonna say or do the right thing for those who most depend upon me, including myself. That is a dark place. Thank heaven for the voices of those who have been guiding me that pushed me out and walking as a way to cope and manage. I headed out into this blissful false spring that we are enjoying in the mountains of Colorado right now and struck out for the far reaches of our property where I could be removed and alone. I ranted and raved and swore and spat and kicked all the way to the top of the hill where I sat down on the rock outcropping and tried to get a handle on myself. After allowing myself a few more tears, I began some deep breathing. The calm came quickly and I began to look around as I was breathing to see if there were something that God was going to use in the nature around me to speak to me (that is often how we two communicate). BAM! So quickly it was there. A tree. Right in front of where I was sitting.

Most will not be able to tell but while this tree is green but it is not perfectly healthy. It has been affected, for quite some time, by dwarf mistletoe. Dwarf mistletoe is a parasite that lives for years off of a tree and doesn't really kill it, not outright, but it does drain some of its energy and it causes a strange growth pattern in the branches. It causes the branches to grow downward, rather than straight or up towards the sun, which is the natural pattern. The branches grow downward and resemble a broom and thus the phenomenon is called "witches brooming". The picture below shows inside to some of the branches and gives you a better idea.

All of this would not be evident to most people but with my background and training I could see it right away and it took my breath away when I saw that tree as a metaphor for me. Earlier this week I had been traveling in the car with my youngest child and the song that I now recognize as the song of meditation for me in my youth came up on my iPod shuffle and I had the opportunity to explain to my girl what this song had meant for me even back when I didn't know what meditation was on a formal level. As I looked at that tree, a line in that song flowed through me and I knew I was being led and taught. You see, I am a tree (or a Silken Tent, my favourite poem, which was also running through my mind at this point) just like the tree I was facing. I have quite a bit of witchesbrooming on some of my lower branches. Unlike the tree, I have mostly chosen those who get to feed from me and my energy but in giving of myself and my energy I have been affected and drained of essential energies. And that's okay. It is okay because I am being supported and buoyed up by a God whose love I feel every day. And you know what, the metaphor for that God was there before me as well.

If you look up from the areas of witchesbrooming on the affected tree, you will see that her higher branches are still growing correctly and she is growing right next to a monster of a tree that she is leaning on slightly and he is offering her support. They even make music together when the wind hits them and their branches rub and sway together. This is how I can keep going. This is what I need and precisely the message that could offer me peace even in the midst of major turmoil happening in the lives of those I love. And as all of this rushed over me, the tears began again but they were the cleansing kind of tears this time. What a blessing. I wish there were a way that I could just infuse what I felt there on that mountain into those I love but, unfortunately, they have to get out of their own heads and find it for themselves.

As I sat there, now able to truly breathe deeply and in peace, a beautiful small voice whispered the following thought to me, "Your problems are the blessings that others are begging for." I am not going to get into the problems that me and mine are facing but this struck me so hard that I nearly fell off of the rock that I was perched on. MY (OUR) PROBLEMS ARE THE BLESSINGS THAT OTHERS ARE BEGGING FOR! Now, this is not the case with every single one of my problems, but many of our struggles are a result of choices, good choices, that have brought us to this place and I need to own that. I cannot express how huge this was for me.

I wrapped up my time away by taking off my shoes and relishing the feel of the earth beneath my feet as I stretched and stretched. "Stretch" is the word that God has given me to ponder this year and as I stood next to these trees that had just offered such powerful lessons to me I again heard that precious soft voice whisper, "Stretch toward God". This has many layers of meaning and I will be pondering that at length over the coming days but it was just one more powerful truth offered to me there on that mountain to carry home and back to reality.

I cried on my way up the mountain and I cried on my way down but they were vastly different tears. I am loved and I am whole and this is the life I have chosen for myself and I wouldn't have it any other way. Please, anyone who is still with me at this ending, just try meditating, just try being alone and talking freely to whatever it is that you believe to be a higher power. This may be a rambling mess, but it is real and there is peace to be had!