I’m feeling like the weather today: gray and rainy, not much air moving…I was grateful when my doctor told me last Friday that what she found was not serious, just “a little virus” that would, unfortunately, probably hang on for awhile. My scratchy throat is gone and now distress is virtually “all in my head” but it amazes me how debilitating such a little thing can be. I think of my good friend and my sister-in-law, both suffering from pneumonia this month, and of all the people who are chronically ill, who daily have to struggle not to give in to the lassitude that has been my constant companion now for almost a week. I remember in my early days of teaching school when, during a class observation by the principal (my first), my eyes were running so fiercely from a head cold that I could hardly see and my fear was that Father Owens would think I was nervous. There was no luxury of staying home then; work was work, after all.
Today I am grateful for the privilege of rest, the ability to postpone appointments for the benefit of my health (and probably the health of others I could infect!), and the knowledge that my body will heal itself in the near future. All I need to do is cooperate. This hiatus is a good lesson in surrender for me and, for probably the first time in my life, I do not feel a need to resist! I guess I’ll go for my second cup of coffee now, and then…maybe a nap…
This morning’s Scripture readings began with the familiar phrase, “On that day…” that is usually followed with a promise of some import to be visited on God’s people. Today it is Isaiah promising “luster and glory…honor and splendor…” (IS 4:2-6). Promise for the future is important to keep us going; I spoke of it yesterday in terms of Advent and the coming of Christmas. But sometimes I wonder if we are really interested in the possibility that awaits us – or even if we believe what we are reading, perhaps based on what we have experienced in past years when the cycle has come and gone with little effect on our lives.
Psalm 84 is a wonderful reminder of God’s care. It’s the one that tells us that even a swallow finds a home in God’s house. Today as I was reading one of my favorite translations of the psalm, I was stopped at verses 7 and 8. Here’s what they said:
I have little to add today to all the wise and uplifting things that have been said about the word thanks or the action of giving thanks. Each of us has our own reasons for gratitude and ways of expressing it. If we say, as I often do, that right relationship is a foundational concept for acting in this world and that the concept extends not only to humans but to all creation and to the Creator as well, then today ought to be a continuous conversation of gratitude as we recognize the blessings that we have given and received.
I heard on the news last night that (if I remember exactly) 49.6 million Americans will be traveling during this Thanksgiving holiday week. I presume that means driving or flying somewhere, rather than walking down the block or across the yard. It’s always “iffy” at this time of year and with the weather of the past few days I’m sure there have been a lot of disappointed and/or frustrated folks on the highways and in airports. Then there are people like my sister who arrived from Pennsylvania yesterday as she wraps up a two-week “road trip” to visit friends in Virginia, Washington, DC and Maryland. She sat on Route 81 in Pennsylvania which had become a parking lot, waiting for only a bit less than an hour for a large boat to be resettled on its carrier. Not knowing what had happened up ahead, she sang at first with the music of her CD that was playing but then reached for the book next to her on the seat (an essential companion on any trip) until things got moving again.
Today is the feast of St. Cecilia, a person remarkable for her holiness, her steadfastness and her love of music. It is always amazing to me that people in the 21st century are inspired by someone who lived in Rome in the second century of the Christian era. The story of Cecilia’s life is sketchy but heroic. She lived in the era of persecution of Christians and she and her husband Valerian spent themselves before their own martyrdom in burying those who had been murdered for their faith. In the 16th century, her body was exhumed and was found to be incorrupt. There’s much more to say but my interest today was in the number of musical compositions that have been named for her – from Handel’s Ode to St. Cecilia to Paul Simon’s popular “Cecilia” in the 1960s!
Well, the storm that promised my “play date” in Latham took a breath yesterday and allowed me to travel home in safety. Overnight, in a second wave, what we had expected finally arrived so that schools are closed and the directive is for all of us to stay home today. Still looking for light (see yesterday’s post), I turned to a new book by Alan Cohen, 
It appears that we will be snowed in here today. The effort of the meeting facilitators yesterday to finish early today – by noon – was futile as there is a new and complicating wind advisory in the path of most of us toward home. Up early, we have already been checking maps and forecasts on television or computer or both. Nothing changes as we watch. It is only our willingness to surrender to this first winter event that will change anything (read: us!). So what will we do with this time that will likely stretch until at least tomorrow?
As I look out a west-facing window this morning in Latham, New York, I am drawn in by the reflection of what is happening on the other side of the building that I cannot see. The golden blaze of the rising sun is visible to me on the trees that still hold many of their leaves, burnished gold by this date but receptive to the illumination of the sunrise. This is a season of surprise as we are amazed when the temperature reaches 65 or 70 degrees Fahrenheit and then hear that tomorrow we will be shoveling snow! The environment can be such a goad to our learning of patience in swift change, all the while giving us gifts of beauty and terrifying power at the same moment sometimes.
The Sophia Center for Spirituality 