I started up the stairs with the intention of an early post this morning but – as often happens – many things intervened. I had, however, already read Psalm 90, the lectionary psalm for the day, so a melody was already on replay inside me as I walked. Whether good fortune or not I am often “gifted” with a song in my head for a day or more when that happens. Today was no different but today I know it to be good fortune, just the kind of reminder I need in the run-up to Lent. Here’s the refrain (even though it took me till 1:00PM to say it!). See if you can accept and affirm it perhaps as a mantra for the entire six weeks.
In every age, O God, You have been our refuge. In every age, O God, You have been our hope.
If said repeatedly each day when reviewing happenings, it might put a new spin on things, helping to find a new perspective sometimes, or a new level of trust in the events of the day. Even if none of that happens, you may grow more positive, knowing that God is present in every event of every day.
I was jarred into wakefulness this morning by a paragraph in Alan Cohen’s book, A Deep Breath of Life, that reminded me of something I believe about perspective. I trust that I have the power to choose the way I look at life. Here’s how Cohen described it.
We’re bracing for a storm here in the Northeast. It’s no surprise. In addition to the reports coming in from all across the country to our west, the traditionalists just say, “We always have one doozy of a storm in March – usually in the middle – before the surrender to spring.” I learned early in my life that “March comes in like a lion and goes out like a lamb.” It’s predicted that we will have 8 to 15 inches of snow, more than my town has had this whole winter season!
Yesterday at the meeting of our “Wisdom Practice Circle” we were missing two of our members, one of whom was our “token male.” We never think of Don as “token” and spoke clearly at the end of our gathering about the fact that there was a slightly different feel in the energy of the group this time. Of course we also missed Estelle’s deep and meaningful reflections, as we do when any one of us is absent, but it was instructive to notice a subtle, unexpected shift that seemed due to Don’s absence, because his participation in the circle is always comfortable, seamless. As I think about that, however, I realize that his perspective on points of discussion is often dissimilar – one might say “fresh.” Perhaps therein lies the beauty of a complete circle that manifests both the similarity (peaceful presence, in this case) and difference (male perspective, for us yesterday) of human possibility.
On days like today when we have been once again faced with senseless, unspeakable violence, this time on a scale not seen before in our history, it is difficult to even begin to speak of it. My first thought this morning was of a line from Scripture: A voice is heard in Ramah, mourning and great weeping, Rachel weeping for her children and refusing to be comforted, because they are no more. (JER 31:15) As we turn in prayer toward the people of Las Vegas – for that seems the only thing to do as the tally of dead and wounded continues to rise – we must lament, as individuals and as a nation. And in the face of the distress in this dawning day, I turn to Meg Wheatley for a way to persevere.
It’s amazing what you can find when you start researching one little word like “fair.” We know it to be a noun and an adjective – with differing meanings, so it’s necessary to put it in context so that you know whether you’re talking about going to a carnival or watching the weather. I went to Merriam-Webster, the most trusted etymological source in my youth, just on a whim, and found 10 examples before I even moved to the nouns or added an “ly” to make it an adverb.