Having just stepped over the threshold into “the lusty month of May,” I was disheartened to see all the puddles on the deck of our house and the wind that seems determined to create another round of “pick-up-sticks” for my unwilling exercise regime. Checking the weather to see if we will truly have rain for the next six days, I found a reason to rejoice: every day of the next seven will see, at some moment, temperatures in the 60 to 70 degree range! Perhaps that is a silly thing to rejoice over but I always have such high expectations of this most beautiful month that I can’t help myself looking for anything that will propel me happily into the wide world outside.
There is much to recommend this month. For me the bright yellow of daffodils and forsythia have prepared the way for what looks to become a lovely (if late) flowering of the spring. Now to await the days of no coats but rather bright-colored clothing and picnics outside, longer days and looking at the night sky without shivering in the cold…All of the things that seem ready to raise spirits after a long and difficult winter are truly welcome.
More important than external signs is the hope that lives in my heart. The thanksgiving for gifts that lift the spirit – small things or great – remind me that this is the season of “Alleluia” so that even in the midst of trial and bad news I can walk and talk and see the beauty around me even when clouds appear. It may take some effort but that is the call of the dawning of light each morning.
Thanks be to God!
I’m happy this morning for a tiny bit of good news: The Boston Red Sox won the World Series last night! (Sorry, I was born and half-raised in Newton, a suburb of Boston, and it’s generally impossible to get that heritage out of a girl!) I consider, however, as I revel in that news, how complex we are – able to entertain that kind of celebratory feeling at the same time as sensing such anguish for the people of Pittsburgh who are suffering the heinous crime of the Tree of Life Synagogue massacre. One hardly knows how to hold it all, especially because the murder of those innocent people follows on the heels of two other incidents of senseless killing in the same week. Things seem to be devolving into a deeper darkness with each day’s news. The questions now come from a place of near-frozenness: When and where does this stop? What will it take to cause a course change?
The psalmist is “waxing eloquent” this morning. As Psalm 8 rings in my inner sight, I recall the beautiful blue sky and sunshine of yesterday afternoon as I drove and sang with the accompaniment of longtime liturgical musicians whose music always stirs me to praise. This weekend was well begun last evening (see yesterday’s post) with a sellout crowd for our communal “walk down memory lane.” I look forward to a full day of enthusiastic sharing in words toward a hopeful future and feelings of gratitude for what we have been given throughout our history from our roots in 17th century France to worldwide service in love of God and neighbor.
I’m looking out at serious snow this morning…as promised by meteorologists whose forecasts seem to be more frequently correct these days. Perhaps their instruments truly are quite improved. They couldn’t have missed this one though. It appears that the storm is affecting most of the Midwest all the way to the East Coast. And the flu remains rampant.
Today I sit staring at a blank page, feeling a bit empty, as happens sometimes on the Monday after an important holiday. While I was not counted in the millions of people who took to the road or the sky over the weekend to be with faraway relatives or friends (the return trip perhaps not concluded yet), the Thanksgiving holiday just concluded seemed to me to hold more energy than usual in the wishes of “Happy Thanksgiving!” shared sincerely among friends and strangers alike. Maybe we needed some distraction from all the distress of our country and the world that made us try harder to find the joy of sharing. Maybe it was just the slowing down and relaxing together that pervaded our household. Whatever the source, I feel the need to regroup today so that I will live consciously throughout the wonderful season of Advent leading to Christmas. As the world turns from another beginning to a conclusion marked by the calendar of feasting and celebrations, I am heartened and challenged by Thomas Merton’s words to wake up and get about this new day.
Santa Claus arrived with a flourish yesterday at the culmination of the Thanksgiving Day parade in NY City. He was quite animated, bouncing and waving in all directions to announce that the run-up to Christmas had begun. Although Hallmark movies had been filling the airwaves with Christmas carols since sometime in October, now it’s official and very serious. The internet is awash with advertisements for all kinds of amazing discounts on products and services. I heard on the national news last night that even airline ticket prices are slashed “for a limited time.” What began as a day-long opportunity for deep price reductions on the day after Thanksgiving has been running for a week already, but is still named, ironically, Black Friday.
This morning I have a stream of gratitude moving through my consciousness, flowing like a mountain stream, bubbling up with images of people, places and events that have created the collage of my life in the past year. At the same time, it’s as if there is a camera clicking in me to set those experiences in place on the canvas of 2017. Because I’m writing about it, the whole experience has become like a freeze-frame of a film and won’t start moving again until I turn back from this explanation to the experience inside me. At that point I suspect what will happen is akin to the result of a bucket of water thrown onto the canvas – or perhaps the “fade” button on a movie camera being pressed – so everything melds together into a heartfelt sensation of grateful love.
Today I am filled with gratitude for all that was experienced during the meeting that I was anticipating yesterday at sunrise (See my previous post). Generosity of heart and spirit flowed throughout our deliberations. Insights shared around our tables of six or seven broadened our perspectives and laughter punctuated the process of coming to the weighty decisions we had to make. In the end thankfulness poured out in a powerful prayer of blessing for those women who will lead us forward into the future. I will bring this remembrance to the table on Thursday as we celebrate our Thanksgiving dinner at our home.
Sometimes opportunity is so fleeting that we easily miss it if we aren’t paying attention. Take, for example, the coming of light to the sky. That’s something that happens every morning so it’s often taken for granted. Today, because of the shift to Daylight Saving Time, I was happy to see that it was in process as I started the trek downstairs for my coffee. Had I not been paying attention when I sat to write on my return I would have missed a breathtaking red sky whose glory dissipated within two minutes. I was almost too busy reading Paul’s staccato-like advice to the Romans in chapter 12 to look out the window. Both “feasts for the eyes” were worthy of a pause.