Weather Report

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flourish, gifts, Isaiah, Peace, purpose, The Sophia Center for Spirituality, weather

Once again the meteorologists seem to have been correct in their predictions. No wonder all the announcements of school closings were made last evening instead of waiting to see what would really happen. It had just started raining when those decisions were made around the supper hour and was still raining when I went to bed sometime later. Now, with the dawn, we have that combination of heavy snow covering what can only be a frozen base on our roads and the eerie quiet that means no traffic thus far this morning. I pray for all the “necessary staff” folks who are on their way to work because the snow is still coming at what appears to be a faster rate than any plow can match.

Even as I send out prayers for safety and give thanks for the gifts of home and heat, I am once again awed by the natural world that is playing out what may be (we hope) the last gasp of serious winter weather for this season. As I watched the snow intensify over the past hour and the wild swaying of the trees that seems like keening for some reason today, I heard the voice of Isaiah in my head offering a goad to perseverance.

“Even as the rain and snow come down from heaven and do not return to it without watering the earth and making it flourish, so that it yields seed for the sower and bread for the eater,” says the Lord, “so is my word that goes out from my mouth. It will not return to me empty, but will accomplish what I desire and achieve the purpose for which I sent it.” (And here is that purpose – the part of the message for this morning that I did not hear but was happy to read as I searched the Scriptures for Isaiah’s prophecy.) “You will go out in joy and be led forth in peace. The mountains and hills will burst into song before you, and all the trees of the field will clap their hands.” (IS 55:10-12)

And so we wait…

 

 

 

 

 

 

Count the Stars

Tags

Abraham, Abram, covenant, descendants, Genesis, God, night sky, silence, stars, The Sophia Center for Spirituality, weather

Last night when I finally turned off my bedroom light and got into bed I immediately had to get up again. I have a high window on the wall beside my bed and in the dark I saw that the night sky was resplendent with stars! I knelt on my bed to see what I could from there and then moved to the window that looks out on the back yard. Not enough of a view, I went into the room next to mine to see if I could escape the fullness of the trees…Not really. I needed to be outside to get the full effect – but it was late and, not willing to disturb the lovely, absolute silence of the house, I went back to bed, but smiling inside and out.

This morning I felt a little envious of Abram (not yet Abraham since God’s covenant with him was yet to be made) as I read that God took him outside and said, “Look up at the sky and count the stars, if you can. Just so,” God added, “shall your descendants be.” I can only imagine Abram’s feeling inside – a complex mix of amazement, wondering and perhaps doubt, since he and his wife were getting old and had no children. Maybe it was the enormity and beauty of the stars that convinced him to trust in God’s promise; the Scripture says that at that moment, “Abram put his faith in the Lord.” (GN 15:1-12)

Back in my own backyard, I was thinking more about the day with reference to Abram’s life and mine. The weather held everything yesterday: a cool breeze, magnificent sunshine, a quick, loud and torrential thunderstorm – even the smallest arc of a colorful rainbow, just for a moment – and, of course, the stars. I’m guessing, by what we know from the Scriptures and from what is easy to extrapolate from those texts, that Abram’s life was a bit like the weather – as is mine. It wasn’t all, as they say, “sunshine and flowers” but the rainbows and glorious night sky were likely enough for him to hold on when the hard times came. (Who of us would be happy to uproot our whole clan and move to another country at age 75? Maybe a modern-day refugee could give us a good sense what that costs.)

God made a covenant with Abraham that day and kept it. I’m certain that it had to be renewed in Abraham’s soul on a regular basis. We would do well to pay attention to the stars or whatever prompts us to bow down to the marvelous things God is doing in our lives that reminds us to stay the course for another day.

 

 

 

 

 

Close Call

Tags

alertness, brothers, calmed, fears, gratitude, Jan Phillips, lightning, safety, sisters, solidarity, storms, The Sophia Center for Spirituality, thunder, tornado, weather, wind

I often speak about the beauty and my good fortune of living in the Northeast region of the United States. Over the past few years my appreciation for this gift has grown as has my compassion for those who live in increasingly dangerous weather climates. Whether it be tornado, mud slide, forest fire or other damaging condition, we have seemed untouched, except for two floods in the last 43 years that caused damage but no loss of life. Last evening we got a taste of what it feels like to experience the likely possibility of a tornado.

It began in the afternoon when the warnings were announced on the media and in the palpable sense of danger when I stepped outside. I understand a little now how the animals feel when the impulse to move to higher or otherwise safer ground embedded in their being clicks on. It was as if a subtle pressure was leaning against my body and an alertness took over my mind. Then there was the inner call to get home, the place of safety, to ride out the storm together. Reports kept coming of damages in places to our south and west as we closed windows, moved outside furniture from the deck to the ground, turned off computers and unplugged everything else in the house. Then we waited.

I had worried in anticipation about two things: first that the roof would blow off the house and secondly that a branch of our huge, ancient maple trees would crash into the house. As soon as we made the preparations, however, my fears were calmed, as if being together was enough to remind me that we would be able to withstand anything the storm could do.

Most of our area is still without power this morning. Thunder, lightning and wind were certainly fierce but I have not heard if an actual tornado touched down. Once again I sit in gratitude for my life. Having experienced all the feelings of yesterday gives me a greater felt sense of solidarity for others whom I am more and more aware of naming my sisters and brothers. And again I hear Jan Phillips singing inside: Because the One I love lives inside you, I lean as close to you as I can…

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Snow Day

Tags

awareness, day off, luxury, prayer, safety, snowstorm, The Sophia Center for Spirituality, weather

The big news today on the East Coast is the snow. We knew it was coming – toward us both from the West and from the South – so clearly that this time everyone had time to prepare. The reactions to these serious but relatively rare events now in New York State are interestingly various. There is joy in the young population because this kind of snow means a day off from school. Oh yes, and most teachers are as happy (if not more) as the students. For police and first responders there is a hope that people will heed the order to stay off the roads so that they can be cleared – especially in case of emergency. There is probably trepidation for necessary employees at hospitals and nursing homes as they venture out in service to others.

For some people being “cooped up” at home is nerve-wracking but those of us who love the opportunities it affords: reading, catching up on housework, maybe an afternoon nap, these days are a luxury. Of course, there is also concern for the homeless and people who lose electricity during these events.

I have no deep and meaningful thoughts this morning, just an awareness of the diversity of experiences of people here and around our country with something as elemental as the weather. My brother will be leaving for work soon in short sleeves with no concern for travel except the wild drivers on the California freeways, at the same time as I hear absolutely no traffic on our road connecting New York to Pennsylvania. Today, then, I hope to spend a little extra time praying for the safety of all in our country and the world and in gratitude for those whose major work is to keep us safe.

 

 

 

 

 

The Restless Wind

Tags

Earth, fileds, hearts, home, mother nature, Native Americans, natural world, oneness, relatives, rivers, Sister Wind, skies, St. Francis of Assisi, The Sophia Center for Spirituality, trees, weather, wind

As light comes outside my window this morning I wake up to the fact that what sounded like a truck or a train passing by (no tracks here though…) was the wind. It’s as if the tree in my sight line is keening after a tragedy – as well she might, given the destruction yesterday in the Midwestern states where winds reached 165 mph, leaving whole towns in a shambles. When we used to say that “March comes in like a lion and out like a lamb,” we never dreamed of that kind of extreme force. It was just a way to characterize the vicissitudes of mother nature trying to birth the season of spring. It seems that by now, with all the talk about climate change and the advances in science, we would be shouldering more responsibility toward “Sister Wind,” as St. Francis used to call her.

I am not a scientist, by any stretch of the imagination, but this morning I cannot ignore what is right before my eyes. I do not understand why we in the Northeast are so lucky as to be virtually unscathed by the weather events that have been happening in different parts of our country over the past year or two. I’m sitting here watching our tree struggle as the refrain of a 1960’s song plays in my mind: The wayward wind is a restless wind, a restless wind that yearns to wander, and he was born the next-of-kin…the next-of-kin to the wayward wind.

Call me silly, but what if we were to consider all of the natural world as our relatives – as St. Francis and the Native Americans always did? Would we perhaps take better care of our trees and rivers and fields and skies? Would we heed the environmentalists a bit more seriously and be more gentle on our walk through this world? It seems to me that all of this follows from my reflections of yesterday about the necessity of recognizing that even now we can open our hearts a bit wider to the possibility of the oneness of all that exists, thereby taking a bit more responsibility for our actions toward Earth, our home.

 

 

 

 

 

 

Weather as Teacher

Tags

be ready, letting go, reversal, snowfall, stay awake, storms, surprise, The Sophia Center for Spirituality, unexpected, weather, winter, wisdom

I was just thinking, as I waited for the coffee to be perked, how winter in the Northeast can be a “wisdom teacher” in the life-long challenge of letting go. Surrendering to God each day for whatever will come is something we need to able to do with little notice depending on how reliable our meteorologists are in their projections. Today and this coming weekend are good examples. Huge storms are sweeping across the country from west to east and everyone assumes we are in the path of something. What that is exactly and/or when it will arrive remains to be seen. It’s possible (although not looking probable) that all the work I did to prepare for a presentation on the Incarnation for this entire morning could be for naught, if the lovely soft snowfall of the moment increases in intensity any time soon. I’m also scheduled in two hours to call our presenter for tomorrow’s 5-hour retreat to discuss whether travel from two hours away later today will be counter-productive. Better safe than sorry might be the wise decision. And so it goes for the entire weekend.

We talk a lot in our locale about the wisdom of suspending programs in the winter. But how, these days, does one determine when that will be? We just had the warmest autumn season on record and joke about the fact (although not always thinking it so funny) that maybe we’ll be having snow in May next year. It has happened before! So what to do?? It seems the best course of action to plan with our eyes open to the possibility of the plan being changed with or without our cooperation. And it’s not just the weather. Events have a way of taking over our lives so we better be ready to be surprised, remembering that we are not in charge but also that all surprise is not bad or frustrating. Who doesn’t like a snow day now and then? How can we celebrate a few “free” hours? What might we learn in an unexpected moment of reversal?

So as the Scriptures say: Stay awake! Be ready, for you do not know the hour when the Lord is coming! Good advice. And whatever comes, try to have a good day!

 

 

 

 

 

New Thoughts on Old Knees

Tags

Autumn Equinox, awareness, body of Christ, Corinthians, insight, intuitions, one body, patterns, St. Paul, The Sophia Center for Spirituality, weather

There’s been a subtle but predictable shift in weather patterns over the past week here in upstate New York. Coming close to the Autumn Equinox usually brings warm days with cool nights – and sometimes, if we’re lucky, glorious blue skies and lovely fresh air. We have been that kind of lucky for the past two days but there has also been some heavy morning fog and muggy stickiness to deal with on other mornings. I’m starting to feel my age as my knees and some of my fingers begin to react to these conditions, singing to me as I type and then stand up from my morning tasks. I have been lucky to stave off these signs of aging for as long as I have and I am still grateful that they do not cause any real limitation even now.

As I read 1COR 12:12, this morning’s very familiar beginning of two often quoted chapters from St. Paul, I had the flash of a new insight, one more new way of looking at Paul’s words that as a body is one though it has many parts, and all the parts of the body, though many, are one body, so also Christ. I have always seen that as a great analogy of our diversity as well as our connections to one another. This morning, however, I was aware of my knees as a vehicle of awareness – a way to remember and pray for those people in the world who have trouble walking or who cannot walk at all. It’s difficult to ignore the small intuitions of the onset of arthritis but recognizing the solidarity that can flow from that recognition could be beneficial to others in the same or a more serious condition.

I’m always grateful for my legs and feet that serve me so well each day. This morning I am even more grateful for this new way to pay attention in a positive way to their speaking, for the good of the whole body of Christ.

 

 

 

 

 

 

Weather

Tags

climate change, freedom, God, love, New Seeds of Contemplation, seeds, The Sophia Center for Spirituality, Thomas Merton, weather

These days we seem to talk about the weather more and more – not just with a passing comment about like or dislike but with a real concern for the wild shifts and storms that we cannot categorize as normal for a certain season. It is unnerving to watch reports of damage caused by weather conditions in our own country and beyond. We lament the changes and have begun to wake up to the possibility that humanity has not been the best caretaker of the earth, especially in the recent past. This morning a reflection from Thomas Merton’s book, New Seeds of Contemplation, put a frame around our relationship with nature that, were we to interiorize it, might help us to be more responsible about our choices and thus aid in restoring a balance with the natural world.

It is God that warms me in the sun and God’s love that sends the cold rain. It is God’s love that feeds me in the bread I eat and God that feeds me also by hunger and fasting. It is the love of God that sends the winter days when I am cold and sick, and the hot summer when I labor and my clothes are full of sweat: but it is God who breathes on me with light winds off the river and in the breezes out of the wood. God’s love spreads the shade of the sycamore over my head. It is God’s love that speaks to me in the birds and streams; but also behind the clamor of the city God speaks to me in his judgments, and all these things are seeds sent to me from God’s will. If these seeds would take root in my liberty, and if God’s will would grow from my freedom, I would become the love that God is, and my harvest would be God’s glory and my own joy. And I would grow together with thousands and millions of other freedoms into the gold of one huge field praising God, loaded with increase, loaded with wheat.

While We Wait

Tags

calm, consciousness, ice, pregnancy, snow, snowstorm, The Sophia Center for Spirituality, waiting, weather

I woke up this morning expecting to see snow outside – or at least a covering of ice from the sleet that was predicted as the precursor to a major snowstorm. I had already planned two or three days of cancellations, depending on where it happens when. But I’m still waiting. Cars are whizzing by on our road and my sinuses are telling me that it’s coming but I can’t call or e-mail anyone about late appointments yet. I have to wait for the first visible sign of what the reality will be. And I wonder what the status is in Syracuse, 80 miles away, where I have tentative appointments tomorrow and/or Thursday depending on the storm. It’s too early to call; I have to wait. I can feel the tension in my body and my mind. Once the precipitation appears I’ll be able to spring into action, make plans, see what’s possible and settle into an agenda that will probably take my work life most of the way to Christmas because of the rescheduling of this busy week. For now, though, I have to wait.

We all have times of waiting, some like my morning today. Sometimes our wait is long and much more meaningful – pregnancy, for example. And what a bundle of feelings and events accompany that experience! The Hebrew people waited for thousands of years for a Messiah; many still wait. Those of us who believe that Christ is the fulfillment of that promise are experiencing again the ritual of waiting as we count the days to Christmas.

I am full of questions this morning, occasioned by something as mundane as the weather. What is it really that I’m waiting for? How am I to be while I wait? Will my life be any different after Christmas because of having spiritualized these weeks of waiting – and, really, how am I growing in consciousness of my capacity for change until then? Maybe the storm will miss us and then I’ll just have to pick up and go on with the routine of the days that might have been an opportunity for silence and contemplation. But maybe this brief time has been enough. I feel calmer now, more awake. And isn’t that what it’s all about?