Ineffable One, there is a haze of wanton disregard fogging the window to my soul; a fog of discontent that swirls around my deepest knowing; an arrogant knowing where, in it’s place, I need unknowing. Holy One, relieve me of foolish trust in my ability to live in perfection. Let loose the hounds of irreducible …
There is a state of being available to all persons everywhere that is readily found in that which most thrills the soul.
Music, writing, and poetry have always been the primary means by which I engage the Holy. More correctly, it is God’s way of assuring access to me, to my deepest parts. Perhaps it is the same for you?
May we be courageous enough to be vessels of grace and hope through and into which Easter still comes.
…caged and cradled in the heart of God, Easter comes.
On this day, many years ago, an ominous silence filled the world…
The Way of Jesus is utterly counterintuitive to all we’ve come to treasure.
I’m finding my soul’s middle ground. I bellow the fire of my spirit by smooring the fire in the hearth.
“The mysterious geography of prayer must begin in the cracks and fissures of the human spirit before it gets the added benefit of the babbling brook heard just outside the monastery gates.”
In the gospel, ashes are not a death, but a dare.
