Sr. Sarah gave a great talk Monday night on “God, are you listening to me?” I will upload the recording–although sorry to say, it is filled with a LOT of static. (Still working on the cause of that . . .) She has promised to re-tape it. Anyway, I want to at least refer you to something she quoted in her talk. You can find it here.
Drops of water
“Our sins are like a drop of water in the ocean of God’s mercy.”
Royalty
Royalty
He was a plain man
and learned no latin.
Having left all gold behind
he dealt out peace
to all us wild ones
and the weather.
He ate fish, bread,
country wine and God’s will.
Dust sandaled his feet.
He wore purple only once
and that was an irony.
~Luci Shaw
Hope for the pharisee
Today’s gospel reading is the story of the tax collector and the Pharisee, which brought to mind this hope-filled reflection by Sr. Ruth Burrows will encourage those of you who find it easier to identify with the Pharisee than the publican:
Perceptive, quick to see the flaws in another, I was prone to criticism, finding a certain satisfaction in seeing another at fault as though this, in some way, raised me up. I knew that no fault would so displease our Lord or stop his grace as this harsh judgment on his children. I realized I had the mentality of a pharisee but, I thought to myself, if a pharisee had turned to our Lord and admitted his hardness of heart, his crabbed, mean spirit and asked for help, our Lord would have helped him. So I did the same. The pharisee became the publican. I came to realize that temptations to pride, the sins of the pharisee, could make one a publican. The stone which the builders rejected could become head of the corner. I tried to use these bad tendencies to grown in humility.
The power of an apron
A good goal for Lent–a realizable one–could be to “Come away for awhile” with the Lord. The space of time might be only 3 minutes. Susanna Wesley, mother of John and Charles Wesley and 17 others, used to throw her apron up over her head in the middle of the kitchen as a sign to her children that she was praying. Remember that children pattern themselves on what they see their parents do. (Actions speak louder than words . . .) I read this post from Ann Voskamp this morning and thought it was not only a brilliant idea for children, but also for us who are called to be like a little child: “How to make and take a peace retreat”. Praying that you find a corner or a chair and three minutes today to come away with your Beloved.
It’s really all about you
I was going to start out this post by reminding you–and me, of course–that Lent is not all about you; it’s all about Christ. It’s so easy to get focused on what we’re doing for Lent, etc. But then I got to thinking and realized again that actually it is all about us. The love of the Father is always about us, about drawing us to Himself, about manifesting His love to us through His Son. These 40 days of retreat are meant to draw us into a deeper knowledge of that love.
“Whatever he did, whatever he said on earth, even the insults, even the spitting, the buffeting, even the Cross and the tomb, were nothing but yourself [Father] speaking in the Son, appealing to us by your love, stirring up our love for you.”
~William of St. Thierry
New every morning (repost)
Feeling a need for something from Amy Carmichael, so I browsed through my posts of hers, and I thought I would “re-share” this one with you: New every morning. Have a blessed day!
If only you knew . . .
I got behind in reading my Magnificat Lenten Companion, so you can imagine my surprise when I read the devotional for Sunday only to find it mapping on so well with what I wrote yesterday. (Honest, I had not read it before posting.) From Frances Hogan, commenting on the Gospel about the Samaritan woman:
God, who is every-present to his creation, is hidden in our daily encounters. If we open our eyes we will meet him in a visit from a friend, or a “chance” encounter in our everyday lives. He waits patiently for us to awaken to his presence and begin the life-changing dialogue with him, like the Samaritan woman at the well does. He whispers to our souls, “If only you knew who is here.” . . .
The Samaritan woman, at the beginning of the conversation, had no clue who she was talking to . . . and how true is that for us as well? As I wrote yesterday: “Don’t miss God’s visitation to you in the midst of whatever you are facing. He is surely there, and He will be found by you.”
God’s visitation
A word for those of you who are in very challenging or distressing situations, situations that you hope are a dream you will wake up from. Last year I found myself in just one of those situations, and a very wise priest said to me, “Don’t miss God’s visitation in the midst of this.” Don’t miss God’s visitation to you in the midst of whatever you are facing. He is surely there, and He will be found by you.
“Night is not dark where she shines bright”
That line, taken from the line of a song about Mary, reminds me of a poem by Jessica Powers that Iwould like to share with you this Sunday:
And in her morning
The Virgin Mary cannot enter into
my soul for an indwelling. God alone
has sealed this land as secretly His own;
but being mother and implored, she comes
to stand along my eastern sky and be
a drift of sunrise over God and me.
God is a light and genitor of light.
Yet for our weakness and our punishment
He hides Himself in midnights that prevent
all save the least awarenesses of Him.
We strain with dimmed eyes inward and perceive
no stir of what we clamored to believe.
Yet I say: God (if one may jest with God),
Your hiding has not reckoned with our Lady
who holds my east horizon and whose glow
lights up my inner landscape, high and low.
All my soul’s acres shine and shine with her!
You are discovered, God; awake, rise
out of the dark of Your Divine surprise!
You own reflection has revealed Your place,
for she is utter light by Your own grace.
And in her light I find You hid within me,
and in her morning I can see Your Face.
Witnesses to Hope 