Advent Week Three

When the Lord restored the fortunes of Zion,

then we were like those who dream.

Then was our mouth filled with laughter,

and our tongue with shouts of joy.

Then they said among the nations, 

"The Lord has done great things for them."

The Lord has done great things for us,

and we are glad indeed.

Restore our fortunes, O Lord,

like the watercourses of the Negev.

Those who sowed with tears

will reap with songs of joy.

Those who go out weeping, carrying the seed,

will come again with joy, shouldering their sheaves.

Psalm 126

The Way I See It: Peace

“You have been given questions to which you cannot be given answers. You will have to live them out - perhaps a little at a time."

"And how long is that going to take?"

"I don't know. As long as you live, perhaps."

"That could be a long time."

"I will tell you a further mystery," he said. "It may take longer.”

Wendell Berry, Jayber Crow

I am beginning to realize that an eternal perspective is essential to peace.  I am not the beginning and the end, the world is not revolving around me; the story is so much bigger than my immediate life, or even my entire life.  That is a relief to me.  It is funny how when I come to accept that fact it makes life more precious, each moment more available, and life itself more peace-filled.
 

Each week I look out at the world through Molly's photo prompt and I see this creative exercise weave its way into my contemplation and prayer. Not only has peace been a photo prompt, it has been part of the Lectionary at church and therefore the subject of a fabulous sermon.  These familiar words were perfectly timed:

Do not be anxious about anything, but in every situation, by prayer and petition, with thanksgiving, present your requests to God.  And the peace of God, which transcends all understanding, will guard your hearts and your minds in Christ Jesus.

Philippians 4:6&7

Not unlike joy (and if you missed the discussion on joy, you can find the post and the wise and encouraging comments here), peace is one of those things that can seem elusive, diminishing when life gets hard. But the peace we want is not based on ourselves, our circumstances, this moment in time.  It is the peace that comes from putting worries into thankful prayers, and seeing God's peace guarding our hearts and our minds in Christ.  Wow.  That is the kind of peace I want to know.

There is something about the changing seasons that reinforces this eternal perspective and its peace.  The darkness comes earlier, and we have time to light candles and enjoy the evening.

 

The acorns are falling, the leaves are changing colors, the time for planting bulbs and cutting back perennials is here.   As a friend wrote to me this morning, "Life is precious...I keep thinking about how life changes so rapidly while pretending to stay the same, and telling  myself to really be in each moment, appreciating, savoring.  I think if we could really know what a fragile gift life is, we would be living more peaceful, kind, and loving lives."  Some seasons do pretend to stay the same, to last forever, and yet it is in the changes of the natural world that we are reminded again and again that time is marching on.

We have been hit with two rain storms in the last week, and as I type this morning the rain drops are loudly landing on the roof.  The ground is happily soaking up the water, and I can see bits of green overtaking the depressing brown of summer.  Seasons change, time moves on, worries will come and go; the constant can be thankfulness in prayer, and finding true peace as my heart's guard.

The Way I See It is a weekly photo prompt from Molly at Close to Home. I have been so happy to see two friends joining in: Tolle Scribe and The Autumn Rain. Next week's prompt is growth...why don't you join in the fun, too!

As the rain...

 Red geraniums after a welcome summer rain

As the rain and the snow
   come down from heaven,
and do not return to it
   without watering the earth
and making it bud and flourish,
   so that it yields seed for the sower and bread for the eater,
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.
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.

Isaiah 5:10-12

Morning mercies

The view out my window this morning

You have moved my soul far from peace; 

I have forgotten prosperity. 

And I said, “My strength and my hope 

Have perished from the LORD.”         

Remember my affliction and roaming, 

The wormwood and the gall. 

My soul still remembers
And sinks within me.

This I recall to my mind,
Therefore I have hope.
Through the LORD’s mercies we are not consumed,
Because His compassions fail not.
 

They are new every morning;
 

Great is Your faithfulness.
“ The LORD is my portion,” says my soul,
“ Therefore I hope in Him!”

Lamentations 3:17-24

The ministry of tears

When my sister died in 1993, I had three children, ages three, almost two, and a wee little three month old baby.  They were each so little and all so in need of a functional mother.  At one point in the days after Liz's death, a friend of mine shared a concern:  "I don't think you are crying enough."  At the time, I was hurt by her assessment.  I felt pressured to do this grief thing right, and the idea of being a failure, on top of all the pain of losing my sister, was horrible.

The thing is I was convinced that if I started crying I might never stop, and then what would happen to my dear children?  What if I could not care for them?  And so it is true:  I did not cry enough.

As I look back over the last seventeen years, I realize that what began in 1993 as a way of surviving and caring for my children has become a bad habit, an unhealthy thing.  I have been unable to cry in a cleansing, cry-until-you-are-done sort of way since those dark days of 1993.  That is way too long.




This last week has been very difficult for several reasons.  In my distress, I reached out to a friend of mine, a monk I had met through friends, and he sent this advice to me: 

"Shed tears, lots of them."

As I read those words, something in me cracked, broke, and opened wide.  Tears are flowing, and it is a very good thing.

The ministry of tears, my own tears, is a gift I didn't know to ask for.  It was a freedom that had so long been denied that I could not offer it to myself, but it was a great gift to be given permission to simply cry.  Now in sorrow and in worry I can feel the balm of the Holy Spirit washing over me, healing me, bringing me hope in the midst.  It is so good to be crying again.

In my distress I called upon the LORD, and cried unto my God: he heard my voice out of his temple, and my cry came before him, even into his ears.  

Psalm 18:6

What do blue bottles have to do with tears?  See my post here.

The difference it makes

The Incarnation.
Advent.
Christmas.

Sometimes I can miss the point.

But then life gets messy and frightening and I realize:

The Incarnation is my rock.

The REALITY that the Son of God was born and lived and died and rose again is IT.

This is not a seasonal celebration; it is my very life and breath and meaning.

More than ever I can relate to Peter.  When Jesus was asking if the disciples, too, would leave after being confronted with the stumbling block that is the body and blood of Christ, he answered:

Lord, to whom shall we go?  You have words of eternal life.  And we have believed and have come to know that You are the Holy One of God.  John 6:68-69

It turns out that Advent is a matter of life and death, my life and death.

Luke 19: 37-40

And when he was come nigh, even now at the descent of the mount of Olives, the whole multitude of the disciples began to rejoice and praise God with a loud voice for all the mighty works that they had seen;

Saying, "Blessed be the King that cometh in the name of the Lord: peace in heaven, and glory in the highest."

And some of the Pharisees from among the multitude said unto him, "Master, rebuke thy disciples."

And he answered and said unto them, "I tell you that, if these should hold their peace, the stones would immediately cry out."


There is something very comforting about the fact that if I should fall down on the job, if I should "hold my peace", nature itself would pick up where I left off, a relay of worship not solely dependent upon me.

Put thou my tears into thy bottle

Psalm 56:8-12 (KJV)

Thou tellest my wanderings: put thou my tears into thy bottle: are they not in thy book?

When I cry unto thee, then shall mine enemies turn back: this I know; for God is for me.

In God will I praise his word: in the LORD will I praise his word.

In God have I put my trust: I will not be afraid what man can do unto me.

Thy vows are upon me, O God: I will render praises unto thee.

**********

The imagery of God saving our tears in a bottle may very well be why I collect glass on the window sills in the kitchen. When I was a new and young Christian, I read these words and it struck me: my tears, my sorrows, matter. They matter to God.

It is not crying season around here, but there have been times when I had to imagine a bottle the size of New Jersey when I meditated on Psalm 56.

Speaking the truth to myself

What do you do when worries assail you? When the darkness seems to be winning over light and hope?

Yesterday was just such a day. There are plenty of real and imagined problems in this circle of quiet...some are today's concerns, some are tomorrow's possibilities, and I am not doing a great job of remembering what is true. Why is truth so hard to grasp?

So last night I ventured out to water the yard. I breathed in lavender and rosemary, surveyed bolted lettuce, picked (and ate) tomatoes from the vine, and planned for fall plantings. I wondered about fruitless bean vines and over-planted beds resulting in chaos. I walked under the towering sunflower, saw the rising moon in the sky, and watched the canopy overhead change from blue to periwinkle to black. Somewhere in the midst of the sprinkler's spray, the mosquito's buzzing and the slurping of tomato juice, I found a moment's peace and could remember these words of timeless comfort:

Come unto me, all ye that labor and are heavy laden, and I will give you rest.
Matthew 11:28

Our Father, which art in heaven,
hallowed be thy name;
thy kingdom come;
thy will be done,
in earth as it is in heaven.
Give us this day our daily bread.
And forgive us our trespasses,
as we forgive them that trespass against us.
And lead us not into temptation;
but deliver us from evil.

The Lord's Prayer

The Truth doesn't take problems away; it didn't, in fact, help me sleep last night, but it is True. And truth matters.

For Steph

Psalm 121
A song of ascents

I lift up my eyes to the hills—where does my help come from?

My help comes from the LORD, the Maker of heaven and earth.

He will not let your foot slip—he who watches over you will not slumber;

indeed, he who watches over Israel will neither slumber nor sleep.

The LORD watches over you—the LORD is your shade at your right hand;

the sun will not harm you by day, nor the moon by night.

The LORD will keep you from all harm—he will watch over your life;

the LORD will watch over your coming and going both now and forevermore.

Steph is a friend, yes, another friend, who is asked to venture to the edge of eternity with a dying loved one. Sending you love, dear Steph.

Lord, have mercy!