You are currently browsing the tag archive for the ‘trust’ tag.

Creator God of ever-expanding universes, be mindful of Planet Earth’s contagion that seeks new hosts to infect, new reversals to upend, new spirits to crush. Protect us from whoever or whatever foisted this ghoulish scourge upon us.

Continue deepening our willingness to contain its spread, whatever the cost. Continue humbling us before its enormity whose duration lies in the unknown. Continue prodding our conscious participation in each twenty-four hours. Continue helping us be mindful of others and their needs.

Our lives and livelihoods hang in the balance of this global upheaval, fraught with dark wisdom. From this crucible of suffering must emerge fresh paradigms for more meaningful care for each other and for Planet Earth.

Help us become aware of these patterns as they surface and practice them. We renew our trust in Your gift of Life: each moment, so precious.

Amen.

 

Like summer sprinkles, warm feelings soothed me as I awoke to this morning’s dream and recorded it:

I’m homebound as I await knee surgery. A dear friend comes by with her black and white shaggy-haired dog. Immediately, the dog approaches me, nuzzles her head against my thigh. I lean over and stroke her soft head. She squeals with delight. I also learn of a heavily researched series featuring Jesus of Nazareth. It will be filmed in the Holy Land near the time of my surgery. I’m very excited. Not wanting to miss a single program, I inform my surgeon and his nurse.

My scheduled knee surgery suggests a correction of my hobbled spirit stunned by the global pandemic and glitches of my terminal illness; it attracts my Dreamer’s intervention to repair the corresponding disconnect within my psyche. Such is the mystery of its on-going care.

The dear friend, a carrier of the Sacred Feminine, suggests hands-on relating: both her soulful presence and her black and white shaggy-haired dog disrupt my brain fog and restore feelings. With her pet, I also squeal, and the fissures in my psych coalesce into wholeness. Yet, there is still more healing.

Jesus of Nazareth appears stirring dormant passions: Long an integral part of my spiritual landscape, especially during Gloucester directed retreats, I heed the call to reopen the gospels and interface them, anew, with my end time.

And the Holy Land, imaging Creator God’s continuous action in time/space, bespeaks the planet Earth in the throes of turmoil. This will work out, with valuable life lessons for all.

Gratitude to my Dreamer streams from my depths, keeps me humble. On my own, such repairs are impossible.

 

 

I sit in my wing-back chair, the Jerusalem Bible upon my lap. It is morning, another day of global infection: Its potential for calamity looms, its tentacles of poison sicken, its withering of lung cells horrify and shorten lives—the numbers mount. Smidgens of fear brush my mortality, already primed by my terminal disease.

Still, I am prone to the sludge of sloth, to distractions of the latest reports that roil my depths. If unaddressed, only panic ensues, and I choose not to go there.

Instead, I enter within the psalmist’s imperative, Seek his face—a redirection toward Spirit where, alone, wiggle-room-faith unwinds and stretches tall.

Like gardeners harvesting seeds of spent flowers in bags, I collect my scattered energies and focus upon the present moment in which grace abounds. No longer do my self-imposed limits stifle my breathing. Today, I pray to be teachable, to live with the unfamiliar and the unpredictable as they unfold.

There’s always more to learn. Why am I surprised?

 

Available on Amazon

%d bloggers like this: