Lent thoughts – Blessing

Today’s Lent reading brought me to this from Jan Richardson. It made me smile. It made me want to paint it, but suspect that working and baking and stewing won’t allow time for that yet. Not today anyway. But I leave it with you… it is a gift for you.

This blessing
has been waiting for you
for a long time.

While you have been
making your way here
this blessing has been
gathering itself
making ready
biding its time

This blessing has been
polishing the door
oiling the hinges
sweeping the steps
lighting candles
in the windows.

This blessing has been
setting the table
as it hums a tune
from an old song
it knows,
something about
a spiraling road
and bread
and grace.

All this time
it has kept an eye
on the horizon,
keeping vigil,
hardly aware of how
it was leaning itself
in your direction.

And now that
you are here
this blessing
can hardly believe
it’s good fortune
that you have finally arrived,
that it can drop everything
at last
to fling its arms wide
to you, crying
welcome, welcome, welcome.

Image result for horizon

Reflection on Christ Church’s silent retreat

One of the participants in our wee parish silent retreat a few weeks ago shared with us her reflections. She has given permission for them to be shared here too.

Morning has broken; the second day
Paintings to focus our thoughts
Poems to deepen awareness
Spiritual truths embedded in
Walking through trees and shrubs.
The wind whistles at this season of Pentecost
Blowing where it will through our inner being
The heart
The mind
The spirit
Searching for our inner response.

At our Eucharist the candle flickers
Then leaps into being with a sudden breath of air
Only to die down just as suddenly out of sight
But the flicker is still strong
A continual presence
Our togetherness in silence is the essence.
The overwhelming sense of each journey is strong
Private, individual,
Yet each heart beating at an inner level
yearning for communication
searching for a destination.
Or maybe the journey itself is enough for now
For God to mean more to us
not less.

Trinity Sunday
Father and Son
The Spirit’s grace
in the smiles of each face.
The Peace.
Hands clasped and touched
The unspoken expresses so much.
The bread and wine shared
The Christ who cared
enough to die for me
The Agony but oh what ecstasy
That he rose for all eternity.

And finally
A blessing.
The face of Christ on our TV screen
Reflects our own faces
A profusion of green
From the trees in the garden beyond our wall
The wood of the window
Like the cross behind his head
Drawing us into his sphere
Of love so near.
And as we pray together
our journey continues
in word
and in silence
from here.

by Gillian

Anam Cara

(for Josie)

On the day when
the weight deadens
on your shoulders
and you stumble,
may the clay dance
to balance you.

And when your eyes
freeze behind
the grey window
and the ghost of loss
gets in to you,
may a flock of colours,
indigo, red, green
and azure blue
come to awaken in you
a meadow of delight.

When the canvas frays
in the curach of thought
and a stain of ocean
blackens beneath you,
may there come across the waters
a path of yellow moonlight
to bring you safely home.

May the nourishment of the earth be yours,
may the clarity of light be yours,
may the fluency of the ocean be yours,
may the protection of the ancestors be yours.

And so may a slow
wind work these words
of love around you,
an invisible cloak
to mind your life.

(from Anam Cara – Spiritual Wisdom from the Celtic World by John O’Donohue , 1997)

( © John O’Donohue. All rights reserved)

Wedding Blessing surprise

“At a wedding ceremony that I was performing, I raised my hand to give the final blessing. The bride misunderstood my gesture and surprised me with a high-five. Not wanting to exclude the groom, I offered him a high-five, too. I was finally able to get my blessing in, amid the laughter of the guests.”

from Rumors