Is it time?

How long should I wait?

Is it time to go back?

But then again, it's not really going back.

I've changed.

It's going forward.

It's a new day.

Will my voice sound different?

Will I be afraid? (Protect me Lord, from my enemies.)

You know, Lord. You know.

The Word became flesh and pitched His tent next to me.

I have redemption by my side.

It might be so much better.

Like everything I did before was from the shallow end of the pool.

What will it be like to sing from the deep end of the ocean?

Oh, my soul. Now sing my soul. Oh, to sing my soul.

Lord, let me know.

Let me know, if it is time.

(photo from some microphone vendor site, not taken by me)

Mary Go Round

"One more time!" I'm bid to spin.

"Faster, faster, round again!"

How could I turn away

that grin?

The rusty bars

my fingers clasp.

"Hold on tight!"

Don't lose your grasp.

The weight of my frame

leans into the turn.

My feet pound

the dusty, dry ground

and burn.

I toss myself onto a vacant space,

For a moment enjoy the wind on my face

Until my head swims dizzy. Uneasy.

My stomach turns over

down

right

queasy.

Why do I keep going around?

My feet need solid, steady ground.

On this ride THAT has yet to be found.

Is it time to get off this Mary go round?

"Mary, spin some more!" you say.

No more spinning.

No

way.

Now don't be sad.

Do not dismay.

For later on, this very day

(When) You tire of turning

You want to stop spinning

Your feet are grounded

Your lips again grinning.

I'll be waiting

In the shade of the tree.

There together, at rest

we can B.

Friendship...giving it a Name

Jean's Tree

Christmas is a time of expectancy--a looking forward to what is coming. A time of opening ourselves up to the new gifts that love brings our way. And a time of reflecting upon the great gifts that have already been extended to us.
My thoughts turn to those I love and desire to bless with some small token, with a meaningful gift of some sort. God has richly blessed me with precious relationships: My Beloved Matt, whom I love so much it makes me ache, whose deeply rooted goodness, integrity, and humility always win out. Whose strong arms of faithfulness, loyalty, and unfaltering commitment have held us through the storms.
My three Daughters...my greatest treasures, the stars that light my Mother Crown.
My parents...whose greatness in the kingdom will one day be known ("by their fruit").
My "Elizabeth" with whom I walk in an echoing journey of faith and hope and love, and who proves to me by her witness that I am not alone.
My brothers who will climb Mt. Katadin with me this summer even if I have to carry them down. (I was thinking that maybe, if necessary, they could slide down "The Chimney", Dad.)
My "White Wizard" whose wisdom is so cloaked in humility it's wonder is missed by most who rush by it.
My "Peter" who is far from me in presence but not in fondness.
My dear Carol whose dogwood branches arch over me with love.
My daughters in the faith who now look upon my journey with some confusion, but one day will be reassured.
My Lord, whose arms will one day physically wrap themselves around me.
And there is still room in my life for more treasures to come...
But on this day, in this season of reflection, this post is to honor a very special gift.
A gift that only Heaven can give.
Frodo had his Sam. David had his Jonathan. I have my Jean.
Oh, we do laugh about it. That scene in Lord of the Rings where Frodo realizes that what he carries is too burdensome for everyone else. Frodo takes off alone in the boat and yells to Sam on the shore that he has to go the rest of the journey alone. Sam yells back as he walks into the water, "Sure you are--and I'm going with you!" It's rings so true. We laugh that I finally named one of my children (our dog Sam) after her. I tease her that she's my Jeannie in a bottle. (I need to get you one of those outfits!!) My kids call her Aunt, and unfortunately she's mistaken often for my mother. (I tell her its only because I look so young.) :-)
Jean and I have been friends for 12 years. Our friendship has been stretched and evolved, and been changed and purified over that time. We have both matured as individuals and our relationship has been enriched and reflects that process as well. It is hard work to be as close as we are and have our friendship reflect Godliness. And I'm blessed, so blessed to say that I believe it does.
Some people are uncomfortable with our friendship. Judge it. They blame it for things it isn't responsible for. Some are envious of it. It is only because they don't understand it. Perhaps they can't trust that two women could be so close in a friendship without it being tainted by too much loyalty, or by a a self-centered neediness. Ah, but there is no such thing as too much loyalty. There is only misplaced loyalty. A pure friendship is rooted first in a loyalty to Christ, a commitment to fulfill His purposes in the life of another, a determination to find our needs met in our Saviour so that we can give and bless the life of another and meet the needs of another as a gift from God, a gift so much more fitting than one we can offer in and of ourselves. Yes, the gift of true friendship is a calling. And Jean, I believe, has been called to be my friend.


Her calling has expressed itself in different ways at different times. It is not an exaggeration to say I would not be alive today were it not for her care of me at excruciatingly difficult times in my journey. She has been called to minister to my children when my arms were stretched to wide or were too weak. She has reassured my family of God's work in my life when they were afraid for me. She has given greatly to make space for Matt and I to have time to deepen our relationship. She has been my spiritual guard, protecting me and going before my every battle with prayer. She has often been my companion in difficult tasks. She has so often interceded for me before the throne of God that the blessings and answers that I have received as a result I'm sure that I will not know the extent of until the hereafter.
All of those have been wonderful things, but there is a new expression of our friendship that has blossomed that is the sweetest yet. It is the dance of reciprocity. When we were at the retreat, we were able to spend some time with just the leaders, Ken and Katherine. Now Ken and Katherine are an intriguing couple. She seems quite a bit older than him, and physically frail to some degree. But they are so connected spiritually. It is almost like they share the same spiritual space. As if there is a circle of three--God, Ken, and Katherine, and they commune together, and listen together, and each have their role and place in the dance and from their dance they communicate a beautiful truth that speaks forth into the life of others. They tend so gently and beautifully to each other, respect greatly what God is doing in each one as if it were crucially important to what God is doing together in them and through them. It was a beautiful thing to witness the tenderness shared between them for each other and for God's work in each other.
As we were sitting with Ken and Katherine, they spoke to us about our friendship. We had said very little about it, so what they spoke they spoke because they had eyes to see. Ken said he felt it very important to "name" it. That what was present in our friendship was very special, very important, and very powerful. It was a calling. They talked about how in the Quaker history they almost always were sent in twos: the minister, the one who had the message, and the elder, to help the messenger. He said that in his relationship with Katherine, they took turns in their role as messenger. Every relationship is different And he clearly saw a very special bond between us.
In a later session, they were talking about the dance of spiritual reciprocity. Ken used his hands as an example. "Both are strong," he said. "But their strength is different. The right hand might take the lead, or perform the action, but the left must be just as strong in a different capacity: perhaps to hold fast or to support. Both must care and tend to the work of the other."
When you think of that, and add the element then of the Spirit who moves in and through those hands, you get a beautiful picture of a dance of reciprocity, both with each other and the Spirit of God. Ken and Katherine have that in a marriage relationship. I have the blessing of that in a friendship. And I am very grateful to Ken and Katherine for helping us to see our friendship in a new light.
As I look at how Jean has been a friend to me, especially over the last 4 years, there is no other way to describe it, and so I will name it as an Act of Worship, to her Lord, to her God, to her Adonai.
Our friendship is one means through which we can worship God together. It is becoming a sacred space where we can listen to God together and minister not only to one another but to those around us as well. It is a beautiful dance of reciprocity. And it is a gift from God. One that I cherish, and will work hard to protect it through purity...through not allowing anything to taint it.
Jean and I took a walk one afternoon during the retreat to "listen" to God as we walked, mostly in silence. These reeds were dancing in the wind. The two pictured below seemed almost to be tending to each other as they were blown together, apart, and together again. It was a beautiful representation of my friendship with Jean.



Perhaps that makes you uncomfortable. Ahh, but there is so much that makes us uncomfortable only because we can't imagine that it could be truly pure. But we have the gift of purity through the ever present redemption in Our Lord Jesus Christ.
So this post is to name what has been, is, and will continue to become a true picture of friendship as God intends it to be, a picture of friendship redeemed, in purity as an act of worship to our Lord.


Jean, my friend, I love you dearly.
Merry Christmas
B

Season's Greetings

photo by Bgrace

I can't believe Christmas is only a week away. Time is just flying by. It seems like yesterday we were cleaning up the dishes from Thanksgiving. I love this season. But I've truly learned to love every season. I'm so thankful for all the blessings in my life--the greatest are these: to be content, to see beauty in all its forms and to notice the way it surprises us in the common and uncommon, and to love. To love and be loved. These blessings transcend every season. They are present in all seasons. Sometimes we just need eyes to see them. That is my Christmas prayer for all of us.

I hope to bring all that I am learning about the Beatitudes together in written form, and perhaps that can be my Christmas gift to you, but that is not always on my timetable.

God bless us, every one.

B

Resting

In My Father's Arms

Photo by Bgrace

Transcendent Joy

"transcendent joy"

photo by bgrace

During an afternoon session of the retreat, we divided up into small groups. Christiane, George, Paulette and I stayed in the library sitting room where most of the sessions were held. I liked that room. There was a fireplace in it and over the fireplace was a painting of a plant, but I noticed that its leaves, green and red, reminded me of flames, and it became a kind of symbol to me of the burning bush. I was hopeful that God would show up and speak to us.
The group that I was in was an interesting mix. Christiane was French, and I loved to listen to her no matter what she said. Her accent was fabulous. George was a science teacher in the public school system, very well read, intellectual and yet also a bit touchy feely about stuff. A little eccentric but very likeable. Paulette--now she was very interesting. She had an Obama pin on her jacket and lots of slogan attire. She was a music teacher in a public school. She looked Irish, but was from the Midwest. And she was raised Catholic, though it was not a very good experience, and had become Quaker. She had been spending a lot of time putting Quaker quotes (think George Foxe) to music. She had this gorgeous deep, throaty, singing voice. A very powerful Celtic sounding voice that was surprisingly strong coming out of such a little body. She had been battling Lyme’s disease and depression for a while and seemed very much at the end of her rope. Like coming to the retreat was a desperate last resort for some hope.
Well, we were supposed to discuss some pre-directed questions, but it didn’t quite work out that way. (It wasn’t my fault this time, really.)
George had looked up the word beatitude and starting talking about some of the roots of the word. Happiness was one of the root words. He started talking about what happiness really means. His experience was that though his life was far from perfect he found himself happy. There was this idea of transcendent happiness in his experience. He told the story of his favorite Aunt who was dying. He went to see her on her deathbed and her parting words to him were this, “Whenever you think of me, think of me wishing you joy.”
As he spoke many things in my spirit started to merge together and I began to think of a book that I had just read in the children’s section of Barnes & Nobles called “Ode to Joy”. It was a simple story of a little girl who noticed a homeless man that no one else had time for. She had a special part in a play—just one line—and she invited the man to come to the church to hear it. The play began and it came time for the little girl to say her line, but she looked out into the audience and didn’t see the man. So she waited and waited. Everyone in the whole room waited. It seemed like forever. But she just knew he would come. Finally the door at the back of the sanctuary opened. Gingerly the homeless man walked in, and she knew then she could shout her words with all the gusto a little girl’s spirit could put forth. Her one line rang out, “Behold, I bring you good tidings of great joy!” (At that point I had tears running down my cheeks, which was a bit awkward in a bookstore.)
Many of the Quaker’s at the retreat, though they respect Christ, would be a bit hesitant to call themselves “Christians.” (And certainly very wary of the term evangelical.) Jean and I had realized this on Friday of the retreat and had spent time late that Friday night going over what was happening in our spirits. We shared communion together and prayed. I had this sense that Jesus was going to show up in someway if we would pay attention. So as George finished his story, I knew God was leading me to speak.
And so I shared with them this:
“The picture that speaks so clearly to me of transcendent happiness is the phrase, “I bring you good tidings of great joy.” But what is this news? The birth of Christ, yes. But it was not just the birth. For every player in the story there was both joy and pain. Mary would suffer greatly. “A sword would pierce her own soul.” Many suffered greatly after Herod’s decree that children were to be killed. All of Jesus’ disciples lives were marked with suffering and Jesus himself bore the greatest suffering in carrying the sin of all humanity. There were moments of GREAT PAIN, GREAT BEAUTY, and GREAT DARKNESS, and GREAT JOY. But the path of the cross was necessary, for it was the path to RESSURECTION, and REDEMPTION.”
If we miss the idea of transcendence we have no category to understand pain, disappointment, loss, and darkness in the overall picture of redemption, beauty, and joy. It’s in the arch of transcendence that we see it. It’s all in the beautiful rainbow of God’s promise. Light pierced. Light refracted.
I stopped talking because I realized I had said all that I had to say and the three of them just sat there looking at me like we had all had this really beautiful transcendent moment together. Paulette broke the silence and said in a tone that revealed a bit of disappointment, “I don’t have this Jesus experience that many of you speak about.” “I can’t relate to it or connect to it.” “Is this just a picture that we see throughout all of life or do we have to go through a personal experience of great pain in order to be able to have this joy?” And then she looked at me with her eyes sort of piercing my soul and said, “Are you speaking from your own experience?” It got very quiet in the room. And I said, “Some of us go through Job’s path. And yes, I have had my Job experience. The point where we have lost every human reason to hold on to God and all who would know our experience might say, “Curse God and die.” That is the blessed opportunity to choose to say as Job did, “Yet though He slay me, still I will trust Him.”
I started to say some things to Paulette that at this point I don’t remember. I believe that they were words from God to her because she began crying and nodding and writing them down. They spoke to her in ways I could not have known. My flesh was itching to share the Gospel with her, but I knew the Spirit was telling me to wait. He had not yet cut the path before my feet.
I have no recollection of what happened in the group after that, other than that we hugged each other at the end and I prayed for Paulette's healing from Lyme's Disease. But at lunch that afternoon, Paulette came and sat by me. She started to share some of her story with me. She was very much on the Obama campaign trail and seemed to be a very committed Democrat. (I’m not making any political statements for or against this, only trying to give you a picture of what was important to her.) She was involved in the public schools and very concerned about serving people and doing good things and VERY stressed because she can’t ever seem to do enough. And she brought up about the quotes that she was putting to music, and how she was comfortable with the Quakers, but was really struggling with the Jesus connection—that her experience as a young Catholic hadn’t given her any help. But she felt God was seriously calling her to do something with her music and yet she didn’t think the people around her were able to get it. And as she was talking I felt a strong sense that God was asking me to speak to her and I said, “Paulette, this really strong sense is coming over me. (I saw the acknowledgment in her eyes and so I continued.) "I believe you are feeling it to.” She nodded and started to cry. (And I teared up too at this point.) “I believe that it is the Spirit of God.” She nodded. And I said to her in a very soft and gentle voice, “You are terrified of Jesus…terrified of Jesus.” She nodded emphatically. Her eyes looked at me as if she was at such a loss with how to understand it all. Then I said, “You don’t need to be because He loves you very much.” Simple words, no earth shattering insights, but the arrow went directly to the core of her heart with the power of God.
Jean (who was sitting with us) looked at me, and I knew she had been silently praying throughout the conversation. It was a beautiful, humbling moment. A treasure, as I told Paulette later.
After dinner that evening, Paulette and I had a chance to talk, and she told me that she knew Jesus was trying to reach her. She had a vision a few years before where she was following a bunch of people in an assembly line. They all had stampers on their backs (like the kind you use to stamp “PAID” onto a paper) and she saw one being taken off the back of the person in front of her and it said, “CHRISTIAN.” She realized that she was afraid of ever being labeled a Christian. We spoke a bit about her perceptions of Christians and their reputations and how all of her friends and community she is a part of would never want to be associated with them because of how judgemental they are and closed minded, etc.
I encouraged her to read the Gospels. “Sometimes Jesus’ followers do great damage to representing the true Jesus,” I said. “Perhaps you can rediscover Jesus for yourself. And let HIM teach you.”
I knew that was all that I was to say. That was my part in her journey. The rest was in the hands of the One wooing her.
I knew that throughout the weekend, in the midst of all her confusion about what was truth, and who Jesus was, and what He was doing in her life--in the midst of all that--in a sort of transcendent way she had experienced a bit of true joy. I could see it in her face and in her eyes.
My joy was that I experienced in a very sweet and gentle way the truth of the words, “I am not ashamed of the gospel, for they are the power of God for those who believe.” (Rom. 1:16)
And I experienced the power of what it is like for the Spirit of God to go before us and bear witness so that our message comes not “with wise and persuasive words, but with a demonstration of the Spirit’s power.” (I Cor. 2:4)
By the way, if you noticed in my post on Advent, there was a photo of a figurine of a pregnant woman kneeling by the Advent wreath. Christiane brought that to our last session together. She said she had been carrying it with her all weekend and wanted to share it with us. I thought it was quite perfect.

Asking the Beatitudes 3 Questions...

“(if only it were this) well marked”
photo by Bgrace

Today my fingers are itching to write. I can hardly contain myself. I went over some notes from the retreat and my thoughts are beginning to come together regarding the big picture. But I won’t get too far ahead because I want you to come along with me in the writing process. Then we’ll see how it will all come together in the end. Please feel free to add your thoughts/insights to the mix. (And no, it’s not too late to post a comment on an earlier post or send me an e-mail about it.) Dad, I’m waiting for an e-mail from you with lots of meat.

Our retreat leaders, Ken and Katherine, asked us to meditate upon 3 questions regarding the Beatitudes:

What are these statements?

Are they separate or are they related in some way?

Do they tell a story? If so, whose story?

So I took my notebook and my Bible and took some time to “listen” to the passage.
Here is what came from that:

"What are these? Observations? Yes, but perhaps it is also an invitation. Would we be willing to become so blessed? To entrust our lives to God’s sovereign hand that He might orchestrate that which would bring us to a place of blessedness? To the place of emptiness and change.
The moment of natural emptiness is the opportunity for spiritual fullness.
We become blessed as we are emptied. Then we are able to receive, able to contain the blessing. We are becoming blessed.
Whose story is this?
I was surprised at the answer that came to me. Perhaps it seems obvious, but I had never thought of the beatitudes as Christ’s story. But clearly they are the path that He walked. In the beatitudes He calls us to His very own pathway. The beatitudes are echoed VERY closely in Philippians 2.
We are invited to become like the prophets before us and to become as Christ Himself who made himself nothing, taking the very nature of a servant, being made in human likeness. Who humbled himself and became obedient to death.
His blessedness—His greatest reflection of the glory of God—came in His woundedness. Are we willing to enter into this woundedness, this emptiness, experience loss (leave mother/father etc.), this detachment from all that would bind us, humility, a place where we have cause to show mercy to the merciless. To let go of all that would keep us on our own way instead of Christ’s way. Would we become citizen’s of heaven’s kingdom and heaven’s way?
Would we invite the pain of all that must be lost in order to receive in tandem the great joy in heaven’s bestowment of this great grace that changes us as it fills us with the fullness of Christ Himself? The fullness of Love."

Here’s a few things from the rest of the group and from our discussion that I wrote down. (The one’s that spoke most deeply to me are in bold.) There are some real gems in here, so take time to really grasp the depth present in these thoughts:

The Beatitudes were given to the disciples to prepare them to become true followers of Christ.

They sum up the way of living life in the Spirit that reaps the rewards of heaven on earth.

They are precepts and also promises.

They are Jesus’ way of turning the world upside down.

They are a reframing of things. Not seeking for earthly rewards.

Seems to echo the idea of “harder for the rich man to enter into heaven than camel to go through the eye of a needle.”

An archetype of the hero or heroine’s journey. You AWAKE and if you are willing to be present, it takes you into the longing for something better. It INVITES you to something better. It’s like a river you cross with no return. Jesus is saying, here is an invitation to the journey and this (the beatitudes) may be what the path looks like.

Words are sacred vessels. If we take care of them what might they hold?

It is difficult to stay open in the middle of the pain to stay open to receive the blessing.

Excruciating—the words mean cross of joy.

If we are going to be open, we need to be open to all of it.

Are we expecting God to meet us on our own terms, or on His terms?

We have to be expectant, but not have expectations.

Joy and persecution in the work of peace.

Isaiah 54 (another piece of the blessing)

Isaiah 54
The Future Glory of Zion

1 "Sing, O barren woman,

you who never bore a child;

burst into song, shout for joy,

you who were never in labor;

because more are the children of the desolate woman

than of her who has a husband," says the LORD.

2 "Enlarge the place of your tent,

stretch your tent curtains wide,

do not hold back;

lengthen your cords,

strengthen your stakes.

3 For you will spread out to the right and to the left;

your descendants will dispossess nations

and settle in their desolate cities.

4 "Do not be afraid; you will not suffer shame.

Do not fear disgrace; you will not be humiliated.

You will forget the shame of your youth

and remember no more the reproach of your widowhood.

5 For your Maker is your husband—

the LORD Almighty is his name—

the Holy One of Israel is your Redeemer;

he is called the God of all the earth.

6 The LORD will call you back

as if you were a wife deserted and distressed in spirit—

a wife who married young,

only to be rejected," says your God.

7 "For a brief moment I abandoned you,

but with deep compassion I will bring you back.

8 In a surge of anger

I hid my face from you for a moment,

but with everlasting kindness

I will have compassion on you,"

says the LORD your Redeemer.

9 "To me this is like the days of Noah,

when I swore that the waters of Noah would never again cover the earth.

So now I have sworn not to be angry with you,

never to rebuke you again.

10 Though the mountains be shaken

and the hills be removed,

yet my unfailing love for you will not be shaken

nor my covenant of peace be removed,"

says the LORD, who has compassion on you.

11 "O afflicted city, lashed by storms and not comforted,

I will build you with stones of turquoise,

your foundations with sapphires.

12 I will make your battlements of rubies,

your gates of sparkling jewels,

and all your walls of precious stones.

13 All your sons will be taught by the LORD,

and great will be your children's peace.

14 In righteousness you will be established:

Tyranny will be far from you;

you will have nothing to fear.

Terror will be far removed;

it will not come near you.

15 If anyone does attack you, it will not be my doing;

whoever attacks you will surrender to you.

16 "See, it is I who created the blacksmith

who fans the coals into flame

and forges a weapon fit for its work.

And it is I who have created the destroyer to work havoc;

17 no weapon forged against you will prevail,

and you will refute every tongue that accuses you.

This is the heritage of the servants of the LORD,

and this is their vindication from me,"

declares the LORD.

The Swan (blessing continued)

Christiane, a French woman who was at our retreat, introduced to us the second poem posted below because it seemed to embody the idea of blessing--and all the overtones involved in being open to receiving it when it finally does come. So I came home and when I was looking for it stumbled upon another poem by Mary Oliver also by the same title. (She is quickly becoming a favorite of mine. I'm hoping my husband will get me her book "Winter Hours" for Christmas. Suttle, heh?) The two together seem to say so much about what God is teaching me. And SO beautifully at that. Then, I thought I remembered Rodger having taken some pictures of swans that were extraordinary. So I asked if I could borrow them. I must say I'm quite pleased with the combination, and I hope you are truly blessed by it.

The Swan

by Mary Oliver

Did you too see it, drifting, all night, on the black river?

Did you see it in the morning, rising into the silvery air -

An armful of white blossoms,

A perfect commotion of silk and linen as it leaned

into the bondage of its wings; a snowbank, a bank of lilies,

Biting the air with its black beak?

Did you hear it, fluting and whistling

A shrill dark music - like the rain pelting the trees - like a waterfall

Knifing down the black ledges?

And did you see it, finally, just under the clouds -

A white cross Streaming across the sky, its feet

Like black leaves, its wings Like the stretching light of the river?

And did you feel it, in your heart, how it pertained to everything?

And have you too finally figured out what beauty is for?

And have you changed your life?

The Swan

also by Mary Oliver

Across the wide waters

Something comes floating-a slim

and delicate ship filled with white flowers and it moves

on its miraculous muscles as though time didn’t exist

as though bringing such gifts to the dry shore was a happiness

almost beyond bearing.

And now it turns its dark eyes, it rearranges the clouds of its wings,

it trails an elaborate webbed foot, the color of charcoal.

Soon it will be here.

Oh what shall I do when the poppy-colored beak rests in my hand?

Said Ms. Blake of the Poet:

I miss my husband’s company—he is so often in paradise.

Of course! The path to heaven doesn’t lie down in flat miles.

Its in the imagination with which you perceive this world,

and the gestures with which you honor it.

Oh what will I do, what will I say, when those white wings touch the shore?

Photos by Rodger Pickett

Advent--Expanded Post

Do not be afraid.

Behold I bring you good news of great joy

that will be for all the people.

Luke 2:10

A season of new beginnings.

A season of expectancy.

A season of blessing.

What does it mean to be blessed?

I have been going over my notes from the retreat. I've been wanting to pull my thoughts into a writing of some sort. And I will do that. As I went through some of the group's insight I thought that I would share some of the raw data with you all so that you could kind of go through the process with me. Ken and Katherine were our retreat leaders. Just being under their leadership was in itself an amazing learning experience. They truly represented a beautiful model of spiritual reciprocity. Listening to God together, to each other in the Spirit, and leading the group together in that process. Strength and humilty. Confidence and deference. It was absolutely beautiful to witness. I wish you could have seen Ken's hand dance of reciprocity. Remind me to show you sometime. Anyways, I'm on a rabbit trail again.

Ken and Katherine began by asking the group (which was a fairly well-read group by the way) what they understood as the meaning of the word blessed. And I took notes. Here are my notes as I wrote my understanding and interpretations based on what the group had to offer.

Please feel free to add a comment that might be helpful to me as I write, or you can send me an e-mail. There just seems to be something really special in all of this I want to pull together. Now, if you want to read this in the spirit of the Quakers, after each response, take time to pause, let it sink in, and meditate with the Spirit on what it might mean and what God might be saying to you about it.

B

Blessed—what is the meaning of blessing?
(responses from group)

Not a gift that something has been added. But where something has been taken away, an impediment removed.

When you arrive at a point where something about you has been recognized. A change has taken place, a difference, so what you weren’t before you are now and you are therefore blessed.

A feeling of completeness, wholeness.

Totally open to receiving. Like a sun shining with a cloud in front of it, when the cloud moves we can receive the full blessing.

A gift from God. A deep KNOWING that is available to us.

New wineskin, which is a greater blessing than even the new wine. Or perhaps that the new wineskin which can hold many new blessings IS the greater blessing.

Blesse in French means wounded. Blessing has something to do with our woundedness, and the beauty of our healing in the reality of our woundedness. (I wonder does our ability to receive blessing become greater in our woundedness?)

Grace, healing, and gratefulness blended together.

Being anointed and declared good. That is the gift of grace. We can give and receive that grace as vessels of God’s love in the world.

When God imparts into my soul a deep peace, a great joy that transcends everything else.

A sense of being cherished and known and cherishing and knowing in response.

Emptied. Able to receive. Able to contain. Able to be filled.