Holy Spirit as I sit at this groaning table today, looking so much like a Rockwell painting, help me to remember those in this world who are grateful for a simple bowl of rice and a cup of water. I often forget how much I really have and fail to remember those who huddle beneath a simple roof and sleep on a dirt floor.
As I sit in the safety of my home help me to remember there are people who look upon the evening sun grateful just to have survived another day. Help me to be mindful of your great blessings and learn to give more than I receive, to not waste what has been give me, and to share with those who can not help themselves.
Oh Holy Spirit, We thank you, for the feast we spread before us
thank you for the ground it was cradled in,
thank you for the sun and rain that nurtured it
thank you for the farmers who carefully harvested it
thank you for the hands that lovingly prepared it.
May this food feed our bodies
as You feed our souls. Amen
3 A voice cries out:
‘In the wilderness prepare the way of the Lord,
make straight in the desert a highway for our God. Isaiah 40:3
The other Sunday I and a friend of mine were in charge of the coffee hour after worship. It was going to be a cold November day and I wanted to do something different and special for people I care about. Cherry and I talked it over and decided, since there was an Elders meeting after worship, a light meal of homemade soup, salad and bread would be a perfect offering. Cherry decided on making a chicken soup and bringing the rolls. I decided on a vegetarian split pea soup and also brought the salad.
I have read and heard the words of the prophet Isaiah all of my life and have loved many of the songs and chants written around this verse. But as I was preparing the soup for Sunday the words struck me a little deeper. The picture above is the ingredients for my soup. Simple wholesome ingredients; dried split peas, herbs, and garlic and onions, from my own garden, and fresh carrots and celery from the farmers market go into making this really simple soup. (Recipe Below) As I scrubbed the carrots and celery I thought about who would eat my soup and in the process of browning chopped onions and garlic in olive oil the act of making the soup became an act of prayer.
The people who would share in my offering were the people of my faith community and any visitors we might have. People I love and care about, but, more than that, it was an extended sharing from the communion table. The breaking of bread, the ladling of hot soup all became part of the feast Christ sets before us every Sunday.
As a member of the Christian Church (Disciples of Christ) we prepare and offer communion every Sunday. We carefully set out bread and cup and share it with each other and as I prepared this simple meal that would be served after worship we were continuing a 2000 year old tradition of breaking bread and pouring cup then going in to share a common meal. That is what the first followers of Jesus did. They shared more than just a piece of bread and thimble full of wine. They shared a whole meal together, rich or poor, aristocrat or tent maker, all ate from the same serving bowl.
I have helped prepare and serve hot meals for the homeless, and I routinely make up food bags to give to the homeless I see on the streets and while I may not sit down with each person I offer food too it is still communion. It is a sharing of food, and drink, and recognizing that what I give doesn’t come from me, but from God, Christ, and Holy Spirit. I am only the servant who is trying to fulfill Christ’s commandment; “for I was hungry and you gave me food, I was thirsty and you gave me something to drink, I was a stranger and you welcomed me. (Matthew 25:35)
In the process of preparing to serve others I am preparing to serve Jesus, to follow, as faithfully as possible, the path Jesus leads me on. I know I will stumble, but Jesus will be there to pick me up; I will wander off the path, but the Holy Spirit will be there to lead me back; and I will grow weary, but God will be there to cradle me in her arms until I am rested.
The spiritual practice I am inviting you to share in this Advent season is to find the sacred in all that you are preparing for your own celebrations. In what ways are you preparing for the Lord in your everyday life? With whom will you celebrate the feast of God? As you await the birth of the Christ child let your preparations become an act of prayer, for those you love and those you may not know.
May the peace of Christ be with you, always
Ruth’s Pea Soup about 8 servings
1 lb. dry green or yellow peas
3 quarts of cold water (or 1 qt vegetable stock and 2 quarts cold water)
1 large carrot, sliced in to small pieces
1 small celery stick chopped
1/8 cup olive oil
1 small onion or 4 large green onions
4 large cloves of garlic, pressed or chopped fine
¼ teaspoon turmeric
1 tablespoon fresh mint
1 tablespoon fresh herbs (I like fresh rosemary, summer savory, and thyme)
¼ teaspoon sea salt
Pepper to taste
In the bottom of a large pot sauté the onions and garlic in the olive oil until soft. Add the turmeric, stir then add the carrots and celery. Add the peas and cold water into a large saucepan; add the herbs and salt to the saucepan; add the pepper to taste. Cook over low to medium heat until the peas are very soft. Remove from the heat and run through a ricer or press through a colander to remove the hulls. Return the soup to the saucepan and heat to eating temperature. Serve with a dollop of sour cream or plain yogurt.
Notes: Use only 1 teaspoon of dried mint or herbs when substituting for fresh. I will use whatever fresh herbs I have on hand but I prefer 1 tablespoon each of fresh thyme and summer savory. If you want a more salty taste you can add a teaspoon of spike or one of the other herbal salt substitutes when cooking. I also like to sprinkle fresh chopped chives (either onion or garlic) over the sour cream or yogurt when serving.
Source: A Ruth Thompson original recipe that I first made sometime in early 1980’s.
I am one of many people who do not look forward to Thanksgiving or Christmas. To me this time of the year represents the loss of way to many people I have cared about. So I usually don’t do much celebration and what I do is forced and tiring. Instead of celebrating the way most people do I have always used this time of year for reflection and giving to those in need.
All year round I practice the Spiritual Practice of giving, donating to those who are in need, but at this time of the year it takes on new meaning and helps with the depression I get every year. I practice this in many different ways; collecting food for the Food Bank, going through my closet and donating clothes I haven’t worn all year to Goodwill or the Salvation army, volunteer at a shelter, gather up grocery bags of food that includes dog food, blankets, caps, gloves and socks and hand them out to the homeless I encounter on the street. All of my giving is anonymous with no concern for what the gift is used for or any expectation of being repaid. And, while I know my small efforts won’t change much doing something for someone else helps me remember how good my life is and that despite feeling depressed I actually have a life worth sharing.
This week’s Spiritual Practice is the Practice of Giving, of sharing from your abundance without strings attached, just giving out of the love you have of God, Christ, Holy Spirit, and all of humanity. I would also like to recommend that this Spiritual Practice of Giving extend through the New Year. Do something each week where you give to those who need it in some way; the food bank, shelters, or someone on the street. Even if all you give is a welcome and a smile that acknowledges the humanity of all people that is more than some people will get all year.
May you find new ways to share your compassion for those in need, giving out of your abundant life to ensure others will have life.
Today is Veterans Day and I would like us to practice Visio Divina using the above pictures by David Bowie of the United Kingdom of Soldiers in the mist that touched me deeply. Take a few moments to study the picture, breathing deeply and begin your Divine Reading. Think of Visio Divina like this–putting on God-glasses to see how an image illuminates Christ for you.
Study the picture slowly, taking a first glance noting the colors or lack of color, people, places and things. Remain with the image for one to two minutes. If you would like, jot down a few words about the image.
Take a second, deeper, look. Where is there movement? What relationships do you see? Engage your imagination. Where are you in the artwork? What do you see from that perspective? What deeper meaning emerges?
Respond to the image with prayer. Did the image remind you of an experience, person or issue for which you’d like to offer thanksgiving or intercession? Offer that prayer to God.
Find your quiet center. Breathe deeply. Relax your shoulders, arms and legs. Rest in this quiet. Let God pray in you. God prays beyond words.
I offer the poem below as a testament to what I “heard and saw” within the photo and my heart; and as an offering to all who have served, fought, and died in conflicts across time and the globe. Peace be unto all
a prayer
They walk
into the smoke
filled
mist
The wounded,
the dead,
the lost,
walking to their destiny
They fought
they gave their all
for love
of wife and child
of Parent and sibling
The mist is filled with voices
well done,
thank you,
I love you
I miss you
Each voice a prayer
to send them on their way
to let them know
they are not forgotten
they are loved
that all is OK
despite they suffering
despite their sacrifice
Poppy’s held
music plays
hearts send love
no you are not forgotten
you are always with us
in our hearts
in our souls
in the lives you died to protect
go to your rest
knowing we are
grateful for
the love you gave
the life you gave
We who remain
are blessed by
You who walk
yesterday, today and tomorrow
it is not good-by
it is only until we meet again
Holy Presence,
on a day of sharing,
a day of remembering,
a day of covenantal renewal
we ask your blessing on this feast we are to share.
A cup to drink, bread to eat,
the meal you have prepared.
We accept your invitation
to feast
to welcome
all who travel with us. . . .
Prayer of Thanksgiving
Gratitude for a meal shared
and consumed in love.
We leave your table full,
blessed,
ready to work in the field,
arms bared,
heart full,
outward we go.
No barns necessary
for the bounty we have collected,
all shared,
poor,
rich alike.
With thanks we go forth,
we are enough,
we have enough,
with prayers
we will work
until all have enough.
Do you ever wonder what happens to shadows? I do, sometimes. I mean where do they go when the sun goes away? I have lots of shadows that follow me. I know they are there even though it’s dark and I can’t see them. It’s like the monsters under the bed. I know they are there even if I shine a light, I know, you see they skitter into the dark corners where the light never goes.
All Hallows Eve is the beginning of the time of year I have the most difficulty with. These last two months of the year are thin times when memories and shadows come out of the woodwork of my mind. Yes I have shadows and whether good or bad they are there, a part of me, that follows me wherever I go, whatever I do. And I see more shadows every year and they make me sad for what is gone and what I will never see again.
Dad, 18 years old
There is the shadow that is my father, once tall and strong He carried my on his shoulders and let me snuggle with him in church, and showed me the beauty of the stars and the light show that is the Aurora Borealis. Dad was the one who said “Ruth, you can accomplish whatever you want all you have to do is dream and then go for it.” He encouraged me, me his scarred and damaged child, to ride horses, plow a field, drive a farm truck when I was twelve, and hold puppies and kittens in arms with all the love I could give. He taught me to count by having me feed weanling calves, and gave me a bull calf as pet. In his eyes I could do anything and I could. Even when Dad became ill, and weak, I could still see his strong shadow standing beside him. At his death his shadow faded into the wind and while wisps of him cling to my memory he has become a distant shadow.
Mom, 18 years old
Then there is the shadow of my mother. A lion hearted woman, who fought for me with ever fiber of her being. This was the woman who fearlessly took on the school board to make sure that I, her oldest daughter, would enter school at age 6. You see I had been badly injured the previous June and was still recovering and the school didn’t want to “deal” with a “disabled” child. But I started school on time, all because my Mom had the heart of a lioness and you didn’t mess with Mama Lion.
The shadows have followed me, are following me, wherever I go as I travel this path that leads to whatever life will give me. Some are old friends, some not so friendly, but they are mine just the same. Whenever I turn around I see them jump into those corners. I see just a hint of them, small smudges of dark, and gray. For many years I was afraid of the dark, the shadows that lurk there, but, not anymore. Today I look for them as reminders of days past, friends cherished and lost, puppy hugs and kitten kisses.
Mom and Pippin, 1988
Today I see them for what they are, memories, shadows that cannot hurt me unless I let them. I no longer let the shadows rule over me, rather I let them watch as I face the life I have chosen and do what I feel to be right. I am learning not to let them make me feel guilty for long ago actions that I cannot change and from which I learned much. I will let the Shadows stay in the dark and I will light a candle to chase them into the corners. Jesus said no one hides their light under a bushel and He’s right. To hide my light is to let the shadows rule and I’d rather I placed my light in the open to show me the way to go and to keep the dark, the shadows at bay.
16Rejoice always, 17pray without ceasing, 18give thanks in all circumstances; for this is the will of God in Christ Jesus for you. – 1 Thessalonians 5:16-18, (NRSV)
To pray always, without ceasing, seems like an impossible task. Seeing God in every thing, every action we do, every moment of our lives opens doors of our hearts, and the Spirit of God moves in. We don’t become Pollyanna’s seeing only the good in people. We see the suffering and trials of those around us and in seeing God in their faces we open our hearts and let God’s compassion move us to be the arms and legs, the body, of the Holy Spirit. We are motivated to give the solace, love, support to those who are in need just as Jesus did on the streets and fields of Judea.
The suffering of our communities, nation and world overwhelms, frightens us and as the troubles increase exponentially we ask does prayer really do any good. Offering a prayer for someone walking in the dark places of life, does let them know they aren’t alone, that someone, somewhere is keeping them in their hearts. But even more important is the prayer that motivates us to be the Christ on the street, to offer food, and help find shelter. To care for the sick and injured in even small ways that often are not seen in the mad rush to send massive aid. In fact many times it is the small things we do that mean the most to the recipients. Each act is an act of prayer, it is an offering, it is remembering to feed the hungry, care for the sick, visit the incarcerated, and give mercy to the stranger, which all God and Jesus asked us to do.
As you listen to song and watch the pictures pass before you. Let your hearts turn to prayer, where ever you are, you don’t even have stop what you are doing and offer a prayer for what lies closest in heart. Listen; listen carefully in a moment of silence, and throughout your day, for words of encouragement from God. Look into the faces of each person you meet and see the face of God. Each of you, all of you, no matter what you do, or have done, is beloved by God. Let your eyes be opened to love that shines in the eyes of each other, and ears be opened to the voice of God in the voice of the next person you meet.
May the peace of God be with you, now and forever more.
Freddie and SuzieGeorge and Cuddles (AKA Carlos the South American Terrorist)
Dear Holy Spirit, bless all creatures living and passed on that wing their ways across the sky, walk the good earth, and crawl along the path of life. Bless companion creatures that help, comfort and provide joy and company to those they live with. Bless those creatures that work alongside us in conflict and in peace, protect their brave souls and surround them with you love. Pray for those creatures that have been abused and neglected, help them to find loving forever homes, and bless those angelic souls that work tirelessly to help all creatures in need.
Oh, and Lord, as much as I am afraid of spiders I ask you to especially bless them, for they do the work you have set before them with great diligence. All I ask of you is to let those eight legged wonders know that if they stay hidden in my home, I will not harm them.
With gratitude for all your creation, this humblest of creatures thanks you for all of the dogs, cats, birds, cows, horses, chickens, turkeys, and duck that have blessed, and still bless my life. AMEN
Last night was the Autumnal Equinox. The Sun crossed that imaginary line in the sky called the celestial equator from north to south. Spring begins in the southern hemisphere and fall officially begins here in the north. I don’t know about you but I’ve been feeling ‘fall’ for some time now. The nights are cooler, the air has that dried leaf smell to it and the light, well, just looks different, fallish you might say. But with all things human we have to have a point in space and time that defines what we already know to be. We humans can be silly.
While summer is my favorite time I have to admit fall has its good points. There is nothing like taking a walk in the park, leaves crunching beneath my feet, red gold above my head and a blue sky the color of which you only see in fall. This is the time of year I make a pilgrimage into our neighborhood park, Yost Park, and find a quiet corner to sit and pray with nature. A thank you prayer for a lovely summer, a pray of gratitude that I am able to experience the joys, and beauty of all the seasons. I reflect on the past summer and all of the joy and sorrow it brought. As I gaze at the now flaming trees amongst the dark evergreens I allow memory’s to surface of past falls, and allow myself to sink into that deep connection to nature that comes only from giving me permission to feel the creative life of the surrounding world now slowing into slumber. I often remember past fall walks with my father. We used to walk through our fields that were once green and bursting with life but now covered in a sleepy haze the ground began to enter its winter sleep.
Fall is a good time for reflection, a time to take stock, a time to remember, and a time for rest. So for this week’s prayer practice I would like to offer you a Prayer of Examen with nature. Being outside and experiencing the smells and sights of the natural world often triggers memories of past walks by yourself or with others. It gives the experience of the Examen a very immediate and fresh sense, allowing the old memories to open a deeper connection to the creator in today’s moment.
Prayer of Examen with Nature:
Take 30 minutes, or more if you like, and go for a walk outside. Find a quiet place where you may sit without interruption. Note: leave your cell phone at home.
Let this time be just between you and God. In whatever way is most comfortable for you ask the Holy Spirit to guide your memories through your imagination.
As you sit allow a memory to surface of an experience from the past summer or from a previous year where you felt deeply connected with nature and creation.
In your imagination, visit your memory, recall details such as colors, smells, and sounds, even tasted. Take your time in remembering the details. If you have your journal with you may want to write them down.
Walk through your memory, turning it around and viewing it from different angles. Are you with someone, or alone? Where was it? Was it a joyful memory or one that tugs at the heart with sadness? Not all fall memories are happy ones and those that cause us grief can be just as meaningful as the joyful one. Linger with your memory; let it soak in.
When you feel you have spent sufficient time with your meditation notice how you feel at this moment and offer any gratitude that arises. Express thankfulness to God in the way that is most natural for you. You may want to express your gratitude for the part of nature you have spent this time, recognizing the part it played in your imagination.
You may wish to write your insights in your journal or just what you did or did not notice in your memory for later reflection.
May your time of reflection and rest in your quiet corner of creation help shape how you see and experience nature in the coming days and years. May all creation bless you with rest and healing.
The month of August is one of my favorite times of the year a time of reflection and gratitude. This has always been a slow time of year for me. A time to sit on the porch with a cold glass of iced tea and just sit, letting the warm air surround me, and the end of summer sounds lull me into a lazy half-sleep. There are fresh vegetables from the garden, or farmers market, that make even the simplest meals a feast. Ice cream tastes better with ripe fat blackberries, or sweet peaches on top. The trees are making a tired sound as the August breezes blow through leaves that are drying out and getting ready to turn into autumns crowning glory of red and gold.
In May there is excitement, joyousness and expectations in the air, but in August the air begins to get sleepy, tired and a little sad. In just a few short weeks our children will be back in school, the air will turn cold and instead of juicy watermelon on the back porch it will be hot chocolate with cookies at the kitchen table.
As you can see, for me, August is a time of reflection and remembrance but it is also a time to take stock and explore what I am grateful for. And, today gratitude fills my thoughts. I am grateful for the warm sun and gentle rains that have fed my vegetable garden this year. I have feasted on fresh lettuce, green beans, garlic, onions, tomatoes and cucumbers. I have been able to put some in our freezer to pull out and remember the warm summer sun in the darkness of winter. I am grateful for the time spent lying in the shade and letting our dogs use me as a chew toy. Together John and I have watched the sun set over the Olympic Mountains, turning the gold and purple and the waters of Puget Sound into silver. I am grateful for walks in Yost Park and along the Edmonds beach, watching children play in forest and sand. I am grateful for the feeling of life that thrums through me when I watch the sunrise over the trees of Yost Park, turning the sky from dark to bright and the Olympic Mountains pink with the first rays of light. I am grateful for the silence of the morning as I sit and meditate on our deck before sunrise. And, I am grateful for the opportunity to write in my blog, to have the time to read or simply sit and just be.
Gratitude is what warms my heart and gratitude is the spiritual practice I am asking you to join me in this week. You have read some of what I am grateful for now it is your turn. As this summer winds down what are you grateful for? Has something, no matter how small, given you pleasure or challenged you this summer? Have you done something that warms your heart and causes’ it to “swell with thanksgiving?” Did you travel, or read a book, or did you just stop and let the summer wash over you? All of these, and more, are reasons to be grateful.
May G-d bless these your last days of summer with juicy berries and sweet peaches, gentle breezes and warm sunshine. And, may you heart swell with gratitude for the gifts G-d graces you with.
A Quiet Walk 