Burning Bush

This painting was inspired by an especially beautiful autumn day as I was walking to theology class. I noticed the sky, the colorful leaves, and the deep red burning bushes. And it occurred to me that this is holy ground just as Moses experienced, that God is here too -- among the fall colors and feelings, students and homeless persons.

Journey together

I started another Month of Guided Prayer retreat in everyday life this week.  What a gift!  What a privilege to companion others. 

This is my 36^th retreat serving as coordinator of this ministry, and I have come to know that each retreat is different, and each is good.  As I anticipated starting this one, it felt like going on a pilgrimage – a deep desire to encounter the holy, expecting and welcoming the surprises that God may offer. 

And so here I am, not in some far away place that is holy, but instead it is with these people near my home many of whom I have never met, and we journey together for awhile on holy ground.

This is a poem that came to me while on the last retreat I led, which started the first week of Advent.

 

Advent

Hosanna angels have arrived for another visit.

We sit in the holy of holies.

Spirits surround with comforting presence,

loving, being,

goodness permeates all.

Doesn’t matter that they are invisible

or that you may not feel them.

They are here.

They are healing our wounds,

anointing and praying,

and healing our wounds,

with God,

in God,

from God,

to God.

And the Hosanna songs that began

two thousand years ago continue.

Sing along if you like.

Rejoice.

Even in the cold, poverty and isolation,

rejoice,

for God is with us.

Sun, surf, and a good book

This beautiful photo was taken by my daughter on  a recent trip I took to Punta Cana, Dominican Republic with my family.  I enjoyed sitting on the beach in 80 degree weather under a thatched roof being with the sights and sounds of the ocean … and reading.  I highly recommend three books from that trip - "Tattoos on the Heart" by Gregory Boyle, "Half the Sky" by Nicholas Kristof and Sheryl WuDunn, and "Acts of Faith" by Eboo Patel.  

Reading the following words of Rumi in Patel’s book brought tears to my eyes.

I am not from the east or west

not up from the ground

or out of the ocean

my place is placeless

a trace of the traceless

I belong to the beloved

Austin

My great nephew was recently baptized and many family members participated in a beautifully created ceremony.  I was invited to write a poem as my contribution to the ritual and so I wish to share it with you. 

Welcome, child, welcome,
to the fullness of life,
to goodness,
to love, from love,
to the surprises of God.

Challenge us, child, challenge us,
to be authentic and honest,
to love you when it is difficult,
to set you free when we would rather cling,
to encourage you to take risk when we
      would rather keep you safe,
to be patient and kind always.

Bless us, child, bless us,
with your laughter and smile,
with your needs and wants,
with your struggle for independence and self-discovery,
with your successes and failures,
with growing into the fullness of yourself.

Delight us, child, delight us,
with your questions,
your friendships,
your love affairs,
your kindness and generosity,
and with your passions.

Celebrate, child, celebrate,
with us,
for today we honor that you have already
      changed the world for the better,
and we are grateful.

How the title came to be

As part of the process of navigating toward publishing my book, a collaborator on this project (thank you, Pat) encouraged me to create an intention board in the form of a collage, and I did. As with painting, I approached this as a form of prayer, and I was very pleased with the result. It was full of joy, abundance, and freedom, and the strongest theme to emerge was connecting.

One part of it says “It’s your gift: connecting new.” And I believe this is true. I have a passion for helping others “connect new”: to bring awareness to what they already understand deep down but have lost or forgotten, and use this awareness to reconnect with each other, with God, and with their authentic selves.

I lead retreats in Guided Prayer and my work in that forum does much the same thing.  Writing, painting, facilitating retreats -- all are an extension of my living in consonance with my purpose in life.  And for that I am grateful.

Night Songs

Some birds sing at night
intermittent choruses of
invitation and yearning
filled with hope
that a lover can find
her way through the darkness
gentle alluring
both persistent and patient
waiting for a response
knowing it will come
some special night

And then there was color

My spiritual director encouraged me to paint as another expression of my connection to God.  It took quite a while before I could get comfortable with this process, but now I find the work to be very joyful.

Before beginning each painting I surrender all of myself to God (body, mind, spirit, emotions, will, intellect, imagination, subconscious, and whatever else of me there is) and ask God to say to me whatever God wishes through the painting.

I ask to be able to tell God what is deep inside myself through the painting. I use my non-dominant hand to finger paint, with the hope of letting go even further any perceived control I may have. And I lose myself.  It is a process of non-thinking, non-verbal, emotional, authentic expression in which the colors choose themselves.

I am often surprised at what appears on the paper.  It is being and doing with God.

Flowers of God’s love

I like to say that people are flowers of God’s love. Like every flower, each person is unique and beautiful. Each is a physical revelation of God, the source of all goodness and life. In this painting, the marks flying around represent that our goodness touches the lives of many other people, in ways we recognize and in ways we do not.

In the beginning

Like many, I experienced an adolescence of insecurity with feelings of inadequacy. As I entered adulthood, I compensated for these feelings by throwing myself into work. Relentlessly trying to prove to others (and to myself) that I was good enough, my competitiveness and ambition brought me success in careers in engineering, and later business.

At the age of forty-five, I wanted to change my life and I decided to retire and study theology. I was raised Roman Catholic, but my spiritual life was shallow. During my first year of studies at the Aquinas Institute of Theology, I began receiving the counsel of a spiritual director and participated in The Spiritual Exercises of Ignatius Loyola. It was then that my life and my relationship with God changed profoundly.

I first started writing poems when I was courting my wife, but this expression of my creativity soon became dormant. During a prayer session in 2003 (two years after retirement), my urge to write poetry returned. Since then, more than three hundred poems, prayers, and reflections have come to me.

I am not so much an author or artist as I am a pray-er. The process of writing occurs in the context of prayer, most often during a block of time I have intentionally set aside to pray. When I am moved to write, it always starts with a word or two that opens the door to a sacred space, and then I pick up my pen and write in my notebook. It is an interactive process. It is an act of welcoming and surrendering, giving and receiving.