Seeing God's Face

The God that dreamed us up makes no mistakes. I see God in the face of the ill at the hospitals I frequent, the poor and oppressed, the severely learning disabled and the one who opens the door for the young single mother toting a baby on her hip. Though today, my mind has traveled back in time to my teaching years. They were good years, working as a speech and language specialist. Some were in programs for the poor and disadvantaged and other assignments were amongst the very private, elite elementary and high schools in my region. I enjoyed them all, but as we added more children to our own family, I considered myself fortunate to come home to tend to my own full-time. There was a gap in time, prior to doing so in which I still needed some additional income. So, I picked up a few tutoring jobs with students within their own home settings. It was just a temporary couple of assignments, but one student in particular that helped fill in that gap, gave me a gift.

That would be Ephraim. (I changed his name for privacy sake, and what fun that was to pick out a child’s name again just then!) Only Ephraim was not so much a child in chronological years, as he was in intellectual years. He was nearing his eighteenth birthday and we were pushing the system to continue to provide for his needs, as he was autistic and deserving of continued care.

I did not have much experience with the autistic as a therapist, as I mostly worked with children with language and articulation problems, but I always loved a good challenge. I prepared heavily for meeting Ephraim by reading his files, test results and researching communication options. I was determined to provide at least a basic daily language skills communication board or system of some kind for him and his family. As it turns out, what little I was given to work with, I would be devising this method and any materials required myself. I soon learned that God sent Ephraim to teach me, rather than me to teach him. Some times the Maker is surprisingly creative like that.

One glance from the front door to my student at the dining room table revealed a handsome and promising young man. I was greeted by the kindest and most relieved looking set of older parents, who quickly took the opportunity to welcome me into their home with warmest of greetings. They did seize the opportunity to take a break and step out into the lingering autumn air with me there. I placed my briefcase down and slowly made my way to try to get near as possible to Ephraim. He allowed that, from the first day, yet never looked at me for weeks to come. He was full care, needing to be fed, clothed and aided in moving about. He also needed to be changed as he was yet still in diapers. Some days were better than others, and I soon learned to start with the basics and we were associating objects and words on the level of a very young child. I was striving my best, not wanting to let this young man or his family down.

The family owned a great mobile vacation home. I soon learned that this was a hide away of sorts in their own yard, for family members to take a well-deserved break from the constant, exhausting care of Ephraim. It was also one of Ephraim’s favorite places to be however! One day, his Dad greeted me at the door and told me to leave my brief case in my car. We linked arms with Ephraim and took him to the trailer to let him sit in the driver’s seat. That was the first time I heard him laugh and laugh he did, as what appeared to be a cup of saliva flowed out of his mouth. He simply loved sitting behind that wheel! His Dad explained to me, that despite the professional Child Study Team services and this young man’s Individual Education Plan, he simply wanted his son happy. That was above all goals for his son. This father made it crystal clear that I was to focus on being with Ephraim, rather than all the doing that we had planned and wanted to know if I could understand that?

I glanced at Ephraim and I glanced over at his father and I thought of our Father in each one of us that day.

I soon began to see God in the face of Ephraim. We often played simple games in that trailer, we did puzzles together, and we blew thru straws, and traded small toys back and forth. Some times, I was lucky enough to have a helper and to take Ephraim on a short drive around his neighborhood in my car. The motion was of course stimulating and entertaining for him as he glanced out the window and he often would just laugh the entire time on a good day. There were many bad days too. But how beautiful a moment in time was, like heaven on earth when Ephraim would finally look ever so briefly into my eyes, linger a few seconds and smile broadly, all the while dumping saliva and me cleaning it up as fast as I could. I can’t quite describe the feeling of joy, love and peace that would be contained in those very few moments of connection. They would give me a smile that would light up my heart for days and his parent’s hearts as well, when they would take notice. The first session that happened, his Dad hugged me and said, “Today-that- was-it , that is all we want, not academic achievement, not promises, not tests and more evaluations, but love and happiness.”

I was used to demands-very big demands while participating in Child Study Teams. This was all new to me, and while we had those formal sessions that were periodically required of us all, Ephraim would sit in the next room in his wheelchair and his Dad would give me a wink as all the professionals would use their big jargon. We all had to take our prospective places in our occupations, but I think his Dad was everything good and right. He had made certain that Ephraim was as functional as possible and went as far as he could go in every area of development, and surrendered the rest. I also found he did his surrendering to God. We got along even better from that time on. What was a temporary job, simply stuck in between the corners of my life, and taught me much.

God has a special place in his heart for the people this world does not. It’s vital that we do our best and put our faith into action, but God was teaching me a different lesson this time about simply ‘being’. He wanted me to learn that some times that is enough and that his children are enough, and unique and loved so dearly by him. He taught me that the heart is more important than the mind and to speak plainer and that there is much time to keep big words out of my mouth in this life. This young fellow gave me no arguments, no intellectual debates. He didn’t have a lot of words, but had the miraculous capacity to suddenly connect at times. Those moments of love and sharing of raw emotion and the little affection I was able to break through to share with him meant so much. I know those moments originated in God, the Source from the very beginning. I know that Ephraim was fully human and fully part of God’s kingdom. As I left that assignment and made my way home, I took the lesson with me that it is also at times easier for the most simplistic of minds to speak and believe in the Living God, than the lofty and gifted. Some days, I still pull of my memories of Ephraim and his family out when I need to remember what matters most.

Making Time for Reflection

I pull back my morning curtain and smile inside, wondering if it is ever possible to fully comprehend the depths of how much God loves us. Glancing at the sunrise, seeing the snow laden pine branches hang low and the cardinals red streak across the pristine white new layer and the black capped chickadees flitting about so playfully, I fill with awe, with joy and peace beholding creation’s new chapter of a day to live. I take a deep breath in Him and whisper a prayer to start my morning. I dress and make my way out to the kitchen and see the delicate faces of miniature daffodils in the very dead of the winter, warmed from the memory of my mother’s visit the day before and their faces pull me toward them and seem to nod in agreement with the happiness of all the goodness that I am aware has grown through the years. All this, and the day has just awaken and I know that I must seek to live the experience of life, and wake up the senses to receive the here and now.

The girl’s laughter floods the room like sunshine, and they are chewing over breakfast and the idea of skipping lessons today and heading straight for the hills with their sleds. I spin with the thought of all that truly needs to be accomplished, yet in their eager faces I am once again reminded that we can do this, we can slow in all this busyness and hold onto a contemplative way, into the presence of God and live our lives like a prayer. We pile onto the school room couch warmed under the thick quilt together as we review our assignments for the day and Little One reminds me that it is day twelve on our ‘100 Day Calendar for Joy Habit’s by blurting out her memorized quote of the day from Helen Keller, “You will find joy in overcoming obstacles,” she tells me, face peering up like a shining new penny. She’s chosen a good one I chuckle to myself inside.

“Yes,” I answer, “ and we can count the joy until it becomes a habit and we can celebrate each new day.” Daughter Two adds her poem she wrote from her blog last week. We slow and linger under the quilt in the schoolroom while we move through the sharing of the new poem and literature of the week, plan for a history project together and math. Calmed and contented we move through our morning routine and I reach back in time and am suddenly become that excited and happy child in my mind and announce that school is out early and they scramble for the hills.

I sink into my chair by the window and know this was an exceptionally good morning, and I am relieved to have an unexpected break in my schedule. Even though I’ve got a truckload of more stressful work awaiting me, I grab the time to pray for more grace and reflect on what moment I was most grateful for in the past twenty-four hours and what moment I was least grateful. As I do so, I am reminded that Jesus was so very busy while on earth, yet he was known to slip away for solitude. So, I take the moments to think on these many consolations from my morning that left me feeling peaceful, happy and connected to God and while uncomfortable as it is at times, I let my mind seek out the moments of desolation. These are moments where I commonly feel a lack of peace- perhaps a bit rushed, stressed, or a bit nervous and I know in time that I can come to use these patterns for deepening inner growth. This involves a practice of trust, this continuously listening for God, yet it draws me in to feeling safe, because listening and following God is following the voice of love.

I’m quietly adding this habit of examen to my own ‘100 Days of Joy Habits’. For some time now, I’ve done a daily review of sorts at the end of my day by reading through ‘The Serenity Prayer’ and contemplating the day. I’m now eager to go a bit deeper in awareness, knowing God always speaks and wishes us to balance our deepest desires together in union and I’ve just got to keep remembering to fully show up for life. This God always longs for us to have freedom, and is drawing us to himself, The Light, and I know that I will never be done with this process of continual discernment in life.

In fact, it is the very time that I think I know the will and way of God in my life, that He moves in an unexpected way and reminds me to live with my hands and heart a bit wider open to listen to him, to make more time for him and to allow his transformation to take place and grow. In learning to evolve from this daily life review to experiment with more of an Ignatian examen, I am reminded how critical it is to not to journey in this life alone. It helps to have others to hold out a mirror in which I can see my own reflection, perhaps in many different ways that I’d not normally come to realize by myself. Also, I’m finding lately that being more transparent isn’t always comfortable, but laying one’s self bare tends to yield the most fruit. I’m eager to grow this habit over time to note the repetitive patterns in life that resurface and need my attention and obedience. It is a one-piece life of communion through the day and God speaking in the many moments that keeps me coming back to invite God into all of my moments. Life at times is full of ambiguity, but it is also true God is moving around us and in each of us and we are never done with this living communion and discerning life circumstance until we take our last breath. We are made to commune and to be faithful to follow his voice.

The silence is broken by the sound of footsteps and boots being flung across the entryway. Rosy cheeks enter, chilled but thrilled with the break in our routine and while the snow gets tracked into the house, wet cloths are scattered about and the list of chores must be attended to, joy is there. I count it and I hear the laughter and life that fills this house that reminds me to take a deep breath, to capture the fleeting moments, to pray and that there is no separation within all these moments as I try to place the whole of my life in balance under the leadings of Christ. And God is there in the faces satisfied with the hot cocoa and the mess and the whirl of the rest of the day on the way and warms our hearts with his freedom, love and grace for gifting us our heart’s desires among our messes.

Honestly Now...

This space has become a bit intimidating in the New Year. It seems everywhere I turn, there are people making admirable New Year resolutions. I’ve caught myself trying to paste on an Academy Award Winning face, but the truth is I feel about as bare and empty as my hollowed out tree in my back yard in the dead of winter.

Just hanging up a new calendar this year was hard. It was a gift from my online friend that passed on this autumn. Don’t let anyone ever tell you that online friends aren’t ‘real’. I’m still a bit bent over from missing his (almost) daily e-mails and calls. The calendar is a precious present, but a bittersweet reminder that all the possibilities for chewing over our thoughts and words, laughing over editing mistakes and other impish times are gone and my heart aches to try to write in this place. While I do not grieve without hope, this has been a most difficult of doors to for me to close on a loved ones going out.

There are some seasons that are just naturally heavier with burdens than others and winter, while it is beautiful, seems to some times be one of them. I’ve just spent a month slowly initiating a drug not approved in the US for my motility disorder. I truly pinned my hope on this one. Over the course of a month, I have mustered up boldness enough and laughed here at my typical dumping out and meticulously dividing dosages that I increase in tiny increments. I look as if I got it straight off street and I’m quite certain it would have been much cheaper that way! It always takes courage to start, being allergic to most medications, so the bottom kind of dropped out hard when it failed, especially as I waited so long and when it happens to be the last option. In the midst of this and the holidays, my husband, who I could count the number of times he was ill in 25 years of marriage on one hand, slowly developed symptoms of a temporary autoimmune disease that normally hits young children under the age of five. I say temporary, but the approximate eight weeks for this ditty to burn itself out has seems to have come and gone. I am now watching him jog off to the lab and doctors like I frequent, which is very strange and a bit unsettling.

So, a bit of unexpected happenings seem to be following me like a shadow into the New Year and I wish to fill this space with bright and shining new stories and they are not flowing. I don’t share for sympathy, but for the importance of being an authentic believer. I am simply a messy child of God. I’ll tell you what is good, though. The emptiness is not completely barren, because I know that God’s promises are true. I am being ‘held’ and we all are. I now know not to live life by feelings, and that feelings change and there is hope for other unexpected good openings. I’m keenly aware of the simple and extravagant gifts God sends in the midst of what seems like dormant times: the never ending laughter inside my walls here from our children, their help in our home, and a chance to give back a miniscule amount of care and love that my husband has shown me over the past 5 years, as if that is even a bit possible!

There are grace filled moments every day and always someone to help encourage that has life harder than we do. I am ever more aware of the blessing of seeing God’s face in those that remain and journey alongside me. I’m even thrilled to make a new younger friend, whose smiling face is on this page and whether she knows it or not, is teaching me more about God these days than I am teaching her. Beyond that, she thinks I might be able to sew, and has me literally in stitches of laughter in the midst of my some times tears! I stink at sewing, but am willing to give it a go again once more.

I’ve also been reminded that we all must write love on our own arms each day in order to do so for others; to love our neighbors as ourselves we must truly love ourselves. Weekly I am told this and blessed by my Christian Spiritual Formation classes that have started up again this past week. It is hard to believe it is semester two already and it is by far the most healing thing I’ve done since my illnesses began, though it does limit my time online and especially in writing here. God has placed me with the kindest people though, who are full of wisdom and shine his Light. I’ve been assigned to a wonderful supervisor who knitted me a beautiful prayer scarf that arrived here by mail before the holiday. It has warmed my heart-the one I’ve had to reveal to her in truth the past four months along with my Spiritual Director who is such a good listener and challenges me in my own spiritual walk.

So there is much going on in a bare winter tree that looks hollow and dormant. I know there is Truth in my roots and they help me stand on the promise that God will see me through, as the Lord is the strength of my life. (Psalm 27:1) We can all trust and look forward to the future, knowing our heavy seasons will not last forever, especially when Christ is at the center ensuring we have a Living stronghold in this life. When we feel too weak to hang on, God never lets us go. There will be a time for nourishment and for springing up with new life and growth. Each new day is a gift in which there is another chance to set our mind on things above, things eternal. Christ asks us to leave things behind and to follow him and some times those are the hardest of things or people, but necessary in the journey.

May your footsteps be ‘held’ and gently guided, as we grow with the Christ child in the coming year. I hope for you to see beauty in new beginnings and know the reality of his Presence and I trust that peace and joy will tip toe quietly into all of our days and cause us to smile when we least expect it.

I Collect Love

My grandfather owned an antique shop next to his farmhouse and I lived next door when I was a young child. I’d leisurely walk around the shop and barns, spotting new additions: a clock here, a old table and chair set there. Occasionally, there would be a newer item. I had my eye on it- a wooden treasure box. I must have been all of ten at the time that I bought it and I’ve been filling it with love ever since.

I collect special cards from my parents, loved ones and those who have passed on before me. There is a tightly packaged set of letters from my then military boyfriend, now husband with postal marks from all over the world, special momentums, poems and memories of days gone by. I’ve tucked my tiny bible in, along with a small evergreen scented pillow, filled with pine needles from a camping trip long ago, when my family was how I first knew it. It’s amazing how sweet the fragrance and memory is still.

I had a love spill long ago. I had to reorganize and start placing items that would no longer fit, in my antique blanket chest, which used to sit at the foot of my grandparents canopy bed. To my amazement, I found a square white box, which my youngest and I opened with wonder. It was my ring of roses and babies breath that I wore upon my head that hot July day when I decided against a veil. As my own baby tried it on wide eyed, I recalled my own momma giving it to me, as she had dried it while I was on my honeymoon. She said I’d need to see it again some day, and she was right.

I always have loved old treasures and antiques, especially old hope chests, as I have great wonder of what was in them before I owned them and what stories they might tell if they could talk. Then there are dusty corners that contain a few detours in the road, only known to the owner. I think about that day when I’m long gone and what will become of them all. I suppose we all have some surprises that surface tucked in amongst handprints and proud preschool glued button framed photos and dark crayon drawn ‘I love you momma’ pictures with my face and hands drawn so big.

Yes, I collect love.

How God must yearn for that too. Perhaps when one gets right down to it, the only thing that counts is faith expressing itself in love; loving God in all people and extending it to all people is what really counts. (Galatians 5:6) What would it look like to love Him as my first love and to love him passionately for all of His people? To take all that I know as my truth and let it all plummet from my mind, deep within my heart.

G.K. Chesterton said, “Let your religion be less of a theory and more of a love affair.”

A love affair - a heart contemplation put into action.

The beauty of such may begin in the mind, but surely settles in the heart and is the holy business of God’s people. Some days I seek God’s way and pray fervently for an answer to an item of discernment when the answer has all ready been provided simply where I stand. “…. If we love one another, God dwelleth in us, and his love is perfected in us.” (1 John 4:12)

I’ve filled my box and trunk rather selectively through the years. Much to my sorrow when I announced my search and rescue mission to locate it after our last move, a few treasures I was positive I had saved were not there. My heart sank, as I do recall now the day that those went by the wayside, heart much afraid to hold them too tightly. Yes, I had discarded them. I let them slip through my fingers like sand. Some words can only be savored in the memory of the heart. These pieces deliberately tossed at the time and long forgotten give me cause to think why. Maybe it was more about whom I could not tolerate at the time or who could not tolerate them being a piece of me. Mean while it’s taken years, really decades later, to learn how to slide on over for one another with grace and make more room. God repeats some lessons until one has had enough practice.

I loved that old antique shop and this precious box and trunk, yet not the material items themselves, but the love they represent. I’m left with an image of God’s extravagant love overflowing without bounds that could not possibly be contained in these cherished chests. His love is huge. It never discards or fails; it is a patient love that tolerates and envelopes all, sealed with the offer of redemption. As I’ve made my finite attempts at loving, He’s been teaching me that bigger infinite Love- that baby in a manger every day offered Love. That Love at a distance is warm and comfortable, while Love close up is a transforming fire. That’s the kind of wild love freely offered inside all and not to be hidden away in an old chest of time.

“A new commandment I give unto you, that ye love one another; as I have loved you, that ye also love one another. By this shall all men know that ye are my disciples, if ye have love one to another.” ~John 13:34-35

Wednesday Photo and Quaker Quote

"God stirs up our comfortable nests, and pushes us over the edge of them, and we are forced to use our wings to save ourselves from falling. Read your trials in this light, and see if your wings are being developed."

~Hannah Whitall Smith

Though we are rapidly moving towards winter and the Christmas holidays, my mind is not quite there yet! It may appear, I am thinking spring with my nest here, but it is just my crazy love of collecting birds nests. Us girls have begun talk about keeping our decorating and holiday simple, and will place all our nests in our tree as it is a joyful custom we keep. It is great fun to make the relatives and visitors find them. We have not begun much shopping either, as that part of the holiday some times wearies me. We are all so rich in so many ways it has become difficult to think of what small, but meaningful gifts to give. Once again, the girls minds have turned toward the most fun idea of all to them: sending bibles, blankets and chicken to Asia. In our frenzy here, we have lost the catalogue in which they begin to circle what they would like to give. The reactions of those they donate to in their name have been priceless other years. Perhaps it is good enough to enter into Christmas gently and slowly-to first think on baby Jesus and realize that all will be well if we keep God with Us every day of the year.

~May your season be filled with the blessing of hope and peace.~

Quakers and Gratitude

Life is hard. Gratitude eases that burden. It knows no limits and broadens life from the inside out. Being grateful is an important spiritual practice for me, and one that seems to take Friends by surprise at times I notice. However, I’ve learned I need to see beyond myself through noticing life’s joys and blessings and even by seeing the beautiful in the ugly if need be. It is God in our midst.

A big part of being Quaker to me, is the freedom to express myself as led- what the Light in my heart is illuminating. I find cause to give thanks in that alone. At times, I feel Friends have good news and a great opportunity to speak it. I have been gifted so much, and chances are that you have too, if you are sitting at your computer reading this today. Even in the stillness and silence practice of Friends we are free to contemplate, seek guidance, give thanks, and yes, even praise! That is a treasure in our fast paced world of today.

So often I notice we as Friends focus on the entire ill in the world, and we should unite in the cause of overcoming much ill with good. But in wishing to remake the world, it seems we can get very serious and not lift our heads up from these injustices. I think experiencing that ‘inner nudge’ toward doing good in the world is one of the most important of the avenues of religious experience, keeping in mind that one does not dwell on good works for personal gain. However, I think daily gratitude is some thing that helps to see and recognize the God within and working in our daily lives. Expressing that, for me, lifts my soul and becomes contagious when I experience others who do the same. Perhaps it is a balance. It need not be all about feeling which is fluid, but a natural symptom of the devotion of the heart.

Obviously, we are not all the same. We ought to be part of the world and give back to God for it. We should strive for peace and betterment today. But somewhere in the mix of it all, it feeds me when the Light illuminates sparks of joy- surprises and the grace of God daily. This daily love affair with God, naturally then gives cause to see the sacred in each ordinary day. The truth is, I am looking quite earnestly amongst Quakers for gratitude and joy sparks. I think there is room to proclaim our thankfulness. Our roots are Christian and I am finding many stand firmly in those roots still, and their spirituality grows strong, but all of us are able to practice offering thanks. Every little glimmer of Light changes me and I believe for those around me. This daily giving thanks and expressing gratitude in meeting also seems logical and appropriate. Gratitude makes sense of our past and connects it to today. It brings more peace for today and creates more hope for tomorrow. To me, that sounds very Friendly. So, I continue my gratitude search and my own practice of journaling them, and on the darkest of days, God makes my heart glad.

George Fox quoted this verse in one of his journals: “Thou hast put gladness in my heart.” Psalm 4:7. He continued on to write: “Praise, honor, and glory be to the Lord of heaven and earth! Lord of peace, Lord of joy! Thy countenance maketh my heart glad. Lord of glory, Lord of mercy, Lord of strength, Lord of life, and of power over death, and Lord of lords, the King of kings!”

I think George had his head on straight when it came to praise, which is so often a lost art today. I want to diligently remember who to give it to. Every month of the year lends itself to continuing the count. So, I have scribbled in my journal and given thanks for so many things lately. Won’t you consider joining me? Here are a few from my page this past week...

Brilliant leaves
Two dogs in my window
Find my childhood bible again
My treasure box of love
Holding hands watching movies
Tired Husband reading scripture
Giddy girls anticipating possible new life here with their bunnies
A warm kitchen and help in it
Homegrown music on the harp and guitar
The stately pines out my bedroom window
My Grandmother who just turned 93
Old wooden benches and floorboards
The renewing gift of silence
Every new morning

Just from my Spiritual Journal....

As a dreamer, at my window

just in time to see

a gust of autumn

spray it's brilliance,

to reveal hidden corners

and brush off dusty dreams.

A singular leaf floats down.

That is when You breeze by

and I remember to choose joy-

to keep the door of my heart on a crack

and the key upon the shelf again.

I open the clouds like curtains,

as Your Love shines through.