Spirit Blow Through Me

Spirit blow through me
blow away stagnant staleness
blow away road worn weariness
blow away faithless fear

Grace wash over me
Soften the hard edges
refresh the parched places
shine the dulled luster

Spirit blow through me
blow in fresh starts
blow in new energy
blow in perfect peace

Suffering Silences

"Likewise the Spirit helps us in our weakness, for we do not know how to pray as we ought, but the Spirit intercedes for us with sighs too deep for words." Romans 8:26

Suffering silences,
feelings choke words.
Only sighs speak.
Sighs,
welling up from soul's darkness
Speak,
spirit to spirit
without words, nor voice.
Suffering steals words
Sighs confessing helplessness
Sighs expressing connectedness
Spirit speak
with my sighs,speak.
Say something...
of comfort,
for healing,
about peace,
for I have no words...
only sighs
Suffering silences, sighs speak

Recipe for a Life Well Lived

What is the recipe for a life well lived? I found it in a woman who died at the age of 88. Her recipe was an overflowing cup of family, a full measure of friends and a bountiful cup of faith mixed together with love, joy, peace, patience, kindness, goodness, faithfulness, gentleness and self control.
The recipe resulted in a family who loved her, friends who surrounded her and a faith that sustained her. She treasured wonderful memories, lived with great satisfaction and had no regrets.
What is your recipe for a life well lived?

Enfolded in God's Embrace

Today, as I rejoiced in the lessons that I was taught by a dying woman over the past several weeks, my teacher was enfolded in God's eternal embrace. She is at peace in God's love.

Dying is Like Giving Birth

Dying is like giving birth. One does not know exactly when it will come or what one will have to go through to reach the end result. A person can experience pain and suffering in the dying process just like a woman who is giving birth. Once a baby is placed in the mother's arms the pain and suffering become a distant memory. I think that is how it must be when the dying are placed in the mothering arms of God, the process of getting there is quickly forgotten.
Heaven is God rejoicing at the child enfolded in God's eternal embrace and the child is at peace in God's love.

Cocoon to Butterfly

My first grade teacher has spun a cocoon around herself; a deep coma, a place of peaceful rest. She waits like a butterfly bursting out of the cocoon. We wait with her watching for the newness of life to burst forth. The dying body cocooned will become the butterfly of new life as it flys to eternity.

See Spot. See Spot run.

I visited my first grade teacher today. She is dying.
I was filled with warmth as I remembered her tender kindness and gentle patience as a teacher of energetic 6 and 7 year olds. Affirmations abounded for each child in her class.
Gratitude washed over me as I held the hand of the woman who taught me to read. Irony overwhelmed me as I wondered how I was called to care for this wonderful woman who had cared for me 44 years ago. The shoe was now on the other foot and it felt uncomfortable.
Once again, in her dying, she has become my teacher. I sit at her bedside and learn lessons of gracious gratitude. She lives out her gratefulness with polite please and thank yous said with a gentle smile and soft eyes. In her dying she teaches me about living with dignity, integrity and quiet courage as she does not complain while her positive and hopeful spirit continue to shine.
Today she taught me that the vale between this life and the next is mysteriously thin as she spoke these words with the same kind of deliberate communication style that I remembered as a child: "Pastor, I want to speak to you about my death," which was followed by a long moment filled with intentional and yet comfortable silence. She continued, "It will be Sunday." I wondered what she saw and heard that I did not as I waited for Sunday to come.