The live music ceased.
The hugs disappeared. The worship paused. The businesses wavered. Give Thanks Anyway. The table is empty. The shoulders are tight. The friend is struggling. The account is dwindling. Give Thanks Anyway. The mask helps. The Zoom introduces. The commute is less. The family is present. Give Thanks Anyway. The quarantine teaches. The neighbor offers. The alone time is reflective. The pause is not so bad. Give Thanks Anyway. The divide is real, not imagined. The conflict continues within. The work God is doing is evident. The choice to embrace it is mine. Give Thanks Anyway. glimpses of his face
upon leaving the parade wisps of confetti and hurrahs floating in our brains palm branches remain scattered in our minds and one on a donkey passes by, looking, intently – as if into our very souls seven days our watching, from afar or close by perfume scents the air before a feast of delicacies spread she has broken open her heart and the vial of treasure for sharing silent tearful words of holy drops, his feet touched tainted tables in the Temple crash to the floor his voice echoing off the marble walls in defiance of mistreatment upon those come to worship, who is there in this company, over-priced dove in hand? friend/companion arranges the ill-fated movement of betrayal we ponder motive - angst, skepticism … despair or truth loft dinner for a chosen few; ‘tis good to be included what will he have new – in song or word – for us this night? night that never ended and never will garden dew, strangers’ grip, off and away we watch him disappear into the courts early morning and far too many people in the streets choices offered between the two who? who? but we have no part do we, as he appears tattered and torn, enduring, suffering interrogation and courage only the weight of that devilish cross spans our perception of the moment, his breath in our face his eyes once again in our gaze seven days to the deafening silence of death a holy week. by Rev. Mary Anne Akin, April 2020  At the conclusion of our group spiritual direction session today, I shared a song by Gungor. It's one of my favorites to ponder, pray, and move with on my yoga mat. "Late Have I Loved You" was released in February of 2010 so it has been around for a bit (although not nearly as long as the original). It's a beautiful interpretation of St. Augustine of Hippo's ancient poem/prayer that speaks of his religious conversion.
Interestingly enough, I discovered this poem the month before the song was released. I remember this only because I posted about it on my blog over 7 years ago. You can read Gungor's interpretation of Augustine's prayer below. How does this poem/prayer/song speak to you on your spiritual journey? "Late Have I Loved You" Late have I loved you, O Beauty so ancient, so new Late have I loved you you were within me, but I was outside you it was there that I searched for you it was there that I searched for you Late have I loved you, O Beauty so ancient, so new. you were here with me but I was not with You it was there that you found me it was there that you found me You called and you shouted, you broke through my deafness. You flashed and you shone, dispelled my blindness. You breathed your fragrance on me You breathed your fragrance on me Late have I loved you I drew in your breath I keep on breathing I've tasted I’ve seen And now I want more You breathed your fragrance on me You breathed your fragrance on me Late have I loved you  Write A Poem
by Whitney R. Simpson Write a poem most everyday to free your spirit and not be led astray Listening from within is the only way to discover the wisdom of God today It isn't found in scrolling or opinion or polls God whispers through creation into your soul What do you see, hear, feel, notice around you today? Let go of the external stimulation drawing you away Lean in and listen only God makes you whole What's that whisper deep inside inviting you to stay? Write a poem most everyday to free your spirit and not be led astray  The Lenten season is here! This year for Lent, I’m welcoming more silence (and giving up chocolate almonds - yes, that’s a sacrifice). I recently wrote this poem about silence and offer it to you as encouragement for why we sometimes avoid the quiet in and around our lives. How do you meet silence? Silence: A Poem
by Whitney R. Simpson She is my companion yet I avoid her gaze She is my teacher yet I push back at her instruction She is my guide yet I veer from her course She is my friend yet I wonder why she comes near She is my gift and I long to savor her more fully She is inviting me to a oneness with God, listen...do you hear her? Why not? I avoid her gaze because at first she looks lonely I push back at her instruction because of my own agenda I veer from her course because I am easily distracted I wonder why she comes near because there is always another choice Yet I long to savor her like never before And once I say yes to her I receive an awareness I never knew she could introduce to me She is my companion, my teacher, my guide, my friend She is God's gift Silence What works for your life? I have a long list of things I prefer to spend my time doing both alone and with my family. Things like my morning quiet time, yoga, writing, reading, knitting, biking, kayaking, photography, thrifting, etc. Things that too often slip to the bottom of my list. This morning I awoke with my "to do" list racing through my head and yet the longing to not simply cram my day with the many tasks from my list. I woke up knowing the list must be accomplished. I also awoke knowing that I longed to make time for at least one of those preferred activities that fills me up and connects me with God. I have learned. These things keep me going. And yet I let them slip away. So I sat for a moment in the quiet, fighting the distractions of the "list" for the day. And then I settled in to the stillness and I read this poem. Stuck with another day, God speaks. I just have to slow down and listen.
For me, preference it is today - to the things that worked before. The "to do" list already seems easier to tackle. Thirst
Another morning and I wake with thirst for the goodness I do not have. I walk out to the pond and all the way God has given us such beautiful lessons. Oh Lord, I was never a quick scholar but sulked and hunched over my books past the hour and the bell; grant me, in your mercy, a little more time. Love for the earth and love for you are having such a long conversation in my heart. Who knows what will finally happen or where I will be sent, yet already I have given a great many things away, expecting to be told to pack nothing, except the prayers which, with this thirst, I am slowly learning. — Mary Oliver, Thirst Beacon Press, Boston, 2006, pp. 1, 52, 69 A friend shared this with me and it has resonated with me all week. This is a modern interpretation of the original quote:
I came to know You late, O Beauty so ancient and new. I came to love You late. You were within me and I was outside where I rushed about wildly searching for You like some monster loose in Your beautiful world. You were with me but I was not with You. You called me, You shouted to me, You wrapped me in Your Splendor, You broke past my deafness, You bathed me in Your Light, You sent my blindness reeling. You gave out such a delightful fragrance and I drew it in and came breathing hard after You. I tasted, and it made me hunger and thirst; You touched me, and I burned to know Your Peace. -St. Augustine of Hippo |
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