Lenten Grace — Peace Among the Rocks

photo by Kathy Yates
photo by Kathy Yates

Teach us to care and not to care
Teach us to sit still
Even among these rocks,
Our peace in His will
And even among these rocks…

…And let my cry come unto Thee.
~T.S. Eliot from the conclusion of “Ash Wednesday”

Too many daily distractions prevent me from being still and seeking peace in my earthly life.  I constantly want to build up, to tear down, to keep moving, I care too much, I care too little — anything to avoid being like an inanimate rock.  There is always the awareness that everlasting stillness will come soon enough, much too soon, in the grave, in the forever of my becoming dust.

Yet even among the rocks they fail to stay rooted in place;  they are washed away with the waves, moved at the mercy of the tide, landing somewhere new and unfamiliar only to be stilled, then shifted once again.

Let my peace be among the rocks, to be picked up and moved where He wills, to settle where I am placed until the time comes to move again.   Let my peace be in the knowledge He has control, not I.

And so I cry out.
Even among the rocks
Even among the rocks

photo by Kathy Yates
photo by Kathy Yates

For Each and Every One

photo by Josh Scholten
photo by Josh Scholten

May today there be peace within.
May you trust God that you are exactly where you are meant to be.
May you not forget the infinite possibilities that are born of faith.
May you use those gifts that you have received, and pass on the love that has been given to you.
May you be content knowing you are a child of God.
Let this presence settle into your bones, and allow your soul the freedom to sing, dance, praise and love.
It is there for each and every one of us.
Thérèse de Lisieux

To love another person is to see the face of God….
~Victor Hugo from Les Miserables

photo by Josh Scholten
photo by Josh Scholten

Advent Meditation–Shiloh

Especially in the hubbub of holiday activities, I yearn for moments in which to breathe deeply, sit quietly and absorb the impact of what the Lord’s advent (“arrival”) really means.  Typically I find that respite when I’m lingering in the barn after feeding our animals and listening to them chew–a sense of contentment and fulfillment is a contagious thing.  It is my time of calm reflection: I long for an emerging peace to overtake me and flow with me afloat, like a river.

“Until Shiloh comes” is a prophecy of not yet unlocked mystery, as the name itself has potentially different meanings.  What is clear:  the Hebrew children of God were to expect great things from a future ruler to whom everything belongs.  Already in Genesis, there is written a promise of tranquility, an assurance of peace to come.

Peace arrived unexpectedly in a barn, softly, gently, swaddled and sleeping in a manger–and we all can linger there, overtaken and overwhelmed by tranquility,  a little longer.

Genesis 49:10