December Christ Mass

The following words were shared today as we celebrated Jesus' birth day.                                     

Christ Mass: Celebration of New Life! John 1:1-14

DeLIGHT in what you see and hear.  

Let’s celebrate the sights and sounds around us!  Let the trumpets blare.  

Let the light shine through the darkness.  

This is a time to stimulate all the senses as we usher into our midst new birth.  

The words in Isaiah and the Psalm remind us of God’s majesty set before us.  

No matter how dark the day, physically and emotionally, God reminds us of the Hope that was and is and is to come.

In the beginning the Word of God pierced the darkness with new light just as we pierce these dark days with one more lit candle through Advent.  

Today, we lit the fifth candle, the Christ Candle.  

Although the days are darker, we have more light to direct our path.  What if we had only five candles to pierce the dark of early morning or late night?  

What if we had no heat, no electricity, no light except from a brightly shining star on a clear night?  

That was enough light to draw the shepherds to the site of God’s only begotten Son, born of a virgin woman, flesh of her flesh, fully human yet fully divine.  

New life enters the world through a woman. 

In the beginning of creation God said, ‘Let there be light’  and Light shone in the abyss.

In the beginning God was . . . 

God: Father, Son and Holy Spirit . . . 

and They created through Word.

God said . . . and it was done.  

God began with Time and Space, created for us.  

Time equals space because time moves.  

Each word I speak uses time and that word enters into this space and moves into either your heart or the abyss.  

God spoke into creation all that we need to survive and grow and learn to live. 

God continues to speak.  

But do we listen?

God gave us choice: to listen to God’s Word and act upon what we hear or to ignore God and choose our own path.  

God speaks.  

We choose to be all in for God and live eternally or not. 

God, our Creator, created creation.  

God created creation to be creative and to create.

The Word came to us in the form of a seed planted in Mary through the power of the Holy Spirit.  

The Word, brought to her through the messenger from God, Gabriel, was planted in Mary only when she said, “yes.”  

Mary knew God intimately . . .  so intimately that she, like Joseph, interacted with God’s angelic messengers.  

God did not send an angel to change the world.  

God did not send a grown man to change our lives.  

God spoke the seed of life into Mary through the power of the Holy Spirit.  This ‘seed’ became flesh to walk with us, to talk with us, to be with us eternally . . . if we choose to invite the ‘Word made flesh” to dwell within us.  

In the beginning . . . was the Word . . . and the Word was with God . . .  and the Word was God . . . and the Word became flesh . . . this tiny baby . . . helpless . . . in need of others to survive . . . filled with God’s presence yet totally human . . .  dependent upon 24/7 care.  

This babe was nurtured not only by a loving human family but also through the divine family of God.  

God’s Word, the Light of God, pierced a dark world and continues to pierce hearts of those who seek God’s presence.

And so we celebrate Christmas, the Christ Mass, annually as well as every Sabbath.  We all know the story yet we anticipate the celebration of Christ’s birth as if it were a new awakening.  

And it is.  

Today is a new beginning . . . of our walk with Jesus, . . . of our connection to God incarnate.

God purposely became touchable, embraceable and relatable. The living Word of God spoke our language and walked an impossible path to show us we could do the same.   

Jesus, the Christ, became the new covenant through relationship. 

God incarnate walks with us eternally if we choose to submit our entire life to God.   

Covenant relationship means that God will never let go of us even if we choose to turn away from God. 

In the beginning was the Word and the Word was with God and the Word was God . . .  and the entire community of God works as One to guide all who chose to cling to God.

God Among us became God With Us, Emmanuel, in full accordance with words of the prophets.  

God with us, the Messiah, pierced the darkness for us, became the new beginning so we could have a new beginning.  

God’s story of new life through his Son, Jesus Christ becomes our story.  

As we cling to the Word made flesh and digest God’s words we learn to live out our own story in Christ Jesus.

Through our own immersion into life with the Word and in God’s word, our heart become fortified to withstand the joys and challenges of life.  

By living life in Christ, by living according to God’s plan for each of us, by simply trusting in God in the flesh, Jesus, the Christ, we become part of the larger story and can share with others how God has dwelt among us. . . . how the Lord’s presence fortifies us each day. 

Each time we allow the Holy Spirit to work through us, each time we celebrate God in the flesh, Jesus, the Christ, we are open to God’s direction.  

God wants us to spread the good news of the “Word made flesh”, “of  God with us”.  

Let’s enJOY a new beginning in our Christian walk as we share the miracle of new life in Christ and everlasting covenant with God.  

Merry Christ Mass!

NOVEMBER NUMERATIONS

We are settled in our winter place down south but this time of year we tend to remember the gifts given to us in our northern climate.

We are so Thank-Full for all those who have helped and continue to aid in hurricane clean-up.  We did fine but so many of our friends are still repairing and replacing.

     Gratitude swirls around us as we remember God's beauty surrounding us all year long.

As I linger in the sunshine of our winter abode, I recall fond memories of our summer place..

We give thanks for  flowers . . .  fresh or embroidered, following a fence or surrounding  St. Francis in our front yard.  Mums piled with pumpkins and surrounded by corn or a field of orange as far as the eye can see.

Mums and more mums.

In a cart or in a field.

Apples spilling into our basket,

ripe and ready to eat.

Hubby and I have been blessed beyond belief and we thank God each and every day for simply being alive.  

Hard work and good planning are only part of the reason we are able to live in two different places. 

We simply face life head on, deal with good days and bad days, and rejoice in God's abundance for us.

We give what we can of our time, our talent and, of course, our shekels.  After all, everything we enjoy is not ours to keep.  

Pocket change is a treat for so many.  Giving what we have to others seems to bounce back to us in greater abundance.  

We find we cannot out give God no matter how hard we try. Yet, it is not just the giving that is important to me.

Prayer is the most important part of my life and, unfortunately, does not take as much priority as it should.  Prayer: conversation with God.

All too often, I am doing all the talking.  God cannot touch me with Holy Spirit wisdom when I am chatting about whatever is front and center in my heart.  Yet, this is where God's grace is so endless.  If my endless chatting to the Lord keeps me in continuous connection with him, all the better.  That's why God came to us in human form, through Jesus, the Christ.  "God with skin on" Jesus, invites us into intimate conversation all day long . . . and all night long if that's what it takes.

Eventually, my soul comes to rest having spilled out all my concerns for self and others.  Eventually, I can simply sit in silence and wait upon that intuitive 'sense' that is able to 'listen' to the Holy One speak to my heart. 

 Only when I have spilled my woes out to the fullest or shouted my joyful thanks to the heavens can I rest in The Presence. 

God: Father, Son and Holy Spirit is in me and speaks into my soul when I choose to open myself to the prompts of The Presence.

Thank you, Lord, for letting me moan and gripe and then, when I am empty, fill my soul back up with gratitude. 

Thank you, Lord, for fond memories that continue to swirl through me as I extend my chatty moments with You.

Thanks you that, finally, I can rest in silence and listen for those grace-filled whispers from You that fill my soul and direct my path.

I give THANKS with a grateful heart . . . 

OH OCTOBER !

 So long, September, as storm Ian swirled through our southern home.

Hello October with visions that prompt despair.

Wind and water swooped in and picked up all in its path.

Boats and cars flipped through the air to land on highways.

Board and batten, old wooden homes, sprayed and flattened into nothing.

Wet upon wet, four to six feet high.

Soaking floors and walls until they fizzle and disintegrate.

Trees flip and buckle and rip up whole yards.

They miss homes but smash cars that now look like weak tin cans.

Prized possessions turn to dust.

Pictures and papers soak in mud.

“Never been through one this bad,” says a native Floridian

“I’m tough.  I’ll rebuild,” says another.

The ‘new’ ones say, “No more, we are done,” and make plans to move back north.

Paradise can only last so long before we are hurled into another storm.

Those who have been through many of these simply scratch our heads and say, “Thank you, God, that so few were killed.”  

Thank you, God, that we can clean up and rebuild our tiny abode in Paradise.

Hubby and I are blessed.

Our abode is safe.

We were not there to hear the endless screeching wind that never stopped.

We are safe.

We will return to paradise when streets are clear, when curfew is lifted, when safe water can flow again.

And then we will help those around us as we all . . .

regroup, 

rebuild, 

re-imagine paradise . . .  

until it happens again.

Oh October!

Although there was extensive damage on the West coast after hurricane Ian, help was 'staged' near Miami on the East coast, ready to go west when it was safe.  Because billions were spent over several years to enhance the "Power Grid" in Florida, electricity was, and continues to be, restored at record speed.  Even the hardest hit areas have some access to power and cell. 

SEPTEMBER SYMPHONY

 

A Symphony might be comprised of strings, woodwinds, brass and percussion instruments.

Symphonies bring forth sounds that are meant to move both heart and soul.

Sitting in a grand symphony hall I not only hear unique melodies but I also watch carefully as each musician provides a measure that adds to an explosion of my senses.

The strings may carry the tune for awhile before they pass it to another section. The percussion may maintain a steady beat or might even jolt us awake with its tympani.

No instrument stands alone throughout each masterpiece. 

A symphony is meant to impact each of us through the variety of instruments that blend with one another to complete the composition.

I listen to varied notes and tones as they weave their refrain through each set of instruments and bring forth a plethora of beauty.

In my mind, a good symphony draws from the designated composition a colorful mix that seems to translate into a tapestry of color.

In the same way the changes in weather that come forth in September offer that same symphony of  sight, sound, smell, taste, touch and so much more.

This year our very dry summer welcomed a two-day splash of rain that brought cooler temperatures at the beginning of the month.

Just a splash.

All done.

It was enough to soak the roots of our forty foot tall Leland Cypress that reigns over our small back yard and towers over the meadow below.

This splash of rain was just enough to welcome the rose and peach Echinacea I planted for Fall.

It was enough to soak the peach, gold and maroon Mums planted to replace wilting Hasta.

Rain cleans the air and seems to refresh everything it touches.

Temperatures drop and winds blow cold.

What happened to summer?

An autumn glow pops above the layers of green that mingle with our roses and winterberry bushes filled with berries ripening to bright red.

A tangled mess of Oregano, Russian Sage, Spearmint, Tarragon and Chives that weave through our gloriously colored bushes look as if they belong that way.

 

Our meadow, about forty feet down the hill from our garden, adds a jolt of color as weeds begin to bloom in majestic golds and yellows.  This maze of foliage dances around a few twenty foot tall trees in the middle that sprang up unintentionally.  The entire meadow comes alive with new sounds and magnificent color in September.

Cicada sounds kept us company all summer. 

When the rain came their sounds died back but now we hear very loud Cricket sounds that never stop.  Some nights the noise is so loud I linger a little longer before falling asleep.  When I wake in the wee hours of the morning I am greeted by their never-ending rhythmic screech.   

So why do I think of this seasonal change in the garden as if it were a melodious symphony?

I am reminded of God’s creativity in creation.  

God gives a few people the gift of creativity as notes are laid out on paper and then, in time, translated to various instruments.  In turn, these instruments, when working together in harmony, give those who listen a beautiful gift of music.

In the same way, God’s creation in a variety of seeds brings forth that same symphony for the senses in my garden. 

Seeds planted.

Blooms born.  

A variety of seeds spring forth varied shapes and colorful blooms that slowly grow and mature. 

The vibrance of Spring fades a little in summer but returns with a renewed brilliance by September.

These fall colors remind me of God’s power to give us more than we could ever ask.

Symphony Sounds and seasonal garden colors work together.

I listen to a symphony as my eyes gaze on my garden’s September brilliance. 

I grasp each moment with every one of my senses and plant God’s beauty in my mind as a treasure to cherish.

All my senses are, indeed, a treasure.

For instance, I am very myopic and cannot see detail easily even with glasses.

Yet, I see the blaze of color in the garden.

My hearing is more pronounced as I listen to the whirr of insects, birds and butterflies flitting about.

I love to taste my herbs as I pick them for flower arrangements and for drying.

Taste and touch seem to work together as my senses embrace the surrounding sights.

My need to pay attention to the changing beauty around me has not come easily.

I tend to get stuck in details and linger too long on the computer.

My friend, who is losing her sight, reminds me to look up at the clouds and trees, to linger just a little longer in the garden and drink in beauty that will remain in my heart long after the garden has died.

In the same way, I concentrate on the melodic refrain of a symphony and tuck the chain of notes into my heart as I hum these woven threads of beautiful sounds.

No matter the ‘symphony’ I am reminded to appreciate the senses God gave me to absorb the beauty that surrounds me.

Each month is precious but right now I delight in the September symphony that surrounds me as cool breezes wrap around me.

I’m reminded of the verse of scripture, “Delight in the Lord and what He wills for you and He will give you the desires of your heart.”

My heart swirls skyward as I seek a deeper desire for God’s will to direct this September symphony that sings in my soul.

 

AUGUST ANGST

 

August is a crazy month where we live.

We’ve transitioned from July dry heat to cooler nights with a bit more moisture.  The extremely deficient summer rains have finally drenched my thirsty garden.

For me, August is a time to think about the close of summer lingering as I prepare for another season of leading and teaching.  

Along with transition comes Angst. 

Do I have to exchange my flip-flops for real shoes?  

Do I dig out another layer of clothing for those cool nights? 

Does my lazy lingering on the porch seem less frequent? 

 

It seems silly to get bent out of shape when anticipating transition but changing from the free flowing unscripted months of summer into a more structured season of learning and growing does cause me some angst.

Summer is a time to dig in the earth and watch bees make honey.

It’s a time to linger on the porch and stare out at the bird house as mama and papa birds feed their young.

It’s a time to move little, enjoy a good book, embrace tranquility and unload any burdens I place on my shoulders regarding schedules.

Schedules.  

That’s where the Angst begins.  

Suddenly I am ‘scheduled’. 

More meetings and classes.  

More expectations that I put upon myself.

Every year it’s the same.  

Why do I stress over structure that I relish?

Why do I get bent out of shape with false expectations for myself?

Why do I care to even continue with curriculums and creating new experiences for others?

A flood of details seem to swim past me as I try to catch a glimpse of order in the chaos of my crazy, out-of-the-box mental processing.

I tend to think in circles instead of straight lines.  

In fact, when I take notes I rarely write in a straight line.  

My mind digresses so I add a circle of words here and there or I turn the page sideways to write in the margin.  

I end up with scribbles that others couldn’t possibly understand.

That’s why I tend to create rules for myself.  

A rule, just like a ‘ruler,’ can create a straight edge to help my mind think in straight lines.  

A set pattern, like a mathematical formula, can keep me on track. 

I can memorize a pattern, an order of thinking, and remain focused.

Easier said than done.  

When I am given the opportunity to shape a new curriculum I can feel the heavy burden of perfection.  

I’m weighed down with my own expectations to perform flawlessly.  

Needless to say,  most of what I accomplish rarely has anything to do with me.  

My soul tends to give my mind’s tangled threads of creativity to God in prayer.  

I mull over what I ought to do far longer than actually setting out to accomplish each task.  

Because of the ‘mulling’ I have a choice.

I can let my creative solutions fall into place gradually or I can grab them in mid-air, when they are not yet complete, and carry needless Angst on my shoulders.

It’s like grabbing a half-baked loaf of bread from the oven and wanting the cool air to complete the finished product.  

Yet, waiting for those creative solutions to fall naturally into place is a bit of a risk.  

What if my half-baked ideas never get done?

What if the deadline for completion of my list of tasks is at hand?

What have I done before?

I have had plenty of practice with this conundrum throughout my very long life.

As usual, I wait until I am out of time.  

I feel myself getting all twisted inside.

When I am firmly bent into the most uncomfortable shape I finally release it all back to God.

How crazy is that!

You think I would learn not to repeat this maze of angst I’ve endured over the decades.

The only solution I know is to keep tossing it back to the Lord every time I choose to capture un-processed prayers.  

One cannot talk to God without taking time . . .  

lots of time . . .  

too much time, in my opinion, . . .  

to listen.

When I read the healing scriptures I am reminded that most of the healing, or returning to wholeness, began with each person seeking help from the healing hand of Jesus.  

One word or a touch from Jess and the person is made whole.  

If I take the time to sit quietly, remember the stories and articulate my needs to the Lord, I will have the answers.  

One word of scripture.  

One touch of the Holy Spirit.  

Waiting a little longer than I anticipate.  

That’s all it takes.

If I do this daily, the artificial weight I carry on my shoulders will dissipate.

IF

I choose to turn ‘if’ into ‘when.’

I choose to make a new rule of life.

I choose to create . . .  and memorize . . . a new life pattern.

I choose to unload my ‘angst’ daily to the Lord, thy God.

I choose to wait, to linger in God’s holiness a little longer each day.

I choose to embrace every daily, weekly, monthly transition as an opportunity to meet with my Lord, 

to un-bend, 

to let go, 

to breathe deep the wholeness the Holy Spirit chooses to give to me.

“Come Holy Spirit.  

Fill my heart as your faith-filled one.  

Kindle in my heart and soul the fire of your love, your healing touch, your spirit of wholeness.  

Renew my soul.  

Renew my body.  

Renew my life perspective each time I am called to transition into a new space You have laid out for me.

As St. Augustine said, “"O Holy Spirit, descend plentifully into my heart. Enlighten the dark corners of this neglected dwelling and scatter there Thy cheerful beams.”  

No more need for August Angst.

We have God’s healing hand to quell our spirit and make us whole.