Synchronicity At Work...

I'm considering submitting some poetry for publication, so I revisited this poem, written last September. Seems this was a synchronistic moment:

Following the Star

Do you see it?

There,

Right there,

High in the sky…
there it is!

The Star!

I’ve never seen anything quite like it.
So bright,
so beautiful,
so compelling…

I find myself longing to follow that Star.

What?
You say I’m crazy?

Maybe…may be
But,
but what if,
what if following that Star just might lead me home?

What if following that star
just might lead me to the place of peace I long for?

My heart and mind are filled with desperate “what ifs”
that make staying here, in this place,
next to impossible.

So, here I am
like a crazy fool
packing my bags
loading this camel
and heading out over this desert,
into this broad expanse of wasteland.

I have to go
I’m compelled to follow

The Star calls me home.

September 18, 2010

I even posted it here on my blog back in September, along with a picture of the same SoulCollage® card that I did also in September. In retrospect, that star seems to have been pointing toward Pine, Arizona and my time spent at Spirit Falls on Sabbatical. I simply love how Life unfolds, always toward the next thing. Generosity at its finest. This synchronistic moment this morning gives me reason to once again give thanks to the Divine Unfolding.

Sabbaths

How long does it take to make the woods?
As long as it takes to make the world.
The woods is present as the world is, the presence
of all its past and of all its time to come.
It is always finished, it is always being made, the act
of its making forever greater than the act of its destruction.
It is a part of eternity for its end and beginning
belong to the end and beginning of all things,
the beginning lost in the end, the end in the beginning.

What is the way to the woods, how do you go there?
By climbing up through the six days’ field,
kept in all the body’s years, the body’s
sorrow, weariness, and joy. By passing through
the narrow gate on the far side of that field
where the pasture grass of the body’s life gives way
to the high, original standing of the trees.
By coming into the shadow, the shadow
of the grace of the strait way’s ending,
the shadow of the mercy of light.

Why must the gate be narrow?
Because you cannot pass beyond it burdened.
To come into the woods you must leave behind
the six days’ world, all of it, all of its plans and hopes.
You must come without weapon or tool, alone,
expecting nothing, remembering nothing,
into the ease of sight, the brotherhood of eye and leaf.

~ Wendell Berry ~


(A Timbered Choir)

POSTED SABBATICAL/SPIRIT FALLS PHOTOS

If you'd like to see my photos from my recent trip to Arizona and Spirit Falls, please go to http://sheilascorner1.shutterfly.com/

20 Years and Counting, Sabbatical 2010

I just returned from two wonderful weeks of Sabbatical in Arizona—two weeks by myself exploring new territory by myself. What a difference 20 years can make.



I began (really began) following Christ 20 years ago. My daddy had died, my husband had left, and my children were grown up enough to have begun leaving home. And I met the Living Christ. I had known Jesus all my life, but in 1990, I received an invitation to “follow me” that has changed my life.

It all began with a question I asked him, “Who the heck are you, anyway? Will the real Jesus please stand up?” I’ve laughed over that question for a long time now. It seems Jesus is still standing up! Who knew how little I really knew about him.

Then a funny thing happened about 10 years ago. It was as if Jesus stopped, turned around, and said to me, “Will the real Sheila please stand up! Just who the heck are you, anyway?! Who do you want to be? You have a part in your own becoming!”



That’s what this Sabbatical was all about, reflecting on the last 20 years, and the changes in my life that have come about as a direct result of following Jesus.

I was reading my Engaging Scriptures verses this morning, from Matthew 10, and my eyes fastened on verse 39: Those who find their life will lose it, and those who lose their life for my sake will find it.

20 years ago, I began the process of “losing” my life. I thought I knew so much then—I knew who Jesus was. I knew what it meant to be a “good” Christian. I knew what it meant to be a good wife and mother, and a good witness. I was good at being good. One of the first verses that Jesus gave me to learn was Galatians 1:10: Am I now seeking human approval, or God’s approval? Or am I trying to please people? If I were still pleasing people, I would not be a servant of Christ.

Now, you’re talking to a really good “people pleaser”. I had tried for 40 years to do it “right”, and to make everyone happy. And I had no clue how much of myself I had given up in the process. But the first thing it seemed Jesus did was draw a line in the sand and say, “Sheila, if you’re going to really follow me, you’ll have to make up your mind that pleasing people will not be on your agenda anymore.” Who knew?

And I prayed one of those radical commitment prayers (rcp) way back then, “Lord I want to trust you so much that I’ll follow you even if it looks like I’m going the wrong way.” Those rcp prayers are prayers that you’d never pray if you knew the outcome!

In the process of finding out who Jesus was/is, and finding out who I am, everything got turned kind of topsy turvy, and I lost both Jesus and myself a few years back. Everything got really dark, and I realized how little I knew about myself or about him. Everything I knew about everything got shaken—even my foundations were shaken until I wasn’t sure I could even call myself a Christian anymore. I wasn’t even sure I wanted to call myself a Christian anymore.

Slowly but surely the pieces of the puzzle have fallen back into place. Jesus doesn’t really look the same to me anymore. Like the Magdalene, I’ve learned I can’t hold onto my favorite “form” of Jesus anymore. And Sheila certainly isn’t the one I knew 20 years ago. Following Jesus has changed everything: my life, my faith, my politics, my hopes and dreams. I’ve discovered to my surprise that I LIKE living on the edge! I’m smart, too—not genius, not really, really smart, but a whole lot smarter than I ever thought I was. And curious?! O my gosh, I’m curious. I seriously didn't know I was curious! And I have this tendency to do exactly what I’m told NOT to do. I love pushing the envelope. And that “pushing the envelope” has tended to rattle not only my cage, but sometimes those around me. But a friend told me several years ago not to give up on Christianity—that there was a lot more to it than what I knew from my short-sighted perspective. The last two weeks has given me time to see just what has changed in my life.



Since I drove myself to Arizona, I had lots of driving time and I had the chance to listen to some wonderful conversations I had downloaded from the Evolutionary Christianity website with Michael Dowd. I remember the first time I wrote the word “evolution” in my journal probably 12 years ago. I kept waiting for lightening to strike, but it didn’t. I love what the new science is revealing to us about the Universe/God/the Pregnant Void. I “yeehawed” may way through at least 10 of these conversations literally shouting “YES” in my car all the way to Arizona and back home. There is so much MORE to “God” than I ever imagined, and a so much more expanded way to read Scripture, and such a larger point of view than I could ever realize.

And I perused through a number of books while I was there in Pine—what else does one do with so much snow and 4 days of solitude??? My favorites were a Wisdom trilogy by Cynthia Bourgeault: The Wisdom Jesus, The Meaning of Mary Magdalene, and The Wisdom Way of Knowing.



What I found in my listening and reading experience is that Christianity has the potential to being HUGE! Years ago I heard a “prophetic word” from a Kansas City pastor: “The face of Christianity will change in one generation.” It IS! From the very, very old ancient way of knowing to this new huge evidential way of knowing, the Holy is being revealed again to us in our time. And we get to be in the thick of it! Watching it unfold is an amazing thing! It’s been said that we are both hospice worker and midwife—watching something die and helping give birth to something new.

Occasionally I wish we could get another name—sometimes I feel the word “Christian” has been so stigmatized and so abused that it hurts, and I confess, sometimes shames me. But I chose today to still call myself “Christian”. I so love the man Jesus and what he did and what his life is still doing today—what he’s still calling us to.

So, 20 years later, I will firmly say, “This has been a great journey!” My life has expanded until sometimes I feel I’m about to burst. My ideas have been challenged, and my viewpoint has broadened. I LOVE being human. I LOVE living here on this beautiful blue planet called Earth. I LOVE finding Jesus in ALL people and ALL things. I LOVE being able to hear another’s religious views and NOT feel called to get them to change and be like me. I LOVE knowing there’s so much MORE, and that I don’t have all the answers. I LOVE the knowing that I don’t have to wait to die to find heaven—it’s here IN me and all around me. If I look with heart eyes, I’ll find heaven in you, too. I found heaven on I-10 in West Texas, in the deserts of Arizona, in the mountains, in those awesome spiritual vortices (red rocks) around Sedona, and I saw heaven in the most gorgeous sunrise yesterday, right here on my own deck.



My challenge isn’t to judge someone else’s life and their salvation; my call is to do my own work and let Love transform me, trusting everything else to that Consciousness that’s so much bigger than me.

I sat in church this morning and pondered for a few minutes just how delicious to me it is to have roots in the very, very old wisdom way, and to have wings to fly and explore the new. What a paradox life is. And what a joy it is to live it following Jesus—and unexpected challenge and pleasure. I’m glad he calls me Beloved—I am his and he is mine.

I found this little poem before I left for Arizona:

I would love to live
Like a river flows,
Carried by the surprise
Of its own unfolding.
John O’Donohue

When I got to Spirit Falls, Bhodi (my host) gave me this book to look through:




On the back cover was a quote that became my mantra for the week as I saw my “plans” being dealt the death blow: Everything is unfolding exactly as it should.

Perhaps my life HAS been carried like a river by its own unfolding, and guess what, I AM surprised!

Sabbatical 2010, Day 2

December 23, 2010

The day started early; I woke up about 5, thinking “Blinded by the Light…”

Here we are in Advent, looking for the Light, and when we find it (or it dawns on us), it can blind us. Makes me grateful for slow sunrises—but even those, at their apex, can blind us. I wrote a very long poem a few years back; I was reflecting on the “born again” experience and comparing it to an actual birth process—imagine coming from the darkness of Mother’s womb into the brightness of this big new world. All I want to do is close my eyes to protect them from the light. Not really sure where these reflections will lead today, but that’s what I woke up thinking about…

Morning prayer: Compel me to know your ways o Love; instruct me upon your path. Ps 25

I had a wonderful drive today. I was surprised, there’s hardly any “boring” strip of land, even from I-10. Beautiful hills, and almost mountains. I finally decided that I really should get off the Interstate, at least for a few minutes, so I detoured to “see” Ft. Lancaster Historical Park—o my gosh, what a beautiful sight.

First of all, I saw a real working Texas oil well,



then a deer, then another. I even had to stop my car for the second, as the 4-point buck bounded across the road, then leapt (with ease) over the fence. Shortly, I saw a sign, “HILL”, and another, “slow to 45”, so I did. And when I rounded the bend, what a beautiful sight I saw, a canyon! I was at the top, and the road was descending to the “fort” at the bottom.




The park wasn’t open yet, but the drive was breathtaking, unexpected, beautiful, miraculous!




Later I took another detour toward the Davis Mountains—not far, just far enough to enjoy the drive. Pulled over, had lunch and pulled out my paper and brushes. I was using Bienfang watercolor brushes, and the red “dumped”, but I loved it anyway. I played with the paints until a bee buzzed into my car, only about 15 minutes, but it was fun.





I arrived in El Paso at a little after 2. I’m just down the block from UTEP, where hubby went to school. It’s been a good day. Tomorrow’s Christmas Eve. It’s taken me two days to get across Texas, and tomorrow I’ll drive through two states in one day! I plan to go to midnight services tomorrow night in Tucson, then on to Pine Christmas day. The weather’s been great – what a gift!

Sabbatical 2010, Night 1, Sedona TX

Mother and I left home this morning about 8 and drove (with Tom meowing in our ear) to Columbus, where I passed Mother and Tom off to Sandy. She will continue on to Leander and spend a couple of weeks there with my brother Marshall and his wife Sandy.

Then I continued my drive to Sedona. It was a wonderful drive--I forget how absolutely beautiful the hill country is, even on the Interstate.

There's a couple of things I want to do every day--one is post an update and a quote; the other is sketch or draw something along the way. So, that's the reason for my rough drawing--suitcase and shoes at rest. Me, too. I have a feeling it will be an early night. But before I sign off, I want to log in my quote for the day. I'm nearly finished with Cynthia Bourgeault's The Wisdom Jesus. It has been a delicious book. This morning I read this wondeful quote from Rainer Maria Rilke's Letters to a Young Poet:

"Perhaps all the dragons in our lives are princesses who are only waiting to see us act, just once, with beauty and courage. Perhaps everything that frightes us is, in the deepest essence, something helpless that wants our love."

So, I'm off for the night. I'll check in again tomorrow.

Anyone who knows me knows I've struggled with Christmas for many years now, but I'm really learning to love Advent.

I wasn't raised with Advent,and never experienced it until I spent my time in the Catholic Church. I tried to celebrate it the usual way, with wreaths, calendars, special prayers, etc., but that never really worked for me. Advent for me is praying with my art.

Way back in 2003, my artwork came back to me--I think Mary gave it to me. I hadn't touched anything resembling art supplies in years--too busy chasing God, but in 2003, toward the end of November, I began dreaming of mandalas, so I began working with them. That was my journey back into art work, and without me realizing it, it was my introduction to praying with art. And I didn't realize then that I was in the Advent season.

Advent 2003 didn't find me any closer to they Mystery of Advent--it was still just a season on the calendar. But slowly, I've come to notice over the past few years, that Advent brings me a precious slowing down (even in all the hustle and bustle). Something begins to pull me back, slow me down, and turn me in. Last year, Andy said it--Don't struggle with Christmas; celebrate Advent. Look for the Light. So I did. Last year was an art journal. Look back a year on this blog, and you'll find it. This year, it's icons. I had the privilege of sharing my love for icons (something else I discovered during my time in the Catholic Church) with our Christian Formation class last week, and I knew I wanted to paint an icon. It's not egg tempera--may never be, but it is on wood, and I did "real" gold gilding! That was an experience! And I've thorougly enjoyed the experience of working quietly and meditatively this week. This has always been my favorite icon: Christ Pantocrator. This image is supposed to be the "sterner" image, but I love it.

Now, the paints go up, and the studio gets put back in some kind of order, and I won't use it again until next year. I leave next week on Sabbatical. I plan on doing some art while I'm gone, but in small doses. So, I wish you and yours a Merry Christmas. O, by the way, I read something this past week that made me stop in my tracks. Did you know that WE are the reason for the Season??? Because God loved us, Jesus came.

Merry Christmas, Happy Holidays, and Merry Yule to all my friends!