I’ve not seen a bird discouraged.
I’ve nursed many a feathered friend found after some fall or entanglement or left for dead by some taunting cat, but I never saw discouragement in their eyes, only gratitude and determination.
Be not discouraged.  Broken birds still find the sky.
 
I’ve not seen a winter downhearted.
I’ve seen them stark and sparse.  Trees barren against the cold winds.  Earth all shades of spent brown. But I never witnessed a winter cry as it melted into spring.  I never felt it ask for more.
Be not downhearted.  Winter stands satisfied with what is.
 
I’ve not heard the leaves fearful.
I’ve watched them grow green from narrow branches.  I’ve taken shade in their glory days and heard them chant lullabies to the stars on windy nights.  But I never heard them express fear. Their green changing to orange and yellow and red and the final brown bow proceeding their fall to earth.
Be not fearful.  Leaves dance all the way down.
 
I’ve not heard the rocks overwhelmed.
I’ve seen them pushed by water and worn into smoothness they did not ask for.  I’ve seen them fall from great mountain heights and land in ways that shattered them.  But I never heard them express overwhelm by what was out of their control. 
Be not overwhelmed.  Rocks are steadfast in peace.
 
We are not birds nor winter nor leaves or rocks.
We are not meant to disengage the heart and mind in ways that make us inhuman,
and yet there is solace in their ways.
The geese fly their sacred skyways, singing as they go.
And we?
We need not lose hope in this winding life, bewildering as it may be.
We must simply bear our souls to the Breath that is life and
sigh our sighs with longing and with joy.

Kathy Fuller Guisewite
January 27, 2018

Sunrise and sunset.  Seasons.  Blinking and breathing.  Birdsongs.  Miracles are present each and every day.  They sustain us even when we are not paying much attention.  They show up unrequested and in that blessed moment when they catch our eye, we are replenished from life’s doldrums and sorrows.  Every miracle counts.  Every miracle is a Divine intervention of grace.
 
Somewhere along the way, I lost the ability to pray for personal miracles.  I also lost a love of the scripture that says, “With God, all things are possible.”  With God, it is possible to endure the great tragedies of this life, but God does not spare us from these, nor does God magically undo that which cannot be undone.  We can be led to look at things differently, to put a positive spin on something that is quite disheartening.  We can even find God in the midst of impossibility, but God does not make all things possible.  For me, making peace with this has been a miracle in and of itself.
 
But… as I peer into the sweet face of a brand New Year, I am feeling a pull to ask God for what has been foreign to my life and my living.  I want to ask for a renewal of dreams and possibilities.  They have been dormant for a long time now.  They fell into some fault line, and rather than take the time to try and fish them out… I just kept going.  I kept looking at the small miracles and never dared to pray for the big ones down deep in the crevices.  My thoughts have been, if God does not make all things possible… then perhaps those impassioned embers of my dreams need not be stoked.  If I run full force towards those dreams, what will the fall be like if they are not meant to be?  Why would I risk such heartache?
 
This Christmas, I found myself drawn to the comfort of Mother Mary.  I always think of her more in the Christmas season, but this year, she seemed drawn to me.  You know how God can repeatedly put something in front of you to get your attention or to extend a teaching or understanding that helps you along your way?  Well, Mary has been walking with me the entire month of December.  She’s been quiet with me and comforting me.  She has welcomed my prayers.  And like my own mother, she’s put her arm around me and asked me what I need.  And I believe she has poured her own love into the crevices where my dreams have been buried and cast light there.  She is blowing her holy breath into my embers.  She is encouraging the sacred blessing of praying for what is possible for me.
 
Who can I be for God if I begin to dream again?  What miracle might be born simply by allowing the possibility?  Today, I begin this New Year with a grateful heart that Mary stands witness with me to the goodness that is past, to the hope that is present, and to the possibilities I am now eager to welcome in this new phase of my life.  May it be so.  Let it be.
 
https://youtu.be/5RxN_NDAxis
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