Today in worship, I sat in the silence with my mind buzzing and the lists twirling. I gazed for a long time at the stained glass image of Christ, but still too many thoughts filled my head. And so I asked my mind to go to the field. Go out to the snow-covered field and take it in. As my mind followed the request, and saw the field near my home, open and wide, that spans to the rising of the mountains. I love looking at this field every day. And while my mind was there, taking it in, I heard this:
“Hold an open space in your being
like a barren field covered in snow.
Let it spill wide and long… all the way to the mountains
so that clarity may become your friend.
Deep peace will become your stance,
and there,
what you wait for
will come
or
not.
Either way, there is no need to worry.”
And so we stood there, my mind and I, breathing the cold air, watching the puffs return from my own lungs, and allowing the expanse to stretch me.
We all have confines. We are hemmed in at every turn. Sometimes we realize it and other times we only become aware of the barriers when we bump into them. People put them in place on our behalf. Cultures and organizations and politics and religions are famous for their skills with bricks. But what I realized today is that Spirit is skilled with air and imagination and the slow steadfastness of seasons. Spirit calls for expanse, for freedom, and for the quiet wisdom to engage in the task and craft of wholeness.
Today is the first Sunday in advent. What that means for me is that it is time to attend to the season of waiting and wondering. It is time to lay down my confines, my walls, and nestle into the dreamings of our Creator and imagine what is coming to fruition in me and in each of us. The Christ Child came to save us from the empty lostness of self. Plenty of doors will slam on us in this life. Plenty of belittling whispers will sound in our ears. Our very own guilty feelings and self-doubt easily knock us to our knees. But then December comes, and we are invited to the edge of an open field where something precious waits to be found in us.
Cris Williamson’s Song of the Soul:
“Love of my life I am crying. I am not dying; I am dancing! Dancing along in the madness, there is no sadness, only a song of the soul. And we’ll sing this song. Why don’t you sing along, and we can sing for a long, long time. Why don’t you sing this song? Why don’t you sing along? And we can sing for a long, long time. What do you do for a living? Are you giving, giving shelter? Follow your heart; love will find you, truth will unbind you and sing out a song of the soul. And we’ll sing this song. Why don’t you sing along, and we can sing for a long, long time. Why don’t you sing this song? Why don’t you sing along? And we can sing for a long, long time.”
“Hold an open space in your being
like a barren field covered in snow.
Let it spill wide and long… all the way to the mountains
so that clarity may become your friend.
Deep peace will become your stance,
and there,
what you wait for
will come
or
not.
Either way, there is no need to worry.”
And so we stood there, my mind and I, breathing the cold air, watching the puffs return from my own lungs, and allowing the expanse to stretch me.
We all have confines. We are hemmed in at every turn. Sometimes we realize it and other times we only become aware of the barriers when we bump into them. People put them in place on our behalf. Cultures and organizations and politics and religions are famous for their skills with bricks. But what I realized today is that Spirit is skilled with air and imagination and the slow steadfastness of seasons. Spirit calls for expanse, for freedom, and for the quiet wisdom to engage in the task and craft of wholeness.
Today is the first Sunday in advent. What that means for me is that it is time to attend to the season of waiting and wondering. It is time to lay down my confines, my walls, and nestle into the dreamings of our Creator and imagine what is coming to fruition in me and in each of us. The Christ Child came to save us from the empty lostness of self. Plenty of doors will slam on us in this life. Plenty of belittling whispers will sound in our ears. Our very own guilty feelings and self-doubt easily knock us to our knees. But then December comes, and we are invited to the edge of an open field where something precious waits to be found in us.
Cris Williamson’s Song of the Soul:
“Love of my life I am crying. I am not dying; I am dancing! Dancing along in the madness, there is no sadness, only a song of the soul. And we’ll sing this song. Why don’t you sing along, and we can sing for a long, long time. Why don’t you sing this song? Why don’t you sing along? And we can sing for a long, long time. What do you do for a living? Are you giving, giving shelter? Follow your heart; love will find you, truth will unbind you and sing out a song of the soul. And we’ll sing this song. Why don’t you sing along, and we can sing for a long, long time. Why don’t you sing this song? Why don’t you sing along? And we can sing for a long, long time.”
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