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Holding Hope

12/31/2019

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As the cold days of winter are upon us,
we carry seed to the feeder
so that even the smallest may find nourishment.
Doing so, reminds us, that we hold our own
hunger and dreams,
and that while we are strong and patient, 
we are also creatures who need
sustenance and encouragement.

We yearn to be our best and give our best to those we love,
and yet, to continue to do so,
we need encounters with joy and rest, companionship and freedom.
We wish we could be like those little birds
and take to the skies and the treetops
and sing our own lovely songs with zest and zeal of spirit!

But for today, with sunflower seeds in hand,
we will breathe deeply from this sacred earth and bless the cold air that fills our lungs.
We will notice the light resting easily upon the rough bark of the tree,
and we will hold hope as this New Year begins.
​
May we be comfort and find comfort.
May we trust the goodness present in each moment.
May we lean into simple pleasantries that are often born of both grace and labor.
And may we quietly allow ourselves
the gift of peace in the midst of our holy imperfections.
May we be reminded that little brown birds
fill the skies with songs
warmed by the breath of our yearnings and our small seeds of care.
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In Between Christmas and the New Year

12/29/2019

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It is the fourth day after Christmas.  On this early morning, my mountains are covered with  fog, and life beyond my window is grey and still. I’ve made my tea and am enjoying the glow from my Christmas tree and cozy candles around the room.  The hurry and scurry of the holidays is slowing down, and I find blessing in quiet time with my thoughts and the sweet Spirit of my God.
I find in moments like this, there is nothing but peace and beauty and hope so kind the joyful tears easily come.  And I bring to this sacred space, all those precious ones who have touched my life with love. There are so many! God connects me to the most amazing people who may not realize it or even believe it… but who minister to me in marvelous ways.  Grand gestures of love are wonderful, but those small, tender, everyday gestures are what heal us and comfort us and keep us going forward. These are the true gifts of Christmas happening in every season.
God has made my heart an open one where people feel safe to share the burdens they carry.  They sift through their thoughts and feelings and pour out the dark shadows that bury their joy.  They sometimes hold my hand. They sometimes speak in ways that cloak what they really want to say, but daily they come to me seeking some solace.  There is mending in words spoken aloud to a trustworthy companion who honors those words. There is grace in the encounters where the honest truth that tears at us is recognized.  We were not born to live lonely or alone. We were born to lean into the purest love, the deepest possibilities, and the warmest kinships all close at hand.
And as we lean in, as we grapple with the hard spaces and celebrate the glorious ones, we learn to love life and each other more.  We learn that life is an ongoing web of ebb and flow, holding close and letting go, and that there is a steadfastness in these comings and goings.  Those who confide in me are teaching me this lesson. I witness their falls, but then I witness their risings. I hold them in their tears, then dance with them in their laughter.  Life brings us to our knees and skins our tender skin time and again. Yet, we heal, we sing, and we go on to tend the one beside us who has yet to mend.
Today, I stand between Christmas and the New Year.  It seems every year at this time, I swim around in memories of the past while the sparkle of Christmas remains close.  My family and friends and all those sacred acquaintances step forward, and I am compelled to pray for them, to celebrate them, and to hope for them.  I wish so much I could create something beautiful that would surround them with holiness and bind them to the God of love. I wish so much I could encircle them with the sacred trust that they are made in the image of Love and that Love lives like a warm ember inside of them.  I want to be the soft fabric created by God that wraps the brokenhearted in comfort and renewal. I want my wishes to ignite the wishes of those who feel they have lost theirs. I wish I could place my hands on the hearts of the burdened and set them free.
Of course, I am a simple woman who recognizes her own limits and who understands that we are all called to find our own way.  But in my beautiful, human simplicity on this ordinary morning in December, I am giving my life to God again, so that my heart may be in tune to yours.   Let’s walk together soon as the fog lifts and as our songs arise.

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Come to the Stable

12/24/2019

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For all these many years of revisiting the Christmas story, I’ve felt so badly that  humankind didn’t take better care of the Holy family. We imagine that it was cold and physically taxing for Mary, so full of baby, to ride a donkey for miles on end.  We imagine that Joseph wanted the best for his beloved, that he worried for her and the baby, and that he wished for every safeguard imaginable to be in place for the birth of this child.  And what happens? They end up in a stable! In a drafty, most likely stinky, barn for the lowly animals. Jesus, God’s sweet son, was born in a barn. I mean, come on folks! Couldn’t we do better than that?

This Christmas, however, I’ve been thinking about that stable almost daily.  It has come to me in a new light this year… one that has been comforting and inspiring. Along with the birth of Christ… perhaps where he was born was intended to be a gift to our hearts.  He wasn’t born upon satin sheets in a room scented with the finest perfume. Nor was he born where throngs of people waited outside of the doors to catch a first glimpse or report the first story. His parents did not have a fine team of labor and delivery nurses or champagne to celebrate his arrival.  Jesus was born in the quiet, soft light of a stable where the cows lowed as Mary pushed.  

I’ve been going to the stable, metaphorically, throughout this advent.  I put on my boots. I grab some oats, and with tea in hand, I go to this sacred space.  Deep within, this stable space is where I can grow quiet, sit with my Maker, and uncover more of who I am meant to be.  I return to the well-crafted center of my heart where all parts of me are welcomed. This stable is a place of sustenance and peace.  Like Mary’s stable, it is also a guardian of labor, pain, and tears. It bears witness to and shelter for the yearnings and the births.

Perhaps in Mary’s stable, the cows and horse’s warmth heated the space and their hay filled the air with sweetness.  Perhaps their presence was a comfort to Mary as she remembered how animals deliver their babies so instinctively. And perhaps Mary was thankful for the privacy of welcoming her Son with only her beloved Joseph by her side.

I think of the darkness of night and the warmth of a lantern’s glow as the Holy family first saw their baby’s face, and how they rested together in one another’s arms under the rustic beams of that small barn.  Couldn’t it be that this stable was a blessing to this family and an ongoing symbol to all of us that we are called to find our own stable spaces of simplicity and grace.

What we need is most often… close… in the simplest of means.  Snowfalls and morning fog to slow us down. Shelter to give us warmth.  Loved ones to bless our lives. And the peace of God that is always reaching out for us.  I hope this Christmas you find your way to the stable and that in the coming year it brings you closer to your own peace and joy, and the ongoing blessings of God’s tender love.  May you, too, follow the small, yet bright light of the guiding star through the fields of your own life, and arrive at the humble stable that waits to make you new.

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    Kathy Guisewite

    "To be about there
      first attend to what is here
      everything connects."  KFG

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