Monday, June 3, 2013

Faith in the Mean Time

It's interesting just letting go and letting be what is.  Often times, simply standing still in the middle of the storm invigorates. In the words of an old Quaker hymn: "No storm can shake my inmost calm while to that rock I'm clinging. Since love is lord of heaven and earth, how can I keep from singing?"

A sense of equanimity pervades my being; not much riles me now. But I also find that I am deeply passionate even more than before about issues in which I believe. This is a deeply-felt feeling that is balanced by the spiritual.

Life is truly a sacrament--all of it--not just the neat and tidy, but also the dull and grimy. Living in the present moment reveals such freely-given grace in the darndest of places. It's breathtaking.

Birdsong and car horn's blaring, my psalms of praise to an unknown God. Being present to all beings, sentient or not, my communion of love. Graffiti of wall and heart, my scripture. Tears of gratitude or frustration, or both, baptism. A smile of acceptance, my absolution.

Let me, then, be a minister, not of creed and ordo, but of hope and silliness, of comfort and compassion. Let me know that I may not have all the answers other than to be deeply present.

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