The cloudy glass

A look into a fogged mirror and you can barely discern yourself, muted colors and indistinct shapes are what look back through the condensation. How dim the future when we envision what is to come. The shapes are hardly recognizable and the colors are difficult to indentify. Sure we set goals, create action steps, analyze time commitments and make our plans in one and five year increments. How about the shape of our hearts, what do we want to believe in, in five years, what will the interior landscape of our souls become. What will our soul gardens look like further on this journey: shade trees grown huge, ponds teeming with life, fruit weighing down branches, ripe for picking. The reflection seen dimly is one looked at on the outside, the inner journey is much clearer and does not require a reflective surface, but rather an unobstructed connection to the core of our being.

Submerged

It is in the darkness that we find our true character. When the light has dimmed, we face ourselves, without the visual clutter of identity trappings we have purchased. The lightless times are gifts for us to reconsider our lives: where we are, where we are going, where we have come from, who we are, who we want to become, what we have been. It is not surprising that Jonah and Jesus spend three days in darkness, one in the belly of a fish, the other in the belly of death. Both get spat back out into life. Jonah is our point up to Jesus, and both are reminders that we all go through submerged times when light has failed and we cry out our anguish and come face to face with our deepest fears. Easter is a yearly reminder of life after the darkened tunnel. Spring glows with new life after the barren winter, green bursts forth from seemingly dead branches, blossoms adorn tree and plant. It is good to be reminded of the growth that comes from our winters, to assure us again that the dark cold always ends and a new season greets us with such potential.

Eve of the Palm

Thunder clouds rolled in and dropped their wet load over the city, just after sunset. An ominous reminder of the beginning of Holy Week. Darkness, cold and suffering are essential elements of life, before hope can be rejoiced in. How often, we dream of the monotony of paradise: blue water, white beaches and palm branches waving in a gentle breeze. Palm branches are meant to be waved this wekend, but not as a sign of the absence of stress but as the triumphal entry into Jerusalem and victory over death. Yes, the beach is an important place for the restoration of our soul, but Jerusalem is where the test of our faith will be played out when the crowd recognizes us as one of his followers. What shall we say? We waved the palm branch wildly in anticipation of sharing in the victory, but the reality of following in his path requires embracing the thunder clouds of life.

A River Within

A river is a beautiful visual picture of life. The rush of the water as it foams around rocks and drops over ledges in torrents of beauty. The motion slows when wider banks give it girth to meander through the lowlands. Traveling at a slower speed that allows for looking up at the overhanging trees and the cloudless sky on a lazy afternoon in mid summer. Ah, this is what the heart needs, a bit of slowing down, a time to look up and find out what color the sky is today, a chance to see what birds are winging through the branches of green-leafed trees, a closing of the eyes to hear the gurgling of the water agasinst the sides of the boat. To see life as upon a river, to see a river flowing within, to connect to life in all its mystery and wonder, that is what today should hold.