On the eve of Ash Wednesday may we give thanks for the promise of light. We live in a world that seems to be thriving in darkness. May this season of Lent allow us to focus in this dark and find the cracks where light is trying to push its way through. Where it is struggling to enter let us bring the promise that light will return.
The light will return. It will come again when the darkness has grown old and self-confident, arrogant in its assumption of power, when the clash of armies seems unending and the voices of hope have become but a whisper. Then the light will appear, in the deepest place of fear, least expected, a glimmer in the hand of the poor, a flicker among those who refuse to forget how to love. And the light will become brighter, with each one of us who turn to see it, warming us where our pain is greatest, releasing us to see one another more clearly, a light to follow, to cherish, to protect. Look up now.
The season of shadows is over. The light will return.
I am again at a moment in my life when the value of time has become bright and focused. I sit on my porch to watch the wind blow across the mountains providing a way for trees to bend in gratitude. If there is energy to draw or read or pray, I use it with an awareness of how different things could be.
This is healing time, I know. Yet I still hear the call to ‘pay attention’. It can come from surprising places but it is the same. ‘Pay attention’ – as I read this entry from David Kanigan I was once again reminded…
It’s just time:
the book I read,
the letter I write,
the window I look out of.
Just a sleeve I keep trying to mend,
the spool diminishing.
Just my one hand writing words,
my other hand weighing the silences between them.
Post Title & Inspiration: Aldous Huxley: “It’s dark because you are trying too hard. Lightly child, lightly. Learn to do everything lightly. Yes, feel lightly even though you’re feeling deeply. Just lightly let things happen and lightly cope with them.”
No pessimist ever discovered the secret of the stars, or sailed an uncharted land, or opened a new doorway for the human spirit.
A week ago today I wrote to say that I was entering the steel and sterile doors of an operating room. A week ago tonight I was gradually climbing above the fog of anesthesia.
In seven short days I have experienced strength and weakness. I have felt brave and fearful. The recovery required more hospital time than I had anticipated. The second day I had to pray my fighting prayers to stay hopeful while new and VERY unpleasant tests were required. In the end all was well and I returned to my home where family and friends surrounded me with comfort and care.
Getting well takes work and attitude. Healing is never simple. Always details that require attention. Details that would normally make my skin crawl! But these were and are my details. Important to oversee with the bravest heart I can manage.
I am in the midst of positively healing. With surgery behind me I came home to wait for labs that would reveal the next road to be taken. In three short days (I was told it would be a week), the phone rang and my surgeon shared the best news- the cancer was contained, all lymph nodes were clear.
I felt my breath enter as if anew – as if this were my very first day.
And now I hear – ‘pay attention’. Healing is never simple. The mind and spirit join the body’s work to heal. I have been here before and each time the call to ‘pay attention’ grows in intensity.
The chance is before me once again- to discover secrets, cover uncharted lands and most especially – to open doorways.
With gratitude spilling over, I wonder – what could be waiting…