Blog
Playing
O Wisdom, how diverse are your works! In the great sea alone, there are countless creeping critters and all sizes of living things! Humans build ships to cross it, but you form Leviathan to play in it. – Psalm 104:24-26 (adapted)
I’m sitting at the end of a long bench in the food court, buzzer in hand as I wait for my order. The bench borders three sides of an informal stage – a raised platform where local art shows are staged and amateur bands perform.
For now, the stage is empty and the food court is noisy with people. A little girl in a pink tutu skips up the stage stairs and climbs onto the far side of the bench, which she walks like a balance beam – one foot in front of the other – until she nears the side of the bench where I’m sitting.
Three feet away from me, she stops. She stares not at me but at the space I’m occupying.
“Do you need me to move?”
She nods. I stand up, and she completes her balancing routine, taking a triumphant leap off the end of the bench. I sit back down as she scampers into the food court.
Two minutes later, she returns to skip around the bench. When she reaches me this time, I stand up automatically, grinning. Again she jumps off the end. Again I sit down. Again she returns.
I marvel that we adults choose seriousness more often than playfulness. We study ourselves seriously: what’s my Enneagram number, what’s my purpose in life? We study creation seriously, how to save it or how to monetize it. (I daresay we study one another that way too, too often.) We take a similarly serious approach to faith: what can be saved, what can be used, what needs to be cast off?
Meanwhile, Leviathan spins and splashes and plays in the vast sea of God’s creation, and God in her pink tutu makes a playground out of a food court.
Prayer: Jump and play around me, O Spirit, until I am provoked to join you in joy.
cross-posted with the Daily Devotional
Miracles
In every dawn veiled by silent fog,
before the sun scatters its mystery;
In every dark crevice of earth’s womb,
before the seed breaks open to root;
In every gasp of the unknown,
before certainty cements itself:
a miracle of wild possibility.
Harrowed
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Pit of Despair
Be gracious to me, O Lord, for I am in distress; my eye wastes away from grief, my soul and body also. For my life is spent with sorrow, and my years with sighing; my strength fails because of my misery, and my bones waste away. - Psalm 31:9-10 (NRSV) I do not wish...
Hyssop
Sprinkle death with truth, O Mercy, to dispel its plague upon the living. Mark every doorway with wisdom to guard against violent hatred that courses through the streets. Purge evil with fragrant hyssop. Bind up broken spirits and bones with cleansing joy. Make of...
Upstream
To make my way to the Source, I pray, and to understand how it carves through the rock and reshapes the earth along its holy path; I pray to meet the One who loves the path -- its movement more than its destination -- and to learn the patience of unknown ends; To...
Whispers
I hear a voice I had not known: “I relieved your shoulder of the burden; your hands were freed from the basket. In distress you called, and I rescued you. - Psalm 81:5b-7a (NRSV) I’ve never felt close to God in a personal buddy-buddy kind of way. It’s never been my...
Telling Trauma’s Story
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Covenants
Your promises I welcome, numerous and good, but the blamelessness I simply cannot manage. Perhaps, O Perfection, we can come to a different arrangement? I could give you my fear and awe -- easily; my name and faith, too -- several times over; but human things, O...
Sleepless
Tell me, stars, how often God has shown up for you in your cold existence. Over the millennia, how often has God been your renewal, your hope, your reason for being -- or have you died already, unnoticed, your light unrequited? Tell me, tears, if you ever grow tired...
Remembering
Remembering, O Light, that your sign of mercy is my sign of trust, from horizon to horizon, sunrise to sunset, mountains to seas. Taking a deep breath in, letting trust reach down to my toes. Remembering, O Life, that your time of patience is my time of wilderness...