Winter Solstice

"Finish each day and be done with it. You have done what you could. Some blunders and absurdities have crept in; forget them as soon as you can. Tomorrow is a new day" (Ralph Waldo Emerson).

"There comes a moment when attention must be paid.... A time to embrace mystery as my native land. And silence as my native tongue" (John Kirvan)


Every day is a new life. If that be true, then every night is a new death. Is not sleep an act of faith? If it God in whom we trust to carry us through each day, then how much more is it not God who keeps us in his love, keeps us safe, keeps us breathing, all through the night?

"I will both lie down and sleep in peace, for you alone, O Lord, make me lie down in safety" (Psalm 4:8).

And even if the breathing stops, we know that God will carry us through the night. And this is not a morbid reflection. Jesus said, the one who wants to save his life will lose it, the one who loses her life for me will save it. Joy comes in the morning.

So if every night be a type of death and every morning a resurrection, then tonight -- the Winter Solstice -- the longest night -- is a night when it is even more appropriate to pray the prayers of Compline or "The Great Silence" as Macrina Wiederkehr describes it in Seven Sacred Pauses.

Here are some prayers from that book:

Protect us, Lord, as we stay awake; watch over us as we sleep,
that awake, we may keep watch with Christ,
and asleep, rest in his peace.

(The Liturgy of the Hours)

O Most High, when I am afraid, I put my trust in you.

(Psalm 56)

Sleep, my child, and peace attend thee,
all through the night.
Guardian angels Love will send thee,
all through the night.
Soft the drowsy hours are creeping,
hill and dale in slumber sleeping,
I, my constant vigil keeping,
all through the night.

While the moon, her watch is keeping,
all through the night.
While the weary world is sleeping,
all through the night.
O'er thy spirit gently stealing,
visions of delight revealing,
Breathes a pure and holy feeling,
all through the night.

(Traditional Welsh)

And to close, one of my own favorites, which we often sing to the same Welsh tune as "All through the night." In Welsh, AR HYD Y NOS.

Go, my children, with my blessing, never alone.
Waking, sleeping, I am with you, you are my own.
In my love's baptismal river,
I have made you mine forever.
Go, my children, with my blessing, you are my own.

(Jaroslav J. Vajda)

January 2010 Reading List

For quite a while I've been thinking it's time to return to visit some old friends. I've always been a list-maker, sometimes starting a new year with a list of 100 or more books I hope to read, figuring, "...well even if I just read half...." But the list sometimes gets lost and good intentions turn into feelings of "I should have..." and that's not healthy or productive or God's intention for me at all. So this year... maybe one month at a time. Ha. Anyway, beginning around December 27, I plan on enjoying the company and wisdom and humor of...

Seven Saints (all women) and One Sardonic Sedaris

Flannery O'Connor. A Good Man is Hard to Find and other stories
Annie Dillard. Teaching a Stone to Talk: Expeditions and Encounters
Anne Lamott. Operating Instructions: A Journal of My Son’s First Year
Kathleen Norris. A Cloister Walk
Mary Oliver. Why I Wake Early: New Poems
Naomi Shihab Nye. 19 Varieties of Gazelle
Alice Walker. Her Blue Body Everything We Know: Earthling Poems: 1965-1990 Complete
David Sedaris. Me Talk Pretty One Day

A Prayer for Chili & Cornbread

At our snow-day, Advent dinner table, after the first nibble of the cornbread muffins, and after the first complaint about them, Luke prayed, "God is great, God is good, and we thank him for our food. Amen." To which Dad added, "For the chili and for the cornbread. Amen." To which Elyse added, "Even if the muffins aren't as good as the last time. Amen."

Comfort Food for a Snow Day

I am always looking for a good excuse, especially in the fall and winter, to make a really good soup. And, yes, I know, perhaps the phrase "looking for a good excuse" is a commentary on my often-too-full, often-too-fast pace of living. But snow days -- the blizzard warning for our area runs through midnight tomorrow night -- have a way of slowing us down. And I needed it.

Elyse and I made this soup together this afternoon using a recipe from Twelve Months of Monastery Soups.

Potato and Cheese Soup

Ingredients
3 tablespoons butter
2 leeks, thinly sliced
4 large potatoes, peeled and diced
5 cups water
2 cups milk
1/2 cup Cheddar cheese, grated
salt and white pepper to taste
paprika

Melt the butter in a soup pot. Add the sliced leeks and saute them for about 2 minutes on low heat. Add the diced potatoes and continue sauteing for another minute while stirring continually.

Add the water and cook over moderate heat, covered, for 30 minutes, or until the vegetables are soft.

Add the milk, cheese, salt, pepper, and paprika, and bring the soup to a boil. Turn off the heat and let the soup stand, covered, for 10 minutes. Serve hot.

Serves 4-6.

I couldn't find leeks before the blizzard so we substituted minced garlic and a whole white onion, chopped but not finely chopped. We used skim milk but I think 2% or whole milk would be better. Or, one cup skim and a one cup Half & Half. For the cheese I used Vermont Sharp White Cheddar. Really good!

The monks never make their soups too thick or rich. This is a pleasant mix of potato and cheese. You can actually taste the potato, not just the cheese or cream. Follow the recipe, and don't overcook.

Joy in simplicity. Just another lesson we can learn from the monks.

Celtic Advent

Celtic Advent, a full 40 days of prayerful preparation for Christmas, began yesterday (Nov 16). So, from this point on, I promise to bite my lip and stop complaining about all the early Christmas advertising. And just pray, "Come, thou long-expected Jesus, born to set thy people free; from our fears and sins release us, let us find our rest in thee. Israel's Strength and Consolation, Hope of all the earth thou art; dear Desire of every nation, Joy of every longing heart" (Charles Wesley).

It Would Be Easier to Pray...

It Would Be Easier to Pray if I Were Clear

O Eternal One, it would be easier to pray
if I were clear
and of a single mind and a pure heart;
if I could be done hiding from myself
and from you, even in my prayers.

But, I am who I am,
mixture of motives and excuses,
blur of memories,
quiver of hopes,
knot of fear,
tangle of confusion,
and restless with love; for love.

I wander somewhere between
gratitude and grievance,
wonder and routine,
high resolve and undone dreams,
generous impulses and unpaid bills.

Come, find me, Lord.
Be with me exactly as I am.
Help me find me, Lord.
Help me accept what I am,
so I can begin to be yours.
Make of me something small enough to snuggle,
young enough to question,
simple enough to giggle,
old enough to forget,
foolish enough to act for peace;
skeptical enough to doubt
the sufficiency of anything but you,
and attentive enough to listen
as you call me out of the tomb of my timidity
into the chancy glory of my possibilities
and the power of your presence.

Ted Loder
Guerrillas of Grace: Prayers for the Battle

One of the most honest prayers I've ever read. I could say that prayer (which I did not write) and it would still be more honest about me than most of the prayer I have written. Does that make any sense at all?

Obviously, Ted Loder wasn't thinking of me when he wrote that prayer. It seems that one has a much better chance of "connecting with others" when one's words are more honest, more specific, more concrete. One might think relating to everyone requires generalities, but that's not the case at all. Generalities end up connecting with no one. On the other hand, specific, concrete words -- even when they don't "exactly" fit one's own situation -- seem to make a connection with almost everyone. That's the beauty of Ted Loder's prayer.

Peace Love & Coffee... Randy

Sharing a Gift

This is a poem by John O’Donohue which was read at a remembrance service this week at Dartmouth for patients in Palliative Care. This poem was shared with me yesterday by Dr. Cory Ingram, M.D., who was present during Carolyn's time in Hospice Care at ISJ-Mankato. Cory is a graduate of Central College, Carolyn's alma mater in her hometown of Pella, Iowa. Cory is on a one year Palliative Care Fellowship at Dartmouth under the tutelage of Ira Byock, M.D., the author of Dying Well: Peace and Possibilities at the End of Life and The Four Things That Matter Most.

Beloved ones,
Though we need to weep your loss,
You dwell in that safe place in our hearts
where no storm or night or pain can reach you.

Your love was like the dawn
brightening over our lives,
awakening beneath the dark
a further adventure of color.

The sound of your voice
found for us
a new music
that brightened everything.

Whatever you enfolded in your gaze
quickened in the joy of its being;
you placed smiles like flowers
on the altar of the heart.
Your mind always sparkled
with wonder at things.

Though your days here were brief,
your spirit was alive, awake, complete.

We look toward each other no longer
from the old distance of our names;
Now you dwell inside the rhythm of breath,
as close to us as we are to ourselves.

Though we cannot see you with outward eyes,
we know our soul’s gaze is upon your face,
smiling back at us from within everything
to which we bring our best refinement.

Let us not look for you only in memory,
where we would grow lonely without you.
You would want us to find you in presence,
beside us when beauty brightens,
when kindness glows
and music echoes eternal tones.

When orchids brighten the earth,
darkest winter has turned to spring.
May this dark grief flower with hope
in every heart that loves you.

May you continue to inspire us:
to enter each day with a generous heart.
To serve the call of courage and love
until we see your beautiful face again
in that land where there is no more separation,
where all tears will be wiped form our mind,
and where we will never lose you again.

John O’Donohue
To Bless the Space Between Us (pp. 170-1)

A night prayer...

This and every night
seems infinite with questions,
and sleep as elusive
as answers.

Pain and longing are always present,
dulled only a little
by the distractions of the day.
I am weary; I am angry.
I am confused.

Circle me, Lord;
keep despair and disillusionment without.
Bring a glimmer of hope within.

Circle me, Lord;
keep nightmare without.
Bring moments of rest within.

Circle me, Lord;
keep bitterness without.
Bring an occasional sense of your presence within.

Adapted from CELTIC DAILY PRAYER from the Northumbria Community
HarperSanFrancisco, 2002

Shrimp and Corn Chowder

Luke and I spent an evening in the kitchen a few nights ago, making shrimp and corn chowder. We mostly followed a recipe from Twelve Months of Monastery Soups by Brother Victor-Antoine d'Avila-Latourrette. I'll pass the recipe along here, a nifty (and accurate) quote from the same book, and a few notes from our own experience...

Ingredients:

5 cups water
2 onions, chopped
2 celery stalks, chopped
1 small chopped green pepper
1 finely diced carrot
2 large potatoes, diced
1 bay leaf
2 tablespoons flour
2 cups milk
1 17-ounce can creamed corn
1 cup whole-kernel corn
1 pound shelled shrimp, cooked
salt and pepper to taste
finely chopped parsley and paprika (as garnish)

1. Pour the water into a large soup pot. Add the onions, celery, pepper, carrot, potatoes, and bay leaf. Bring to a boil and then simmer slowly, covered, for about 20 minutes.

2. Dilute the flour in milk and add to the soup.

3. Add the corn, cooked shrimp, and seasonings. Blend and stir the soup, cooking for a few minutes over low-medium heat. Remove the bay leaf. Serve the soup, garnishing each bowl with a sprinkle of chopped parsley and paprika. Serves six.


"In 15 intervening years I had forgotten how delicious was this shrimp and corn chowder. I have since made it with both fresh and frozen corn--and can hardly tell which is which. I have also used frozen shrimps with excellent results.... The thin white sauce that gives the chowder its special creaminess is made separately and brought together with the other ingredients in the preparation."
-Bernard Clayton, Jr., The Complete Book of Soups and Stews

Well, as is so often the case with soups, I expanded the quantities of ingredients as I went along, and ended up with a big, big batch! It started with the onions, which, like most of the ingredients, came from a trip to the Mankato Farmer's Market. I had three onions and decided to use them both. I used three stalks of celery instead of just two. I had a large--not small--green pepper. I used two small carrots which were very, very fresh. Luke cleaned the whole basket of small red potatoes. So we added another 3/4 cup of water. We kept the milk at 2 cups and used skim. Whole or 2% might have been better, but it was wonderful just the same. Creamy but not too rich. We had two ears of corn from the market which we boiled for just a few minutes and then sliced off the ear. We used the creamed corn as called for but also a can of whole corn. The shrimp was frozen and uncooked. We put it in a hot frying pan with 2 tablespoons of extra virgin olive oil, sprinkled on some of Emeril's "Essence" and then let it cook for about seven or eight minutes. We skipped the bay leaf and the garnish. It was a huge batch. And it was wonderful. It was wonderful served immediately after making it. It was excellent warmed up the next two days. And we still have more.

There is something wonderful about cooking with someone. "The Luker" and I had a great time. He even helped clean up!

Schedule for Ball Games

June/July 2009 – Softball & Baseball for Elyse & Luke

29-June
Elyse to Pella

30-June
Luke
6:15 (H)

2-July
Luke
6:15 (Mankato)

3-July
Elyse camping w/ friends

7-July
Luke
6:15 (H)

8-July
Elyse
6:00 (H)

9
Luke
6:15
(St Clair)

13-July
Elyse
7:30 (H)

14-July
Luke
6:15 (Mapleton)

15-July
Elyse
6:00 (Mankato)

16-July
Luke
6:15 (H)

18-July
Elyse
Tourney in Lake Crystal

20-July
Elyse
6:00 (Mankato)

21-July
Luke
6:15 (H)

22-July
Elyse
6:00 (Mankato)

23-July
Luke
6:15 (Mankato)

27-July
Elyse
6:00 (St. Peter)

2-August
aWelcomingChurch.org
CHURCH BUS TRIP
Twins vs. Angels

Stitch by Stitch, Day by Day

With gratitude and love for my sister (in-law) Lisa, who wrote this eulogy and read it at the Memorial Service for Carolyn two weeks ago in Pella. In fact, as I post this, I realize that it was exactly two weeks ago almost to the minute that I was praying these words at the cemetery:

O Lord, support us all the day long
until the shadows lengthen
and the evening comes
and the busy world is hushed,
and the fever of life is over,
and our work is done.
Then, in your mercy,
grant us a safe lodging,
and a holy rest,
and peace at the last;
through Jesus Christ our Lord.
Amen.

Stitch by Stitch, Day by Day
A Tribute to Carolyn Jaarsma Lubbers



Carolyn loved to stitch. You can see before you some of the many beautiful pieces she created with her hands. The dates on the pieces show that even through the last four years, Carolyn continued to stitch. It was her passion and perhaps even her therapy. She created her pieces in the same way she lived her life, stitch-by-stitch, day-by-day.

Mom has called Carolyn “God’s special creation”. There is no doubt God designed the beautiful, intricate pattern of Carolyn’s life; Carolyn brought God’s creation to life through her living.

Anyone whoever watched Carolyn stitch knows she could stitch two-handed. You could see one hand working on top of the piece swiftly forming the Xs, but the other hand below deftly guided the needle back to the top. Carolyn was more like that left hand, getting things done quietly behind the scenes, never calling attention to herself. The backs of Carolyn’s pieces are as almost as neat as the fronts. Carolyn lived in such a way that nothing needed to be hidden from view.

A friend of Carolyn’s, Cyndi Boertje, noted that Carolyn was often the thread that held so many of us together. She valued relationships and worked hard to keep friends, family, and even this church held together through good times and bad times.

The threads she most commonly used in her life were love, joy, peace, patience, kindness, goodness, faithfulness, gentleness, and self-control.

Self-Control – Carolyn did not like foul language. When things surprised her or frustrated her, you could hear say such things as holy moley, jeepers creepers, holy smokes, by golly george, fiddlesticks, fudgecicles, and, a favorite, “holy buckets of soup!”

Gentleness – Carolyn always put others first and never wanted recognition for what she did.

Faithfulness – Carolyn was a faithful friend, and ever devoted to her family.

Goodness and Kindness –Carolyn could be the living definition of these words.
In the past few days we have heard so many comments about Carolyn’s radiant smile. Her smile reflected her goodness. Carolyn’s first thought was always how she might help someone. Carolyn’s domain was the kitchen at home and at church. Carolyn fed the body while Randy fed the soul.

"Gezelligheid" is a Dutch word that means cozy, togetherness; Carolyn was “gezellig.” Our Dutch “sister”, Miriam, sent a tribute to Carolyn via e-mail:

“It is hard to think of what to say to you Carolyn because words can never express how special you were…your unlimited love and interest in others. You always made everybody, including me, feel very special without wanting anything in return. When I think about you I think about 'gezelligheid', cross-stitching away with Tom Cruise and popcorn balls, zipping up the Swiss hills in the ‘Suzuki way too small', and you running through the sprinklers at the wooden shoe pond on a hot summer day. Carolyn thank you so much for being you, I'm so happy you were in my life and you will always be in my heart.”

Carolyn had an uncanny way of knowing when to give support and encouragement. A phone call often came at just the right time. Even as she battled cancer herself, she gave comfort and encouragement to women newly diagnosed. Her advice was, “just take it one day at a time.”

Patience – Throughout her entire illness, Carolyn maintained a positive attitude. When asked how she was doing even on bad days, her answer was “all right.” She stitched during the long hours at the hospital getting chemo and the long days recuperating at home.

She patiently taught her step-son John how to cross stitch. She patiently put up with my piano and flute practicing, even though she and Kristi occasionally yelled, “Mom, make her stop!” Carolyn obviously had to have patience to put up with Randy through marriage. ☺

Peace – Carolyn valued peace above almost anything. She didn’t like it when the world wasn’t spinning quite right. During our weekly Sunday dinners at Mom & Dad’s, Randy and I would sometimes argue politics at the dinner table. She never liked that, but one day she put her hands over her ears and yelled, “Just stop it!” We did.

Joy – The stories we have heard over the last few days have almost all involved Carolyn’s joy and love as well as fun and silly memories. Carolyn made everyday life a celebration for those around her, especially children. Carolyn was the favorite “silly” aunt. Elyse and Luke, Aric and Alli spent many hours together in Pella. They looked forward to macaroni and cheese, chicken nuggets and lemonade for Saturday lunch. They remember the endless crafts Carolyn came up with (the messier the better). They remember picnics under the tree, climbing trees, lemonade stands, walking to Big Rock Park, and playing outside no matter the weather. Even last Christmas, Carolyn was the “car” on the floor for my two boys. No child was exempt from Carolyn’s tickling fingers and big bear hugs.

Carolyn had a way of turning lemons into lemonade. Rainy days became an opportunity to run in the puddles along the street. Carolyn even encouraged Alli to find worms to torment the boys. When Elyse had chicken pox, Carolyn gave Aric and Alli paintbrushes and had them paint Elyse with calamine lotion. As Carolyn started losing her hair after her first round of chemo, she let the kids shave her head. Lemonade.

Love – Above all, Carolyn allowed all of us to experience unconditional love. She accepted us as we were. She never held a yardstick we had to measure up to. I think 1 Corinthians 13: 4-8 is very appropriate for Carolyn. Please forgive the liberty I have taken to change it a little:

Carolyn was patient and kind. Carolyn was not jealous or boastful or proud or rude. Carolyn did not demand her own way (very often). She was not irritable (usually) and kept no record of when she had been wronged. She was never glad about injustice but rejoiced whenever the truth won out. Carolyn never gave up, never lost faith, was always hopeful, and endured through every circumstance. Carolyn will last forever.

Carolyn has left behind a legacy far greater than her stitching. Her handiwork will live on in her children, her family and friends in the ways she touched each of us and made our lives better.

Shortly after her cancer diagnosis, Carolyn told Mom, “I am going to live until I die.” She lived well…and she did it her way…stitch-by-stitch, day-by-day.


Lisa Jaarsma Zylstra
June 8, 2009

Images of Love

My favorite images of love, at least today, are...

(1) Psalm 103
(2) My daughter Elyse "mothering" her little brother...
(3) the gospel of Luke, chapter 15
(4) the beatitudes in Matthew 5
(5) notes from classmates of Elyse on the Caring Bridge
(6) three women from church doing spring cleaning for us
(7) the hug of a friend
(8) making Christmas cookies on Dec 24
(9) holding hands
(10) and this great story...

An argument arose among them as to which one of them was the greatest. But Jesus, aware of their inner thoughts, took a little child and put her by his side, and said to them, "Whoever welcomes this child in my name welcomes me, and whoever welcomes me welcomes the one who sent me, for the least among all of you is the greatest" (Luke 9:46-48).

Leisure

This was one of Garrison Keillor's featured poems on today's edition of The Writer's Almanac.


Leisure

What is this life if, full of care,
We have no time to stand and stare.
No time to stand beneath the boughs
And stare as long as sheep or cows.
No time to see, when woods we pass,
Where squirrels hide their nuts in grass.
No time to see, in broad daylight,
Streams full of stars, like skies at night.
No time to turn at Beauty's glance,
And watch her feet, how they can dance.
No time to wait till her mouth can
Enrich that smile her eyes began.
A poor life this if, full of care,
We have no time to stand and stare.


Leisure. By William Henry Davies

Space for God by Don Postema

There are a few books which are so significant and so full of depth, books which, for me, have been life-changing and transformational, books that are sometimes difficult to explain, describe, or discuss with a friend who hasn’t read them, other than to say, “You need to read this book!”

Are there any books like that for you? (Hey, this might make a good Facebook list.)

Anyway, by way of example, here are four very different books which have been transformational for me, books of significance, books I will read again sometime soon:

Death of a Salesman by Arthur Miller
Bread for the Journey by Henri Nouwen
Teaching a Stone to Talk by Annie Dillard
The Glass Castle by Jeanette Walls

And then there is Space for God by Don Postema. I am so glad our church has a Saturday morning small group walking through the book together. They will be changed. I cannot review this book adequately, at least not today. The best I can do is to let Don Postema speak for himself by sharing a brief quotation from each of the first four chapters:

Making Space

If we are to live with any authenticity, we must join those “saints and poets” who grasp life at depth. To live so deeply is a special challenge, for it is so easy to be superficial. We are so busy….

Perhaps we need to flop into a chair more often—before we are exhausted. We need more leisure time to touch those inner dimensions of our lives, to ask some fundamental questions, or just to be.

I Belong

Most of us know that feeling of being alone, isolated. It’s not the same as choosing to be alone once in a while, or being independent at times. It’s the feeling that no one is near, that no one remembers….

Even when events and people say, “You don’t belong,” God’s gentle voices reassures us: “You do belong—to me.” Knowing that [we belong to God] does not solve all our problems, but it can give us a perspective on loneliness. It can help us understand that we do not have to be greedy for attention as a solution to loneliness, we do not have to cling to people for our identity. We get our identity from God.

Gratitude Takes Nothing For Granted

Greed grabs. Gratitude receives….

Gratitude takes nothing for granted. When you are truly grateful, you recognize not only the dinner someone prepared as a gift, but also become aware of the person who prepared it. You are cognizant of the concern it took for someone to call, to send a card, to give a compliment. You are aware of the love involved in a routine offer to do the dishes, fix a leaky faucet, take out the garbage. You may get a glimpse at the wonder of friends and family….

Gratitude is the appropriate response to belonging.

Gestures of Gratitude

Gratitude recognizes that a gift has been given, a favor has been done by someone. There is a gift and a giver. But there is more. Gratitude also calls for a response to that gift. We thank the giver with an expression of appreciation—a handshake, a hug, a note. A gesture of gratitude completes the exchange, closes the circle, lets the love flow back to the giver…..

Actually, the exchange is more like a spiral than a circle—a spiral in which the giver gets thanked and so becomes the receiver, and the joy of giving and receiving rises higher and higher.

Your life is a sacred journey

Reading this was a blessing to me...
It was one of those things you sometimes come across, that, almost immediately, rings true.

Blessings to you and all those who love you.

Peace Love & Coffee,
Randy

Your life is a sacred journey
And it is about change, growth, discovery, movement, transformation, continuously expanding your vision of what is possible, stretching your soul, learning to see clearly & deeply, listening to your intuition, taking courageous risks, embracing challenges at every step along the way.
You are on the path
exactly where you need to be right now...
And from here, you can only go forward, shaping your life story into a magnificent tale of triumph, of healing, of courage, beauty, wisdom, power, dignity & love.

-Caroline Joy Adams

Dancing with Joy

I will begin what I know will feel like a "short" three-day retreat tomorrow morning after driving the kids to school and dragging the garbage and recycling out the curb. If you know me at all, you probably can understand how it is often a temptation for me to take along more than I could ever read, to take along a dozen books when it would be more profitable to focus on one. Or to focus just on a page or two. So this time I've been striving to be minimalistic in my planning. And I'm taking along just one book, a compilation of 99 poems edited by Roger Housden, Dancing with Joy. Just one, thin book. Quite something for me.

Along with the book, just these supplies: a journal with plenty of blank pages, two fountain pens, a one-page printout of John 3:14-21 in two versions, and a photocopy of one of my favorite, joyful poems (which isn't in the book)--Naomi Shihab Nye's poem "So Much Happiness."

So Much Happiness
for Michael

It is difficult to know what to do with so much happiness.
With sadness there is something to rub against,
a wound to tend with lotion and cloth.
When the world falls in around you, you have pieces to pick up,
something to hold in your hands, like ticket stubs or change.

But happiness floats.
It doesn't need you to hold it down.
It doesn't need anything.
Happiness lands on the roof of the next house, singing,
and disappears when it wants to.
Even the fact that you once lived in a peaceful tree house
and now live over a quarry of noise and dust
cannot make you unhappy.
Everything has a life of its own,
it too could wake up filled with possibilities
of coffee cake and ripe peaches,
and love even the floor which needs to be swept,
the soiled linens and scratched records...

Since there is no place large enough
to contain so much happiness,
you shrug, you raise your hands, and it flows out of you
into everything you touch. You are not responsible.
You take no credit, as the night sky takes no credit
for the moon, but continues to hold it, and share it,
and in that way, be known.

From Words Under the Words: Selected Poems. Naomi Shihab Nye. Far Corner Books, 1995.

Maybe I'll just leave the book at home and take the poem and the scripture and the blank notebook, and see what might flow out of my pen. Or maybe I'll just spend three days thinking about the night sky and the moon, and about being truly known... and loved.

Peace Love & Coffee,
Randy