Labyrinth at Sunset

Thank you God for most this amazing sunset!  After a lovely lunch and visit earlier today with my friend and mentor, John Kerr, I decided to walk over to the labyrinth for the sunset.  God did not disappoint.  It was a perfect evening for a walk - coolish with a slight breeze, but warm enough to be comfortable in shorts.  Not too humid.  Sky full of color.  Insects and birds singing sleepy songs.  On my way over I saw a flock of Canadian geese milling around in the grass.  When I got to the labyrinth, I walked and breathed and thought about the dance of the Trinity and how marvelous God is.  In the center I sang one of my favorite John Bell songs from the Iona community:
    Take, oh, take me as I am,
    summon out what I shall be.
    Set your seal upon my heart,
    and live in me.
Arms stretched out, palms upward, offering myself to God.  I am yours, my creator - work through me. 

Not long after I finished singing, I heard a sound and looked up to see the flock of geese flying over in their classic V formation.  One goose trailed behind, finding his way into one of the lines.  The leader honked.  I could hear the whoosh of their wings beating against the air as they flew.  I smiled up at them.

A few minutes later I noticed something dark moving across the sky over my head.  At first I thought it was a giant spider.  My memory flashed to a Piers Anthony Xanth book, read when I was a teenager, that described a spider ballooning itself across vast distances on a line of spun silk.  As I looked at it longer and rational thought set in, I realized it wasn't a spider, but it might be a leaf.  Since I was in the center of the labyrinth, I couldn't imagine where the leaf had come from.  As it descended, floating gently down, a bit of light caught it, and I saw that it was a white feather, a bit of down from one of the geese, separated from its source, fluttering down to the earth. 

One of my spiritual directors used to say that in centering prayer, when we return to our sacred word, we need to do so very gently, "floating like a feather on the breath of God."  She was quoting Hildegard of Bingen.  Tonight it looked as if the feather was floating on the breath of God until it landed on in the grass at the edge of the labyrinth. 

I felt a bit like that feather this evening as I walked, carried gently on the breath of God.  In a world that grows less and less safe, where refugees flee and police folk are shot, where it's criminal to be black and the distribution of resources is completely out of whack, where mental illness and addiction are treated as crimes to be punished not diseases to be treated, where you turn off the news to keep your heart from breaking, where there is so much that is horrible that we numb ourselves to keep from weeping - in that world there is also beauty and goodness and light.  Dynamic sunsets and caressing breezes.  Geese flying and feathers floating.  Birds and insects saying good night.  The groaning of our planet and her people continues, but for a moment there is a glimpse of something else, elusive and fleeting.

Breathe your breath into us, God.  Fill us with your peace.  Hide your children under the shadow of your wings.  Bring us all safely home.

View from the Center of the Labyrinth

Since January I have been struggling with my taxes.  Unexpectedly it appeared that I was going to owe a whole bunch of money, and I was so discouraged that I just kept putting it away.  Last week I finally saw what the problem was, but I didn't know how to fix it, and then on Saturday I figured out how to make the fix and suddenly I went from owing a whole bunch of money to getting a refund.  So much relief!  Not only do I not have to scramble to scrape together a whole bunch of money I don't have, but now I should be able to do some things I thought I wouldn't be able to do.  So my spirits were high today when I clicked "File" on the TurboTax program.  Done!

Until I received a message saying that someone had already filed under my social security number.  And then began a discouraging process of trying to figure out what you do when this happens.  What you can't do is find a phone number to call.  The IRS says to call the police.  The police say to call the IRS.  TurboTax has an automated attendant that tells you your taxes have been filed and you should have received your refund.  Sigh...  Not how I had wanted to spend a rare 70 degree day off. 

After I had downloaded forms and completed the police report and realized that it had gotten too late to speak to human beings on the phone even if I could find a number to call, I decided to get a walk in.  I hadn't walked the labyrinth yet this week, so I headed that way.  A good thing, too, because God was showing off.

When I got to the center, I turned to face each of the four directions and this is what I saw:

South

 

West

North

East

 

 

 

 

 

 Yay, God!  Just being out there in the open air with the beauty of the clouds and the sky and the setting sun brought me peace and reminded me that this too shall pass.  The tax thing is a pain, but I will get through it.  As I got ready to leave the center and wind my way back out of the labyrinth, I got in my head and started thinking, "What do I want to get out of the rest of this walk?"  And what came to me was, "Lauren, would you just be with me?"  I smiled.  Yes, God, of course.  What could be better than spending time with God?  The rest of the walk as I turned and turned and turned again, I simply felt close to God - not in an ecstatic way, but in a simple, comforting, gentle embrace. 

And then, as I was making my way back home, I turned my head to look down a side road and saw this:

Grand finale

God sure can make some pretty art!  In the words of Julian of Norwich, All shall be well, and all shall be well, and all manner of things shall be well.  Even identity theft.  Because really, no one can steal my identity.  I'm God's beloved child.  It doesn't get any better than that!

Sabbath Sunset

Today in spiritual direction we talked about Sabbath and what it is for me.  I smiled sheepishly because this is a topic I often discuss with others, encouraging them to observe Sabbath.  But I'm not always so good about observing Sabbath in my own life.  I do have a day off from my jobs every week, and I'm good about taking it about 98% of the time.  But that day often gets packed full of errands and appointments and to-do lists.  My spiritual director suggested that Sabbath time might include a variety of activities as long as they are things that I want to do.  Then he asked, "What restores you?"  A few things came to mind quickly - reading fiction, spending time outside in nature, listening to music, movies, rest.  I try to take time for some of these things each week, but the trick for me is not to feel guilty about all the things that aren't getting done while I'm doing the things that restore me.  I can never be reminded enough to be gentle with myself.

When I got home I decided to take a walk.  Of late my walks have been mostly about exercise, trying to get steps and get them quickly.  But tonight I didn't set the Nike app to tell me how fast and how far I walked.  I just put on my headphones and headed out to enjoy being outside.  As I walked past the rec center and up the hill through the trees, I noticed a golden light illuminating the beech leaves that are still clinging to branches in their various shades of yellow and brown.  I suspected the sunset might be a good one.  Coming out of the trees, I saw the clouds all pink and gold above me, and I quickly walked up the hill that is across from Eastern State Hospital.  I stopped to let the walkers behind me go by, and I stepped off the path so that I could gaze at the brilliant sky.

I decided to sit down on a small hill and just watch.  As I sat down I remembered how I used to walk by the river three blocks from my house in Norfolk and watch the sunset.  I did it every night that I was home and the weather was good.  I didn't realize how much I have missed watching sunsets.  "This," I thought.  "This is what restores me."  Watching God's glorious artwork.  I never tire of watching them.  As much as I love living in Williamsburg, there are not many good places for watching sunsets.  I'm so glad that I happened upon a place where I could get a good view. 

At first I didn't take any pictures.  I told myself that we've become obsessed with with trying to capture moments on film rather than just being present to them.  So for awhile I simply sat on the ground under the trees and watched. And then I took some pictures, not because I wanted to capture the moment, but because I wanted to share it.  Walkers and joggers passed by, and they smiled, but they didn't turn their heads to look at the beauty around them.  Maybe they could see it anyway.  I hope so.  But I was there.  And I saw.  .  I was reminded of what restores my soul.  That is what Sabbath is.  Taking time to sit still and enjoy the sunset and say, "Wow, God.  Thank you."  Later as I continued my walk, the wind that had blown all day seemed particularly intense, and I remembered my spiritual director's final question to me, "Where is God in all of this?"

Here.  Right here with me.  In the wind, in the sunset, in the walking.  I had a blessed evening walking and being close with God.  I pray that those in Ferguson may feel God's presence, too, though their evening has been quite different from mine and it will take much more than a sunset to restore their souls.