Thanksgiving for Fruitful Vines

Photo by Trista Wynne

Good evening, Beloved ~

On my heart tonight are the thickets of blackberries just behind our apartments.  Out of all of the wonderful smells we encounter in Your creation, the smell of ripening blackberries is one of my favorites.  Even our kitties enjoy the sweet scent!  I don't fully understand why the vines must be covered in such rigid prickles, however, when I reach in to help myself to this delicious fruit.

I wish they were more like the strawberry bushes with smooth, thin strands.  But perhaps then they would not be strong enough to hold such large, juicy fruit.  But what purpose do the thorns serve?

My mind wanders back to our church home up north, where lots of blackberry brambles covered the grounds. Every spring, the wild rabbits would use these thickets as a hiding place in which to build their burrows and bear their young.  The thorns serve as a natural deterrent to predators, protecting the little bunnies until they were strong enough to hop about on their own.  So, even though the thorns serve no good purpose for me, perhaps some of your creatures offer thanksgiving and songs of praise for the gifts of the blackberry brier.

Wild Waves & Soothing Sands: Trysting with Beloved at the Coast

Written at the beach during my discernment retreat, the following excerpt from my journal and photos reflect  my deep experiences with Beloved...

"Crashing Wave Untamed" - Photo by Trista Wynne

Beloved,

Thank You for meeting me at the beach this afternoon!  Thank You for this secluded spot -- a little nesting area for You and me to share.  Thank You for the sound of the ocean, the rhythm of the waves, the cleansing and peace that comes from being so close to the edge of unharnessed waters.

Oh, what a tryst we had!  You are indeed my First Love!  I long for you unceasingly.  When I get a little taste, all I can think of is when I can next receive the falernum nobele, the very best of wines, from Your navel again.  

Your left arm rests under my head; Your right arm encircles me once more.

Fire, Ashes, Prayer & Healing on Ash Wednesday

Today I had a different experience with the imposition of ashes than I have for several years.  The words spoken with the ashes were not of mortality and returning to the earth.  Instead, as the sign of the cross was drawn upon me, these words were spoken:  "Hear the Gospel and believe."

Photo by Trista Wynne

The Gospel -- the Good News, dear ones, is that we will not be separated for long by the chasm of death.  We will all be together once more on account of the birth, life, death and resurrection of our Beloved, the Christ.  The Good News, dear ones, is that the whole world, which now aches and groans in pain and brokenness, will be filled with peace, love, new life and wholeness.  There will be no more death, no more tears, no more suffering, no more pain.  Each person will live in comfort and no one shall make anyone afraid, for all needs everywhere will be satisfied.

This evening, during our Ash Wednesday service, we received small pieces of paper at the door when we entered the sanctuary.  After a reading from Isaiah and the pastoral meditation, we wrote down our transgressions, our fears, our strife, our pain, our laments and our hopes, our dreams and joys.  As we gathered to receive communion, we laid our written burdens down in a bowl at the base of the cross.  With empty hands now, we received the bread and wine with which we remember our Beloved Christ, then we received the imposition of the ashes upon our foreheads.

Returning to our seats for a time of reflective prayer and penitence, we prayed for one another, for ourselves, and for God's creation.  We offered our confessions and prayed for healing from all sin.  The papers which we had brought to the front were soaked in oil and were then lit on fire.  

Photo by Trista Wynne - @ Murrayhills Christian Church

A great and glorious flame consumed our fears, our sin, our hopes and all which we had confessed.  That burning bowl of confessions put off quite a bit of heat as we prayed!

Photo by Trista Wynne - @ Murrayhills Christian Church

Growing in the Light

Hello, Beloved.

My heart is much more at peace this evening than it was just a couple of days ago.  You have granted a good sliver of sunshine both days, and I was able to get out and walk without a sweatshirt for three days in a row, at least for a while.  I look forward to having several days in a row where I won't even think about putting on a sweatshirt or sweater.  Perhaps those days are not so very far away.

Summertime Serenity

Beloved,

As I delight in the freedom that comes from accomplishing all that needed to be done before the end of the term, I also bask in the light of the sunshine. Thank You, dear Lord, for this vibrantly beautiful day! Thank you for the stretching kitties basking in the light. Thank You for the fluttering sparrows and burrowing bunnies that my neighbor and I saw on our walk today.

Poured out for All: Mary’s Gift and Steadfast Devotion

Beloved,

As I smooth a sweet smelling lotion over my dry, cracked hands, I consider Mary of Bethany and her tender gift of adoration, compassion and grief.  On account of her outpouring, the whole room was filled with a fragrant perfume.  It must have clung to everyone who was present!  Like the cedar smoke of a campfire lingers on our skin, clothes and hair, this heady perfume must have remained with everyone in Your presence for days.

"Rising Smoke" - Photo by Trista Wynne

How long were You scented with Mary’s oil, Beloved?  Did it linger on You as You traveled?  Did the smell turn heads as You walked past?  What would they have been thinking?

Was the scent still with You in the upper room as You gathered with the disciples and their families?  Did any of the children ask about it?  Did they breathe You in as You laid Yourhands on them in blessing?

Perhaps the aroma of Mary’s anointing was waning as You entered the garden.  Or perhaps, in Your deepest anguish, as blood sweat and tears mingled, her simple gift drifted up to comfort You.

Oh Beloved, if only Mary had been with You in the garden!  She would have held You while You shook.  She would have let Your tears fall into her hands instead of onto the cold, hard ground of the olive grove. 

But maybe her gift was enough.  Maybe it gave You the courage to finish what You knew was Yours to accomplish.  Maybe she was there in her own way.

A simple gift, an extravagant gift, this wasteful, wondrous, gift of devotion and service was poured out for You.  And then, You, in turn, were poured out for us all.  Mary of Bethany will always be remembered, as will You.  The gift was a beautiful thing indeed.