Release into Beloved's Arms: A Body Prayer

"Shibashi: Gazing at the Moon"
Photo by Matthew Wynne

Sometimes, dear ones, I get all tangled up in knots, and it is difficult to connect with God.  Wondering what the future holds, furrowing my brow at things from the past, feeling lost and tumultuous in the present -- these things all change my body's posture.  With muscles tense and heart shut tight, I dig my heels into the ground, preparing to wrestle with Spirit.  In moments like this, I cannot love the Lord with all my heart, soul, mind and strength nor can I love others as myself.  Love, like all emotion, is all bound in the knots within.

In times like these, I speak to my body.  I find it extremely helpful to connect mind, body and spirit together in preparation for the Presence of Beloved.  In one of these times I recorded this meditation poem, a body prayer, in my journal.  May it wash over us and transform our posture so that the Beloved's presence might be made known.

Navigating the Waters

Beloved,

I've had some rough days as of late, several that I have struggled to write about in my private journal, let alone to distill and record here on this prayer blog.  My spirit and my body have been tied up in knots.  You and I have been striving, it seems.  And I have been loosing my perspective on the world, getting caught up in the stormy seas of the newscasts, the dark stories from friends and relatives, the hardships faced by many whom I deeply care for, and now have received some difficult-to-digest words.  Trying to write about it all makes me tired.  I am very tired...

My nanny family is down to one income.  They are hoping to return to two soon, but as a courtesy to me, they have let me know that I may need to begin seeking other options, just in case.  With my husband already without a steady source of income, (though You have certainly provided through odd jobs and caring for family members in these last few months) this news makes us very nervous indeed.

I confess, Beloved, that You have always provided for me and for us.  I also confess, Beloved, that I still struggle to trust that Your provision will continue.  It has very little to do with you, and very much to do with the unpredictability of the people and the world around me.  I have experienced rough waters along the river of life and have learned that many people are not trustworthy, and so, this dis-trust enters into my relationship with You, not because You have shown Yourself to be untrustworthy, but because I have a defense mechanism up (that You know very well) and I want to protect my spirit from the harm of disappointment...

Beloved, thank You for understanding.  Thank You for comforting me through the snuggles and purrs of my kitties this evening.  Thank You for my beloved husband holding my hand.  Thank You for holding me through his arms.  Thank You for smoothing the rough waters.

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

The Calling of Your Light

Beloved ~

The sun is shining brightly today, something it hasn't done in months.  Week after week, the dark clouds have hovered, threatening rain, reflecting the heaviness and teariness within me.  Today, though the clouds have parted; gentle breezes have carried them away, perhaps to some weary land desperately in need of moisture and shade.

Although the clouds have parted, my weariness remains...

Photo by Trista Wynne

A branch blocks the light, keeping our bedroom from being filled with the sunshine.  I'm tempted to run outside with a hacksaw or to break it off by hand.

My soul needs the light.  My eyes need the light.  My body, my heart, my mind need Your Light.

The light remains outside.  The sunshine's rays are filtered by the tree branches, only partially reaching my eyes.  And yet, even in this half-light, I am being comforted.  I find a smile beginning to tug at the corners of my mouth and my lungs filling a little deeper with Your Spirit.

Sitting on the Shore: Preparing for Retreat Time

"Sitting in the Sand" - Photo by Trista Wynne

This weekend I will be heading to the beach for a personal retreat: just me, the waves, a little cottage and my God.  The labels give you an idea of what the last few months have been like as I've donned the cap and gown of seminary studies, (wrapping up the final quarter this summer -- halfway through today) pondered the last ten years, (I've been married for a decade now) thought about whether or not to move back near or into our childhood town, been wrestling with a change of direction in my calling, figuring out how best to support aging parents, and pondering a whole host of other topics.  Wondering what is in store for, I simply record a little prayer before returning to my packing.  I wonder what this weekend will reveal...


Beloved,

It's been a little while since I've felt your presence in a palpable way.  I see glimpses of You in the faces and actions of the dear ones at my internship site, and Your love and grace are evident in this place.  And yet, it seems that You and I have been separated for a time.

Questions and chaos about the present and future seem to swirl around me.  Have I gone into hiding on account of the storm?  Are You in the midst of it?  Have You  been listening?  Have I been talking to You?  Have I been listening?

The winds and debris are swirling so wildly.  Questions of "helpful" people wanting me to land on a direction pummel me like tsunami waves.  I have enough doubts to make Your Thomas look like one who never questioned.

Searching for You outside the Church Walls

Ah, Lord,

You know my heart!  I just want to find a community that lives out Your love and proclaims freedom and peace.  After the church visit that I have recently had, my heart is saddened, but still, I continue to search for you.  Surely it shouldn't be this hard to find unharnessed love!

Why should I have to look any farther than the church that claims to be following You, Lord Jesus?  Why must I look beyond the people who claim to know You in order to find justice, peace and steadfast love?  I just don't understand.  I wish I could take people at their word, and that the one who claims to be a Christian would walk in Your way: loving You with their whole being, and loving their neighbors (with a wide definition!) as much as they love themselves.

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.

What do You Have in Your Hands?

The question posed by the pastor at Westminster Chapel this morning echoes through my heart.  What do we have in our hands, bodies, minds, spirits, talents and being that the Lord desires to use?  What are the limitations we impose upon ourselves?  God has gifted us with a vast array of talents and personality traits.  All of them can be used for God’s glory.  How do our perceived limitations get in the way?  Maybe we have much more to offer than we believe.  What would the Lord like to do in, with and through us?

"Working Hands" - Photo by Matthew Wynne

I wonder about these things as I prepare to lay my head against the pillow this evening.  Just a few short hours ago we found ourselves in the Fremont Abbey with the Church of the Apostles.  The speaker there reflected on Jesus’ assertions from the gospel of John. “I am the good shepherd.”  “I am the door.”  These images all give us clues as to what our Lord is like.

The Gift of Light: A Simple Poem of Thanks for Sun, Song & Sharing

Beloved,

The sweet sunshine settles along the horizon
another day is at an end,
I enter Your chamber to thank You
 
You bless us with the gift of life, my Love
and the sensuous joy of light
our hearts are lifted in gratitude for all
 
Drumming and dancing, our bodies rejoice
sun on our faces and birds all around,
our spirits are filled with delight
 
A contented purr resounds
as the windows are flung open wide
the kitties delightedly stretch and mew
 
A gentle caress from the cherry blossom
the sensuous aroma of the wild flower
sweet perfumes of incense grace the afternoon

The brush in my hand strokes the canvas
divine delicacies dance on our tongues
we happily doze in the warmth of Your light

"Blossoming Joy" - Photo by Trista Wynne

Thank You, Beloved, for the light of this day and the music we made together!

May our eyes be opened to whatever You desire to show us. 
May our minds be prepared for all that You want to reveal. 
May our hearts and spirits pursue You above all else. 
And may our bodies be vessels of Your love. 
In Jesus’ name, amen.