Saturday, July 30, 2011

And now some silence

Dearly Beloved,

Grace and peace to you.


I'm going to be off for a couple of weeks. I'll resume in mid-August. Meanwhile, Unfolding Light will be all silence. After all, silence is God's native tongue.

In fact it's yours, too. You've just forgotten it. We all come from a land of silence and early on are taught speaking as a second language. If we sit in silence long enough we begin to hear what was spoken in us in the beginning.

We often listen for angels but complain that we never hear them—not knowing that actually we hear them fine, we just don't understand them, since the language they sing in is silence.

But listen. They're singing even now.




Deep Blessings,

Pastor Steve

Friday, July 29, 2011

Blessing

Dearly Beloved,

Grace and Peace to you.
         
         

Jacob was left alone; and a man wrestled with him until daybreak. When the man saw that he did not prevail against Jacob, he struck him on the hip socket; and Jacob's hip was put out of joint as he wrestled with him. Then he said, "Let me go, for the day is breaking." But Jacob said, "I will not let you go, unless you bless me." So he said to him, "What is your name?" And he said, "Jacob." Then the man said, "You shall no longer be called Jacob, but Israel, for you have striven with God and with humans, and have prevailed."

         —Genesis 32.24-28

We trust a dark God
who seizes us in lonely places,
who comes to us in travail
who births us only in great labor.
There is no struggle in which
blessing is not enfolded in the mystery.
There is no tribulation in which
God is not reworking the clay.

Therefore the prayer of the faithful
is not that my life be easy,
but always and only this:
“I will not let you go until you bless me.”

Your own poor choices
renounce the moment you see.
But of the struggles life thrusts upon you
do not let go
until you get from them a blessing,
and become a new person with a new name.
         
         
Deep Blessings,
Pastor Steve

__________________
Copyright © Steve Garnaas-Holmes
Unfolding Light
www.unfoldinglight.net

Thursday, July 28, 2011

Israel

Dearly Beloved,

Grace and Peace to you.
         
         

Jacob was left alone; and a man wrestled with him until daybreak. When the man saw that he did not prevail against Jacob, he struck him on the hip socket; and Jacob's hip was put out of joint as he wrestled with him. Then he said, "Let me go, for the day is breaking." But Jacob said, "I will not let you go, unless you bless me." So he said to him, "What is your name?" And he said, "Jacob." Then the man said, "You shall no longer be called Jacob, but Israel, for you have striven with God and with humans, and have prevailed."

         —Genesis 32.24-28

I find it significant that the nation who worshiped Yahweh did not name themselves after Abraham, the father of us all, or Moses the great liberator, or David, the great king. They took the name Israel, Jacob's new name that means “God-wrestler.” We are distinguished not by our superior faith or our unique land or even our particular history. We are distinguished as the people who wrestle with God.

We argue, we doubt, we cry out when God seems unjust or inattentive, we make impetuous demands, we bargain, and sometimes when God jumps us we even just plain fight back. (In the Bible, just thinking about God doesn't count as theology: you have to get down and dirty and actually wrestle with God.)

God is no “unmoved mover.” God is a wrestling partner, one who challenges us, draws us into serious and sometimes even desperate struggle, a God who engages us. Moses and the prophets often bargained with God, disagreed, complained, criticized, and called God names. God seems to have loved it. God is the one who jumps into our darkness when we are left alone and says, “Bring it on.”

But God is not our enemy. God's challenge is not to destroy us, diminish us or take away our power. It's to get us going, like a sparring partner who gets a boxer to fight better. It's to trick us into wrapping our arms around life, and laying our hands on God.

I don't mean that God does mean things to us. It's that in all of our struggles it's really God we're wrestling with. No matter what our struggles, our deepest anxiety is about our identity, our Source, our meaning, our future, our worth... which means we're really wrestling with the One from whom those things come. This is good news, because as much as it may appear that the difficulties of our lives are our enemies, at their heart is a God who is our ally and deepest friend and companion.

God comes to us in dark, lonely places, in struggles and mystery. So grapple vigorously with this life and its Creator. Trust the grace that lurks in the night. You'll be surprised how often God lets us win.


         
         
Deep Blessings,
Pastor Steve

__________________
Copyright © Steve Garnaas-Holmes
Unfolding Light
www.unfoldinglight.net

5000

Dearly Beloved,

Grace and Peace to you.
         
         
Taking the five loaves and the two fish, he looked up to heaven, and blessed and broke the loaves, and gave them to the disciples, and the disciples gave them to the crowds. And all ate and were filled; and they took up what was left over of the broken pieces, twelve baskets full.
         —Matthew 14.19-20

Alone and struggling, I came to hear him. I stood in front and took it in. I heard a word of grace. I gave him my heart as he spoke.

I saw him break some bread, bless it and give it in baskets to his helpers. They gave me some. It tasted like freedom.

And then a hush fell, the others silent. I didn't see why, couldn't imagine why: I wanted to sing and shout, to praise loudly, to tell my story: there in the bread, my whole life poured into the bread, my whole life rose before me, like bread rising, full and very special, touched by God. Why not sing a song?

Only when I turned around did I see why the spreading hush, the awed silence, as the gift was passed from hand to hand: his helpers kept going among the people, bearing baskets of bread, giving it away. The bread did not end. He did not just feed me. He fed everybody. All of them. Here was a miracle: not me, but 5000. I was not alone. We were as one. A community, drawn together as if we were one body, one loaf of bread. The miracle was not the bread but the sharing, not that he made bread, but that he made a community, not that he gave me a gift, but that he gave the same gift to others, that he drew my “I” into a “we. I was saved, not by being made special, but by being included.

I imagine the miracle happens again and again, not by making bread appear, but by making it disappear, into the hands of the hungry.

I wonder what it was like to be one of those people helping him, following him, carrying those baskets out into the crowd, seeing the miracle in the unending bread, among the people. I think I could spend my life doing that.

         
         
Deep Blessings,
Pastor Steve

__________________
Copyright © Steve Garnaas-Holmes
Unfolding Light
www.unfoldinglight.net

Tuesday, July 26, 2011

Miracle

Dearly Beloved,

Grace and Peace to you.
         
         
You think it is an ordinary day,
dull even, the weariness familiar.

But then he reaches into that moment,
the ordinariness of it, so small,

five rolls and two sardines, whatever
you happen to have along,

takes away your little sack of inadequacy,
your confidence of your unworthiness,

whatever you cling to, your sustenance,
your tiny hoard, your lunch for one,

blesses it, calls it divine, and a gift,
as if what is of earth is enough,

breaks it up so that you could not possibly
have it or live with it it again,

and gives it away, all of it, no longer yours
but God's, whose hands are a hungry world,

and you can't limit the way it multiplies,
the people it feeds, the wonder it becomes,

as if all long he has known that it was not slight
but hiding a miracle, bearing unseen abundance.

It is not the bread that is transformed
but the little hard roll of your trust,

the two little fish of your thinking
that you've seen the bottom of it,

your sureness that miracles come from nowhere
and not from right where you are.

         
         
Deep Blessings,
Pastor Steve

__________________
Copyright © Steve Garnaas-Holmes
Unfolding Light
www.unfoldinglight.net

Monday, July 25, 2011

Beginning the day

Dearly Beloved,

Grace and Peace to you.
         
         

A glass of water.
A slow walk.
Sitting still, opening,
being present in the Presence.

This is the day the Lord is making.

Today is a day of unfolding Being,
a day to take in grace,
to open to my belovedness.

Today I will encounter many things,
feel many things,
and You will be with me in it all.

Today I will meet none but the blessed of God,
none but those who seek grace,
none but myself in other clothes.
I will love them;
You will love them through me;
I will love them as myself.

I make no demands of this day.
I trust you who accompany me.
I open the eyes of my heart.

I ask only that the infinite loving kindness of God
may flow through me this day
into all Creation.

I am breathing.
I am beloved.
You are here.
I am breathing.
I am.


         
         
Deep Blessings,
Pastor Steve

__________________
Copyright © Steve Garnaas-Holmes
Unfolding Light
www.unfoldinglight.net

Friday, July 22, 2011

Heat

Dearly Beloved,

Grace and Peace to you.
         
         
Once upon a time, when people were young and innocent and thought they could tell God what to do, they said, “God, you are too distant! Come near. We want to continually feel your warmth and see your glory.” So God drew very near, and indeed they were warm. But God, being the Source of all warmth, was too much for them. They sweltered. Cities sagged under the weight of the heat. Meadows buzzed, where nothing else could happen but being hot. Lampposts, steering wheels and tempers were hot to the touch. Only the hermits in the desert understood, and went on praying. The people cried out, “It is too hot! Go back! Stand farther off!”

But God said, “You have asked for what you did not want, and you do not want what I have give you. Now you ask me to draw back. But I will not go away from you. I never have. Nevertheless I will protect you from the glory of my presence. I will make you safe. I will not let it ever get too hot or too cold. I will keep you from seeing the whole spectrum of light, or hearing all the frequencies of sound. I will keep you from seeing things very very small, or very very far away, or very very near. I will usher you away from the heights of the mountains or the depths of the oceans, and as well the heights and depths of your heart. I will prevent you from knowing what you can't measure or prove or understand. I will confine you to the prison of what you like and recognize. I will shield you from the overwhelming presence of my glory: you will only see hints and suggestions. As punishment for telling me to go far away, I will make you feel like I have obeyed your command. Everything will always seem very moderate to you, not too extreme in any way, never too hot or bright or lovely or wondrous or glorious or dark.

“As a result of my punishment, without your knowing it, there will be a part of you that always wants more, always seeks me, which indeed is all I want. And to show you that there is so much more than you are ready to receive, and to remind you that I am more present than you believe, every once in a while I will let you actually see the smallest fringe of my glory and presence: a thing of beauty, an experience of heart-rending love, a time of unimaginable darkness, or perhaps simply a very, very hot day. You must be ready, for it won't last long. And many will not understand, and raise the old complaint.  But you will know.”

And it was so.

         
         
Deep Blessings,
Pastor Steve

__________________
Copyright © Steve Garnaas-Holmes
Unfolding Light
www.unfoldinglight.net

Thursday, July 21, 2011

I will whisper

Dearly Beloved,

Grace and Peace to you.
         
         

I will whisper in your ear.

         •
A voice of clear silence,
the breath the world came from.

         •
A small boat in a light breeze
slips along the water.

         •
More sun pours into the meadow
than it knows what to do with.

         •
A figure vanishes into the crowd
but is not lost.
What if I am all of them?

         •
The moments that have passed between us
do not disappear. I hold them
in my hand, ripening.

         •
I have this blessing that expands
to fill the universe.
What can I do with it?
I hide it inside you from behind.

         •
I touch you in places
not of your knowing,
a hand on your heart,
only deeper.

         •
I never speak.

         •

         •
Hours after the rain,
the trees are still weeping.


         
         
Deep Blessings,
Pastor Steve

__________________
Copyright © Steve Garnaas-Holmes
Unfolding Light
www.unfoldinglight.net

Wednesday, July 20, 2011

The Spirit intercedes

Dearly Beloved,

Grace and Peace to you.
         
         

You who pray, take heart.
You don't have to heave your prayer
over a wall of difference, an abyss
of distance between you and the Holy One.
Your prayer need not be enlarged to be noticed
or translated to be understood
or embellished to be worthy.

The God at the far reaches of the universe
is also within. The Holy Indwelling Presence
will never fail you or abandon you.

We do not know how to pray as we ought,
but the Spirit intercedes for us
with sighs to deep for words.

We do not pray to God: God prays in us.
We merely hold the space.

We do not know how to give as we ought
but the Spirit gives in us gifts too deep for words.
We do not know how to forgive,
but the Spirit intercedes with surrenderings.
We do not know how to grieve,
but the Spirit cries in us with tears too deep for words.
We do not know how to wonder, to lament, to bless,
to trust, to heal, to dare, to thank.
But the Spirit intercedes.

We do not know how to live as we ought,
but the Spirit intercedes for us
with lives too deep for words.

To every day, to every moment,
to each breath and every heartbeat we say,
Amen.


         
         
Deep Blessings,
Pastor Steve

__________________
Copyright © Steve Garnaas-Holmes
Unfolding Light
www.unfoldinglight.net

Tuesday, July 19, 2011

The feast within

Dearly Beloved,

Grace and Peace to you.



"The realm of heaven is like a mustard seed that someone took and sowed in a field... The Realm of of heaven is like yeast that a woman took and mixed in with three measures of flour until all of it was leavened.... The realm of heaven is like treasure hidden in a field... The realm of heaven is like a net that was thrown into the sea and caught fish of every kind...”
— from Matthew 13

The idea of a heaven far away and later
was invented by travel agents with tickets to sell.
Let them make their expeditions to Other Places.
Perhaps from there this land will seem exotic
and they'll find their way home with new wonder.

But Jesus has no far-off land in mind.
Do you see?— the realm of heaven is not removed
but always inside something, hidden
close at hand, underground, under water, under
your nose. Nearer than your thinking.
Heaven is not up, my friends, but in.
It is the Seed of the World,
the Soul at the heart of all things,
the source from which all things emanate.
The realm of heaven is the heart of a cry,
the energizing dream,
the love in a love song.
The Holy One is the Center of All Things,
and we radiate from her like light,
like laughter, like the smell of a rose.

This mustard seed vibrating with delight
becomes the million million things you see
and when you reach to the center,
the love at the heart of each moment,
the soul of the person before you,
you are there.

You who are wandering
on the fringes of the royal estate,
who stand out in the outer darkness
and see the feast within, look:
the door is open.



Deep Blessings,
Pastor Steve

__________________
Copyright © Steve Garnaas-Holmes
Unfolding Light
www.unfoldinglight.net

Monday, July 18, 2011

A postcard from God

Beloved,

I'm enjoying my travels. Sunrise this morning: pink and purple low over the city. I saw it & thought of you. I think of you a lot. In fact no matter where I am I'm thinking of you. You know how you wish you could be in two places at once? Well, there you were, right with me. Pink and purple in the new light. Kind of cool how that works. Next we're going on a long bike ride. Hope you like it.

Look around.

Love,
God

Friday, July 15, 2011

Flesh and Spirit

Dearly Beloved,

Grace and Peace to you.


Brothers and sisters, we are debtors, not to the flesh, to live according to the flesh— for if you live according to the flesh, you will die; but if by the Spirit you put to death the deeds of the body, you will live. For all who are led by the Spirit of God are children of God.
— Romans 8.12-14

My egoic mind thinks who “I” am is defined by and limited to my individual physical existence, my body. I think I am exclusively this self that is separate and distinct from all other beings, and separate from God. But this definition of the self is a false, misleading and incomplete picture of who I am. Living according to this self-centered idea of the self, “according to the flesh,” I live a self-centered life, prone to sin. I am controlled by the fears, desires and attachments of that little self-contained life and its protection: I naturally seek security, power and esteem (what Paul calls the “deeds of the body”). I cut myself off from God and the rest of Creation, like a branch, as Jesus says, torn from a vine. I wither and die, confined my my mortality. And because my body so betrays me, I live in conflict with my own body.

But what if, as Jesus said, “I am in God and you in me and I in you”? Then who “I” am is not centered in myself, but in God. Who I am is part of God's “I AM.” I am not an individual, isolated self but an aspect of the Holy Presence, a finite manifestation of the Infinite One. So instead of falling for the natural belief that I am my body, limited to it and a slave to its needs, I can enter an alternative consciousness, and engage in a different way of living. I can live a God-centered life instead of a self-centered life. My body is not merely my own flesh but the Body of Christ. Trusting that I am prone to grace I can let God's holy yearnings within lead me. I can be led by the Spirit, God's Presence in me (even in my body). I can live, as Christ, in totally free self-giving.

In a self-centered consciousness my body is the culprit in my mortality and the root of my sin. Flesh is bad. But in a God-centered consciousness, flesh is God's good creation. My body is my connection to God, a way in which God's creating Word is in me. Flesh and Spirit are both good, both entwined with each other: that's what Creation is, the bonding of flesh and Spirit. It's what incarnation is: love made flesh. There is no conflict between them. The conflict is between seeing flesh as evil and seeing it as good, because the conflict is between being self-centered and God-centered.

Live by the Spirit, Paul counsels: let God's Spirit lead you instead of being driven by your hunger for comfort, control and approval. There is life in this. And in this life, there is joy in the body. Use your senses to behold the wonders of God. Use your hands to serve, your feet to dance, your guts to feel deeply. Your flesh is the way God's Spirit enters the world. You body is not a limit, but a starting place. Let your flesh live in Spirit, and it will be good.


Deep Blessings,
Pastor Steve

______________________
Copyright © Steve Garnaas-Holmes
Unfolding Light
www.unfoldinglight.net

Thursday, July 14, 2011

Jacob's ladder

Dearly Beloved,

Grace and Peace to you.
         
         
Taking one of the stones of the place, Jacob put it under his head and lay down in that place. And he dreamed that there was a ladder set up on the earth, the top of it reaching to heaven; and the angels of God were ascending and descending on it. And the Lord stood beside him and said... "Know that I am with you and will keep you wherever you go...." Then Jacob woke from his sleep and said, "Surely the Lord is in this place—and I did not know it!" And he was afraid, and said, "How awesome is this place! This is none other than the house of God, and this is the gate of heaven."

         — Genesis 28. 11-17


This is the cry of the soul, continually awakening, becoming more present, rising from our sleep of thinking that we know, and believing that that is enough: that God is in this place and we have not been aware, that we stand always and in every place at the gate of heaven. Notice how often the story speaks of “this place.” This is the place; now is the time. Awaken into the present moment. In this very time and place, beings infused with holiness emanate from God's creation and commune with God: angels ascend and descend. Here and now, what God has made dances with God, emerges from God and returns and becomes one with God, and like the persons of the Holy Trinity gazing with love at each other, burns with the glory of wholeness. All this is here, in this place, this moment, and we do not know it.

Thinking that we know this place, preoccupied with other things, we sleep, unaware. But our souls yearn always to awaken, to become more mindful, to enter the present moment, to be more deeply present to the Holy One who is so lovingly and faithfully present to us, who is with us and will keep us wherever we go. The spiritual life is to continually awaken into that wonder, to see the place where we are newly as if for the first time, to become more deeply mindful that the One is here, that in fact we live in the house of God, in the Presence, and to join the angels, ascending and descending upon the ladder of each holy moment.


         
         
Deep Blessings,
Pastor Steve

______________________
Copyright © Steve Garnaas-Holmes
Unfolding Light
www.unfoldinglight.net

Wednesday, July 13, 2011

Weeds

Dearly Beloved,

Grace and Peace to you.
         
         
God, thank you for the offer
to whisper to me through passing moments,
to nudge me without words continually,
to offer grace in odd places. It's kind of you.
Quaint, really, and sweet. But unnecessary.
I know what I believe (thank you
for supporting me in this) and that's all I need.
I know what's a flower and what's a weed.
I already know your Word. I've already decided
how fruitful this day is going to be,
how worthy the person I'm about to meet,
when and where I will encounter you
and when I won't.
I mostly won't.
But I've already got this moment figured out,
how you are present in it,
what ways your grace is hidden here,
how you will speak to me.
Sad to say, there's not much mystery here:
no blessing secreted in a seemingly dull
or difficult passage, no divine providence,
no Presence thinly veiled by apparent things,
no gifts in silence or suffering, no good
mixed in with evil, or grief with gratitude.
You are elsewhere, I have determined.
This moment is abstract, generic, impersonal.
This light is just physics, this bread is just bread.
Your Word is arranged, according to protocol
(thank you), and I seek it in all the right places,
grateful to know where, and where not
to bother to look.
Sunsets, yes, patriotic displays,
success stories, devotional quotes. But not—
well, you know, all that other stuff.
True, there is some mess at the edges,
some inexplicable ambiguity and overlap,
but we're cleaning that up. It's a field of weeds,
but we'll have it cleared in no time.
Anyway, thank you for your kind attention.
I'll see you Sunday morning,
9:30 to 10:30.
Amen.

___________________

Weather Report

There is no forecast today.
You're just going to have to
watch and see.

         
         
Deep Blessings,
Pastor Steve

______________________
Copyright © Steve Garnaas-Holmes
Unfolding Light
www.unfoldinglight.net

Tuesday, July 12, 2011

There are woods

Dearly Beloved,

Grace and Peace to you.
         
         
Where I lived there were woods
where I walked in contemplation
every morning and evening.
People asked when I moved,
Are there woods? Can you walk?
Yes, there are woods, deep and quiet,
where I walk in silence each day.

And if there weren't,
there is still a stand of trees nearby,
where I could sit and listen.
And if they were gone,
there would be my back yard,
and a little garden,
and if there were no yard
I could still sit in this chair
and gaze out the window
at the neighbor's trees.
And if there were no window,
no trees across the way,
if I could not walk
or gaze or see at all,

there are still these gentle woods
that stretch out forever,
deep and verdant, in my heart,
where I go every morning and evening,
and whenever I want,
in the quiet.

And so do You,
walking in the cool of the shade.
I know you're here
by your great footprints
of silence.


         
         
Deep Blessings,
Pastor Steve

______________________
Copyright © Steve Garnaas-Holmes
Unfolding Light
www.unfoldinglight.net

Monday, July 11, 2011

Sent to serve

Dearly Beloved,

Grace and Peace to you.
         
         
Yesterday was my first Sunday as pastor of my new church. I felt sort of like a foreigner, an interloper, a guest preacher. But their welcome was warm and deep, and I did not feel out of place or awkward. Just new. But even among all those strangers I was on this familiar ground: I knew I had been sent to be their pastor. So as I greeted people after worship I wondered what love will grow among us. I met each person with the thought, “This is someone whom I have been sent to serve.” The awareness of my purpose—to love and to serve—gave me a solid, familiar, reliable place to stand, even amidst to much that was new and disorienting.

Isn't that what I want for my whole life? It's easy to let people become fixtures instead of individuals as I hurry through life seeking my goals. But then I start to become a stranger in my own life. Instead, God invites me to approach every person I meet, not just these church members, with the purpose of being lovingly present. I can trust that they have a great story to tell, and to be eager to hear it. I can met everyone knowing that no matter how well I know them, I don't know everything; I don't know what's deeper, what's next. I can keep listening. I can relate to everyone as someone to be loved, as someone whom I have been sent to serve.

Let's try that today. Each person we encounter, we'll think, “Ah, yes. Here is a person I have been sent to serve.” Let's see if it makes a difference. Let me know.


___________________

Weather Report

Encounter,
as the early fog of assumptions lifts,
and each person
becomes new
before your eyes.

         
         
Deep Blessings,
Pastor Steve

______________________
Copyright © Steve Garnaas-Holmes
Unfolding Light
www.unfoldinglight.net

Friday, July 8, 2011

Unpacking

Dearly Beloved,

Grace and Peace to you.
         
         
Into cardboard boxes goes everything I own,
sheets and teacups, books and wrenches,
the things I need, the pans, those handy pliers,
and the things I cling to, letters and pictures,
and the little carved box from Vienna.

You'd learn about me, sorting through
the poetry, the musical instruments,
the photographs of kids and kin, the gifts,
the art we hang, the art we keep in case
we ever have a worthy wall.

The movers, impressively, can wrap up anything—
chairs, skis, a painting easel, a wheelbarrow—
and fit it in. It's all here, everything.
And what, insurers query, if the truck
should crash, catch fire and roll into the river?
All would be lost. A policy is wise. Sign here.
A bridge from this house to the next.

Yet, in between, in the homeless moment,
all my possessions elsewhere,
neither the boxes nor their dowry matter.
For a moment, I am free.

I stop and ask, so what?
What if the fire and river had their way
and there were no boxes, no furniture,
no plates or lamps or neckties?

There would be the other truck, of course,
driven by broad-shouldered angels, kind,
non-smokers every one, but strong as elephants.
I've never told them my address. They know.

I would settle somewhere calm and unpack
the prayers that have gone with me,
the blessings securely wrapped and tucked
into the suitcase of my heart,
the love I've dragged from home to home
and never once have lost.

I would unwrap and set upon the mantle of my mind
the bond, these decades old, I've kept with friends.
And here—oh look! I'd almost forgotten!—
the mystery of my divine belovedness.
I'd uncrate the gift of this very morning—
it's raining now—
and set it out and gaze upon it lovingly.

Be done with cardboard, soul, sell everything.
The dearest things are those you don't possess.

In the empty house of this moment
sit boxes you never filled, have never seen.
They're yours.
Go ahead, now, and unpack.



         
         
Deep Blessings,
Pastor Steve

______________________
Copyright © Steve Garnaas-Holmes
Unfolding Light
www.unfoldinglight.net

Thursday, July 7, 2011

Prayer in a time of change

Dearly Beloved,

Grace and Peace to you.
         
         
This is the day the Lord is making;
God is not finished creating it yet.
Let us rejoice and be glad.

God of Creation, God of new beginnings,
we open our hearts to you in this new day.
In all that is new and different
we look for your creating hand,
and wonder at your Creation still unfolding.
In all that is not as we are accustomed to
we confess our desire to control,
acknowledge our powerlessness,
and turn to you as our only Lord and Creator.
Bless our grief, and turn our hearts to your loving care.
In all that is unfamiliar remind us
to pay attention; to see what is,
not merely what we remember;
to see as if for the first time.
In our uncertainty, return us
to the certainty of who we are,
and to your sure and unfailing presence with us.
In all that is unknown, unwrap us
from the grave cloths of our expectations;
help us to be lovingly present to what is,
free from having to know,
free from needing to be comfortable,
poised to behold and to love without fear.
God of Creation, in this new day
we let go of all that we cling to,
and return to your Holy Presence
in this moment.
Help us to die and rise with Christ,
to become new people,
born not of our own will or knowledge,
but born anew of your Spirit, your delight,
your Moment.

This is the day the Lord is creating.
Let us rejoice and be glad.
         
         
Deep Blessings,
Pastor Steve

______________________
Copyright © Steve Garnaas-Holmes
Unfolding Light
www.unfoldinglight.net

Wednesday, July 6, 2011

Sunrise

Dearly Beloved,

Grace and Peace to you.
         
         
Great Sun,
you climb up over the rim of the world
to see me, smiling. You greet me
with your wide hands.
The whole sky exults.

The day expands.
Anything could happen.
A gate swings wide within me.

All day long you follow me,
your hand on my shoulder.
Reaching long a brick wall,
through a window,
across the question of the sea,
without grasping you ask:
will you do this?

Free in the home of your sky,
radiate the light from within.
Shed splendor without apology.
Shine as you were meant,
and the world may go on without you,
within you, and so very with you.
Yes, do this, you say.
Let there be light.


         
         
Deep Blessings,
Pastor Steve

______________________
Copyright © Steve Garnaas-Holmes
Unfolding Light
www.unfoldinglight.net