It’s been a chaotic week for me, not so much in my life’s activities, but in my mind and in my spirit. I have been craving calm, a respite from what I sometimes call my “mental hyperventilating.” These posts by fellow RevGals offered an oasis of serenity for me, and I hope for you as well.
Nikki Macdonald paints a vivid picture of the beach near her home in her post “Of Estuaries and Oceans.” The discordant symphony of bird calls marks the fierceness at the edge of the sea, while the deep rhythms of the tide call forth a deeper sense of connection. “This is not a beach where waves come crashing in; open sea is further out and here, although the Forth is broad, the tidal ebb and flow moves in a more kindly manner.”
“And you—what of your rushed and useful life? Imagine setting it all down—papers, plans, appointments, everything—leaving only a note: ‘Gone to the fields to be lovely. Be back when I’m through with blooming.’” Ruth Bond quotes a poem by Lynn Unger in her post “Camas Lilies – ‘Gone to the fields to be lovely.’” This poem was a strong connection in a friendship that spanned time and geography, and now transcends even death itself.
Sally Coleman writes poetically of the path “Through Chaos” this week. We cannot, it appears, edit our way from chaos to order. We must bring our whole selves along for the journey, even (maybe especially) those parts that we might wish to leave behind. “To move out of chaos, I must embrace it… Every mistake, Every fall, Every failure, Must be included, Received… loved…”
Although Deborah Lewis’s “Deep Home” is quite different from mine, I found my breath slowing down as I read her reflection. My shoulder muscles relaxed, my hands – and my heart – opened to the gift of where-I’m-from. “I am from slanted afternoon sunlight across the cornfield, streaking in beneath half-pulled-down vinyl shades in my grandmother’s kitchen; from long summer nights on the porch, listening to cicadas and wishing on stars.”
Sometimes the chaos can be pierced by a word or act of kindness that causes us to stop and smile and be grateful. “The Newspaper Fairies Nextdoor” is Katherine Doyle’s charming description of such an act… or rather, a daily series of acts. “I wanted to read [my newspaper], and I wanted to read it right then, not when there was a family member around to go out to the driveway and get it for me. (I’m kind of hard headed.) So I got my walker (stop laughing) and moved to the front door knowing full well getting down even those two steps was going to be hard and probably stupid. I opened the front door and lo and behold, there it was right smack dab in the middle of the door mat. All I had to do was bend down and pick it up. I was overjoyed!”
This collection of blog posts began at the shore, and it will end at the shore. In “Rock Pool Revelation,” Sue Pickering invites us to steep ourselves in those unexpected gifts of time for quiet contemplation. “it’s far too easy to glimpse, it’s far too easy to glance and then rush on instead of settling and letting the shadows clear and the depths reveal themselves.”
These are just a few of the 100+ new blog posts just this week from members of the RevGals blogging community. If you would like to read more, go to our web page (www.revgalblogpals.org) and look for the button labeled “Our Blogging Community.” When you visit blogs on this list, please leave a Like or a comment so the bloggers will know that you appreciate their work.
Barbara Bruneau is a retired Lutheran pastor, living in southeastern Minnesota. She is a knitter, a weaver, and a very occasional blogger at An Explosion of Texture and Color.
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