Anam Cara

Ten Minutes of Gratitude...

"In everything give thanks, for this is God's will for you in Christ Jesus."  ~I Thess. 5:18

This is the sight that greeted me early this morning as I drove to the park to run.  My reaction to it was visceral and deep.  It was as if all the color, all the light, all the ebullience of it buried itself in my chest, radiating its heat and splendor from inside me.

Just last night this same sky was an extravagance of a different sort.  To the west, the sun was descending in a fiery explosion of gold, while to the east, a glorious rainbow stretched across the sky from one horizon to the other.  The air held bits of cool rain, scattered so that you could feel each individual drop, sweet and clean.

And I wondered, "Why, God, would you expend all this glory, all this beauty, on one little town in one 24 hour period?" I couldn't get this out of my head as I ran.  And suddenly other gifts, other sweetnesses, of yesterday presented themselves for my consideration.  And yesterday was the most ordinary of days, if there is such a thing.

I knew I had to write about it.  But there was such a cacophony of thoughts in my head, I wondered how to reign them in.  I decided to give myself 10 minutes to list the things I was most grateful for over just the past 24 hours.  Then I began to wonder if this wouldn't be a worthy practice every day.  Just 10 minutes.  What would it do in my heart and mind?  How much more alert would I become to the wondrous gifts sprinkled throughout my "ordinary" days?

Here's my list.  Compiled in just 10 minutes.  Explanations added only where they seem essential.  If you took 10 minutes to make a gratitude list of your own, what...or who...would be on it? What impact, if any, do you think it might have on you?

*scary gorgeous sunset, rainbow, sunrise
*a husband who loves me all the time, no matter what
*king arthur and the knights of the round table...i'm re-reading it with josh and we saw the holy grail twice yesterday and our hearts pounded and i had tears in my eyes and we couldn't make ourselves stop reading
*water...this and the 2 that follow born of the portions read from rich stearn's the hole in our gospel
*a long-term vaccine on the horizon for malaria...my cousin-in-law is working on this at vanderbilt and though i knew it was impotant, i didn't know how important til now
*the privelege of being conduit of god's provision for a beloved family in malawi who is caring for aids orphans
*my friend anne's book permission to speak freely which released today and will be life and courage and grace to those who read it
*friends...conversations...encouragement, challenge, love
*three amazing kiddos who have grown into people i love to hang out with
*health and strength...a body that keeps doing all the crazy things i ask it to
*my mom...talked to her on the phone yesterday...receiving her last radiation treatment today and feeling strong and healthy...her cancer found early, good prognosis
*healthy food that tastes like it should be an indulgence
*home
*silence
*rain
*music...especially my son at the piano, and herbie hancock's new imagine project which i can't stop listening to

 

The Power of the Goal...

My romance with running began 4 years ago.  I am infatuated with the miracle of logging obscene distances and finding my feet still moving.  I value the life lessons learned from annihilating limits.  I love the solitude--clean, safe, uninterrupted quiet.  Almost every time my shoes hit the pavement it feels like gift.  Almost...

This summer has been a scortcher!  Two months of non-stop 90-100* days at 98% humidity have messed a little with my run-love.  But I run anyway.  Why?  Because I am a masochist?  Contrary to popular belief, no.  Because I am just that disciplined?  Not really.  I talk myself out of plenty of things that are good for me because they are hard.

I continue to lace up my shoes, breathe air that is the consistency of gravy, and sweat away as much as 5 pounds of body weight for one reason:  The Power of the Goal.  Every time I finish a distance event, I begin to plan the next.  Events give shape to training.  Build. Taper. Race. Recover. Repeat.  But, more than this, events get me out of bed on those hot, sweltering mornings when I would rather just go back to sleep.

Here is a little sneak peak at what is coming up over the next couple of months:

September 6:  Franklin Classic 10K A fun, hometown event where we will know half the participants.  Goal: beat 54:38, my previous best time.

October 3:  Wineglass Marathon, Corning, NY Goal: Boston Qualifying time of 4 hours.  Missed it by 50 seconds in May.  The memory of digging as deep as I could, and wishing there was a little more there to give, has been very motivational this summer.

November 5-6:  Ragnar Relay, Chattanooga to Nashville Inaugural event.  12 people.  36 legs.  195 miles.  Goal:  Avoid getting run over in the dark or mauled by wild animals.  Have fun!

How about you?  What motivates you to do things that are good for you? 

 

Glory Undiffused....

I once had this hydrangea.  It was a shade of purple I can't describe.  What it did to me was all out of proportion.  There was an ache...but it was an ache I would choose to experience over and over and over......  A mystical orgasm of sorts.  Please, do not think I resort to inflammatory language.  The confluence of agony and ecstasy positively defies polite address.  From whence does this emanate?  How does a color possess the power to undo?  What is hidden in this moment...this encounter?

Pikes Peak: that stab in the chest that is not altitude.  It is immensity and grandeur and majesty.  The Grand Canyon: thoroughly annihilating all concept of space and perspective.  The crinkled face of a new born baby; ruddy and wet and angry, and so completely marvelous and other and perfect that I can not make myself breathe.  The silence...touchable, tastable.....following a poem, a symphony, that pierces so deeply that one must hide in the silence to recover...to return...from that place beyond...

Glory. It delivers itself to us...in moments like these.  And we understand.  And we can not possibly understand.  And we want to grasp it and hold on to it and wrap it in a box so we can visit it again and again.  But it is vapor.  It is gift.  Elusive and miraculous.

I am the grateful, unworthy recipient of these splendorous moments that rip holes in my world, admitting a something beyond that at once delights and infuriates me.  It satiates and makes me ravenous.  Paradox which refuses to let me live in peace.  And it refuses to allow me to believe that this drowsy existence is all there is.

So I live with eyes wide open.  And I ask God to let me see Him.  And I am audacious enough to confess to Him that someday I would like to see Him as Peter and James and John did on Mount Tabor; as Ezekiel did from his exile in Babylon.  A glory undiffused, unattached to anything else.  Because I know my wayward heart.  I know my tendency to give too much glory to the flower, the mountain, the symphony.  At least once in my life, I would like to see His glory, His uncreated light, without refraction.  It is greedy, perhaps.  This I own.  I will not demand that He accommodate me.  But He knows my heart.  It is foolish to lie.

And in the in-between, I will drink deeply of the glory with which He caresses the most ordinary, everyday things.  And I will breathe a breath of thanksgiving for His extraordinary kindness to me, the most recalcitrant and unwieldy of His children.

*Artwork at the top of the post is Wassily Kandinsky's "Flood Improvisation".  Kandinsky's art has been another conveyance of glory in my life; unexplainable and marvelous.

What Price, Glory?

It is the best of times; It is the worst of times.  Ezekiel and his family have been forcibly removed from the only home they have ever known.  The Holy City.  The heart of everything that matters.  And now, here he sits on the banks of a foreign river, in the land of the detestable Babylonians.  But holiness will find him here.  And it will come to him in a vision more audacious than anything he would dare to dream.

A great windstorm blows in flashes of brilliant light....which become fire...which become four astonishing anthropomorphic figures with bodies like men, heads like beasts, and great wings.  Spinning underneath each is a wheel inside a wheel; both brilliant as diamonds.  Spread out over their heads is a great expanse "sparkling like ice and awesome."  And this is just prelude....

Above the icy expanse, he sees a marvelous throne of sapphire.  But, if you can imagine it, the throne pales in comparison to the One who occupies it.  A man.  From the waist up, he is glowing metal, full of fire.  His lower body is all flame.  And he is surrounded by brilliant light.  "Like the appearance of a rainbow in the clouds on a rainy day, so was the radiance around him."

Glory.

Unimpeded.

Undiluted.

Unimaginable.

I try not to be jealous.  I consider that the vision comes to him in a far off place where he is a captive; a prisoner.  I read the words that come after and see that God is going to ask a great deal of this man.  The work He has for him will be torturous; the cost very dear.  And I wonder....

I wonder if I am willing to be taken to such a hostile place...to pay so dear a price...to see what Ezekiel saw.  I covet the undiluted visible glory.  But can I bear it?  Am I willing to go where it is found?

I just don't know...

*Unattributed quotes, as well as the story itself, are drawn from the first chapter of the book of Ezekiel. Opening line adapted from  A Tale of Two Cities by Charles Dickens.

As Much as They Could Bear...

They were his closest friends.  True, he had been investing himself deeply in a group of men and women for three years.  But these three...they had gone deeper...  And he wanted to share something with them.  Something very intimate.  An extraordinary moment.  A memory...that would linger...long after he was gone.  And he would be gone.  Soon.

So they climbed a mountain.  Mount Tabor.  Funny how much of his story had been unfolded, would be unfolded, on mountains.  The three planted themselves, but he walked on a little farther.  Suddenly, he was not alone.  There were figures on either side of him.  Figures from beyond...from the other...

And he was changed.

The glory had simmered inside him for as long as they had known him.  Sometimes they caught glimpses of it in his eyes.  It had wrapped them round when he had calmed an angry sea.  It had filled their bellies with fish and bread and wine.  It had flowed from his fingers into people who were wounded and hurting and had made them well.  But now....now a visible glory radiated from him like fire.  His face shown like the sun and his garments were whiter "than any launderer could bleach them".

The hymnody of the ancient church says Peter, James and John saw his glory that day, "as much as they could bear".  It makes me think of the recurrent phrase my friends and I keep reading in the Gospel of John, "and his disciples believed in him".  They believed...as much as they could.  And the next day, or the next week, they saw more of who he was, and they believed a little more.

He had been creating a space in them...for belief...for glory.

Since celebrating the Feast of the Transfiguration last week, the phrase "as much as they could bear" keeps pricking my thoughts.  Our priest shared stories of others who had seen the glory and I find myself envious.  I am wondering what it means to be one of those to whom God chooses to reveal His glory.  And I wonder, just how much can I bear?  I would like to know.

I will be thinking out loud here for a few days.  Evesdrop if you like.  Contribute thoughts.  They are most welcome.

"Father, I want those you have given me to be with me where I am, and to see my glory, the glory you have given me because you loved me before the creation of the world." ~Jesus, John 17

 

How I Spent my Summer Vacation...

If I had it to do over, I would visit fewer places and stay longer.  We spent lots of time on trains, planes, buses, and in cars.  We are all agreed on this.  But if pushed to say which place I would have eliminated...well that gets complicated.  And, the upside to seeing so many places is that you see each in relief, against something distinctly different.  And that helps you to see it more clearly.

If I had it to do over, I would travel with the same people.  In fact, having our whole family together was one of the great gifts of the trip.  We laughed, and fussed, and tried new things.  We made memories that will always be part of the warp and weft of who we are as a family.  Having some alone time with my daughter was another.  To share secrets and dreams, good meals and close calls, this is gift.

I took just over 2000 photographs.  I would love to invite all of you over and torture you with the longest vacation slideshow ever known to man.  But since that is unlikely to happen, I offer you a slightly less personal, but much more flexible solution.  I have posted ten photo albums, the editing of which was a most torturous process.  I have included titles to all and brief explanations of some.  And the best part of this virtual slideshow is you can start and stop when you like, viewing all or some or none.  Never has it been easier to shut me up.

What follows is a teaser and a link for each album.  You can click through the link, or simply find the albums in the sidebar on the right.  Also, if I have written a separate post about the location, there will be a link to that as well.

Intriguing Istanbul

Hagia Sophia, Blue Mosque, Grand Bazaar, Turkish Viagra, Hookahs, and Turkish Tea.  Read more about it in The Holy Wisdom, In Which We Visit Two Bazaars, or Intriguing Istanbul.

Glorious Greece

Greece was austere, breathtaking grandeur, faith, silence, family, and story.  Read thoughts on Meteora or view Postcards from Athens.

Wonderment and a Delicious Trouble

Ireland was convivial and robust, a raw, persistent faith, a beauty so keen it hurts, books, gorgeous books, and the sea....  Read Wonderment and a Delicious Trouble, Healing Mystery, or Notes From Dublin.

Watercolors

Scotland was ever a flirtation with water; it was castles and monsters, mystery and fog, whiskey and clouds and rain. Read more in Painting in Watercolor.

Inside a Fairytale

Switzerland was truly a passage into another realm; a realm of chocolate and fondant, of clocks, impossible architecture, snow covered mountains and the clang of sheep bells.

Savoring Salzburg

Salzburg is a world apart too, but there is a refinement, a friendly ostentation that compells one to comport oneself with elegance and civility. Read more in Salzburg Serenade.

Florentine Interlude

Our visit to Florence was brief this time, but still delicious, artistic, and lovely.

La Mia Bella Italia

The Italy of Iz; dangerous, rugged, and extravagantly gorgeous. Read more in La Mia Bella Italia.

Beautiful Barcelona

Barcelona is an astonishing display of creativity unbound. Whimsy, experiment, and play are most welcome here.

Dans les Ravissements

Our visit to Paris was cut short by a last minute change in itinerary, so most of our time in France was spent in Monet's garden at Giverny. But what an extraordinary visit it was. Read more in Je Suis dans Les Ravissements.