Saturday, May 30, 2009

Dear God,

Living in the middle is my life right now. I am in the middle of retirement preparation. I am in the middle of surrendering my theological books and ordination stoles to Africa. I am in the middle of deciding what I need in the future. I am in the middle of saying goodbye to one I love very much. I am in the middle.

I am an adventurer. I love to begin a new thing, a new project, a new element of faith, a new journey. I love to complete a project, adjust to new faith surroundings, check off something on my list. Beginnings and endings I can do but living in the middle is more difficult.

Although I don't like living in the middle of things because I find it unnerving, unsettling, and haphazard, there is some security in the middle of things. I know I am in the middle, not yet at the end. I can walk around in the middle for a long time sometimes. I can stay in the middle pushing off decisions, holding on to things, keeping my roots in place. At times the middle is the place to be. But at some point the middle will throw you out saying, "Let's put an end to this NOW." I will have to discern whose voice is speaking. If it is your voice, I will have to start packing.

I love you,
Lord.
You are
the rock
in my faith.
You are
the greatest voice
of love
in my heart.
You are
the word
of reason
and hope
in my mind.
You are
my guide,
leading me
to unknown places.
To you
I owe
my complete trust.
Teach me
to embrace
new beginnings,
middler moments
and endings
knowing you are
pointing the way.
Teach me
the value
of personal surrender,
I pray.

Love, Andrea

Friday, May 29, 2009

Dearest God,

Sometimes I feel like a nomad wandering the sands of time. Learning to go with the flow is a lesson I am in the middle of learning. Letting go, making changes, switching to something different, adjusting to different surroundings, changing again, moving to something different again is a hard lesson to learn. But what I have gained in life is the understanding that life is always changing. Some days it is perplexing not to find permanent stable ground.

What if I were a nomad? I would have to lighten my load. I would have to select the bare essentials of life and then carry them on my back. I would accept movement as a way of life. I would not lay my head down in the same place. I would have to keep my feet in good working order. I would have to surrender any idea of having my own place. I would have to be careful what I attached myself to. I would have to allow for loss as I would lose things in the movement. I would have to say goodbye again and again to people, places and things. I would have to adopt temporary as my modus operandi. I would have to embrace a completely different way of living.

The shift from an organized life knowing where everything is, "a place for everything and everything in its place" to a cluttered, moving, surrendering existence is not an easy one. Yet, it is another lesson in trust. My life is all up in the air. I am not certain from one moment to the next what will stay up and what will drop to the ground. What I am certain of is that you are with me.

Let me walk
beside you,
Lord.
Lead my way.
Teach me
to let go
of things
I do not need.
Remind me
that the walk
of faith
is one
of great trust
and surrender.
I am yours.

Love, Andrea

Thursday, May 28, 2009

Dear God,

The strings that tug at my heart are deep. I am not a stone. I find that my tears are close to the surface, ready to spill over. I love deeply and long.

Throughout my life, dear God, I have loved and been loved. Grandparents, parents, siblings, cousins, uncles and aunts, husbands, children, grandchildren, friends. When I give my love away, I give part of myself forever. I can never retrieve love given away. I don't want to.

My love is changing and I don't like it. I am having to leave my church for retirement and my relationships will change. My life is changing with those I love the most in the world. My love is stretched.

Years ago I found my well of love emptying faster than the infilling. I felt sad, depressed and lonely. I crawled to your well to drink, never being disappointed. I drank from your well finding living water to be nourishing, refreshing. I replenished my supply.

In this changing time I find myself once again dehydrated. The love I sought for so long dried up, a product of fear and inability. What can I say in such deep despairing sadness?

How do you say goodbye to a love lived long? How do you repair a broken heart? How do you live through the loss? How do I remain at the well to drink?

Source of
living water,
I lay
at your well,
thirsty and dry.
I long
to drink,
missing the well
from which
I used
to drink.
My tears drip
as I sip
from your hand.

Love, Andrea

Wednesday, May 27, 2009

Dearest God,

Before me sits a confirmand, a young person whose faith has grown. Around her and within her I see a radiant glow. I have witnessed this aura before. It is the beauty of Christ.

Five months ago our confirmation program began. There were questions about the requirements. Happens every time. I tell them that we owe our best to our youth. I stand my ground in prayer.

It was a challenge to offer the program. I was exhausted, worn from daily trials. I was not sure I could actually follow through. Yet, I felt the divine nudge to move forward.

What I have witnessed in five short months has been amazing. Eight youth have become close friends. They finish each other’s sentences. They actually love one another. But not only this, they love you.

I ask them the questions of faith. What is faith? How does the Bible have relevancy? What role will God play on the day of your profession of faith? If asked to be a confirmation mentor in ten years, what challenges would you present to your confirmand? Jesus said, “I am the light of the world.” How are you light? If Jesus is the center of the church, how are you part of that center? What image of God is your favorite and why? And many more. For an hour they answer my questions.

When I mention the question about being asked to be a mentor, the five youth I have already interviewed smile. “Yes!” A bright yes. One girl told me how privileged she would be to accept that role.

This is the work of God. Your spirit has led this whole process. I have simply facilitated the conversation. They have opened themselves to a walk of faith. Gladly they have engaged in matters of the heart and spirit. They have discussed death and resurrection and much more. A lot for 12 and 13 year old youth. They’re still pilgrims on a pilgrimage of faith for life.

Facilitate faith
in us,
O Christ.
Move us
to action,
to love
one another,
to serve,
to care,
to trust,
to pilgrim
our way
to the Divine.
Along the way
guide our footsteps,
caution us
in the pitfalls,
the chuck holes
that threaten
to cause
a fall,
teach us
to build bridges
of faith
that we
may walk
the way
of Christ.

Love, Andrea

Tuesday, May 26, 2009

Dear God,

Today I begin a hectic week of confirmation interviews and plans for Confirmation Sunday. Pentecost, that great day of spirit, is the day when eight confirmands will stand before you. They will answer questions of faith. They will kneel and pray. They will feel the hands of their parents, their lay leader and mentor, and their pastor upon their heads as they are confirmed in the faith. What a great day it will be.

What will I find when each one sits before me for an hour answering theological questions? Are they ready for this momentous decision? Are their hearts prepared to receive you? Are they open to changes that faith will bring? Are they ready for you?

As I look deeply into their faces, will I see the face of Christ looking back at me?

You are
the only God
of faith.
You are
the power,
the sacred,
divine power
of love,
O God.
As I sit
with these youth,
dear Christ,
lead me
in the questions
that lead
to faith,
I pray.

Love, Andrea

Monday, May 25, 2009

My dearest God,

A new day begins and already I have complained. My situation is not ideal. I have so much with me and I carry it from place to place. I realize I need to downsize in order to make things manageable.

Learning to go with the flow, making adjustments to my life moment by moment is the work of grace. I am not intended to live an easy life. An easy life is a life filled with temptation to forget you, to walk life alone, to take credit for the good, to live off the fat of the land. Learning to walk with you through daily trials enriches my life because it forces me to trust you in all situations. My sisters and brothers whose lives are fraught with poverty, disease, fear, famine and war whisper to me from their dark distress. I have to remember that the grand design did not have me living with everything I think I need.

Forgive me,
Lord,
for I began
my day
with complaints.
I forgot
who I was.
I failed
to remember
your goodness
to me
in and out
of season.
I acted
like a
spoiled child.
I confess
my ignorance
and failure
of memory.
You, O Lord,
are my
great teacher.
Teach me
your ways.

In gratitude, Andrea

Sunday, May 24, 2009

Dear God,

Some days, O God, the sermon comes to me a line at a time. It is a struggle. I sit, pray, read, write, ponder, reflect; yet, just a word will come. I have to be patient even when time is running out.

What to say in a sermon is unbelievably important. I don't consider it my work alone. I do have to work at it but ultimately the message is yours. I have to trust, listen and be obedient. When an idea comes, I trust it to be yours if it is a good one. What do you want to say to your children? is the question I ask frequently. What do you want us to know? What challenge do you want to leave us?

This morning it was difficult. Other thoughts ran through my mind and it was irritating to me. I had to confess, apologize for being unable to stay on task. I was grateful when it was finished.

Leaving an open line to you is not always easy. I want to connect directly to you. If I am to serve your people with your message then I know I must be open and listening to you. I cannot run ahead and say any old thing. I must remain open to you, be patient and attentive, always with my ear to the ground so I don't miss anything. I want there to be nothing between us. I know that my sin, whatever it is at the time, always lingers at the door wanting to snatch away anything good that comes. My guilt, my lack of cooperation, my resentments and/or bitterness hang around as well. So I have to labor to keep the door open. When something comes to me from you, I count it a gift.

O God,
let nothing
stand between us.
Teach me
the way
of confession.
Rid my soul
of every sin.
Let innocence,
purity
and a
clean soul
be my
soul's desire.
Open every pore
to prayer
so that
I may
make myself ready
for you.

Love, Andrea

Saturday, May 23, 2009

Dearest God,

Porch living is a good thing. Staying at a retreat home in northern Indiana, the front screened in porch has a swing and several rockers. Early morning writing on the porch, sipping coffee while swinging or just looking out over the long lawn complete with a labyrinth, pines and various trees is glorious. The cool morning breeze sweeps in reminding me of the magnificent beauty of your creation.

My friends and I discovered a book revealing both nine personality styles and nine faces of God. Reading about our own personality styles has brought new information to all of us. I understand better my ways of being. I can see how I live out of my strengths when things are going well. But when stress enters, I reverse directions, living out of fear and weakness. The blessing in all this is that there are several suggestions for living during stressful times. We have only seen the tip of the iceberg. I am looking forward to uncovering more in order to live life differently, adopting some new ways of being, and trusting you more fully.

Thank you
for your
generous spirit,
O God.
You reveal yourself
in incredible ways
and I find
new openings
to paths unknown.
I want
to walk
the walk
of faith,
to trust anew,
to liberate myself
from unwanted,
unncessary behaviors
that drag
me down
to the depths.
I want
to discover
the possibility
of a
spiritual trampoline
where when
I begin
the spiral downward,
I actually begin
to spring up.
You are
the power
behind such
loving action.

All of me gives thanks, Andrea

Friday, May 22, 2009

Dear God,

Angels appear when least expected and bring messages. No, I don’t see angel wings and white flowing gowns. What I do see, however, is the inner workings of heaven, persons who bring to us creative messages about our self, God and the world.

I have heard it said that there is nothing new under heaven. I don’t know whether that is true or not. However, when I feel hemmed in by my situations in life and the corners of my box grow more compact, I know I need a change in perspective. And it is when the need for transformation comes that I am more open to heaven’s message to me. Heaven’s creatures stir entering my scene revealing greater truth about myself, my abilities and capabilities, my own inner workings and the paths toward healing and wholeness.

Heaven’s angel came today bearing intriguing news.

You are God;
there is
no other.
I stand
at the entrance
to heaven
and you
release news
that sets
people free.
Your love
is the means
by which
heaven’s mysteries
are told.
I know
I am not worthy
for such
kingdom learnings;
yet,
you bring them
to me.
Most Gracious Father,
thank you.
My love
for you
grows more
each day.

Eternally grateful, Andrea

Thursday, May 21, 2009

Dear God,

I felt it slipping away. Mostly heat triggered my body systems to begin to shut down. My eyelids were so heavy I could not hold them up. My energy drained from me. Just minutes before I was perfectly fine. My head fell to the side as I started falling asleep. My heart pounded in my chest but ever so slowly. I felt it slowing, slowing, slowing. My breathing became shallow. The strength in my voice faded as I could only talk in a whisper. I shuffled my feet to the couch. I sat there, feeling limp and worn.

I have learned that strength in the face of difficulty can dissolve very quickly. Weakness takes the place of strength and if there are no reserves, I am left with nothing but faith. Fortunately I sat in my daughter's air conditioned home. She gave me something to drink. I sat and waited. I felt the downward trend begin to change and U, I call it. That is when I am descending and I suddenly hit a place where something else is triggered. My symptoms begin lessening and I begin the upward side of the U. My strength began slowly returning. The crisis passed.

I have experienced these crises several times. They are scary. My systems are not playing tricks on me; they are really shutting down. I can only be patient, rest, remain calm, stay cool, and trust you to help me through them. I learn each time how important trust is especially when there is nothing else to do.

You are
my savior
in so
many ways.
Sometimes
I do not
even have
the strength
to reach out.
I have
to trust
that you know
what is happening.
I have
to trust
that you
are present,
restoring me.
When I
am renewed,
my prayers
of gratitude
are lifted.
Thank you,
Most Wondrous,
Loving God.
I could not
live without you.

Love, Andrea

Wednesday, May 20, 2009

Dearest God,

I returned to the chair where wisdom is birthed. The wise woman sat across from me asking me questions. Together we discovered truth.

Early childhood beginnings hold truth. Sometimes I have to return there. I have to wander around inside my soul looking for my own life’s mysteries.

I shared my known truths. She guided me toward greater knowledge. We identified ages where unresolved happenings occurred leading me toward hurt, resentment and if the whole truth is to be told, bitterness. I blamed and judged others for my pain and suffering. I didn’t realize my own truth until the wise woman lead me through the forest of unknowing.

I came to the realization that I must always look inside myself for the cause of pain. Sometimes, maybe even often, maybe even very often the pain is my own, caused by myself although unconscious. I understand better that life experiences make us what we are. They become the norm through which we judge life.

I learned a truth about my own psychological development today. I found my strength has been borne out of suffering. When feeling alone I traveled to your heart looking for comfort. I was never been disappointed. I discovered strength the size of Solomon and I built up that strength over time.

Where I found trouble was in my expectations of my self and close loved ones. I learned the whereabouts of my weakness. I also learned more about others. I now have the understanding I longed for. Understanding is good; it gives clarity. However, when the truth rises up, it can confirm something that has been rattling around. I know why things are the way they are. I am sad.

Truthtelling God,
you are
the life force
running through
my veins.
You long
to reveal
the truth
about your children.
You desire
to teach us
and then
guide us
toward better living.
You move us
toward taking responsibility
and growing
our underdeveloped places.
You whisper
encouragement and hope
to every child.
I want
to take
my lead
from you.

Love, Andrea

Tuesday, May 19, 2009

Dear God,

Some days are hard, very hard. Today was one of those. I thought my spirit might break today.

Two situations presented me with challenges. I was not certain I could deal with them without breaking wide open. In fact on one I did. I went to another room and allowed the dam to burst. Tears coming from a deep gut are the most difficult kind.

I felt very weak as I lay down in my bed at the end of the day. I prayed and fell fast asleep.

Sometimes,
O God,
all I
can do
is trust,
act,
walk
and sleep.

Love, Andrea

Monday, May 18, 2009

Dear God,

I have heard people say that my spirituality is different from others, that mine is deeper than most. I have to confess that that troubles me. I realize I can only see through my own lens and I know that my reality is my reality. However, how can it be that people think this way?

I am not god. I don't try to play god. I don't think I try to make others think I am god. Yet, I still get these comments about what I have done to change the spiritual lives of others. One thing about which I am very clear. I do not change people. I do not possess such powers. I am simply a door opener. I stand at the opening to God's presence and I invite people in.

I have a thirst for you. Doesn't nearly everyone? And if this is true, then don't we all have the same capability of meeting you? The same capacity of infilling?

I love being a door opener. In fact I remember a scripture and a song (in my own words) that goes something like this: I'd rather be a door opener in the presence of the Lord than a thousand other things. It is so true. This is my most favorite role. A door opener for God.

I want
to open doors
for you,
O Lord.
Why would
I want
to do
anything else?

Loving you, Andrea

Sunday, May 17, 2009

My dearest God,

In this life how do we prevent hurting people? How do we keep ourselves safe emotionally and yet help other people?

I have always been concerned for people. It is my nature. I do not try to hurt anyone deliberately but I do sometimes. When I give so much of myself away, I leave myself bare and vulnerable. Too much too long and I empty my vessel. In such moments I can't blame anyone else. I have to take full responsibity for my emptiness.

I know I need to keep myself full of you, Lord. As long as my vessel is full of you, I can love others more and more. In the process of remaining full of you, I can give myself to others.

I need a balance, Lord. I would never want to be full of you and keep you just for myself. What is the use? What good would I be to the world if I hoarded all your blessings and failed to care for those brothers and sisters around me?

Teach me
to care,
dear God,
care for myself
while caring
for my
brothers and sisters.
I long
to do
your will,
to follow
your plan,
to fulfill
your purpose
in my life.
I can
only do so
by listening
to you,
by following
your lead.
You are
the Source
of all things,
Precious Redeemer.
May I tap
more and more
into your
living power.

Love, Andrea

Saturday, May 16, 2009

My dearest God,

On our retreat we had to select rocks symbolizing those things that have power over us. Those things that have a seemingly powerful control. I knew the one thing with which I struggle.

As a first born I carry within me the responsibility of making things right, helping people deal with their sorrow, and propping people up. I go to great ends in my work and relationships to take care of such matters or feel guilty.

I picked up my rock, wrote down "temptation to rescue" and taped the paper to the rock. I could feel the responsibility as I held the rock in my hand. I put it in my "evil" bag and was told I had to carry it with me in the night and to breakfast and session this morning. As I write I feel this bulge in my right hand pocket.

As we each one carried our powerful rocks, we were given the opportunity to exfoliate the control we allow these symbols and realities to carry. In a candle lighted room the first station was a cleansing station; an exfoliant was placed on our hands. One of those sugar rubs, we were supposed to massage it into our hands. Following that we went to the second station to cleanse with water. At the final station our hands were dried with a cloth.

I held on to my powerful rock. Responsibility dies hard with me. Tears formed and I wondered how I could get out without cleansing. I couldn't. I was the last to step forward. With tears slowly sliding down my face I put out my hands. When the exfoliant was placed in my hands and I started massaging it, I felt like Judas. These are Judas hands, I thought. It felt wrong to cleanse myself. I did it anyway.

It's always
about trust,
dear God.
Letting go
seems only right
for some.
Yet,
I know
that letting go,
surrendering is
so important.
I cannot carry
other people's responsibilities;
I rob them
of the right
to free themselves,
to experience liberation,
to walk anew
with you.

Love, Andrea

Friday, May 15, 2009

Dearest God,

I sat in the liturgy at the Benedictine Monastery. The sisters had gathered in the chapel. All was quiet. Each one meeting you in the spirit of love. When we stood to make the sign of the cross upon our bodies, I saw a desire to enter the deepest part of human life. I witnessed the meeting of the human and the divine.

I once heard someone say following a retreat, "Well, it's back to the real world." That hit me like a ton of bricks. The real world? And what is it we have just come from?

It seems to me that the life we grab most days is a life less than the real life. All day long we seek happiness. And happiness appears to be moments of high adrenalin rushes. We go from one rush to another, hoping to keep ourselves buoyed up. Happiness, it seems, is life's greatest goal achievement.

But happiness is hollow. It is temporary. Let a few minutes pass and that euphoric feeling is gone much like a sugar rush that suddenly drops. We spend a lifetime trying to be happy. We even go so far as to say to our children, "All I want is for you to be happy", like that is life's best.

I did not observe happiness in the chapel. I did not witness a bunch of giddy women getting their daily high. What I saw and experienced was something much more. It was like an experience of being parched, really thirsty and finding a spring, a clean, clear body of water and drinking from it. Life springs from drinking cool water. And this life experience is so much more than a happy, dappy experience.

This life experience offers so much more than happiness. There is an infilling of delight, joy, hope and peace. And from this experience can come courage, strength, power and the ability to risk. This one experience of life in worship can come acts of service, faith and spiritual adventure. In such cases one can "leap tall buildings in one bound."

A living experience with you leads us to each other. We lean toward one another and find ourselves caring more, wanting to reach out to make the world a better place for all, making life possible for all. When happiness has vanished leaving us empty, a living experience with you continues, opening doors to so many possibilities.

O God,
center of
deep joy,
you are life
to me.
As I
give myself
to you,
again and again,
I discover
the spiritual depths
of life.
I encounter
life's mysteries
and I know
I have
a purpose
to fulfill,
not just
for my own happiness
but for
the world's peace.

Love, Andrea

Thursday, May 14, 2009

Dearest God,

I walked down the hospital corridor and saw a note pinned to a wall. Written by an eight year old boy Elliott had written a letter to God. "Sometimes I think about you even when I'm not praying." He wrote.

Sometimes I think about you even when I'm not praying. Isn't life about thinking about you every moment, carrying you in our soul with every breath? Isn't life about living with you in our whole being? Isn't life about God and God's human companion? And what about life is not sacred? I remember reveling that a woman in the hospital had a bowel movement after a bowel obstruction had placed her in the hospital. Finding you in the midst of every kind of situation is what life is about for me. How could I possibly celebrate life without you? Life with you is a one continuous grand celebration.

I found you in the lines of a little boy's letter, a heartfelt writing letting you know how he felt, what he thought. I saw a young child thinking about deep matters and I loved it. I found you on the third floor at Methodist Hospital.

All praise,
yes,
all praise
to you,
Glorious God.
I find you
in the
most beautiful places...
on the street,
in the hospital,
in the parking lot,
at the grocery,
at the movies
and in the library.
You are everywhere,
God Most Lovely.

Loving you, Andrea

Wednesday, May 13, 2009

Dearest God,

I walked to liturgy early so I could spend some personal time in prayer. I wanted the quiet setting with others who want the same. As we stood to acknowledge the beginning of our worship, we started to sing. I love to sing so I started with my usual singing voice. But then I heard those around me singing with one voice, a blending of all their voices into one. I did not want to stay on the outside of this radical community, radical in the sense that they were many, yet one. They value community over the individual. So did I. My voice became one with theirs. So much better.

We sing
to you,
God Most High.
We blend
our voices
to become one
as we come
before you.
As one body
we bow
in humble adoration.
We offer you
our prayers
of thanksgiving.

Love, Andrea

Tuesday, May 12, 2009

Dearest God,

A new day has begun. I looked outside just as the first light was rising. I could see the blue sky with clouds on the horizon. I was tempted to turn over, to go back to sleep but I remembered that I needed to begin the work of purging today. Cleaning up, cleaning out papers and files from 25 plus years of ministry. Oh my goodness.

I need to look at all my books deciding which ones will go to a small village in Ghana, which ones will go to a little library in New Mexico and which ones will return home with me. A lifetime of ministerial resources will be separated to new homes. It is time.

A new day is dawning in my life. Bittersweet, I know I must trust you for each step.

Gracious God,
you are always
calling me
to change,
to renew,
to be transformed.
You are calling
me to
new levels
of faith.
I am having
to say goodbye
to earlier chapters
in my life.
Oh how hard
to do so.
Yet,
I find
that when
I follow
your lead,
I am enabled
to do
what I
once thought
impossible.
Thank you.

Grateful, Andrea

Monday, May 11, 2009

My dearest God,

Quietude, silence, a listening for the spirit speaks profoundly to my soul. In quieting my own words, thoughts and images, I hear the sounds of faith. My soul is at peace. I breathe in the air of the spirit. I revel in your presence.

I spent years filling my world with sound. Silence, in this case, the absence of sound, scared me to death. I imagined that the world of silence had scary monsters running around waiting to grab someone, in particular me. But then I found the true silence, a world of quiet peace and hope, a serene environment where the possibilities of a divine/human relationship are revealed. I entered this new world and found myself at home.

When I am overcome with grief, disappointment or sadness, I retreat to this sacred place. I know I am always welcome and I find my troubles lessened in their ability to disturb my soul. I listen for your voice of hope, encouraging me to step forward in faith. Often I lay out a list of my own sins asking for your divine guidance. I do not want to be left in my own muck.

In this quiet place I walk with you, not the other way around. I know the name of the leader and it is not me. We walk in tranquil paths and I am released of my fears and sorrows. I fill up with hope and continue my journey.

Sacred Leader,
I want
to always
follow you.
I want
to get
my marching orders
from you.
I want
to carry
your presence
with me
to dispense
as you
see fit.
No one
can possess you
but what
I discover
is something
to be shared
and I gladly
share it.
I am
profoundly joyful
in your
loving presence.

Love, Andrea

Sunday, May 10, 2009

Dear God,

Last night I went to bed so exhausted. I could not imagine being able to rise early, to finish my sermon and to preach two times. Yet, I fell to sleep with the assurance that you are the God of the Weary.

When I awakened I was tired, but not exhausted. My fear from the night before did not resurface. I felt your sustaining power.

At church I felt peace. As I looked around it was as though your angels were hemming me in. No fiery darts could get through. I went about my usual routine, readying the holy space for worship.

As I looked upon my people, the beloved, I was aware that I will only be with them a few more Sundays before retirement. I know many of their stories. I know their struggles and their triumphs. I know some of their continuing hurts. As I stood to speak, I prayed for your strength and your strength came to me. Today I sensed we climbed the mountain of faith together, weary and worn, some troubled and afraid, yet, together we got up from our mats and we began the climb.

You call
out like
a mysterious echo.
You keep calling.
Come to me,
come to me.
And we
rise up
because we want
to meet
that voice
with our faith.

You are the true beloved, Andrea

Saturday, May 9, 2009

My dearest God,

Your face, your voice comes to me in surprising ways. I had a dark night of the soul last week. I woke up and everything dark came to me. I tried to fight it asking your son to fight for me. I finally put on a monk's song, music from the soul. The music put me to a restful sleep.

The sun had already risen later when I opened my eyes. Beside me my eight year old granddaughter was all cuddled up in the covers. "Hi Grandma." These words were words of Christ for me. They bore the marks of a relationship. Love spoke the words to me. "Hi, Sweet Pea." I whispered back to her.

One gracious, very gracious gift you have given me is the ability to anticipate your voice, your face every day. What is a day without you? Either you are with us or you are not. I have seen you thousands of days across my lifetime. I know now that it is not possible to spend one day without you. And so I wait for you to come, to be revealed. Countless ways I have witnessed you. Today it was an eight year old voice, the face of innocence, beauty and goodness. She was a gift of grace to me.

Speak,
O Lord,
and I will listen.
Reveal yourself
to me
and I will
humbly bow.
You are
the joy
in my soul.

Gratefully, Andrea

Friday, May 8, 2009

Dearest God,

I just told her to get out of bed. Rubbing her sleepy eyes, I told her a second time to get up because I was taking her for an adventure at 7 am. My friend in the hospital was discouraged and worse yet, despairing. I had decided to kidnap her for a couple of hours. Of course, I had checked it out with the nurse first.

My friend went to the bathroom and combed her hair before she climbed into the wheelchair and I began to maneuver the wheelchair and the IV thingie on wheels. I finally got her out of her darkened room and into the elevator. First, we stopped at the cafeteria for coffee and then made our way gingerly down the slope and finally outdoors on the veranda.

We sat and talked for two hours. In the chilly air beside the ground cover landscape we laughed, yes, we laughed. I told her stories about the night before, closing down Barnes and Noble with four baskets full of clearance books, how we had them all laid out on the floor making basket items for the mission auction. We need one more fairy, an ocean and two princess books, I cried out at one point. Three of us went in separate directions to get the last books before checkout. We were noisy and probably obnoxious but did we have fun. At the time that little adventure was for my own despair.

Eventually I took my friend for a second cup of coffee and time in the cafeteria. We both breathed in fresh air of your spirit knowing somehow we would both be all right.

O God,
you are
the breath
of fresh air.
When in
your loving presence,
indeed all
is well.
A spiritual adventure,
like a
hunt for treasure,
is an antidote
for discouragement,
depression,
and despair.
The fog lifts
in your presence
revealing the light.

Loving you, Andrea

Thursday, May 7, 2009

Dearest God,

I nearly gave up hope today. Deep hurts tugged at my weary soul. I could not see the light. I wept into my blanket, controlling the sound of my deep cry. Where are you? I asked. I felt myself sinking into that black place where light is so hard to find.

But then I turned. I took out my CD player. I grabbed hold of John Michael Talbot, a rock singer turned monk two decades ago. Here is someone who knows the darkness and the light, I thought to myself. I plugged myself into the music, sacred sounds of hope, of goodness and beauty. I let my soul go, searching for the light. My pulse slowed, my heart found its rhythm, my soul found its peace. I fell asleep.

You are
my peace,
Great God
of hope.
I turn
to you.
Who else
can give hope?
Who else
can turn
the darkness
into light?
Who else
can manifest
agape love?
Who else
but you,
God Most Holy,
God of Love,
God of
my soul?

Love, Andrea

Wednesday, May 6, 2009

Dear God,

Sometimes an unexpected call can send me spiraling downward. I may be unaware of a situation or aware but surprised by a reaction. If not centered, focused on your power to perservere, I may stumble and fall, shocked by the rapid decline.

Such moments call me "home". I scramble to find my way to your feet, to the foot of the cross. I may crawl on my knees to that holy place hoping upon hope to find you waiting for me. There I place myself fully in your presence. I cry out, "Abba Father." I lay out every pain, every sorrow. Eventually I find a release. I know I have found my refuge, my place of safety. I weep, my gratitude spilling out in tears.

Who are you
but God Almighty?
Who are you
but Great Peace?
Who are you
but Agape Love?
Who are you
but God alone?

I bow
to you
for saving me...
again.

Love, Andrea

Tuesday, May 5, 2009

Dear God,

I sat in my garden before the sun rose. I wanted to tend to my garden. I pulled weeds, thistles and other undesirables. But as I sat there I looked among my Iris and saw that dandelions had seeded themselves among the most beautiful of my flowers. Suddenly, I was overwhelmed. My garden was in complete disarray because I had neglected it. Last year I was sick and weak, brokenhearted and alone. I tried to do what I could, even hiring help to assist me. However, my garden fell into disrepair. I thought about my life and wept.

The garden was a metaphor for my life, my relationships. As I looked upon the weeds, I saw the the broken places that had developed in my life. I had felt alone and overwhelmed as I had the summer before. I had felt the responsibility to do it all myself as I had months earlier. As I sat in my garden, I felt tired, weak, vulnerable and alone. I hadn't done any better in my life than I had in my garden. I sobbed.

At one point I wanted to give up. I simply didn't have the energy to take one more step, do one more thing. I just didn't think I could keep going.

When I was asked later in the day to pick up something from the grocery, I heard my own words..."I can't..." My words jolted me. I prayed, "Lord, help me be who I am, not who I am not." I suddenly realized that I was not a victim. I was not weak. I was not frail. I was a strong woman of faith. I walked into the grocery and picked up the item requested. I also grabbed a half dozen other things. I walked my faith. I trusted you.

You are
my strength.
You are
my courage.
You are
my blessing.
You are
my truth.
You are
my love.

Grateful to you, Most Blessed Father, Andrea

Monday, May 4, 2009

Dearest God,

Why is it that certain people bring hidden tears to the surface? What is it about particular people that brings life's hurts and faith together at the same time?

Sharing sad news with the public is difficult and painful. But opening myself up to deep persons of faith, persons who love and respect me, people that I know I will disappoint is excruciating. My tears easily collect and spill over. My heart hurts all over again.

Life decisions are not easy especially the ones that will impact others. I take my decisions very seriously because I truly want to be a faithful witness to you. That is why my current decision has taken so long, so many years long because I wanted to try everything, to give all I had, to use every method to change things. But nothing worked. I could no longer keep dying inside. I had to stop the bleeding.

Standing in your presence, sharing all, crying out my every sorrow, falling at your feet has been my modus operandi for a long time. Where else could I go? Everything, every situation winds up at your feet anyway. Trying to skirt around issues, keeping things hidden away, and going on about my daily business can continue for a while but you always know what is happening. You know every detail. Who am I kidding? You know it all. You wait patiently for me to come, to let go, to give you everything, confessions, tears, petitions, pain and anguish, and my love. And when I finally show up, when I reveal my deepest hurts aloud, I hear gentle spirit words that ease my suffering. And then I wonder why I waited so long.

God Most Holy,
I honor you.
You are
the deepest love
of my life.
It is
to you
that I come,
sharing my all.
You are
my holy parent.
I come
to you
as a child,
a wounded child,
a hurting child,
a child looking
for help.
I always
find it
in your arms.

Love, Andrea

Sunday, May 3, 2009

Dearest God,

In the face of the saints I crumble and fall before God. My dear friends in Christ sat in the pew to worship. Having served in the trenches for more than 60 years their faithfulness touches me every Sunday. There is always a glow in the pew.

I hated sharing my sad news with them. I knew they would be sad and disappointed. I knew she would cry and her tears would bring tears to me. And so we wept together. But he hugged me, offering me God's blessing and direction in this time of my life.

Vulnerability places everyone at your feet. When my soul is bared before all, there is no better place in which to scramble. I close my eyes and pray for your guidance and strength.

I cry out
to you,
Heavenly Father.
I long
for your strength
and courage.
I reach out
and am
never disappointed
when you
reach back.
May this
open soul
of mine
find rest
in your arms.

In gratitude, Andrea

Saturday, May 2, 2009

Dearest God,

The crowd that had gathered together were noisy, fellowshipping with one another, remembering and reflecting upon the death of a close friend. But when I came around the corner and lit the altar candles, everything fell into a hush. The light had entered the darkness.

The sound of faith is like no other sound. There is a reverence, a love, a sacred love. It is like being in the throne room with your son. Who wants to talk in the sacred dwelling place?

Any space can be the dwelling place of God. Your light brings our hearts to a momentary pause. In our spirits we bow to honor you and to give you your rightful place. It is saying with our souls, "You are God."

You are God,
Sacred God on High,
and we bow
before you.
We want
to bow
before you.
We want
to humble ourselves
in your
mighty presence.
Why would
we not?
Our very existence
has come
into being
by your word.
Our breath
is yours.
We are
your cherished gift.
The gift
always bows
to the giver.
It is
our honor
to do so.

Love, Andrea

Friday, May 1, 2009

Dear God,

Trusting you with all my heart makes any situation bearable. When I think back over my life, I remember many difficult times. Sometimes I suffered from heartbreak. Sometimes it was health, relationships, work, perspective. Every time I felt the call to trust.

Recently events have reminded me that every situation is a call to trust. A lack of trust is never warranted. Any and all situations call out to trust in God.

I have a sick friend. I trust in God. I have a sad heart. I trust in God. I have health issues. I trust in God. I am in the middle of change. I trust in God. I am moving in my soul. I trust in God.

Trusting God,
I come
to you.
You call out
my name.
I listen.
Trust me,
you say.
I pour
out my heart,
my situation.
You call me
by name.
Trust me.
Trust me.
Trust me.
I trust you,
Lord,
I trust you.
Help me live
a life
of trust
now and forever.

Loving you, Andrea

Thursday, April 30, 2009

Dear God,

My friend is septic, sick, very sick. Her husband drove her all the way to the hospital from Florida, more than 1,000 miles. She is in intensive care now getting the help she needs.

I stayed with my friend all night. I listened to her moans of pain. I watched them try to insert a line in a vein in her neck but they were unsuccessful. She needs more fluids.

I have witnessed the fragility of life. I have seen how a person can be perfectly healthy one moment and deathly ill the next. I understand human mortality.

But all during the time I have seen how fragile human life is, I have noticed the constancy of God. Who are you if not God? Where are you if not beside each one? What are you if not pure love?

You are
constantly faithful,
Great God;
you speak
and your word rumbles
in our souls.
I cannot travel
beyond your presence.
I may
be sick
or sick of heart,
but I
do not have
to hunt
for you.
You are
as near
as my breath.
I call
on you
for my friend.
I ask for
your intervention
to stem
the tide
of her infection.
I know
you are
with her.
I lean
on you
for comfort,
for you alone
are God.

Love, Andrea