Wednesday, December 30, 2009

Dear God,

It seems to me, O Lord, that the world is renewing itself. Ideas which were not formed are coming together to create. To participate in this process is like being at creation's beginning.

I am working with three other women to design a retreat. All are Catholic; one is a sister. Women Wrapped in Grace is intended to give women an experience of divine grace, that wholly holy gesture of supreme love. I am drawn into it myself for my own continuing encounters with you.

I find this work an exceptional episode of grace itself. The inner workings of your spirit is something to behold, to gaze with wonder and amazement brings a unique kind of joy. I am grateful to be on the inside creating with you.

To make something
out of nothing
is an act
of creation
lead by
your hand.
I revel
in moments
like these
because I know
you are guiding
the process.
Thank you
for making me
a co-creator
with you,
a very
small one
to be sure,
yet a partner.

Love, Andrea

Tuesday, December 29, 2009

Dear God,

During this spiritually rich feeding time I am building up trust. I am taking inside myself the capacity for more confidence in you. I know that uncertain times call for greater conviction. As I lean upon you to help me forge a greater ability to rely on you, I know that trust will lead me to faith.

You have shown me the road to faith via trust can either be a long one or short. If I procrastinate, forgetting to pray, read scripture or meditate, I can expect my journey to take a while, days, weeks, months or sometimes years depending on circumstances. On the other hand I can reach faith in a relatively short time when I practice the disciplines that will lead me there. When I silence myself, reaching for heaven I will almost always find you waiting for me.

Teach me,
O Lord,
the ways
of faith.
Lead me quickly
to the door
labeled trust.
Open me
to faith
that I
might not
only believe
but live
and breathe
your spirit.
I ask this
in the name
of a
baby turned man
and savior.

Love, Andrea

Monday, December 28, 2009

My dearest God,

I love to be hunkered down on a cold, wintry day. I love the snow, that glittering white powder that hugs trees and branches creating a picturesque landscape. Like an image from Currier and Ives I drink in a quiet peace that feeds my soul.

On these days I am challenged to think on faith, to bring to mind the fascination of this season, the spiritual intrigue. I know that quiet moments when it seems nothing much is happening is the time that more is happening than meets the eye. Like trees whose roots are deepening, feeding itself with necessary nutrients hidden in the ground, the human spirit experiences openings into the sacred mystery. Opportunities galore await those who are hungry.

As I sit in my comfortable front room looking out the window gazing upon the snowy surface, I too am putting down my roots nuzzling the hand that feeds the soul. It is there I meet you.

In the midst
of glory
that comes
from heaven,
I find myself
hungry for you.
You challenge me
to let down
my roots,
anticipating the manna
that will come.
I meet you
not only
with a
hungry soul
but also
a grateful heart.

Love, Andrea

Sunday, December 27, 2009

My dearest God,

Reconnecting after a long absence is a wonderful gift. Relationships made several years ago are reawakening and joy is filling my soul.

I am convinced that some relationships are made in heaven, those eternal connections that link us with one another. We may be apart for years, yet when we come together it is as though no time has passed between us.

After giving myself for so long to the church and church work, I am finally building a life again. Not that what I did was not a life, it was just not a personal one separate from what I did. There was no time, no energy for anything else.

I believe you have saved up relationships for me so that at the appropriate time I could once again walk beside friends and they could walk alongside me. I am finding my way back, sometimes stumbling, at other times walking into embracing arms.

O God,
I am grateful
for my friends,
those persons
who willingly share
in my life.
I am thankful
to let go
of so much responsibility
that inhibited me
from sharing
more fully.
Thank you,
Gracious God,
for remaining
by my side
although at times
I did
give myself wholly
to our relationship.
Lead me
in a circle,
I pray,
one that
will always
lead me back
to you.

Love, Andrea

Saturday, December 26, 2009

My dear God,

I sat in the rocking chair gazing at the shimmering lights of the Christmas tree, mantle and candles burning. As I listened alone to the sacred sounds of Christmas, my front room suddenly became alive with memory. My husband sat on the hearth by the roaring fire; my family appeared all around the room, my father in the rocker and mother nearby. I could hear the happy cadence, the blending of joyful voices. I saw the tables wrapped in starched white linens with lovely crystal and china settings, a crowd of people celebrating Epiphany. I watched past Christmases unfold. All at once I was so full that my tears spilled over with joy.

How is it that such events take place? How can quiet silence make room for such merriment? How does it happen that the dead can rise for a quick miraculous moment of remembrance?

Divine Mystery Maker,
I often
find myself
in the middle
of your mystery.
I wonder why.
I think about
such things
and feel
infinite blessing
to be
so near
to you.
I can only
mutter a
few sounds
of loving appreciation
before breaking
into fervid prayer.

Humbly yours, Andrea

Friday, December 25, 2009

My dearest God,

The day dawned rainy and cold but inside my home a fire glowed, a Cathedral choir sang, and the aromas from favorite family foods swirled in my home. It was Christmas again, that annual celebration of your divine mystery. I was happy and content although I was alone.

Soon they came, my children, grandchildren and later my first great grandchild with his mother and my grandson. After eating we squeezed into the sitting area in the front room, all 18 of us. I read the children's book, Light of Christmas, about a little boy who unselfishly gave the truest gift of Christmas and was chosen to light the village Christmas tree. And then I told the story of a baby boy's birth with the help of my grandchildren and, of course, I prayed a prayer of thanksgiving before opening gifts.

Our tradition is a very special one as we remember your son before we open our presents. The grandchildren always sit still listening to the story. In those precious moments we are like those shepherds and wise men who travel to the stable to see the infant child. We too bow down in awe of the wondrous event before we give gifts to one another. This is my favorite time of the day when we wander together following the light.

Beautiful Light
of Christmas,
we open
our hearts more
on this day.
We listen
to the story
because we actually
want to
hear it.
We want
to pause,
to remember
and reflect.
We want
to give thanks
and extend
our gratitude
because we recognize
the greatest gift
we shall
ever receive.
We want
to live
in the mystery,
the unfolding
of your
gracious agape love.
We like
finding ourselves
at the manger
peering over
the edge
seeing the baby
again.

Love, Andrea

Thursday, December 24, 2009

Dearest God,

I never know when or how you will reveal yourself in a unique, mystical way on Christmas Eve. This year you came to me in the worship service as the pastor leaned over to take a light from the Christ candle. Tears filled my eyes as one single thought went through my mind: You trust us to carry your light.

What a holy moment, a beautiful display of gracious love. Truly for me as an observer in the crowd, it was the moment when you came from heaven to give your best gift. As I watched the light passed from person to person, I realized that it was not just a Christmas Eve service, it was so much more. It was the continual passing of the light of your son. Each person was offered the light but also challenged to give the light to someone else. As we held our light up while we sang Silent Night, Holy Night, I reflected once again on the tremendous blessing that comes at Christmas, a true reminder that the light has come into the world and it is for all.

Thank you
for entrusting us
with your light,
Most Wondrous God.
How humbled
I am
when your light
comes to me;
what joy
I feel
when I
pass it on.

Loving you, Andrea

Wednesday, December 23, 2009

Dear God,

You are already sending gifts of Christmas to my home. Today truth arrived at my door. Although stinging I watched the freedom it brought.

Perhaps the best Christmas gifts of the season are not those that rest under the tree but rather those that come directly from heaven. These last few days several of heaven's best have come my way. My husband and I have received them together.

The gift of truth has been one of many such presents. I have also received understanding, discernment, wisdom, love, hope, peace and joy, all gifts I had not expected a few months ago.

I am learning more about heaven's finest. My faith has allowed me to peek into the windows of your home. I have gazed upon eternal joy, the kind that keeps erupting in the soul. And I have found myself teary, not due to hopelessness or despair, but rather from knowing the depths of grace. I am blessed.

Let Christmas come
all year long,
dear God.
Make my home
always ready
to receive you.
Keep my soul
on alert,
knowing that heaven
can come
at any time,
any way.
Then please,
fill me
with praise
for your
divine love.

Love always, Andrea

Tuesday, December 22, 2009

Dear God,

My grandchildren revolted as a group this year. Collectively they came at me with one message: "We want Frosty!" Like a scene out of the movie Christmas with the Kranks, they threatened to boycott my own Christmas Day activities if I did not bring out all my frosties placing them throughout my home.

When I announced several weeks ago that I wouldn't be putting out my frosties this year, six grandchildren simultaneously turned their heads toward me, sagged their faces, made bulging eye gestures and said: "Grandma, you have to put out the frosties!" "Grandma, if you don't put out the frosties, Christmas won't come." "Grandma, Santa won't come!" "It's tradition, Grandma, you have to put them out!" The other two just shook their head in agreement with the others. What could I do?

On Saturday as the same six grandchildren sat around my dining room table eating dinner with candles burning, frosties aglow, and snowy conditions just outside the window, I thanked them for their strict proclamation. I told them how these happy, smiling white creations have brought joy when I felt sad. They beamed.

One of the gifts this Christmas is the realization that you choose to come in whatever form you desire. While your message is always the same, your voice changes. Even the youngest can bring a discerning word of wisdom. My ability to listen and your willingness to speak has touched my heart deeply this year.

O Great God
of Heaven,
author of hope,
and word
of wisdom,
how my
heart rejoices
in you
this year.
Allow me please
to enter
the angelic chorus
in singing
your praise.

Love, Andrea

Monday, December 21, 2009

Dearest God,

As I consider the coming of Christ to earth again, I wonder how I can both receive him and give him away. These last few weeks have found me reopening my heart. You have taught me how a heart closed off for too long can lead to great disruption in the natural flow of life.

In the last few years you have opened doors and windows to my soul. With your breath spirit, you have blown away accumulated dust and debris, lots of debris. You have placed new curtains at my windows, a fresh layer of varnish to give shine, and you have not only rearranged the furniture, you have provided some new pieces. You have brought comfort, peace and joy to my spiritual home.

As I have trod lightly in unfamiliar places, you have blazed a new trail for me. You have given me a new old guidebook. You have shown me how I can trust you, myself and others. You have even sent me out with a backpack containing a bottle of living water, the guidebook, a spiritual and emotional compass, a prayer, and soul food. You have given me a Word to follow.

Blessed Lord,
the essence
of your spirit
leads me
to receive you
once again.
But I know
I cannot
hold you alone;
I must
share you
with the world.
How grateful
I am
to know you,
dearest God.
May my
own light
be a beacon
to you
and for others.

Love always, Andrea

Sunday, December 20, 2009

My dearest God,

This morning I sat in a long line of chairs in the back of the sanctuary. Grandchildren sat on both sides as we took up most of a row, all seven of us.

As I sat in my church home singing the songs of Advent and Christmas, I looked upon the faces of my beautiful grandchildren. They were well behaved singing and praying with me. Every moment was a sacred gift; yet, one stands out above all the rest.

As the pastor was preaching the morning message, my nine-year-old grandson leaned over to me and said, "Grandma, this is my first time in church." I grabbed hold of that boy and gave him a big squeeze. "I'm so glad to have you with me." I responded.

When I think of Christmas miracles, I count this one of them. I could not have imagined this grandchild with me at Christmastime, sitting in church singing Christmas carols. And yet, there he was along with his sister.

As I consider your miraculous work in the world, I realize what blessings come from it. I have to acknowledge your greatness and the wonder of your love come to earth. As I sang, "How silently, how silently the wondrous gift is given..." I gazed upon my grandchildren, especially my grandson and I felt the joy that only heaven can give.

In those moments
of special grace,
my faith
soars in gratitude;
for once again
I hear
the sound
of heaven's
baby boy.
And I realize
the reason
angels sing.

Love, Andrea

Saturday, December 19, 2009

My dearest God,

Six grandchildren, ages 4-9, converged upon our home yesterday. Five girls and one lone boy ran through the house, hollering and screaming, the sounds of joy that come with being with cousins.

After Christmas last year I bought them holiday aprons, chef hats and oven mitts. As they donned their new apparel, they made sugar cookies. Lucy used about a cup of frosting on one snowman. Various gum drops, red hots, colored sugar, and sprinkles of every variety were spread across the table and on the floor. My happy designers delightfully ate their artistic expressions.

As they lay in their sleeping bags watching Santa Buddies, I sat in the rocker breathing prayers of thanksgiving. I thought about their young lives and how blessed I am to share in their life journeys. This weekend we are making memories that will long live in my heart and I hope in theirs.

Decades have past
since I
spent time
in my own
grandmother's home,
dear God.
I remember well
the sights and sounds,
and the aroma
of breakfast cooking,
wafting its way
up the
hall stairs
to the
unheated upstairs bedroom
where we slept
with our cousins.
More than
five decades
have past
since that time.
However,
the most
beautiful part
of it all
is the way
in which
your hand
touched each generation.
You have
made us
for each other
and how blessed
we are.
Our joy
is the
eternal kind.

Love, Andrea

Friday, December 18, 2009

My dearest God,

You have shown me the star-studded scroll dropped from heaven to earth. Contained on the long list are earth happenings, miracles, mysteries, monumental healings and countless insights, revelations, and illuminations. They are all divine moments, sacred experiences where you have touched the lives of humans on this planet.

In the far reaches of deep dark space, your light shines, an aura of awe that puts human life into perspective. We are not at the center of creation. We are a part but we are not central. As I gazed upon this list finding my own name and events, I acknowledged once again your powerful presence, your remarkable grace and your extrordinary love.

What I realize is this: In the day-to-day events, I am able to call up this wondrous list, to explore the countless many ways you are present engaging us in our human struggle and celebration of life. It is not just so many words on a very long page but rather the intricate workings of the Divine. It is an account of your loving touch, your inspiring whispers, and your spectacular movements in history.

When I find myself moving toward doubt and fear, I know I need to pause, to take stock, doing an inventory of your spirit in my own life. I know I need to remember, to acknowledge and to confess my own vulnerable weakness. I know I need to cry out your name in praise first and then in petition always ending in glorious adoration.

You are God;
there is
no other.
When I contemplate,
I think
on you
and all
your doings.
I revel
in your grace,
bathe in
your hope,
rest in
your peace.
Store in
my memory
your glorious presence
that I
may become
a living testimony
of your life
in this world.

Loving you always, Andrea

Thursday, December 17, 2009

My dearest God,

Several weeks ago I felt a great spiritual explosion, a collision of prayers scattering light in every direction. If I were to paint the picture, it would be of a dark night sky and the sudden appearance of tiny white lights coming from all directions to one central location. The next picture would be the gathering of all the light together in the great darkness. The last image would be the scattering of more light in every direction. The coming of the light in the darkness, the brilliance of that light together and the incredible movement of light outward; all these speak to me of your light shining in prayer through others building more light in creation's darkness.

I saw it coming. I witnessed it in my mind. I knew some of the names of those who were praying. I gazed upon the loveliness of so many prayers in the form of tiny rays of light. I observed the great ball of light as it brought hope, love, peace, and quiet joy. I was overwhelmed in humility at the love expressed; bowled over by the power of individual prayers drawn together by what seemed to be one great magnet, you, O Lord, Master of the Universe.

How wondrous
is the activity
of your Spirit
at work,
Almighty God!
How spectacular
is love expressed
through your light.
How beautiful
it is
that we
are able
to carry
beams of
your light
into the darkness
to inspire,
to challenge,
to love,
to enrich
creation's deepest darkness.

In deep gratitude, Andrea

Wednesday, December 16, 2009

Dear God,

The unfolding of your wondrous plan deeply touches my soul. As I read the stories from scripture, I see how a divine pattern formed, leaving behind secrets of the universe.

Today's holy stories are being told. I told mine again yesterday. I am sharing your amazing work in my life. My story is being told because I am telling it. And the most beautiful part is that my story is really a retelling of yours. I only have a story because you have given me many opportunities to look in on forming glory.

Perhaps I am sentimental about the season. Maybe my life is so different now that I am seeing through a lens that is no longer cloudy. On the other hand perchance I am part of your divine plan unfolding and I am simply telling today's story. Someone else will tell theirs tomorrow and all the other tomorrows. I am privileged to carry the story today.

O Lord,
with a
softened heart,
clear eyes,
a strong back,
and feeling lighter
than ever before,
I feel
the sweet peace
of heaven.
With bitterness gone
and hurts removed,
I am living
a resurrected life,
letting grace
lead me.

To you all glory is given, Andrea

Tuesday, December 15, 2009

My dearest God,

This morning as I was waking up I remembered a little sing-song exercise I did as a child. My fingers were interwoven together and pointing to my chest as I said, "This is the church, this is the steeple, open the doors and see all the people." At the end all my fingers were revealed displaying every person.

I saw that plain as day this morning; only I saw it in the context of sin revisited. All the fingers uncovered represented all my sins. Sin revisited is sin not yet forgotten.

If you were to reopen every sin I had committed, disclosing every mistake I ever made, showing me and the world everything I have ever done wrong, my errors would be so many. I would feel the need to crawl away and hide in darkness forever. To remember every hurt, every untruth, every indiscretion of my life since I was born would be enough to break my heart forever just as my sin has done to others.

Yet, you also showed me how grace has been woven into every sin, how your forgiveness, mercy and compassion have changed their look providing liberation and freedom. Every time I stood before you, declaring my guilt, confessing my wrongdoing, you have inoculated my sin with a generous gift of grace, not because I was worthy but because your love is that big.

For a long time I remembered the sins of others, tenaciously holding on to them. I held them out for you to see. I wanted you to know how those sins had deeply hurt me. Time and time again you mercifully gazed into my eyes as if to say, "How long will you remember before you forgive?" "But Lord," I cried out. Your compassionate care remained with me but your gentle challenge reminded me that grace is infused into all, not just some.

Months ago when the doors to your radiant light opened, I was taken in. Your light embraced me in a way as never before. I felt enveloped in gentle, tender, self-giving love. I felt your light sweep into every dark place in my life. Held in the most incredible mercy I have ever known, your sweet grace was next, dripping down upon me from heaven on high. In the light of so great an agape, I saw my own sin, realized my own shortcomings. I heard the voices of my past crying out for forgiveness and then I ascertained, saw and felt an internal grace calling me home. I sat in a puddle of mercy remembering every grace offered, every sin forgiven, every compassion provided and I realized your deep love was not only for me but for those I had hurt and those who had harmed me. My tears streamed as if never ending.

That vision has persisted, never leaving me. Grace given, grace to be imparted to others.

Your grace
has saved me,
O Lord.
Teach me
to be
a grace giver
so that
sin healed
can be forgotten,
left to
creation's own
mysterious ways.

Love, Andrea

Monday, December 14, 2009

Dear God,

I had my own short line yesterday. As I prepared to leave the church after worship, several people noticed me in the back as I helped my granddaughters put on their coats.

It's been nine years since I left this church for another appointment. I was careful to leave wanting to pave a good way for the next pastor. I stayed away long after I needed to but I wanted to be supportive and affirming of my replacement.

I returned a week ago. It was wonderful to know where I was going to worship rather than thinking on Saturday night about the next church I would visit. Last week I was inundated with hugs. This week it was the same.

What I noticed these two weeks were the eyes of those who greeted me. They gazed on me like they were seeing me for the first time. With smiles spread across their faces, loving words spoken and arms outstretched, I felt as if I were looking into the eyes of angels for light twinkled in every eye. I sensed a divine presence like being in the company of heavenly beings.

I'm still mystified the day after, wondering about the meaning of angels unaware.

Your radiance glows
among your people.
The sights
and sounds
of eternity
are all
around me.
I give thanks
for what
I do not
quite understand,
always remembering
the sacred mystery
of heaven.

Love, Andrea

Sunday, December 13, 2009

Dearest God,

I was given a ticket to the Purdue Glee Club Christmas performance in Lafayette. In a packed house I listened to the young singers make their offering to God. Wrapped in choir robes amidst dimmed blue lighting I listened intently as they sang Silent Night, Holy Night. All of a sudden I found myself atop a mountain, just above the cloud line. I listened to the sounds of contented animals, a cow, a lamb and a donkey. I saw the golden hue radiating outward from the manger. I watched the movements of a newborn baby.

During the singing I found myself in various places: at Bethel United Methodist Church on Christmas Eve, the candles burning as we sang the old, familiar song, in a Living Nativity outdoors as I played a shepherd during Advent and sang, in my darkened living room except for the twinkling white lights on my Christmas tree at midnight on Christmas day watching the mass at the Vatican, standing on risers, wearing a choir robe singing the German tune, in 1997 as I stood by the back pew harboring breast cancer, allowing the tears of great joy to stream down my face, at my grandmother's church in Atlanta, Indiana on Christmas Eve and finally when I was a young girl in a reenactment of the nativity scene in a neighbor's home. In those precious, prized moments, I realized the deep meaning of salvation.

I thought of the countless times young and old have sung together the alleluias of heaven. I recounted wondrous mystical moments when the angel choirs sang the songs of faith. I gazed upon the faces of the young adults as they continued, "...wondrous star loves pure light, radiant beams from thy holy face with the dawn of redeeming grace..." And surely I thought again I heard the sound of a baby's soft cry.

Redeeming God,
save us
once again;
for our
minds forget.
Our hearts
long for what
we have lost.
Stir within us,
reaching deep down
for the
lost pieces
of faith.
Open our ears,
our eyes
and finally
our voices.
Set us free
to sing
once again.

Love, Andrea

Saturday, December 12, 2009

My dearest God,

In the darkness this morning I got lost. I thought I knew where I was going, that I had followed the road back to the main thoroughfare. But when I turned, there was only darkness, no light I remembered from the night before. I turned around. I took another left only to wind up in a cul-de-sac. I circled around and kept on going. I took a right and wound up on yet another unfamiliar road, darker than the first one. I looked down at my gauges and realized I was almost out of gas. The temperature gauge read 19 degrees. With a wind chill I was certain it was much colder.

Such an exercise brought to mind the times that I have lived through perilous experiences. I have spent a good deal of time in the darkness. I have lost my way, my sense of direction. I've been turned around, circling again and again at the same spot. I've found myself at dead ends. I've been cold, really cold and my resources have been depleted. I've not been sure I would make it.

Yet, my little trek home reminded me that perseverance, asking for help, trusting you, remaining calm and trying and trying again will eventually lead me home. Getting worried, crying, giving up on myself, becoming anxious and upset never help; in fact they only make things worse. Taking your hand in an uncertain time will always lead me to where I need to be.

Gracious Guide,
your way
is always
the way.
Trusting you
during disquieted moments
will get me
where I need
to be
when I need
to be there.
Teach me
to trust
every time.

Love, Andrea

Friday, December 11, 2009

Dearest God,

I stepped back inside a circle of friends after many, many months. Spending the last several months licking my wounds, recovering from many sorrows, making changes, some very dramatic and living in a state of continual prayer, I decided to join in a celebration. It felt good, very good.

I realize the ebb and flow of life requires adjustment, flexibility and a willingness to change. Staying the same is never an option. I have never found staying the same a steadying experience.

Yet, what I have discovered is the ability of the human soul to seek out the divine, the mystical, the unexplainable in order to find a new seat in the spiritual journey. What is life without this great inner movement? What ultimate value does life have if this piece of life is missing, discarded for something less, tossed out like yesterday's garbage? What do we really give our children if we entertain them, giving them money, clothes, a car, goodies, all the advantages, yet we don't model a life of faith where prayer, love, faith, worship and service is held in high regard at the center? What do they have when trouble comes?

As I have allowed you to define and refine the process of trust in my life, I realize my small amount of faith is never enough to hold my boat steady during stormy weather. Like yesterday's garbage, yesterday's trust is fizzled and gone, used up for yesterday's challenges. I must renew my devotion, my loyalty each morning and night in order to keep trust growing; for trust is the pathway to faith.

Loving God,
my soul
bears the print
of your hand.
I would
have drowned
if it were not
for faith,
trust,
your love
and grace.
I would have
gone down
into the
darkest deep
and never
returned to
the surface.
I would not
have found
life in
its fullest
without you.
I cannot live
as if you
do not exist.
If I
do not pray,
if I
do not worship,
if I
do not love,
if I
do not serve,
I act
as if
you do not exist.
I live selfishly.
I do not
live at your center.
Keep me fresh,
ever growing,
ever seeking,
ever trusting,
ever leaning,
ever learning,
ever faithing.

Love, Andrea

Thursday, December 10, 2009

My dearest God,

As I ponder the prescribed scriptures, I consider the writers, their moods and attitudes, their thoughts, questions, doubts and wonderings. What I love is their thoughtful praise.

As I read from Zephaniah, I realize I could have written those words because I have experienced those feelings. I have released those bursts of alleluia. I have witnessed your hand at work, your blessings, power and sacred presence. I have wanted to share your miraculous ways, your beautiful grace and unending compassionate mercy. I too have wanted to offer words of devoted thanksgiving to the birthing process of beauty in the developing atmosphere. I have wanted to fill creation with your goodness.

And so I did. I shared with my covenant group the collision, explosion, the coming together of hundreds of thousands of prayers, my own and many others who have prayed for me and my loved ones, how the doors opened, light flooding the space from top to bottom, side to side, and the ways in which grace spilled over me after the huge column of bitterness moved downward from my head, through my body and out my feet, dissolving into the light beneath me. I told them the truths you had revealed to me, how I was humbled, laid low and lifted to the heights all at the same time. They listened and watched me, their eyes filling to the brim, recognizing the wondrous grace I was talking about.

It was my brother Bill who remembered a declarative statement I made about family years ago when I participated in a year-long contininuing education event. He reminded me how I had committed myself to help change the course of my family history, how I wanted to break down the insidious fracturing power within our DNA tackling the generational ways of being. He told me how it had all come full circle, all those places of brokenness now mended into one fabric of unity. In recognition I allowed my tears of gratitude to flow and drip from my face just like the sweet drippings of grace poured down upon me.

I realized too how I had averted at the last moment yet one more breakdown that would continue to feed the ravenous bitterness that lived within our family, within me. Grace, my friends, I said, pure grace had been given to me.

I joined the writer of Zephaniah, the psalmists, the gospel writers, Sts. Paul and Peter, the prophets and many others who simply made their witness through the written word and oral history. I too shared the miracle ways of the Almighty, you my beloved God.

Let my praise
fly and soar
among the hopeless,
the despairing,
the lost
and frightened.
Open their eyes
to hope,
to love
and trust.
Pour out
your sweet grace
upon them,
return them home
to your bosom.
Strengthen their legs
so they can stand.
Infuse their arms
with power
to lift them
toward heaven.
Open their mouths
and fill them
with praise,
I ask,
O Lord,
that your world
may be filled
yet again
with glorious praise.

Love, Andrea

Wednesday, December 9, 2009

Dear God,

A few years ago I wrote you from the desert mountain. I shared about a shifting going on in my soul. I didn't know what was happening at the time; yet, I heard the call to trust.

What happened after that time is history. I had the single most meaningful spiritual renewal of my life. Day in and day out for more than four months I was bathed in grace-filled love. You showed me the incredible spiritual wonders of creation at every level. Some days, most days I was overwhelmed, so much so that I would whisper, "Slow down, Lord, I can't take it all in." You didn't stop.

Shortly after I came home I was struck with two very serious medical conditions. I was dropped low, so low that it was all I could do many days to get out of my bed and walk to the bathroom. I grew weaker every day, sometimes not able to speak above a whisper. It took more than a year to determine what was wrong and to find and regulate medicines that would keep me on an even keel. But it wasn't over.

My church had experienced, was experiencing its own spiritual renewal. Hope came to life, joy returned, a desire to move forward welled up within people. Yet, it was a fragile time. Big decisions had to be made in order to produce a future for the congregation. In addition since I was the first female pastor in 164 years, I felt the weight of women who would come after me. My marriage fell to the rocks; a close friendship collapsed. Suddenly, I felt as if I were carrying the weight of the world. And I carried it all for the next three plus years.

During that time I drew from the well you had filled during my renewal. Ladle after ladle of water quenched my thirst for understanding, help, support, affirmation, love, wisdom and more. Daily I stood at the well, filling my bucket, crying out for help. I felt your presence every day; yet I continued to carry the crushing weight.

When things got worse and my ability to carry the burdens lessened, I finally came to a breaking point. I felt, saw death before me. My health was breaking down under the weight. I finally looked death in the face. I waited to see if it would claim me.

Remarkably at those breaking points you spoke to me, sang bits and pieces of hymns; you ushered me into heavenly places, showered me with grace, took my hand, whispered hope. When my hope was shattered, I asked particular persons to carry a vision of hope for me until I was able to carry the vision for myself. What gifts they offered me.

When I finally relented, falling under the spell of brokenness, I surrendered myself into your hands. With a broken heart and a broken back, I grabbed hold of the hem of your garment. I cried out every anguishing sorrow. I had lost my peace and my joy. I held on to the one thing I could count on...my faith. Although my well nearly dried up, I still knew where to go for a drop of water. I drank and trusted from my bed.

It is now nearly four years since my life's greatest struggle began. Today I realize how much has changed, how much I have changed. I have learned so many life lessons, too many to count. I have been humbled, drawn down. I have sought help from others. I have been refined, my faith shaken and strengthened at the same time. I have learned about trust as life's greatest pathway to salvation. I have discovered open doors and a new landscape. I have watched my life's deepest darkness roll into a light ever deeper. I have found a ground upon which to stand. I let my roots down. I have trusted like never before because my whole world was rapidly changing. I let go only to reclaim myself in a new and different way. I woke up to new realizations, accepted revealed truths, took responsibility, became more transparent, found greater resources and walked, no at times crawled in faith. I whispered your name thousands of times.

And so today in the middle of Advent, I am acknowledging the meaning of the season in my bones. I too am anticipating, waiting for this birthing process to come to its natural conclusion. My brother told me just yesterday that he is watching the return of my joy.

Guide me,
O Great Jehovah,
to joy,
not the
temporal place
of happiness
but rather
to that
eternal place
where joy
continuously bubbles up.
Keep praise
on my lips
that I
may ever
give you praise.
Let my heart
beat in rhythm
with yours
that I
may sense
eternity's joy
and then allow
that same joy
to spill over
into creation.

With a grateful heart, Andrea

Tuesday, December 8, 2009

Dearest God,

Perseverance, one of my life lessons this year has been about perseverance. I have learned to persevere during hard times.

On Sunday after church I had to take down every string of lights that hugged my roof line. I had put the icicle lights up on the coldest day. On my rickety ladder, sometimes I leaned left and then right as the ladder feet stood on uneven ground. My hands were freezing but I persevered. For some reason when I came to the end, there was no female plug to connect to the extension cord. Both ends were male plugs. What a dilemma.

So today after church I pulled them down keeping them all connected and placed them down my hallway into the living room over the couch and back out to the hall. I went over every strand trying to figure out where I went wrong. I soon figured it out, turned some of the strands around and went back outside to hang them a second time.

There would have been a day where this simple exercise would have driven me mad. I would have been so frustrated, so agitated that I may have decided to give up thinking there was no way out. However, during many months you have shown me a better way. You have taught me patience, something difficult to master. Patience has made life easier, so much easier because I have learned to persevere.

You are forever
teaching me
life lessons,
O Lord.
More often
than not,
I do not
want to
learn them.
However,
you never
give up
on me.
You whisper
the better way,
always reminding me
that you
know more
than me.
As I feel
the humbling sting
I can
finally acknowledge
your will
is always best.
I may not
always get
what I want
or get it quickly
but as
I trust you
to show me,
to lead
and guide me,
I will receive
the gifts
you deem good
for me.
Teach me,
dear Lord,
the better way.

Love, Andrea

Monday, December 7, 2009

Dear God,

This morning I read the December newsletter from the Monastery of Our Lady in the Desert. One line lifted from the page. "Do not be afraid." Do not be afraid.

How many times have your angels brought me that message? How many times have I heard those exact words? How many times were my fears quelled by that message of hope, courage and faith? More than I can count.

Fear has been with me since I was a child. When I am in an unfamiliar place in my journey, fear reminds me of her nearness. When I feel lost, fear speaks to me. When I have to do something very hard, fear speaks on my behalf.

At the same time faith has been even closer, no matter the situation. When fear threatens, my faith kicks in reminding me whose I am, what I believe, what ticks inside me, and where I stand in trust. Faith lightens my load, gives me hope, infuses me with courage, wraps me in love and and sometimes makes me laugh at myself. Faith is my closest friend.

Indeed, do not be afraid. As I move ever more deeply into my future, I am carrying these words with me.

I am grateful
for faith,
dearest Christ.
I am indebted
to you
for the power
and strength
that faith provides.
Thank you
for every angel
who has appeared
to me
bearing messages
of joy
and peace.
You are God
of every hope.

Love, Andrea

Sunday, December 6, 2009

Dear God,

All these months I have searched for a church home. In my wanderings I have found great refuge and comfort in the Catholic Church. The ritual, the gestures, the structure, and the liturgy have sustained me. I have been so very grateful.

Today as I awakened and thought about where I would fellowship, I immediately knew where I was to go. I even knew who I was to sit with. I invited my grandchildren to go but they were with cousins. I had to go alone.

As I drove into the parking lot, I felt at home. I looked for familiar faces inside cars as they drove by. When I got to the greeters, one man recognized me. He looked so surprised and pleased. He grabbed hold of me and gave me a big hug. And so it went in the next fifteen minutes before church, one person after another welcomed me, holding out their hand or wrapping me in their arms. They looked me over like I was a memory of the past. Their warm smiles and gracious words spoke volumes to me.

When I found the prayer warrior I was to sit with, she smiled a big smile as I sat down beside her. I patted her 80+ year-old hand as she held the hearing aid device with her other hand. We smiled at one another.

As the service unfolded, I gazed upon the beautiful Christmas tree bedecked with delicate, elegant angels I had bought with memorial funds all over Indianapolis. I grinned as my eyes paused upon the intricately woven blue needlework rendition of the nativity scene that had been unused for years and I remember hanging it for the first time and how celestial it appeared. Tears welled in my eyes as they fell upon the five ceramic chalices on the altar that I carried in my backpack from the Holy Land. Truly, I was at home, at last.

I love you,
dearest God.
What would
my life
be like
without you?
I have felt
your hand
upon my back
nudging me
along my
life journey.
I have felt
your hand
upon my heart,
holding all
the broken pieces
until one
great mending
began to
take place.
I have felt
your hand
upon my brow
when I
was too weak
to stand.
I have felt
your hand
upon my feet
as you moved
one foot
in front
of the other.
I was
never alone.
And today
we celebrated Advent
together
in the
United Methodist Church.
Glory to you,
Gracious God,
on High.

Love, Andrea

Saturday, December 5, 2009

My dearest God,

Learning to remain steady when doubt threatens is a real challenge for me, dear God. Yet, simultaneously you bring to my mind another time when holding the course was your strong call to me. Only then doubt loomed large like one great genie released from his bottle. Daily, sometimes several times daily I heard your whisperings. "Hold steady. Keep your eye straight ahead. Chart the course. Don't oversteer too far to the left or to the right."

At this moment nothing so large as the church is at stake. However, in my personal life, the stakes are high. Throughout these last months I have experienced many life lessons. You have set me down and taught me as the great teacher. Although many of the lessons were difficult and painful, I listened and learned. I am applying my learnings to my present life.

Listening, learning and leaning seem to be three valuable characteristics of a person trusting you. If I listen and learn then I will just naturally lean toward you, anticipating your guiding word and your guiding hand nudging me forward. As I take those steps of faith, I recognize how important it is to remain steady even when I feel a bit shaky.

As I return to days gone by where I followed your leading, I can now celebrate the wondrous grace involved in the whole process. I can look back to the troubled waters at the church and how our boat was caught in a storm. I remember how we began to take on water and things looked grave. But when I heard your voice and remembered my own calling at the helm, I trusted you, listened, and followed you until the sun shone once again. In my remembering, I find strength for today.

Guide me,
Great Captain.
Teach me,
O Great Teacher.
My life
is in
your hands.
And so are
my wonderings.
I am yours,
O Lord,
I am yours
forevermore.

Love, Andrea

Friday, December 4, 2009

Dearest God,

I have had such a hard time figuring out where to put things. The basement has been a disaster for months. The furnace room (aka camping room) is so cluttered. Every time I think about working downstairs I feel a bit overwhelmed. Where do I put things? I frequently ask myself.

This morning when I walked down the steps to get something from the basement my eyes fell on the outdoor furniture, camping tents, canning supplies, and paint cans. Suddenly, I leaned over and picked up a patio chair. I carried it to the corner. Within 30 minutes I had opened the pathway into the furnace room. I had put away the canning supplies, reorganized the camping stuff, changed the furnace filter, stacked the boxes of jars, removed old paint cans and emptied the trash. Wow! I was like a whirlwind. It was so easy.

Another life lesson I have learned in recent months is this: When life gets hard and the pieces of your life seem lost and in disarray, hold steady, pray hard, listen attentively, trust God, be willing to adapt and eventually the pieces will find their way back home. They will look different; they will be different. But still there will be a place for everything. There will be a lot of adjustment and you have to prepare yourself for change.

I just couldn't tackle all the stuff downstairs (I have a lot more); I was too overwhelmed. Yet, as pieces of my personal life began to come together more and more as I trusted you more and more, the easier it was to step forward, to take the challenge to make the changes. As I happily worked downstairs, I realized the ease with which I did the work was amazingly connected to trusting you to lead me in life changes.

Nothing is
easy and simple
during active
life changes.
I have learned
this truth
from you.
As I
leaned in
and listened,
as I trusted
and followed,
being obedient
to the call
to change,
I have found
my way.
I have been entering
new places
for the
last several years.
The unfamiliar visitation
frightened me.
I lost
my way.
I lost
my rudder.
I felt adrift,
simply floating
on stormy waters
completely dependent
upon whichever direction
the wind blew.
What I discovered
this morning
is the wind
is settling down;
the sun
is shining
on my sea.
In the distance
I see
the shore.

Loving you for amazing grace, Andrea

Thursday, December 3, 2009

Dear God,

I know Advent so well. I know about waiting, anticipating. I know how to not rush or push ahead or get anxious. I know that waiting is an important aspect of the spiritual life. I remember when the psalmist spoke, "Be still and know I am God." I know there is an element of pausing, being reverent, listening, waiting, anticipating meeting with the sacred. I know how to stop and wait.

Waiting is hard. It feels risky. Yet, I am not the one great leader here. I get my orders from you. I don't get next week's word until next week. I get today's message today, not tomorrow's today.

During my waiting time, I am learning to pray more often. This praying is leading me to trust more deeply. Trusting is teaching me patience. And patience is causing me to be more still, to be silent, to listen, to contemplate. Perhaps my waiting time will end with a quiet word. If I am not silent and listening, I will miss it. I will fail to achieve what I had hoped for. I will miss the wondrous event.

O God,
help me see
the ways
in which
waiting is
a gift.
Remind me
why I wait.
Whisper to me
the need
for waiting.
Teach me
all I need
to know
to be faithful,
I pray.

Love, Andrea

Wednesday, December 2, 2009

My dearest God,

I lost my ability to communicate. For some reason I couldn't speak the language any more. No matter how hard I tried I didn't know the nouns, verbs, adverbs and adjectives of the English language. I couldn't get my point across and I could not understand the other.

I have traveled to many parts of the world and for the most part I could not speak the language. I could not communicate with people of other cultures and nations. We could not communicate with one another.

Lord, I know there is a language that lovers speak, that parents and children speak to each other, that spouses speak and friends speak to one another. Each knows the special codes like when parents want to convey to children that they need to settle down at a restaurant or a spouse does a particular gesture to communicate his or her love to their partner. They speak a common language.

When I lost my ability to speak a common language, it was a terrible feeling. It was like I didn't know the words or how to use them, how to string them in a sentence that made sense. I have always used my hands when I spoke and even my hands lost their way.

Because I know how difficult it is to lose the ability to communicate, it is nearly miraculous to recover the ability. Recently I found my language. I not only know how to speak it, I understand it when someone else speaks to me.

At times, O Lord, I have lost my ability to pray, to talk to you about others, to lift names to heaven. I have even had difficulties understanding you when certain things happened, like when I lost my capacity to speak and to listen, to understand and be understood. In those moments I couldn't make any sense of my world.

But I am speaking again and understanding. I am listening, catching the nuances and the meaning. I am giving thanks in a new old way.

Thank you,
Gracious God,
for the ability
to listen,
to hear,
to understand
and then
to speak,
and be understood.
I am
so grateful,
Loving God
for this
act of grace.

Love, Andrea

Tuesday, December 1, 2009

My dear God,

I am enjoying some prized moments of hope. In my hope, I experience love's freedom. With no holdovers from the past, I am allowing myself the joy that erupts in trust.

What I have discovered is that hope grounded in trust can lead to a new life. There is a freedom that comes, a liberation to act differently, to let go of yesterday's dismal disappointments and to take hold of generous possibilities for today and tomorrow.

I am experimenting in newness of life. I am taking steps of faith, rewarding myself with hope, courage, joy and even peace. I laugh more easily. I take less offense at something said that really has nothing to do with me. I am shedding the ability to hold on to hurts as they happen. I am letting go. God, that felt good just to say that!

All of this comes as I trust you to lead my life. When new doors swung open more than two months ago revealing truths hidden from my eyes, I have acted and have been astounded by what I have found.

I must confess that I had built a fortress around my heart. I had forged vast spaces out of that rock to carefully keep in place all my bitterness and resentment. I had held on to it honestly believing that it would shield me from further hurt. Strange, isn't it, such faulty thinking. On the other hand, how much hurt can a person endure?

As the light shined out of the space created by those open doors, I drew in a breath of wonderment. I cried for a long time both because of my appreciation of new grace given and also my own sense of responsibility for past sins I had not seen. Realizing my own inability to receive forgiveness and impart it caused me to want to hide myself from you. Yet, that was the last thing you wanted from me. And so I bowed down, literally and wept like a baby holding truth close to my soul. I came to the realization that this was the truth that could set me free just like Jesus said.

And so a miracle happened. While weeping my tears, my bitterness dissolved just like that in a quick blink-of-the-eye moment. It was suddenly gone. The light in the doorway entered my being and I felt lighter than I have felt in years.

There is so much I don't know about you, so much I still need to learn. Yet, what I came to understand in that God-given moment is that your love is so deep and wide and has every name on the earth written upon it.

You shine
your light
on us
every day,
Precious Lord.
You want
to reveal
the truth
to us
that can change
our lives.
You are
constantly transforming
the creation
and God,
I am
so grateful.

Love, Andrea

Monday, November 30, 2009

My dearest God,

Who can read the future? Who can give assurance for the future?

So often I want my prayers to become the stuff of tomorrow. I want my prayers, especially for others, to unfold as a reality in the future. Today I want to see yesterday's prayers unfold because in my mind they will usher in hope, peace and beauty.

Why do I pray? Why do I ask for specifics like healing, unity, love, forgiveness, new vision? I want to change the world scene. I want joy for someone ailing with a broken heart. I want peace for others whose hearts are restless, unsettled and chaotic. I want hope for another whose hope has dissolved with the milk in the cereal bowl. I pray because I want the world changed around me.

I know I cannot change the world, not even events and situations around me. My love, faith, courage and will are not powerful enough to shift someone else's life, sometimes not even my own. Yet, my desire to pray, my care for another's pain, my hope for change coupled with a strong belief that prayer can change things inspires me to pray, believing.

I believe there is an element of possible transformation in my own life as I pray. As I take responsibility and live out of love's possiblities, I open myself to change, to become more caring and loving, more accountable to reach out to my neighbor and my loved one. I give you a silent nod to renew my own faith and trust in you when I pray and in my praying I join forces with all others who are praying to adjust a world filled with ills and ails.

I am the future when I pray today because I partner with you when I utter the name of someone else, including myself. My act of trust somehow spreads faith into the universe and grace has room to grow. The future is the stuff of yesterday infused with timeless power from on high. Why need I worry?

O God,
when my
own hope
runs shallow,
when my
faith grows weary,
when my
trust falters,
and I stumble
due to lack
of courage,
remind me
I have
a significant part
to play
in the future.
My belief
in you,
in your ability
to change things
and your
gracious love
can aid
in making
your loving power
visible in
the world.
Hold my feet
to love's ability
to reveal
your truth,
your grace
and compassion,
I pray.

Love, Andrea

Sunday, November 29, 2009

My dearest God,

Today I returned home to the United Methodist Church. I could not imagine not being home for Advent.

There is something about the liturgy around Advent that speaks to me about the upcoming birth of a Savior yet again. I remember being at Grandma's church when I was a girl. She was a Methodist all her life, all 82 years. Every year Advent and Christmas get all tied up with my grandmother, her faith, her worship, her home, our family, my own devotion. When I went home on Sunday, all those momentous experiences came together for me.

Some days I wonder about my faith, if I have enough, if I am faithful enough, if I trust enough, if I lean on you enough. Of course, I know the answer is no, I do not. Yet, I frequently "check" myself bydoing a spiritual assessment. Advent helps me in this important exercise.

As I sat in church this morning, I breathed in the air of expectancy especially as we sang the final song, Come Thou Long-Expected Jesus. I realized I was ready to receive Christ again, not as a baby in a manger but as Savior of yesterday, today and tomorrow.

Come, O Lord,
I welcome you
into my heart
once again.
I acknowledge
there are times
when I
clutter my
soul space
with worry,
anxiety, fear
and doubt,
thereby leaving
no room
for you.
Check me
and double check me
as I
accept my
own unwillingness
to keep open
the space
in my heart
carved out
just for you.
Help me
open more
and more
of myself
to you,
I pray.

Love, Andrea