Hope Has Wings

"Hope is the thing with feathers that perches in the soul and sings the tune without the words and never stops at all..."  Emily Dickinson published this poem in 1861, but its words seem to ring truer than ever today, as we prepare to welcome in a New Year. Whatever difficulties we have faced this past year, whatever challenges we have overcome (or want to overcome), hope is the thing that gives us wings to rise above what is weighing us down.

At holiday time, we often give and receive cards that express wishes for peace, joy and hope.  Beautiful wishes for sure, yet not always easy to realize in the day-to-day struggles that many of us find ourselves wading through. These ideals can often seem unattainable, especially when we are experiencing challenging times.

When we are going through periods of grief, depression, illness, or this seemingly never-ending pandemic, we need to hold onto a vision of the future that is brighter than the darkness that can engulf us at such times.

Sure, it's important to stay in the present moment, to keep our feet firmly planted on the ground and to be thankful in every circumstance. But hope is the stuff dreams are made of; it is what gives us strength to go on when our present moment is painful or just dull and routine.

It can be really difficult to have hope in the midst of hard times if we are relying on our own finite resources.

But when we turn within and ask the Source of our being for all these things and more, we find the key that unlocks the door to peace and joy in the present, and hope for the future.   

So in this moment, whether you are going through a tough time or sailing through on the crest of a wave, take some time to pause, breathe deeply, and give thanks for what is. In the silence, may you find peace, joy and hope sufficient for today.

"But those who hope in the LORD will renew their strength. They will soar on wings like eagles; they will run and not grow weary, they will walk
and not be faint"  -Isaiah 40:31

A Simple Gift

 The man standing outside the church door was shivering and his eyes implored me as he asked, "did I miss the meal? I didn't know what time it was..." 

Tom and I were on our way out after helping to serve meals to about 80 poor and homeless people on this December day. The doors had been locked for several minutes after the usual Sunday meal that the downtown Rochester church provided, but I could not let this man go away empty handed. I went back inside and asked for one more takeout meal. As I handed him the meal, he thanked me profusely and looked at me with kind, soulful eyes. Such a simple gift, this exchange...a meal for a look into someone's soul. My heart broke for him and I uttered a silent prayer for his protection.

We came home to our warm, cheery house with its Christmas lights, festive tree and fireplace and I thought again of this man. Where did he go?  Did he have a home?  I felt so enormously grateful for all the comforts and blessings that we take for granted, but at the same time, a deep sadness welled,

for I had looked into the man's eyes, felt his suffering, and was powerless to help. I thought of the others who came in for a meal -- the woman who walks around with all her belongings in a cart and loves to sit for as long as possible, savoring the warmth and food. The man who is so polite and kind, always profusely expressing his gratitude to the volunteer servers. I always wonder about them as I pray: What are their stories? How did they get where they are in life? What can I do other than serve them a meal, offer a kind word and a smile?

I don't know the answers to these questions, of course, but maybe if I keep asking, rather than pretending I don't see as I've done before in my life, the answers will be revealed.

As we draw closer to Christmas Day and frantically try to finish all the last minute holiday preparations, I hope that each one of us finds time to pause, be silent, and reflect on the beautiful blessings that we often take for granted. My meditation for today is that our hearts would be fully opened to share the simple gifts of compassion, kindness and love, not only with our families, but with those in our communities who may be lost and alone.

Bittersweet Memories

 Christmastime can be bittersweet for those of us who've lost loved ones. The joy and beauty of the season can sometimes be overshadowed by our pain. Grief  can sneak up on you and overwhelm you at unexpected moments, because those special people who have left the earth never really leave our hearts.

My mother passed away six years ago in January. The last month I spent with her before she went into the hospital and never left was a very special, yet deeply painful time. I took a leave of absence from work and stayed with her and my father at their home as she slowly died of cancer. 

I decorated their home, baked cookies, and helped my mother write her last Christmas cards. I bought little gifts to give to her neighbors and the people who came by to visit and help in any way they could. We watched Hallmark Christmas movies together, crying at their sentimental plot-lines. We prayed together, which gave us some peace, but did not bring healing, something I had to learn to accept in time.

Every Advent season, I revisit those memories and find that the pain never really goes away.  It is a part of me now, woven into the fabric that is the tapestry of my life. I guess I don't want it to go away, because, I realize as I grow older, that life itself is joy and pain, dark and light, beauty and ugliness.  It's all part of the wonderful, amazing, sometimes terrifying roller coaster ride that is life.  

I am deeply thankful that I had that last month with my mother, even though it makes me sad to think of it and to realize how much I will always miss her physical presence. She was the heart of our family and her memory lives on in her children and grandchildren. Her spirit lives on forever, of this I am sure!

For all of us who approach this season with bittersweet memories, my prayer today is that we would embrace all the joy and all the pain, allowing it to flow through us.... letting go of what we need to in order to move on, but holding the best part in out hearts.

Baby Steps

 Have you ever watched a one year old child take his or her first steps?  He or she steps hesitantly at first, wobbling from side to side, taking two or three steps and falling down. The child may cry and revert to crawling for a bit, but will try again and again until the steps are mastered.  Though he or she may continue to fall, there is a fierce determination to be upright and mobile, able to explore the world from a new and very exciting vantage point. She has been observing the world for a whole year, frustrated by her inability to move, watching and learning from the actions of those larger and more capable than herself. Now the child is ready to realize the vision that she has held in her mind for so long!

What a great lesson on determination for us all.

If you think about it, this process repeats itself over and over throughout the course of our lives. Learning to talk, riding a bike, developing social and academic skills; all require observing and thinking first, followed by doing when the time is right.

I remember when my son was learning to ride a bike...my husband took the training wheels off and pushed him down the street for days until one morning Jeff woke up and said "Dad, I can do it now- I had a dream about riding by myself and I know I can do it!".  Sure enough, he took right off and rode right down the street with a big grin on his face!

We may get to a point in our lives where we've lost the ability or the will to dream and feel we no longer have the vision to expand our horizons, to learn and grow. We may become complacent or frustrated by our circumstances and find ourselves in a state of inertia, stuck in a "rut" and feeling unable to change. Or we may have a vision, but not know how to get from A to B.  The steps to get there may seem daunting or near impossible. But if, rather than give up, we hold onto the vision and take one or two baby steps in the right direction, perhaps we will wake up one morning and say, "yes! I see it now; the way is clear; I can do it!"

On this gray, drizzly December morning, may we part the clouds with our minds to see the blue sky and sunshine, may we use our imagination and vision to expand our horizons as we pray for guidance and strength, taking baby steps toward
the world of our dreams.