Mary Oliver Poem

One day you finally knew
what you had to do, and began,
though the voices around you
kept shouting
their bad advice--
though the whole house
began to tremble
and you felt the old tug
at your ankles.
"Mend my life!"
each voice cried.
But you didn't stop.
You knew what you had to do,
though the wind pried
with its stiff fingers
at the very foundations,
though their melancholy
was terrible.
It was already late
enough, and a wild night,
and the road full of fallen
branches and stones.
But little by little,
as you left their voices behind,
the stars began to burn
through the sheets of clouds,
and there was a new voice
which you slowly
recognized as your own,
that kept you company
as you strode deeper and deeper
into the world,
determined to do
the only thing you could do--
determined to save
the only life you could save.
-Mary Oliver

Liturgy: Breathing Prayer

Liturgy: Breathing Prayer

by Christine Sine

Inhale: Breathe on us, Spirit of God
Exhale: Fill us deep within
Inhale: Speak to us with the language of our hearts
Exhale: Speak to us in ways we can understand
Inhale: Breathe in us, Spirit of God
Exhale: Fill us with new life
Inhale: Teach us the language of love
Exhale: Teach us the ways of compassion
Inhale: Breathe through us, Spirit of God
Exhale: Fill us with kingdom ways
Inhale: Send us out to do your will
Exhale: Send us out to transform our world

Breathe on us, breathe in us, breathe through us.

Connected...

"While there is a lower class,
I am in it,
While there is a criminal element,
I am of it,
While there is
a soul in prison
I am not free."
- Eugene Debs 1855-1926

... CONNECTED...

Hope is like a road in the country;
there was never a road,
but when many people walk on it,
the road comes into existence.
- Lin Yutang

The slow learning of hope...

As I haved walked past the motel next to me over the past few weeks, i have heard kids playing in the little bitty space of concrete between the motel and the sidewalk. I have seen their eyes peer through the fence as i walk past, fingers sticking through, and laughter echoeing. A number of times I have tried to talk with them through the fence, but, as good little kids are taught- "don't talk to strangers!" :)
Yesterday, i decided to go over to the motel and introduce myself to this family. I had a great excuse... 4 free tickets to the IMAX theater downtown, so i fugured that would make me a bit more approachable! So-, sure enough, i rounded the corner and saw a little girl sitting inbetween the fence and her motel... she was soo stinkin cute! I asked her if her mommy or daddy or grandma/grandpa were home? And within a matter of seconds 7 people surfaced out of the dark hotel room, TV blaring- into the beautiful sun-lit day. I introduced myself as their neighbor, gave them the tickets and asked if they wanted to come play in the garden. Then i left...
no more than 15 minutes later, the three kids and their mom came over to the house and we played together in the garden for hours. I pray it is the beginning of a friendship that will bridge love and dignity, hope and opportunity to this family that is homeless (they live in a truck outside our house...they just use the motel to go to the bathroom).
The timing was ridiculous, as this week, our church recieved a grant to help enable homeless famlies to defeat the evil of the housing obstacle of paying first and last months rent (this IS what keeps most homeless people homeless!) Soo- please join us in praying for this family, that we may journey with them well....

Here is a poem that I wrote in reflection to yesterday:

The little boy said, "mommy, look!"
as he pointed
to the icon of Jesus that hangs on our wall.
You are recognizable...

to the homeless.

The man reached out his hand
squeezed mine
as he said
he wanted "to go to the arms of God"...

to the dying.

The cross swung back and forth
around his neck,
17, sczhiophrenic,
a "teddy bear one moment, beast the next"...

to the lame.

They live, 5 of them,
in a van.
3 children, 2 adults.
night time bathroom breaks are "interesting"...

she says.

They laugh as they 'pop'
open the baby pine cones to see what lies within...
Star and I gaze at one another,
Me- in awe, Her- at ease...

You are recognizable.

The poor show us the hope
that we left at the alter,
with all our crimson
and gold

we took home only the crumbs of your bread.

We merely sip of your blood.
Our gratitude, for what...a slosh?
We sleep warm, we worry much...
while ever still watching those birds in our feeders...

Yet, in YOU they trust... in YOU they are found.

Our backyard went from being a backyar to being a Community Garden!

Hi everyone! well- it has been quite the week already! I am so bummed b/c i am longing to share with you our pictures of the community garden that over 20 people helped to create in our backyard this past Sunday but I can't get the pictures to download! :( STAY TUNED... FOr now, here is a new poem i wrote in reflection of our time:

Memory of the Trees

The morning dew
reflects the memory
of the night sky

stars brightly glittering


Each blade of grass
a family member
in the world of things


blows ever so gently


Birds pluck the petals
that fall to the grass
a new days watering.

Sing us your song...
the sweet one that
arouses our toes to tap

and our pious laws
to clap
and embrace the one

we turn our backs on.

Hello all.... I thought that today I would share a poem with you that I wrote about 6 months ago... I wrote it about my dad and me.

Its as if I saw

His last breath fly

-out into the universe

I saw it in the stars

In the wind it gently

-Evokes my tears

it slipped through my hands

as I leaned in to kiss it

- now I chase it

tackling the slow

melancholies of

-my memories

what was is now

as the child in me

-reaches out to grab

and push the breath

back in

-that it may never end

shoved down my throat

is the ache

-that is building its castle

it crumbles on me

while I search

-to find the remnants

of the picture

before it was ripped

-my tongue cries out

I lick each torn piece

Hands shaking

To put it back together

The gaze

Of each face before me

-Envelops my body

Lifts it to the moon

Where light thins into darkness

And the breeze brings me back

-my breath….

Temma's Marriage

This is a poem that I wrote today as i was reflecting on how hard it is for me to sometimes accept the love of my husband and the love of my God. This is what came out of me as I grappled with this today. I speak of a girl named Temma in it- it's funny because I just can not seem to rid myself of her. I was first introduced to Temma by my friend, Matt about 6 months ago. Temma is the daughter of a famous artist named Tim Lowry. Temma is both physically and mentally impaired and has had to live in this vegatable like state all of her life. Now in her mid 20's, Tim and his wife continue to be the sole caregivers to their adult daughter. Tim experiances his daughter, Temma to be his modern day Mary as in all that he creates, she is his muse. She is in every one of his paintings- often with life happening all around her. Temma has become my modern day Mary too. Today I pictured her at a table with God eating- she looked so angelic as she reached across the table to grab a strawberry. As she did that, I pictured myself under the table scraping up crumbs and then scurring over to a corner to eat of them Butm then Temma held up a mirror to my face and showed me who i was, then i was beckoned to the table to join them, where Temma handed me a strawberry and Jesus washed my feet. Hoe often i feel that it is my job to wash God's feet as i don't allow him to love me... this picture overwhelmed me beyond words...and this is the poem that came from all this...

Please takea moment to check out Tim's work and meet Temma...I pray that she touches your face as she does mine so often : http://www.timlowly.com/resources/temmaonearth.html



TEMMA'S MARRIAGE


The crumb has fallen
it is my feast
in the corner

where I hide

he beckons me to
join...
strawberries dipped in chocolate

disjointing
only knowing
how to pour oil on his feet

wipe with my tears

she sits next to him
his shining muse, Temma
mirror in hand

my face calling back

to allow his kiss
tenderly
to wet my feet

as i suckle sourly-sweet red delights...
cock my head back with laughter
to heavy to hold...