Love Letters From God... From May-into June's Moon
Blessed New Moon!
May into June is the moon that holds the deep holiday of Pentecost (see Holy Spirit image above), or White (Whit) sunday. And after that feastday early this moon its kind of a quiet moon in a way. In fact, after Pentecost begins "Ordinary Time" (one of two ordinary time seasons of the liturgical year). And yet the ordinary as we know is deeply sacred, the sacred ordinary. In fact, june is the month for honoring the sacred hearts of Jesus and Mary. Though that jumps slightly ahead of this moon, as those two honoring days are tomarrow and the next day respectively. But still, all of june is kind of a "heart month" in general, being a traditional time for weddings.
In fact, the word honeymoon is inspired by this moon, as one of the traditional names for this moon is the "honey moon". From here: "There is an old song that has the line "Honey moon, keep a'shinin' in June" and the familiar term "honeymoon" comes from the song or is related to the same idea (June weddings, one would suppose). But just exactly what is a "*honey* moon" anyway?"And one answer she got was "Brewers claims it is from the practice of the ancient Teutons of drinking honey-wine (hydromel) for thirty days (a moon) after marriage." That's all i could really find on this moon being the "honey moon". But i cant help but think of the Song of Solomon (4:11) connecting honey and love, "Thy lips, O my spouse, drop as the honeycomb: honey and milk are under thy tongue". This moon is also a time of themes of birth, the feast day for the visitation of Mary and Elizabeth was this moon.
At any rate, i'd say this has been a "heart moon" for me in a sense. In the sense of trying to get closer to the heart of things. Near the moon's beginning i found out i had to move again (see other blog), and it got me longing so deeply for Alaska, the place my fiance and i hope to eventually settle. It doesnt look like we'll be moving there quite yet (though he is there half the year working, which makes the separation hard). But even though i may not be moving there yet, i was SO excited at the thought, ready to just drop everything and go. And i later realized that the excitement and draw was also for a deeper reason...
All my life i've been drawn to the traditional inuit, and even more so to the pre inuit dorset culture, and to the original siberian cultures they all came from. There is a certain simplicity that happens when your natural world is more blended in tone, when your possesions are relatively few, when your art is on your everyday things, and when your needs are so at the surface. The important things become the hearth, warm arms, mates, children, meals, nature, prayer, dreams, the true magic of life. And most important of all, in all these things at the heart of them, is such a feeling that God truly is here, and truly must be heard and followed, an intensification of the feeling of this... such as i imagine was felt in the ice age (which according to biblical history happened after the great flood, see here). Of course these are ideals of these times and places, but our ideals of times and places do have impact, and do spring from somewhere. They mean something.
Anyway, i suspect it is the ideals of the ice age and such that are underneath my lifelong draw to Alaska. And the longing is incredibly deep for these ice age ideals, for lack of a better phrase. The draw is also to something seemingly different but actually feeling connected to me...the archetype of the mythic Avalon. Avalon reminds me of some of the islands of lower Alaska/upper Canada, so there's that...but it more the feeling thats there, the "true magic" of a simple sacred life. I keep seeing the image of the "domestic monastory" as being kind of like Avalon in its softness and simplicity and depth (one guiding image of the feeling is here). And like those ice age sacred places too. Places where you can feel the warm heartbeat of things.
When i couldnt move to Alaska i turned to the day to day living part of this, the trying to simplify more my life and environment where i am. And i cannot even express how deeply my body reacts with relief when i simplify. Its been a bit of an unspoken conflict there with my partner since he likes to collect and hold onto things and i like to only hold onto what is actually needed and actually personally precious and let the rest go--then what is left you can truly "keep" and care for, it "becomes real" to you rather than the clutter of lifeless things (see other blog). So that's what i've been doing this moon. But the deeper thing is that a solid decision has happened inside somehow. I believe in headship with all my heart, and that sure involves following. But i also believe in conviction--true conviction, not just a whim, and i think one can sense the difference becuase they dont come along very often and when they do something sits up and takes notice.
And this simplicity thing for me is a true conviction. I know if i ignore this conviction i will be misearble and this will affect my loved ones too, so this inner decision around this has kind of "clicked" this moon. And its been like this huge weight of relief has fallen off my shoulders with this. I've spent so much of my life feeling strange that i like things pretty radically simple deep down (prefer a snowy white landscape to a riot of colors in bloom (visually anyway), prefer few possesions, dislike chit chat in conversations and knick knacks and clutter in houses, dislike "busyness" in life...or too many sounds or smells or bright colors, i prefer one thing at a time there ). Ive known this stuff was a true part of me, but ive still been wondering off and on in my life what must be wrong with me since many others cant understand these tendencies. But its really been clicking that this is just who i am--and we are created to be who we are with the natures we have for a reason. Ive realized that part of it is physical nature too, that i'm an HSP, which means you have an extra sensitive nervous system that processes things around you differently than others and so you are easily overwhelmed by stimuli.
Anyway, that real simplicty decision "clicking" somehow i am treasuring so much, so grateful for this moon. I know it wasnt my doing, it was a gift. And it is a bead in the necklace.
Which brings up the next step, turning this inward. It seems to be far easier for me to get rid of outer clutter than inner clutter. Not sure how that might heal. But as a start, ive become very drawn to something Me has been doing, making little poems to express things. Something about little poems feels really good to me, like a heartbeat. Simplicity to me means not spartanness but heart. Its not about doing without comfort and beauty but rather with doing without the distracting clutter that drowns out the heartbeat, the heart of things.
Anyway, my inner de-cluttering needs healing with a capitol H and i'm drawn to the poems. So for the other co-in-see-dances i thought i'd put them in poem. (The details of these things are on the other blog)
as the clutter cleared, gifts appeared
God's hand is there
a doll from Jenny,
an apron from Virginia,
a dream or two,
a flower from my partner falling in my path
a butterfly coming by as i gave away boxes
a heart in my cheese as i write this
a nest of squirrels upon the roof
and a home that is feeling more like Avalon
seeking its homeland to root
focus doesnt mean setting intent
it means stepping onto the path
that holds and guides you
Geez louise i cant end with the poems for some reason, there's more. I really need help with this inner clutter/simplicity thing. Anyway, here is the more. But they do feel like more "beads to the necklace" at least...
I was skimming over the posts of the last moon on the other blog, seeing if anything jumped out, and it did. Above i'd linked to a quote that to me gave the feeling of the "domestic monastory". Well i'd really like to include that qoute. So i'll just paste in part of the post its mentioned in:
There's been kind of a guiding image though really, and its one i'm starting to feel more as more is taken out, sorted through, given away, allowing what's left to "shine" more. Its an image i came across awhile back, when sweet blog friend Natalie ( Isabella in the 20th Century/The Homespun Revolutionary) sent me a wonderful book she thought i'd like, Lark Rise by Flora Thompson. I do this thing with books sometimes, ask if there's a lesson for me there and then open to a page, hoping i'll be led to the right one. The passage i opened to in this book took my breath away, left me saying "but that's it, thats exactly what i long for!" It was this, and it stayed with me and has become the "guiding image" right now, so just thought i'd share it:
"These younger Asheleys had one child, a son, about Edmunds's age, and the children at the end house sometimes played with him. When Laura called at his home for him one Saturday morning (their cottage was a bit apart from the rest) she saw a picture which stamped itself upon her mind for life. It was the hour when every other house in the hamlet was being turned inside out for the Saturday cleaning. The older children, home from school, were running in and out of their homes, or quarrelling over their games outside. Mothers were scolding and babies were crying during the process of being rolled in their shawls for an outing on the arm of an older sister. It was the kind of day Laura detested, for there was no corner indoors for her and her book, and outside she was in danger of being dragged into games that either pulled her to pieces or bored her.
Inside Freddy Ashley's home all was peace and quiet and spotless purity. The walls were freshly white washed, the table and board floor were scrubbed to a pale straw colour, the beautifully polished grate glowing crimson, for the oven was being heated, and placed halfway over the table was a snowy white cloth with paste-board and rolling-pin upon it. Freddy was helping his mother make bisquits, cutting the pastry she had rolled into shapes with a little tin cutter. Their two faces, both so plain and yet so pleasant, were close together above the paste-board, and their two voices as they bade Laura come in and sit by the fire sounded like angels' voices after the tumult outside.It was a brief glimpse into a different world from the one she was accustomed to, but the picture remained with her as something quiet and pure and lovely.
She thought that the home at Nazareth must have been something like Freddys..."
The other thing that stands out in the moon-ths post almost feels like a continuation of this. Pasted in again, this one from the feastday of the Visitation:
I really like the thought of Mary's journey today to be with Elizabth for the special season there. Its also occuring to me how "lightly" she must have lived otherwise too... I doubt they hired a "U Haul" caravan for their journey to Bethlehem, or to Egypt and the like. I imagine they lived comfortably but simply. Poverty of spirit as they say. Which is basically i think about clinging to life, to God. I disagree with some of the views on this stuff in that i dont think that means you have to be detached though--i feel letting go of excess is key but it can still mean that your simple things left have "life" and that you should indeed bond with and care for them, should truly "keep" them (as in keeper of the home). Those things left have "life" because of this: you are only using what you need and love then, and so its not a block between you and God, instead you can feel His hand easier through your few things, its why they feel alive. Its why it helps bring you to the heart of things.
If you are surrounded by clutter on the other hand--inner or outer clutter--its so much harder to feel God come through in what He gives you i think, you just see "stuff" rather than the life of His hand actually giving it to you there. I may be babbling here, i find this kind of hard to express. But its the image i have, the draw that comes up so much, when i think of "letting go". Maybe instead of saying letting go it might help to say instead, "So God, what would you like me to have, where are Your hands wanting to come through?". And THAT is what will remain.
At any rate, the thought of Mary living with poverty of spirit can really help us do this more i think, and i know i've needed it so much...been sorting and giving away with a passion lately, both out of necessity and longing. Longing for a cleansing that is more ocean like than desert like. Desert spirituality seems to be about drying things up, barren land, parchedness, it just doesnt feel very soft or feminine to me, its harshness and dryness feels more suited to a warrier in spirit. But now the ocean, the rain...it cleanses not to create barrenness but to give birth, and i love that so much...
So, another rambly oceany post this moon-th here i guess.
I like the image of the beads in a necklace forming becuase that can actually come from an oceany place and yet reach more clarity over time...like the sea slowly smooths and shapes its rocks and shells. It is a clarity, a simplicity, i so deeply long for.
I never cease to be amazed at co-in-see-dances. No sooner had i written the above when i found Krina had put her post up, which is about "rounding corners of time and finding pieces of myself left by the wayside". What an amazing image, and so much like the ocean's rounding of her stones and shells to reveal the essence, shed the excess. Wow, i love this! So next Krina from British Columbia shares her reflections of this past moon on her blog QueenHeroical. From here:
Continue long enough in one direction away from an object and it is bound to eventually loom up in front of you. Little that passes by remains forgotten, and this month I have been the recipient of the past, even my own past. Threads entwined.
- Joining Facebook, discovering there remains a wash of people who remember
- Being contacted by a mentor teacher friend I hadn’t spoken to in a decade or more
- Buttons on a wire speaking volumes about past moments and past fingers
- Photos of times long past, sooner forgotten, -- of a girl I had thought erased by time and pain and a desire to forget and finding her still breathing, still hopeful, still aglow inside me.
- Hearing T.S. Elliott transcend time and bring his words new to my ears, (Poetry Archive)
The list could continue but the point is made. I am rounding corners of time and finding pieces of myself left by the wayside. I find I have new hands to hold them, new open eyes to see, and stronger arms to carry them forward. I await now for what they might unfold before me.
("editor" insert: now why cant i express simply like this? its just so beautiful...)
And from the US, Melissa of Tea With Milk looks back over this moon in the form of old journals and new inspiration, good stuff from here:
It’s been interesting for me to read my older journals lately. Seems I’ve tended to focus on finances, esp. on the lack of them. This year, I’ve tried to be more faithful…to have my eyes intent on the Father, but still, I’m so flawed. But this past week I received something in the mail quoting the writing of one of my favorites, Catherine Marshall. She talks about how little we trust God to answer our prayers, so we make our praying directed at little requests. That we can handle, but big miracles seem too huge and unavailable. She says we limit God and have Him visualized in a way we can handle, when in fact, we cannot. He truly is totally amazing, but we’re too afraid to admit even that.
Mrs. Marshall says:
“However, those saints who have had the most experience here tell us that God uses our most stumbling, faltering faith-step as the open door to His doing for us ‘more than we ask or think.’ We decide to ask His help with some small immediate need. Our asking is like stepping into a tiny anteroom. Taking a hesitant step forward, we discover that the anteroom leads into the King’s spacious reception hall. To our astonishment, the King Himself comes forward to meet us, offering a gift so momentous as to be worthy only of the King: a lifetime gift of a friendship with the Lord of Glory.
‘You asked me for money for this month’s rent,’ He smiles. ‘Sit here at My feet and we’ll talk about the rent, but also of other matters too. I have much to say to you. If you accept My friendship, you and I have years of joyous interchange ahead. I’ve so much to teach you. It’s going to take eternity to handle all of it.’”
I’m going to try to pray big from now on. At least I want to stretch my spiritual muscles. I put God in a box with no surprises. Maybe our season of manna is partly about our limited prayers? I don’t have a clue, but would love a life of God’s abundance in my experience….not to get more stuff, but to feel Him more often right alongside of me. To have a relationship that’s all about closeness and hearing that still, small voice more clearly. To see prayers answered more often. Again, not so I can accumulate goods, but because God wants to answer them. I believe He longs to, but our faith—my goodness, it’s weak.
This is my love letter. Learning more about trusting, and growing. I think I’m excited!
May into June is the moon that holds the deep holiday of Pentecost (see Holy Spirit image above), or White (Whit) sunday. And after that feastday early this moon its kind of a quiet moon in a way. In fact, after Pentecost begins "Ordinary Time" (one of two ordinary time seasons of the liturgical year). And yet the ordinary as we know is deeply sacred, the sacred ordinary. In fact, june is the month for honoring the sacred hearts of Jesus and Mary. Though that jumps slightly ahead of this moon, as those two honoring days are tomarrow and the next day respectively. But still, all of june is kind of a "heart month" in general, being a traditional time for weddings.
In fact, the word honeymoon is inspired by this moon, as one of the traditional names for this moon is the "honey moon". From here: "There is an old song that has the line "Honey moon, keep a'shinin' in June" and the familiar term "honeymoon" comes from the song or is related to the same idea (June weddings, one would suppose). But just exactly what is a "*honey* moon" anyway?"And one answer she got was "Brewers claims it is from the practice of the ancient Teutons of drinking honey-wine (hydromel) for thirty days (a moon) after marriage." That's all i could really find on this moon being the "honey moon". But i cant help but think of the Song of Solomon (4:11) connecting honey and love, "Thy lips, O my spouse, drop as the honeycomb: honey and milk are under thy tongue". This moon is also a time of themes of birth, the feast day for the visitation of Mary and Elizabeth was this moon.
At any rate, i'd say this has been a "heart moon" for me in a sense. In the sense of trying to get closer to the heart of things. Near the moon's beginning i found out i had to move again (see other blog), and it got me longing so deeply for Alaska, the place my fiance and i hope to eventually settle. It doesnt look like we'll be moving there quite yet (though he is there half the year working, which makes the separation hard). But even though i may not be moving there yet, i was SO excited at the thought, ready to just drop everything and go. And i later realized that the excitement and draw was also for a deeper reason...
All my life i've been drawn to the traditional inuit, and even more so to the pre inuit dorset culture, and to the original siberian cultures they all came from. There is a certain simplicity that happens when your natural world is more blended in tone, when your possesions are relatively few, when your art is on your everyday things, and when your needs are so at the surface. The important things become the hearth, warm arms, mates, children, meals, nature, prayer, dreams, the true magic of life. And most important of all, in all these things at the heart of them, is such a feeling that God truly is here, and truly must be heard and followed, an intensification of the feeling of this... such as i imagine was felt in the ice age (which according to biblical history happened after the great flood, see here). Of course these are ideals of these times and places, but our ideals of times and places do have impact, and do spring from somewhere. They mean something.
Anyway, i suspect it is the ideals of the ice age and such that are underneath my lifelong draw to Alaska. And the longing is incredibly deep for these ice age ideals, for lack of a better phrase. The draw is also to something seemingly different but actually feeling connected to me...the archetype of the mythic Avalon. Avalon reminds me of some of the islands of lower Alaska/upper Canada, so there's that...but it more the feeling thats there, the "true magic" of a simple sacred life. I keep seeing the image of the "domestic monastory" as being kind of like Avalon in its softness and simplicity and depth (one guiding image of the feeling is here). And like those ice age sacred places too. Places where you can feel the warm heartbeat of things.
When i couldnt move to Alaska i turned to the day to day living part of this, the trying to simplify more my life and environment where i am. And i cannot even express how deeply my body reacts with relief when i simplify. Its been a bit of an unspoken conflict there with my partner since he likes to collect and hold onto things and i like to only hold onto what is actually needed and actually personally precious and let the rest go--then what is left you can truly "keep" and care for, it "becomes real" to you rather than the clutter of lifeless things (see other blog). So that's what i've been doing this moon. But the deeper thing is that a solid decision has happened inside somehow. I believe in headship with all my heart, and that sure involves following. But i also believe in conviction--true conviction, not just a whim, and i think one can sense the difference becuase they dont come along very often and when they do something sits up and takes notice.
And this simplicity thing for me is a true conviction. I know if i ignore this conviction i will be misearble and this will affect my loved ones too, so this inner decision around this has kind of "clicked" this moon. And its been like this huge weight of relief has fallen off my shoulders with this. I've spent so much of my life feeling strange that i like things pretty radically simple deep down (prefer a snowy white landscape to a riot of colors in bloom (visually anyway), prefer few possesions, dislike chit chat in conversations and knick knacks and clutter in houses, dislike "busyness" in life...or too many sounds or smells or bright colors, i prefer one thing at a time there ). Ive known this stuff was a true part of me, but ive still been wondering off and on in my life what must be wrong with me since many others cant understand these tendencies. But its really been clicking that this is just who i am--and we are created to be who we are with the natures we have for a reason. Ive realized that part of it is physical nature too, that i'm an HSP, which means you have an extra sensitive nervous system that processes things around you differently than others and so you are easily overwhelmed by stimuli.
Anyway, that real simplicty decision "clicking" somehow i am treasuring so much, so grateful for this moon. I know it wasnt my doing, it was a gift. And it is a bead in the necklace.
Which brings up the next step, turning this inward. It seems to be far easier for me to get rid of outer clutter than inner clutter. Not sure how that might heal. But as a start, ive become very drawn to something Me has been doing, making little poems to express things. Something about little poems feels really good to me, like a heartbeat. Simplicity to me means not spartanness but heart. Its not about doing without comfort and beauty but rather with doing without the distracting clutter that drowns out the heartbeat, the heart of things.
Anyway, my inner de-cluttering needs healing with a capitol H and i'm drawn to the poems. So for the other co-in-see-dances i thought i'd put them in poem. (The details of these things are on the other blog)
as the clutter cleared, gifts appeared
God's hand is there
a doll from Jenny,
an apron from Virginia,
a dream or two,
a flower from my partner falling in my path
a butterfly coming by as i gave away boxes
a heart in my cheese as i write this
a nest of squirrels upon the roof
and a home that is feeling more like Avalon
seeking its homeland to root
focus doesnt mean setting intent
it means stepping onto the path
that holds and guides you
Geez louise i cant end with the poems for some reason, there's more. I really need help with this inner clutter/simplicity thing. Anyway, here is the more. But they do feel like more "beads to the necklace" at least...
I was skimming over the posts of the last moon on the other blog, seeing if anything jumped out, and it did. Above i'd linked to a quote that to me gave the feeling of the "domestic monastory". Well i'd really like to include that qoute. So i'll just paste in part of the post its mentioned in:
There's been kind of a guiding image though really, and its one i'm starting to feel more as more is taken out, sorted through, given away, allowing what's left to "shine" more. Its an image i came across awhile back, when sweet blog friend Natalie ( Isabella in the 20th Century/The Homespun Revolutionary) sent me a wonderful book she thought i'd like, Lark Rise by Flora Thompson. I do this thing with books sometimes, ask if there's a lesson for me there and then open to a page, hoping i'll be led to the right one. The passage i opened to in this book took my breath away, left me saying "but that's it, thats exactly what i long for!" It was this, and it stayed with me and has become the "guiding image" right now, so just thought i'd share it:
"These younger Asheleys had one child, a son, about Edmunds's age, and the children at the end house sometimes played with him. When Laura called at his home for him one Saturday morning (their cottage was a bit apart from the rest) she saw a picture which stamped itself upon her mind for life. It was the hour when every other house in the hamlet was being turned inside out for the Saturday cleaning. The older children, home from school, were running in and out of their homes, or quarrelling over their games outside. Mothers were scolding and babies were crying during the process of being rolled in their shawls for an outing on the arm of an older sister. It was the kind of day Laura detested, for there was no corner indoors for her and her book, and outside she was in danger of being dragged into games that either pulled her to pieces or bored her.
Inside Freddy Ashley's home all was peace and quiet and spotless purity. The walls were freshly white washed, the table and board floor were scrubbed to a pale straw colour, the beautifully polished grate glowing crimson, for the oven was being heated, and placed halfway over the table was a snowy white cloth with paste-board and rolling-pin upon it. Freddy was helping his mother make bisquits, cutting the pastry she had rolled into shapes with a little tin cutter. Their two faces, both so plain and yet so pleasant, were close together above the paste-board, and their two voices as they bade Laura come in and sit by the fire sounded like angels' voices after the tumult outside.It was a brief glimpse into a different world from the one she was accustomed to, but the picture remained with her as something quiet and pure and lovely.
She thought that the home at Nazareth must have been something like Freddys..."
The other thing that stands out in the moon-ths post almost feels like a continuation of this. Pasted in again, this one from the feastday of the Visitation:
I really like the thought of Mary's journey today to be with Elizabth for the special season there. Its also occuring to me how "lightly" she must have lived otherwise too... I doubt they hired a "U Haul" caravan for their journey to Bethlehem, or to Egypt and the like. I imagine they lived comfortably but simply. Poverty of spirit as they say. Which is basically i think about clinging to life, to God. I disagree with some of the views on this stuff in that i dont think that means you have to be detached though--i feel letting go of excess is key but it can still mean that your simple things left have "life" and that you should indeed bond with and care for them, should truly "keep" them (as in keeper of the home). Those things left have "life" because of this: you are only using what you need and love then, and so its not a block between you and God, instead you can feel His hand easier through your few things, its why they feel alive. Its why it helps bring you to the heart of things.
If you are surrounded by clutter on the other hand--inner or outer clutter--its so much harder to feel God come through in what He gives you i think, you just see "stuff" rather than the life of His hand actually giving it to you there. I may be babbling here, i find this kind of hard to express. But its the image i have, the draw that comes up so much, when i think of "letting go". Maybe instead of saying letting go it might help to say instead, "So God, what would you like me to have, where are Your hands wanting to come through?". And THAT is what will remain.
At any rate, the thought of Mary living with poverty of spirit can really help us do this more i think, and i know i've needed it so much...been sorting and giving away with a passion lately, both out of necessity and longing. Longing for a cleansing that is more ocean like than desert like. Desert spirituality seems to be about drying things up, barren land, parchedness, it just doesnt feel very soft or feminine to me, its harshness and dryness feels more suited to a warrier in spirit. But now the ocean, the rain...it cleanses not to create barrenness but to give birth, and i love that so much...
So, another rambly oceany post this moon-th here i guess.
I like the image of the beads in a necklace forming becuase that can actually come from an oceany place and yet reach more clarity over time...like the sea slowly smooths and shapes its rocks and shells. It is a clarity, a simplicity, i so deeply long for.
I never cease to be amazed at co-in-see-dances. No sooner had i written the above when i found Krina had put her post up, which is about "rounding corners of time and finding pieces of myself left by the wayside". What an amazing image, and so much like the ocean's rounding of her stones and shells to reveal the essence, shed the excess. Wow, i love this! So next Krina from British Columbia shares her reflections of this past moon on her blog QueenHeroical. From here:
Continue long enough in one direction away from an object and it is bound to eventually loom up in front of you. Little that passes by remains forgotten, and this month I have been the recipient of the past, even my own past. Threads entwined.
- Joining Facebook, discovering there remains a wash of people who remember
- Being contacted by a mentor teacher friend I hadn’t spoken to in a decade or more
- Buttons on a wire speaking volumes about past moments and past fingers
- Photos of times long past, sooner forgotten, -- of a girl I had thought erased by time and pain and a desire to forget and finding her still breathing, still hopeful, still aglow inside me.
- Hearing T.S. Elliott transcend time and bring his words new to my ears, (Poetry Archive)
The list could continue but the point is made. I am rounding corners of time and finding pieces of myself left by the wayside. I find I have new hands to hold them, new open eyes to see, and stronger arms to carry them forward. I await now for what they might unfold before me.
("editor" insert: now why cant i express simply like this? its just so beautiful...)
And from the US, Melissa of Tea With Milk looks back over this moon in the form of old journals and new inspiration, good stuff from here:
It’s been interesting for me to read my older journals lately. Seems I’ve tended to focus on finances, esp. on the lack of them. This year, I’ve tried to be more faithful…to have my eyes intent on the Father, but still, I’m so flawed. But this past week I received something in the mail quoting the writing of one of my favorites, Catherine Marshall. She talks about how little we trust God to answer our prayers, so we make our praying directed at little requests. That we can handle, but big miracles seem too huge and unavailable. She says we limit God and have Him visualized in a way we can handle, when in fact, we cannot. He truly is totally amazing, but we’re too afraid to admit even that.
Mrs. Marshall says:
“However, those saints who have had the most experience here tell us that God uses our most stumbling, faltering faith-step as the open door to His doing for us ‘more than we ask or think.’ We decide to ask His help with some small immediate need. Our asking is like stepping into a tiny anteroom. Taking a hesitant step forward, we discover that the anteroom leads into the King’s spacious reception hall. To our astonishment, the King Himself comes forward to meet us, offering a gift so momentous as to be worthy only of the King: a lifetime gift of a friendship with the Lord of Glory.
‘You asked me for money for this month’s rent,’ He smiles. ‘Sit here at My feet and we’ll talk about the rent, but also of other matters too. I have much to say to you. If you accept My friendship, you and I have years of joyous interchange ahead. I’ve so much to teach you. It’s going to take eternity to handle all of it.’”
I’m going to try to pray big from now on. At least I want to stretch my spiritual muscles. I put God in a box with no surprises. Maybe our season of manna is partly about our limited prayers? I don’t have a clue, but would love a life of God’s abundance in my experience….not to get more stuff, but to feel Him more often right alongside of me. To have a relationship that’s all about closeness and hearing that still, small voice more clearly. To see prayers answered more often. Again, not so I can accumulate goods, but because God wants to answer them. I believe He longs to, but our faith—my goodness, it’s weak.
This is my love letter. Learning more about trusting, and growing. I think I’m excited!
