Love Letters From God... From June-into July's Moon
Blessed New Moon!
This moon has seen the feastdays of the Sacred Hearts of Jesus and Mary, several feastdays of the disciples, the Celebration of Our Blessed Mother in her connection with Carmel (Carmel means "garden of God", i love this so much), the Summer Solstice, Fourth of July in the US (and other various equivalents of celebration elsewhere) . In ancient cultures they also called the july part of this moon "the dog days" because of the high heat (it was named such after the "dog star" sirius because that star is especially visible/close this time of year) . So fire is kind of the theme i suppose of this moon--the fire of the sun, and of the night sky too (fireworks on the 4th of july etc) , and most importantly the fire in our hearts with the focus on the Sacred Hearts of Jesus and MAry this month.
I've been reading this moon a book from the 50's called The Silver CHalice by Thomas Constain (another amazing vintage book gift from my partner, he seems to find the really good ones). It's about the early Christians, explored through the eyes of a humble young artist who was given the task of buillding a case for the cup Christ drank out of at the last supper...the Golden Chalice, the Holy Grail of later legend. And of the themes there is this fire of the heart. All through the book you see folks undergo such suffering and persecution, and it's the fire of the heart (Holy Spirit, Grace) pulling forth their deeper humanness and compassion and something else too i dont know what...something beyond words there that you can feel, that holds them through it. Ditto for the movie Cold Mountian, also co-in-see-dance-ally seen this moon-th (on the 4th of July), same theme carried across in a different way. And i'd like to go into that theme becuase its turned out to be the theme for this moon underneath it all. In my part of the post this month i am including pictures, because it sorely needs it, the words alone do not express it well (if anyone posting here would like their post pictures included with their words here too please just let me know). So to begin...
This little winter baby is wilting in the heat here. Overwhelmed is more like it. I have had someone i know betray me this moon-th which for some reason hit especially hard this time. I've had some ear damage happpen on july 4th from a piccolo pete going off right next to me (long story, my ears are weirdly sensitive and damaged really easily) that is misearble and im praying isnt going to be permanent--in essence it means there is never silence now becuase of horrible buzzing. Ive had buzzing before but never like this. This has been a big blow, as silence is one of the things i cherish most. There has been the whole "foot saga" thing still, something else im praying wont be permanent, i deeply miss my walks. There has been the depressingness of place searching again, the depressingness of seeing over and over that what should be a given---safe air, safe areas, peace and quiet---we are brainwashed to think are "optional luxuries" somehow, that the greed and inconsiderateness of profit and pollution and loudness are more important than the kindness and accountability of "love one another". Thats what it comes down to really. And its such hogwash. Folks like me who are HS (highly sensitive nervous system) and deal with EI (environmental or chemical sensitivity) are simply the canaries who this stuff impacts first or more readily perhaps, but it hurts all of us in the end. The housing search also brings up a lot of father stuff for me, brings up an unhealed past so lacking in the providence and protection and stability of true headship. Its a wound so many of us share really.
So in essence this month has been about really feeling pretty wounded.
At the same time something has been unraveling. I had a dream a couple years ago mentioned before, and its been at the center this moon-th, a gift of this dream whispering gentle lessons. The dream, it had a very prehistoric feel to it. A feeling not like folks tend to see prehistory as but rather the overlooked/downplayed side of softness and smoothness and simpleness and beautiful and kind "realness", such is as in images that will be upcoming here later. The conflict part of the dream for me was that i didnt have white gloves (perfection, unwoundedness). I longed for them so much in the dream, but was told to still dance without them, without "healing" first. Because, i have been slowly realizing this moon...
It doesnt matter what stage of healing we are in,
What matters is that Grace reaches out her hand to us
and that God holds us close within His.
This is BIG stuff for me.
For so long i have simply believed what we are all so subtly handed, in both the new age and Christian world too: that life perfection (both Melissa and Natalie had some great thoughts on this lately btw), and physical health and strength, and also emotional healing, are just so key. It sounds so innocent but its not. Its a false goal that sets us up to fail and so we carry around this weight on our shoulders---we have to "heal ourselves"/"perfect ourselves" somehow, get rid of those pesky imperfections or wounds. Its not that aiming for perfection is wrong , and its not that healing is wrong either... but rather that there is such judgement there when we "fall short". And it hardens our hearts both to our own frailties and the frailties of others, causes us to judge and deny and hide them rather than them helping us grow and bond as we are meant to through them.
The thing is, we are supposed to reach out to the wounding of ourselves and others in kindness not judgement (back to "love one another"), arent we? I feel wounds are meant to open us, and others. Wounding is a part of not only being human but of being sacred too--just look at the Sacred Hearts of Jesus and Mary, those hearts didnt come from happy skippy perfect unwounded lives. Peace is not from perfectness and wound-free-ness--thats not peace its rather the harm of detachment. Peace has heart, vulnerable imperfect and woundable heart, at its center. Heart is where Grace can reach out to us. IN our wounding and imperfection, not in spite of it. Thats what the not having those full white gloves in the dream meant i think, and i have just really really needed to feel that, am so grateful for the gift there from this moon-th.
Something about some images from prehistory (upcoming) help express some of this where words can't. Take the first one, the one that's up top of the post. It's from here ( "illustration from a Danish book on prehistoric textiles. This clothing is based on British and Danish burials").
Its pretty simple this image, the simplicity of living with the seasons so seamlessly here in prehistory. It says something that my words arent able to say. It reminds me of the "practical beauty" stuff from the beginning of this moon-th too, and that feels so connected here. Not detached or cluttered knick knacky beauty but soft, human, simple, feeling, real, tangible, "without gloves" beauty. I cant explain why this draws so much but it does. Something happens to us, something very harmful i feel, when we lose our heart centeredness, our focus on our simple yet sacred humanness. We are not God, but we are still created in His image as His chiildren. So this humanness we are given, it is precious.
I guess that's why i get so drawn to prehistory, such "realness" there, an understanding of the fragileness but preciousness of being human. Realness is deeper than we think, its a taste of heaven. We think of heaven as bodyless and senseless sometimes but that just doesnt make sense, we are embodied, our body with its heart and senses, in God's image. Heavenly form may be more fine or subtle or perfected but i suspect it still has these things, that they are part of sacredness. I feel deep truth in things like this qoute from the Talmud: "Three things give insight into the (pleasures of the) world to come: Shabbat, the sun, and bodily functions (senses)".
And i feel such an embracing of "realness" in some prehistory, something we later seemed to shy away from more. Hard to explain. Ive noticed that many indigionous people (native americans, aboriginees etc) refer to themselves as "the real people". To assume your culture is what is most real is just the height of arrogance. But i do understand a little of the words chosen here maybe. They look back at their ancient ancestors, who held such realness in the way they lived. They look at progress of other various races later and think realness has been downplayed and pushed aside. Its true--but this is part of the human story, not a particular culture. We have this "realness" in us and are meant to live more "real" direct lives, but we have all lost this to various degrees. So that is why i get so drawn to prehistory, and embracing of realness i feel there. Make that such misunderstood realness.
We have so many assumptions about prehistory. Realness means more sesnistivity and beauty i feel, not less. And so many of us have all these misguided assumptions of the opposite, that all the behavior and clothing back then was mostly crude and unrefined, and also that the women were mostly thin and wirey like our modern ideal, and the like. And its just not true, there is some of that, but much of quite the opposite--images such as these are based on very real finds. I definitely feel a realness and beauty in these things. And with the size factor, the asssumption that larger women found carved in figurines, or shown to us by clothing shapes and sizes found, are all from pregnancy as some have assumed has not born the scruntiny of closer looking either--ampleness found has been from women in various states of life, not just those pregnant. Two fav prehistoric figurine finds btw, cant resist, are here and here--such a wonderful feeling there!
But back to misguided assumptions, more than this we have some assumptions about perfection and healing that just arent true either, as was mentioned before. So in that vein onto the next image, which is shown at the end of this post. Its an image of a dress reconstructed based on iron age findings,and it's from here. Such smoothness of line and softness of feeling, i am deeply drawn to this stuff. It too says something my words just cannot. Its all one piece notice (best to press it for a close up to see), the hood/sleeves drop down when you are hot, up when you are cold, still part of the dress either way, seamless, flowing with change in one piece. Reminds me of Ann V's "one piece life" stuff in feeling, from here...
"A swath of broadcloth in a single, solid shade, artful quilting is the hallmark of the “one piece.” No patches of colors, joined with countless seams, overpower delicate stitches. Single stitches that would have faded away, lost, on a many-seamed quilt, now gather on center stage. I soundlessly applaud...
A one piece. No fragmenting. No tearing. No seams.
My existence yearns to be just that: a life of one piece.
“Now the tunic was seamless, woven in one piece. They said therefore to one another, ‘Let us not tear it…’ (Jn 19:23).
Too long, the fabric of this life of mine has been torn up into secular and sacred. Yet such a dichotomy is mere façade, mirage.
"The Bible makes no room for the idea of the secular. In biblical worldview, there is only the sacred and the profane, and the profane is just the sacred abused, unkempt, trampled down, trivialized, turned inside out. It is just the holy treated in an unholy way.” ~Buchanan
The Gospel, Jesus, comes to say life is meant to be all one piece. Jesus embodied the human and the divine. I can live a one piece life, an ordinary life that is wholly sacred, because the Holy Spirit resides within, this body now being the very house of God. Jesus very first miracle, turning the ceremonial cleansing water into wine for a wedding feast, thundered truth and shattered myth: there is no divide between holy and sacred....
I need...a sanctuary. The kitchen sink will suffice. (significant edit there)
...I desire to live bare foot: all is holy ground. Time to forsake the scissors and give up cutting and piecing. I am taken with the wonder of white stitches on seamless white cloth.
With a one piece shawl wrapping me, I set out for a one piece life."
However. A pretty big however.... i feel more and more that we do this not by white unstained gloves (the white gloves are just really symbolic for me right now because of that "life with gloves" dream), but rather by very wounded and very imperfect lives simply opening to Grace. Its such a perfect plan that we arent perfect. So perfect that we are designed to... in all our simple beauty and faltering feelings...truly need Him.
But he said to me, "My grace is sufficient for you, for my power is made perfect in weakness."
2 Corinthians 12:9 
Next from British Columbia, Krina reminds us of the precious and treasured side of these "dog days" of summer, from her sweet post here:
Between all the pregnancies, babies, toddlers and the business of growing up various people (including myself) I seem to have misplaced summer – scratch that – I have lost entire seasons of the year. So much of my time has been spent running up and down stairs, closing doors, working on the steps to this parenting dance. Entire seasons have slipped through my fingers – past and gone. But summer came this month – summer in its sweltering heat and bright blue unlimited way came to my door and invited me to play – and so I have tasted the forgotten joy of it.
Summer is not my favourite season – I do not bear the heat well or glory in suntans. But I love its ease. Sandals in place of cumbersome socks and boots (or better yet – bare feet clapping the warm earth), light skirts and shirts, and shorts. It is light and easy to be out of doors in the summer.
In so many ways I feel like I am entering summer’s door with our children – through into the days of chumming and play – the growing years – water, sun, dirt. I am a summering parent these days –in this short season of growing them up toward the trials, tests, and triumphs of the coming seasons. There is dirt under my nails, and ground into my skin but the blisters and soreness have past, I have grown accustom and more knowing. A journeyman parent, woman, child working under the master.
Not all is ease in summer but it is easier to look wide.
Thank you Father for these precious few summer days.
From the US Melissa shares her blessings and learnings from this moon-th too, really taking "one day at a time" to heart in her wise post here:
The past month has whirled by in a blur, so my post for Wendy’s group is a tad late. June found us in the thick of the Chicken Pox and sickness with my husband too. We’ve run the gamut of emotions, but every need was met, even though we weren’t always so tickled at how the Lord worked them out. While we’d have liked work to have been more steady with my husband’s shop then, it was a huge blessing for our kids to make such efforts to help pay the bills. I’m guessing that was good for them too, and we’ve got to encourage them and even allow them to take part, even when it bruises our parental pride a bit.
If anything I’ve learned this past month, it’s just to let go. To not be so caught up in doing things my way. To come to the realization that my plans aren’t always the best. That one day at a time means just that. And above all, I’ve gotten to the place of admitting to myself that nothing happens but that the Lord sets it into motion. We can stick our fingers into situations until we’re blue in the face, but we don’t have the final say. When folks get sick or die—when tragedies happen in addition to the joys, it’s because of God’s hand in those situations. There are some who’d argue this with me, but I’m not buying it. If God is Sovereign, then we’re all living in His playground. And I believe that’s the way it is.
To take a deep breath and let this sink in has been huge for me. And what a wonderful break it’s been for me to quit thinking that what I do is so doggone special. I’m just a speck. Just one little speck.
And thank goodness we are specks, so much easier to be led and held...
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