Not loitering, not being dragged, but do not delay!

I've been reading Pope Francis  The Church of Mercy and he talks about Mary setting out on her journey to visit Elizabeth 'with haste' (Luke 1: 39). Mary, he says, ' is not in a hurry'! Mary, he says 'does not let herself be dragged along by events'.
But, here's the critical thing it seems to me.... 'when she has clearly understood what God is asking of her, what she has to do, she does not loiter, she does not delay, but goes with haste' (P. 148)

and so I pray
Oh Lord, don't let me be hurried, dragged, driven, pressurized  along paths not of your making.
Help me to stand still, just for a second even, to listen deeply for the tone of your voice.
Unmistakable, when I hear it.

In the midst of delays of tube and bus
call to me.

I will answer.

In another garden

I'm in another garden now: crouched, forlorn and seeking.
'Have you seen him whom my heart loves? Has he passed by you?'

I am standing in the presence of an indomitable life force
if I could realize ...
for a moment, for a lifetime.

It is I, Mary, It is I.

John 20: 11-18

Song of Songs 3: 1-5 

St John of the Cross, Spiritual Canticle

http://www.ccel.org/ccel/john_cross/canticle.iv.html

Along the way

In the midst of all the noise, confusion and violence of this Good Friday, where hate prevails ...
I am listening to the stillest silence.
It speaks quiet strength, roaring lion. Love.

My soul is sad

I am in the garden, sleeping.
My eyes are heavy with grief.

And Jesus prays, that if it's possible, this hour might pass.
He throws himself on the ground. Remove this cup!

He is deeply grieved, even to death.
Even to death.
It does not come so soon ... the yet: the not what I want, but what you want my Father.
Abba.

and yes, I do not know what to say to him.
yes, I am still sleeping.

But enough! the hour has come.
Get up. Let us be going.
Let's walk the road.

(Mark 14: 32-42)

Called into the dance

I am called into the dance, and in order to follow I must let go of all I’m holding.

I bring my gifts, but in order to dance the steps, to follow the beat, the love, the sound, the pulse I must be grounded, must breathe, must stand free.

I place my shopping bags, my piles of books, my eternal list of things to do at the door of your garden.

I step into space.

I sense the freedom waiting to unfold into unencumbered places where I will discover new beats, new moves, new people.

I dance my sadness, I dance my joy. I play my confusion, I tear away what’s stale.

I long for running water, I twirl until I fall

and I find you at the centre, turning all in all. (27 January 2013)

On the liberty of the child of God

I long for you my God. I long for the freedom which is you. I long for that suppleness of spirit that lets go the grip and picks up the pieces with graciousness and generosity; that doesn't need to grasp in anxiety. I trust. I know. I see ... that all is given again and again and yes, again.

Then, I can let go of my fear of scarcity because you are all in all.

Then, I can take up my most amazing life to live in you, for your glory.

Then, I can allow it to run through my fingers like sand because there is enough … and nothing stays for ever.

All is gift, all lost and found in you. So I can allow the dance of life and death and healing and wholeness to take me in its arms and cherish me. Even as I let go and dance the lament of death, the pulse of life beats on in each fresh face awakening to greet the day.

I awake the dawn, blessed, transformed in faith, given in love.