Just Faith, Everyday

Happy Easter—to all, even those who do not necessarily celebrate it: I wish you the joy of the 50 days of celebration I’m aiming to stay present for—but life certainly has its distractions. I had a number of interesting observations I wanted to write about, mostly involving my children’s cute way of looking at life that has given me some perspective, sometimes, even when things are at their most chaotic. Thing is, something happened this past weekend as I hurried through grading essays and practiced music for services and met with students and played with my daughters. Something which reminded me of the tenuousness of life, and of the importance of a reflection on what will come beyond this earth on which we stand. I can’t shake the feeling of it, and somehow I want to try and tie it in to these other neat observations during a kind of life-changing Lent for both myself and my husband, one in which we grew exponentially from within. I learned that a friend named Bill, who was once much...

In 2000 or 2001, before 9/11 and before I moved well past my graduate school days, I went with my friend Iyabo to Barbados for a conference at which each of us would present. We made time for the conference (being the nerd I was I wanted to meet some of the big literary critics at this event), but definitely made time for leisure (thanks, Iyabo, for pulling me away). Top of our list was the beach, particularly one called Enterprise (Miami) beach in Oistins, where there was a food truck and men played dominoes on a card table at the edge of the sand, which itself was fine and easy on the feet. The waves rolled in shades of pale and medium bright blue, and patches of that color gave way to turquoise and lay ahead for the eyes toward the horizon. That water on my skin has become a core memory for me. I didn’t and still don’t know how to swim, but I do wade—over the years that fear has abated some. That day we alighted upon the beach I had fear and curiosity on me. Iyabo and her friends ha...

Beginner’s mind. The ability to approach life from a fresh angle. I’m striving toward this daily, and know it’s a daily practice, not something you achieve and finish, swipe your hands and call it done. In the earthly form life is ever-shifting, and embracing the shifts— the movement under our feet—is the only way to go. My favorite thing to do now is to read like I am drinking deeply from a well of the good stuff: books by mystics and visionaries, by humans who speak truth to power, who see the world in terms of what we cannot see as much as by what we can. Evelyn Underhill tops my list lately, especially her reflection on the “Our Father,” entitled Abba: Meditations on the Lord’s Prayer. In it she says “Love is a grave and ruthless passion, unlimited in self-giving and unlimited in demand….May all my contacts and relationships, my struggles and temptations, thoughts, dreams, and desires be colored by this loving reverence.”—a reflection upon “hallowed be thy name” as “the first resp...

Trying to look at everyone with new eyes, with the eyes of God. I don’t mean that in a trite way, in the generalized “call if you need me” but then not really pull through kind of way. I mean this in a radical way: looking to someone I loathe or struggle with and seeing the arm of God wrapped around him or her and considering what it is that God can see I can’t. God nurtures all. It’s not that God doesn't incite or instigate or inspire or create change in the hearts of the worst—that’s happening, too. I’m trying to figure out my place in helping that along, in bringing goodness to the world. Admonish the sinner. Instruct the ignorant. To not know is the Latin base of this word  ignorant —so many do not know. I do not know—I cannot possibly know all that comes with the suffering in this world. I do know that I suffer, members of my family and my friends suffer, and when I am compassionate, and suffer with them, meet them where they are, I come to know that all over the world there ...

I am utterly immersed in Advent’s charms this year. The anticipation of Christmas to me has everything to do with the season leading up—the slow build up week by week, if I choose this over the hustle of commerce first, forces me to reckon with the words which shout fear not, peace, praise , and generally show wonderment: how can this be? Case in point: Have no anxiety at all, but in everything, by prayer and petition, with thanksgiving, make your requests known to God. Then the peace of God that surpasses all understanding will guard your hearts and minds in Christ Jesus. or The crowds asked John the Baptist, “What should we do?” He said to them in reply, “Whoever has two cloaks should share with the person who has none. And whoever has food should do likewise.” The scripture holds part of this charm, especially Isaiah, Zephaniah, Jeremiah, and here the New testament passages from this past Sunday, Gaudete Sunday in the Catholic tradition: rejoice. Rejoice because...

Most mornings my littlest comes up to me with her shoes, laid at the sides of her feet, and looks up and me and asks, “Mama, is this the wrong way?” And there’s so much to think about in this question, isn’t there? I mean, first of all, she’s cute as can be, and no matter how irritated I am that we’re still not ready to go out the door to start the day, I pause and consider it for her. She’s getting it right more often, but still has them reversed sometimes, and so I tell her to switch them, and she proceeds confidently to do so, and goes  on her merry way. Perhaps we wish we could have the same kind of life moment? When we could ask more directly and get that direct answer—is this the wrong way?—so that we might feel a little more secure, a little more assured that God heard the question. God hears us, of course, and most of us know by now that we often do not get the answer we’re expecting. In fact, at least speaking for myself, I find myself more often grappling with the answer ...

I have been a moderate person in many ways for probably most of my life. Don’t get me wrong—I admit I have certain kinds of things I will take a decided stance on, especially when it involves the true well-being of others. Nonetheless, I am not and never have been a person of extremes, and anyone who really knows me knows this to be true. I find myself living in a world currently calculable in its extremes at best, chaotic at worst, and it is both exhausting and utterly dismaying to deal with this on a daily basis now. On a daily basis: confrontation, hatred, skepticism, and an unhealthy disregard for the Other, for those marginalized, for those struggling with burdens the average person might find hard to understand or reconcile. I’ve decided to sit and meditate with this a bit, and this is what I have discovered, looking inside myself first—something I would recommend anyone do. In my life I have moved from a place where immigrants were, for better and worse, an accepted part of soci...