A Deeper Sense of Gratitude

 For the bewildering mystery of being alive / I am grateful!
For this amazing communion of saints that is / my body, how it all works—thank you!
    (Even when it is awkward, or ill: gratitude!)
For this stupendous planet, cornucopia of life, / teeming with beauty and strangeness,
    wrapping me in its flow of giving and receiving: thanks!
For the people who have helped shape me, / given me gifts, walked the road with me—
    even unknowing, even by accident—gratitude!
For what I can do, and the faith to do it, thank you!
For light (so splendid!) and sound (how wonderful!)  
for how gravity works no matter what (wow!), / for the sense of touch (and humor): thank you!
For music in the world and in my heart, gratitude!
For all my struggles (for if I am wrestling, I do so / with angels)—I am grateful.
For the lives of people I miss, dear ones even now / on the threshold of death, gratitude.
For the little green frogs in my yard, and / the great blue heron who wants to eat them: thank you!
For your absolutely consistent grace, your delight in it all,  
your love beyond imagining, I thank you!
I ask only for the gift of undying gratitude, / in all things—welcome or not, pleasant or hard—
   in all things, in every moment: gratitude. / Thank you, thank you, thank you.
—“Gratitude” by Steve Garnaas-Holmes

In what areas of your life do you experience the most gratitude? What about your family makes you grateful? What about your community makes you grateful? What about your church makes you grateful? 

It has been scientifically proven over and over again that noticing and expressing gratitude—even for the “smallest” things—lead to stronger relationships, better sleep, lower blood pressure, fewer trips to the doctor, fewer depressive symptoms, more patience, and more perseverance, among many other benefits.  
    
So, where might we start (or keep going) with the gratitude? Even when we face struggles or experience hardship, how might we focus on gratitude? How might we find ways to source our lives from the things that bring joy, wonder, delight? 

Matthew’s gospel reminds us that “For where your treasure is, there your heart will be also.” And because one of our most precious treasures is our time, how might we give our time in ways that increase gratitude, generosity, and the well-being of our heart?
    
I hope these questions might guide us into this season of thanksgiving—and deepen our sense of gratitude for the blessings all around us.  

See you in church, Christy

At The Water's Edge

I’ve come to believe that transformation / usually happens in solitude, when I attend
to my soul’s deep longings, allowing myself / enough room and compassion to grow in
profound ways.  It is a great help and / comfort to have others walk with me to the
water’s edge, but ultimately I have to wade / into the unknown myself, diving below the
waves and drinking from my own cupped / palms.  Processing and making meaning
usually happens when we share what we’ve / discovered, when we return to the water’s
edge with our hands filled with stones and / beach glass, describing the deep places of
shadows and light we searched to find such / treasure.

There is so much love and compassion in / the act of walking together.  There is so
much bright bravery in going far enough / alone to find the roots of our next rebirth.
There is so much humility, grace, and / redemption in sharing the story.
Bless us all when we go forth, and when we / return.  Bless those who are willing to travel
with us, and willing to wait at the water’s / edge saying “What did you find?” And “How
are things with your soul?”
—“Who Walks Us to the Water’s Edge” by Carrie Newcomer

Sabbatical allowed me time to attend to my soul’s deep longings. It was a time of discovery, releasing, wondering, and integration. It allowed my mind to sit on a rock in the middle of the river with no particular agenda. Sometimes I cried. Sometimes I laughed. Sometimes I walked with no precise destination. Sometimes I was very clear about where I wanted to go and what I wanted to do.
    
I realized through this sacred time that most of us—certainly me—are holding great amounts of trauma that have built up over time and affect the ways we move in the world. This trauma affects what we discover at the water’s edge and how things are with our soul. It affects our connecting and our responding to others. It affects our speech and our actions and our faith. It can cause tremendous pain. And it can break us open to unthought of possibilities. Walking the labyrinth helped me sort some of this out—untangle it, pull it apart, look at it closely, and wonder about what parts are helpful and what parts are not. How do we deal with all this trauma? How do we process it, release it, transform it? I certainly don’t come back with all the answers—probably even more questions. But I do come back with more tools, deeper grounding, clearer vision. I come back with an intention not to overlook the trauma that so many are walking around and carrying on their backs. I want to help release the burden. This feels like essential ministry to me. And it seems like the best place to start is through intentional presence and focused listening to one another. We all need a place where we feel seen, heard, and where we know that our very being matters. Will you join me in this sacred work?    

See you in church, 

Christy