Inspired Sight

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I don’t want to be a slave to what I see with my natural sight.  Spirit, not substance, determines what it is I am to see, to know, and to understand.

Practicing today to hear with my eyes—the eyes of my heart, that is.  When I hear with my heart’s eyes, everything around becomes a little brighter, a little clearer and filled with possibilities.  And this only comes by living life from the inside out.

“I pray that the eyes of your heart may be enlightened …” Ephesians 1:18 (NIV, The Holy Bible).

 

Hope: An Anchor for the Soul

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Returning to my room at the Breakwater Inn in Kennebunkport, I see the young Latina girl out of the corner of my eye.  I turn and our green-hazel eyes meet.

“I can do your room later if you like,” she says shyly as she kneels in the hallway with cleaning supplies by her side and tying up bags of trash.

The occupant of the room next to mine shuts her door abruptly.

“Oh, that’s not necessary.  No need to do my room today,” I smile.  “We just need our wastebaskets emptied, if you don’t mind.”

And the next thing I know, I’m kneeling beside the Latina girl with eyes like mine tying up trash in the hallway of the Breakwater Inn.

And then I notice it—on her forearm—and the connection begins.

“Your tattoo is really pretty.  Tell me about it.”

“It’s a lotus flower.  It means hope.”

“So pretty,” I say, and she continues.

“I especially like these lines that come down from the flower.  They remind me of the chains on a clock.”

“Oh, like the chains you pull on a clock to set the time?  So, your tattoo reminds you that this is your set time to hope?”

She smiles and nods in happy agreement.  She knows I get her, and He gets her, too.

And one more bag of trash is tied up and tossed out in a quiet moment of sharing God’s love with a young Latina girl with eyes like mine.

***

Jesus never forced his opinion or himself on people.  Instead, he stooped down low to associate with people of all walks of life.  He spoke their language in a way that helped them connect to God.

 

The Mystic Embraces The Poet

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She writes like a poet with the heart of a mystic”, states one well-known author of another.  The words tug at my heartstrings–those melodious tendons said to brace the heart.  I brace myself, and I imagine …

If only those words were said of me,

My heart would sing an unchained melody!

With unbroken rhythms of truth & grace,

I’d find myself in my happy place!

 Just kidding.  Not really.  LOL.

Searching for my singing heart’s motive, I ask the question, “What is a mystic anyway?”

I read the definition: “One who believes in the spiritual apprehension of truths that are beyond the intellect.”

For me, that definition is … close but no cigar.  Yes, I know, a rather every-day idiom to employ by a wannabe mystic such as myself, but please, allow me to explain!

The expression, “Close but no cigar originates from the practice of fairground booths handing out cigars as prizes.  The phrase would be said to those who gave it a good try, but did not win the prize.

My faith is based on the radical belief that the Word behind all words in scripture has been made flesh.  That flesh, a man named Jesus, is Truth.  He’s the prize I get to spiritually apprehend; the full manifestation of All Truth that extends far beyond “my truths”—my human reasoning and intellect—and leads me into the higher realm of All Truth.

So I’m running my race for the prize—the prize of apprehending greater dimensions, not of truths, but of the Truth.  In the taking, the mystic embraces the poet within and something of value, something of worth, something life-giving appears.

In the taking, I center not on what is true about me, but what is Truth about me.  I choose the Way of Truth that brings Life, and I win every time.

~

Writing for me becomes a dialogue with the Spirit of God.  My heart’s response to scriptures whispering through my spirit.  This dialogue flows from John 14:6, “Jesus answered, I am the way, the truth and the life …”  May the dialogue continue in you… Love & Peace.

 

The Power of Story

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Jesus, the profoundly gifted storyteller.  He rarely told stories about God directly.  He often taught through parables.  I appreciate that aspect of his nature.  He knew how to capture the imagination.  He used creative ways to challenge, and even provoke, his listeners.

I believe that the Spirit of God still speaks through parables today.  And as a first century of the 3rd millennium, non-parable reading people, it may take some imagination, and it may take some work, but that’s what makes parables so beautiful.   We are invited into the story to take a lead part, if we so choose.  And in God’s wisdom, he leaves the moral of the story to each to determine for him or herself.

Do you have a story that challenged your way of thinking about something?  My writing often reflects those stories.  My story becomes His story, and I am transformed by the power of story.

 

Living in the Present Moment

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See more inspirational thoughts like this at my new “Knowledge Bursts” page.

This picture was taken at the top of Mt. Washington in New Hampshire.  Oh, how I wished it were me up there!  Love & Peace.  

“He has made everything beautiful in its time. He has also set eternity in the human heart …”  Ecclesiastes 3:11 (NIV)

Mizrach: The Place of the Rising Sun

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“Where sky and water meet,

Where the waves grow sweet,

Doubt not, Reepicheep,

To find all you seek,

There is the utter East.”

― C.S. Lewis

 

Mizrach – a Hebrew word for east.  It literally means the place of the rising sun.  I have no doubt that my eternal heart compass orients to the east—the place of the rising sun.  How about yours?

Up before dawn, we dress in silence and head for the Explorer.  We make our way up the winding Summit Road, to the top of Cadillac Mountain—the first place to view sunrise in the United States.

A rock invites me to have a seat (yes, rocks do speak, … well, sort of).  So I do, and I wait, with eyes wide-open to sky’s still-dark border at the waters of Frenchman Bay.

Earlier in the week, a friend gives me a gift—a Hebrew tallit, named P’nai by the artisans who designed it.  (I am told that the Hebrew word P’nai translates to “the blue points of light” in English.)  I lay the tallit across my lap—heart engaged in prayerful meditation, in unison with the heavens above.  I am lost in translation—drifting among the morning stars singing in chorus.

In a twinkling, I’m back, just in time to catch sight of the most magnificent fiery-red orb emerging.  The tallit upon my lap literally absorbs the chaste white rays and mysteriously glows with the radiance of the sun.

And then, something extraordinary … with sky perfectly clear, and no clouds in sight, a rainbow appears behind me.

Reflected light before me; refracted light behind.  I am surrounded in a prism of light:  wrapped in Creation’s very own tallit … in Mizrach, the place of the rising sun.

One more mountaintop experience to add to my life journal.  An experience not meant to teach but to transform.

” …The heavens declare the glory of God; the skies proclaim the work of his hands.”  Psalm 19:21 (NIV)

*The photo was taken by my husband, as I was otherwise engaged drifting among the stars and gazing into mysterious glows.  He also caught the rainbow behind me, otherwise I would have missed it completely.  Thank you, dear husband.  You know me so well.