Tuesday, December 23, 2008

Mid-day again

It'll be another hour before I get my lunch break. That's just what happens when people are out of the office and the routine is different. It's no big deal, just a little annoyance in the midst of my day.

A busy day.

A casual day. There's something about wearing jeans that makes even my less than stellar work situation just a tiny bit more bearable.

I'll be so glad when tomorrow at noon arrives. Four days in a row off of work will be a beautiful thing.

Family. Food. Friends.

hopefully rest.

Sleep has been an interesting endeavour lately. More so in the two nights I've been staying alone. Not frightening the way I thought it might be, just... active. It's the only word I can think of. That, and fleeting. Hopefully that doesn't keep up for the entire two weeks they're away. I'm not sure my body would cope with that very well.

I'm still wearing a white scarf everywhere I go. Still praying. Still wondering. Still waiting. Still longing. Still dreaming. I think I'm glad that the scarf that is somewhat of a sacramental object. The scarf endowed with so many memories and reminders of the nearness of Jesus is white. If I'm going to have days on end where I need it within easy reach, at least it's a nice neutral color that goes with everything.

And with that, I'm off to fill in an expense report for my boss. And sort through a stack of mail that looks tedious and time consuming. Half a day today. Half a day tomorrow. And then a break. A much needed break.

3 Thoughts from Henri Nouwen

3 more thoughts from Henri Nouwen that have arrived in my email inbox recently.

An Experience Offered to All

Some people say: "I never had an experience of the fullness of time. ... I am just an ordinary person, not a mystic." Although some people have unique experiences of God's presence and, therefore have unique missions to announce God's presence to the world, all of us - whether learned or uneducated, rich or poor, visible or hidden - can receive the grace of seeing God in the fullness of time. This mystical experience, is not reserved for a few exceptional people. God wants to offer that gift in one way or another to all God's children.

But we must desire it. We must be attentive and interiorly alert. For some people the experience of the fullness of time comes in a spectacular way, as it did to St. Paul when he fell to the ground on his way to Damascus (Acts 9:3-4). But for some of us it comes like a murmuring sound or a gentle breeze touching our backs (1 Kings 19:13). God loves us all and wants us all to know this in a most personal way.

Light in the Darkness

We walk in a "ravine as dark as death" (Psalm 23:4), and still we have nothing to fear because God is at our side: God's staff and crook are there to soothe us (see Psalm 23:4). This is not just a consoling idea. It is an experience of the heart that we can trust.

Our lives are full of suffering, pain, disillusions, losses and grief, but they are also marked by visions of the coming of the Son of Man "like lightning striking in the east and flashing far into west" (Matthew 24:27). These moments in which we see clearly, hear loudly, and feel deeply that God is with us on the journey make us shine as a light into the darkness. Jesus says, "You are the light of the world. Your light must shine in people's sight, so that, seeing your good works, they may give praise to your Father in heaven" (Matthew 5:14-16).

The Heart of Jesus

Jesus is the vulnerable child, the humble preacher, the despised, rejected, and crucified Christ. But Jesus also is "the image of the unseen God, the first-born of all creation, ... [who] exists before all things and in him all things hold together" (Colossians 1:15,17). Jesus is the King, ridiculed on the cross and reigning from his throne in the heavenly Jerusalem. He is the Lord riding into the city on a donkey, and the Alpha and Omega, the Beginning and the End. He is cursed by the world but blessed by God.

Let's always look at Jesus, because in his crucified and glorified heart we will see ourselves called to share in his suffering as well as in his glory.