Daily Dose (Mar 12 – 15)

Tuesday — “You can’t get away from a love that won’t let you go.” Thank you, Robert Capon.
This week we will talk about revitalization and restoration. It is the way we are wired. In our DNA.
And as we recognized it, embrace (and are embrace by it), we can begin to be that place of restoration for those around us.

Yesterday I told the story of the young girl arriving in Seattle’s airport, her father awaiting her. When she sees him, she drops her backpack and catapults into his wide-open arms. His hand-lettered sign has dropped from his hand to the floor, now immaterial, and as his daughter leans into his chest, he clutches her tightly and kisses her head. Those of us lucky enough to witness this scene know the healing power, and blessedness of this embrace.

There is a similar story (about an embrace) told in the Gospel of Luke.  A young man leaves home in order to explore and experiment. And “find himself.”
It doesn’t turn out like he planned. He squanders his inheritance and his opportunity, and lives penniless. So, he decides to return–full of shame and regret–willing to be his father’s servant, as some kind of penance.
And then this sentence; “But while he was still a long way off, his father saw him and was filled with compassion for him; he ran to his son, threw his arms around him and kissed him.”
His Father’s reaction? Wrath?
Hardly. Just the opposite. His father throws a party. He calls for rings on his son’s fingers, shoes on his feet, and says: “Kill the fatted calf, and let us eat and be merry. My son was dead, and he’s alive, was lost, he’s found.” And they do indeed have the best of all parties, with music and dancing and everything else.
In real life, it doesn’t always turn out this way.
Even so. In all of us, there is a yearning. A hunger.
A need to know that we count.
That we matter.
That someone knows us, and sees us, and is willing to open their arms, wide no matter what.

Let us take with us this prayer from Dr. Chanequa Walker-Barnes (Sacred Self Care).
God of creation, in whose image we are beautifully and wonderfully made, teach us to embrace ourselves with the same nurture and care with which you tenderly sculpted us. Help us to overcome the barriers and obstacles to scared self-care that arise within and beyond us. Strengthen us as we practice subversive self-care. Empower us to cultivate caring and just communities. Where all of your children know their sacred worth and recognize it in others. Amen.

Wednesday —

“You can’t get away from a love that won’t let you go.” Robert Capon.
Revitalization and restoration are the way we are wired. In our DNA.
And as we recognized it, embrace (and are embrace by it), we can begin to be that place of restoration for those around us.
And speaking of spilling restoration, my friend Fr. Lee Jaster (who died a few years ago), was one of my greatest cheerleaders, and a conduit of consistent grace.
I loved this: He used to list his “vocation” as “broken things fixer.”
Yes and amen to revitalization and restoration.
He made me smile and I loved Lee because he still channeled the boy inside with an insatiable curiosity; who thankfully never grew up. He asked to be buried with sand (from Honeymoon Island) in his pocket, and a Celtic cross around his neck.   

Until the day we leave this earth, we all are looking for wide open arms. Yes, we do our best to pretend that we have our act together, or that we are above overtures of compassion. But inside something gnaws. You see, we don’t trust our own goodness. We reach out, at every opportunity, looking for mercy. We need the hugs of restoration to remind us.  

And one more prayer from Dr. Chanequa Walker-Barnes (Sacred Self Care).
“God of compassion, who cares for us with the tender love of a mother nursing her young, help us to care for ourselves with the same mercy and gentleness that you offer us. Help us to speak words of maturity, wisdom, and kindness toward ourselves. Let our cup so overflow with self-love that we spread it to others, encouraging them to love themselves as your divine image bearers. Amen.” 

A conversation on my trip with Etienne at Chateau Padeaux, Bandol, France (founded in 1752). At a tasting with any group of Americans, he says, “This table where you are tasting wine, is older than your country.” And yes, I’m smiling big.

Thursday —

Revitalization and restoration are the way we are wired. In our DNA.
And yet, in real life, it doesn’t always turn out the way we imagine.
A fifth-grade boy (in a Texas school) wrote about his “very first dad.”
“I remember him
like God in my heart, I remember him in my heart
like the clouds overhead,
and strawberry ice cream and bananas
when I was a little kid.
But the most I remember
is his love,
as big as Texas
when I was born.”
His teacher explained, “He’s not a very good student, although he tries.  But he’s never done anything like this (the poem) before.” She went on, “He never even knew his real father. The man skipped town the day the boy was born.”

Yes. Life hurts. And all of us can see, or name, broken places.
Even so. In all of us, even the broken places, there is still a yearning. A hunger.
A need to know that we count.
That we matter.
That someone knows us, and sees us, and is willing to open their arms, wide no matter what.
And here’s the deal: “You can’t get away from a love that won’t let you go.” Robert Capon. The reality of true Grace is that it does not waiver or diminish. It does not depend upon our response, performance, attitude, faith or checkered past. It just is.
Why? Because Grace heals not by taking shame away, but by removing the one thing our shame makes us fear the most: rejection.
In my experience, it is easier to talk about grace, than it is to embrace it.
Just as it is easier to talk about God, than to experience God.
You want certainty?
Okay. Here’s what I know for certain:
We will not always learn from our mistakes.
We will check our phone messages even while on a silent retreat.
We will never fully understand the opposite sex, even if we compare them to planets.
Dancing is always good for whatever ails us.
Regardless of our best intentions, we will hurt the people we love.
Regardless of our pain, spring will always give us irises.
And. It is not easy to fall into the open arms of love.
However. This I do know: we will only know grace through the open arms of one another.

Friday —

I am writing this on the train from Marseille Saint Charles to Paris Gare De Lyon.
Outside my window a sunny day, looking to my right the majestic, snowed grandeur of the Alps. To my left, the rolling green terrain of the Cote du Rhone region against a sea blue sky. We pass by undulating slopes, many abounding with vineyards and fruit trees. There are villages tucked in along the way, all with a recognizable church steeple, always with the look of a mini-cathedral. And just now, we pass a field of sheep. I wanted to stop and say hello.
Bottom line, I am very grateful to not be driving, able to more easily savor the landscape.

Tomorrow morning, I leave Paris, heading home to Seattle.

Our theme this week, revitalization and restoration. It is the way we are wired. In our DNA.
And here’s my confession; restoration is much easier to preach than to practice.
I was so grateful to receive this affirmation of the gift of grace and restoration, from The Rt. Rev. Steven Charleston’s reminder, “Anytime, night or day, happy or sad, safe or scared, you can be in touch with the holy. Heaven is open all night. It is available 24/7. The Spirit never sleeps. To make contact all you have to do is open your heart, reach out with your mind, and send a signal to the universe: I am here. Please hear me. Please help me. Please listen to my story. And in the silence that follows, coming from all four directions at once, you will feel a hand touch your shoulder: I am here. I hear you. Let me help. Tell me your story. Anytime.” 

Prayer for our week…
Lord Of All Hopefulness
Lord of all hopefulness, Lord of all joy,
Whose trust, ever childlike, no cares could destroy,
Be there at our waking, and give us, we pray,
Your bliss in our hearts, Lord,
At the break of the day.
Lord of all eagerness, Lord of all faith,
Whose strong hands were skilled at the plane and the lathe,
Be there at our labours and give us, we pray,
Your strength in our hearts, Lord,
At the noon of the day.
Lord of all kindliness, Lord of all grace,
Your hands swift to welcome, Your arms to embrace.
Be there at our homing, and give us, we pray,
Your love in our hearts, Lord,
At the eve of the day.
Lord of all gentleness, Lord of all calm,
Whose voice is contentment, whose presence is balm,
Be there at our sleeping, and give us, we pray,
Your peace in our hearts, Lord,
At the end of the day.
Jan Struther
(Oxford University Press in 1931)

Photo… Daughters of Charity of St Vincent de Paul, still sporting the “flying nun” habit, walking a street in the village of Beaune, France. Made me smile big… And I’m so grateful for your photos, please send them to [email protected]