UNEARTH

                                                        Yesterday

                                                     I lived inside

                                 My mind's disastrous uncertainty-sea

                                                           Today

                                                 I am living inside

                               My  heart's rapturous divining-ocean

                                              This is what my Lord's 

                                                Unconditional Grace

                                                    Has done for me

                                                                                                       Sri Chinmoy

I am always searching for the light it seems. Pencils of promise from puffs of cloud, mirrored delight skimming by in canoe, fingers of rekindled hope through the windows with me there gazing. 

It finds me. 

Candle flickers and soft glow lamps and back porch moon.

Beams of elusive close my eyes love.

I unearth flickers now too. Smouldering embers that could feed me, warm me, cleanse, ignite.

Grace Light.

Sometimes it's right underfoot , stepped on and over. Sometimes it radiates out from serendipitous oh so delicious wanderings. That might have seen you act in faith through fear. That you see.

When winter still gripped and gardens lay dormant, I poked and linked and clicked around the computer world. Long overdue intention of putting up some sort of web page for my little gardening business Green Acres,  lead me to Green Inventions, among others, bookmarked as it seemed to be about cooking ( I didn't really look through it) , and then that was that .

 A few months later when I was forming ideas to answer the call of my heart in this past Lenten journey, typing  in key words lead to Stone Crossings. The author's name seemed familiar, uniqueness noted I suppose. 

What divine intervention a few weeks later when through the wise and gentle words of a " blogger", a term I'd come now to learn about in searching for quilting help, sent me skipping to Seedlings in Stone   , nestled among other kind souls , a community of High Calling Blogs.  And there again, she was.

  L.L. Barkat. 

 

 So I turned to her book for some guidance when I was at a crossroads of sorts. It seemed to be that this was the  answer nudging at me.

 Some insight or clarity or hot soothing cup of something.

 To get past the last sour taste. Where I still clung to anger and some need to spill out all my examples of hurt. 

I found grace there, in the hard and hidden places of her life. Of a haunting past and anguish filled climb , stumbling, slipping, and clinging. 

Such dignity and integrity and smooth glistening poetry. Easing into me and softening  my bitterness with bread. 

I won't attempt to write a book review, mulling that around has left me anxious and off course.

I will revisit the book again and again , that I know,  and jot down notes and look up references and rethink passages. Or just light my way.

It inspires and uplifts and finds me closing it and reflecting , look up and out and in.

 In thought and introspection and in compassion and anger. It leads me to still waters and babbling brooks and ocean surges.

 And all the while as I finger sharp pebbles and step with heels on gravel, lose footing on slimy boulders, her stones lead onward. 

 For my faith is stronger. Forgiving is easier. Reconciliation is possible. 

She doesn't preach or admonish or patronize. But invites us to warm and dip and languish.

That we are beloved through creation and can find enough grace to help us serve in God's purpose for us.

I treasure a few similarities that seemed to speak to me , that we suffered at the hands of mess makers, how shame can be such a heavy burden and twist our perceptions and confidence, how Dr. Suess could heal, and how marrying a best friend and being home in the moments of our children's growing up and into security , faith, love, and believing was a grounding balanced freedom.

She writes,

It is time, we say, to take this road in one direction.  No turning back.  If you want to stay, we understand, but we've arranged a passage for ourselves: our real father's door is open. We watch her cheeks blush and glisten, her hands play at the edge of her shirt.  This is, to us, the quivering moment when wings start beating and air starts flowing and the shadow begins to fall away.  Will she stay here, breathing smoke and threat and sorrow, or will she join our flight? Field insects sing.  Dust rises and falls in the setting sun. The strawberries ripen, burst with fruity scent. At last, we sigh with the relief of years when she takes our hand and walks.

I've been turning and turning these words. Layers of meaning and sound and sight and grace.

 I am relieved of years too. And  blessed to have taken your hand.  That you choose to offer it for us.

Thank you L.L. 

*photo of morning light on the Riviera Maya, Stone Crossings with our family love stone and candle holder for 5 twinkling children