Monday, October 08, 2007

thinking about smoke...

So remember a few posts ago I talked about Shadrach, Meshach and Abendago? And how they didn't smell like smoke when they came out of the furnace? And how Beth Moore said that should be our goal, to not smell like smoke?

Harder to live than to blog about, as always.

How do you be an authentic person who has a good cry and not become bitter about the joy or pain all around you?

Loving the people around you and letting them love you is KEY.

I used to love the hymn "Ain't nobody seen trouble like me, Glory Hallelujah" because it meant that no one had the pain I did, but also a little bit that no one saw my pain. And then I got really good at being a drama queen so that everyone saw my pain.

(Which is entirely different from those folks that can blog about their pain and make us laugh. That is a talent I do not have--it is a gift and I am ever grateful for those who do have that gift. I just end up whining.) (You know who you are...)

Getting to the other side, to a place where my pain is within my circle of those I love, so it's outside of me but inside my circle, is a LONG trip. But really worth the walk, to have those kinds of people in my circle, because that is half the battle, finding the right folk.

This poem has meant a lot to me, since I first discovered Gerard Manley Hopkins in Modern Poetry taught by Sister Maureen my sophomore year of college. It reminds me to not think of the safety of hiding. It is a poem that Maria Von Trapp* would relate to, I'm sure.

2. Heaven—Haven

A nun takes the veil

I HAVE desired to go
Where springs not fail,
To fields where flies no sharp and sided hail
And a few lilies blow.

And I have asked to be 5
Where no storms come,
Where the green swell is in the havens dumb,
And out of the swing of the sea.

from my new favorite website, You can go to the actual page where the poem is, here.

It's morning, and each day falls fresh. May we each see the difference between hiding and coming out and how to be whole.

That is what I wish for you, and for me, dear reader: wholeness.

*I think of this poem as the antithesis of the Reverend Mother singing "Climb every mountain..."

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