Daily 5 - Day 227

Today's Daily 5:

1. 2921 posts here over the last nearly 5 years
2. Reading Renee's Lenten Daily Grateful 5 lists on facebook each day.
3. Discovering that there are only about 80 pages left to read in a book I'm slogging through for the purposes of writing a review
4. Made the second new recipe for March tonight: Mediterranean Beef Pitas
5. Went to Palm Sunday mass
6. had a frank conversation with my parents regarding some stuff that affects my living situation.  Was grateful that they were open in answering my questions.
7. A hug from mom
8. Actually getting a bit of sleep last night
9. Slow, lazy morning, but also quite productive
10. Grandma being out of the house all day... so much less tense for me, and I got most of my usual Sunday tasks done, meaning that I think I can probably go to the zoo tomorrow.  It's been too long since I've visited "my" gorillas, and I still haven't seen the newest baby giraffe.
11. The "I am a rockstar" reminder I posted earlier, from Kelle's blog post tonight.

The Journey

 Both Renee and Anne Jackson have posted this poem in recent days.  I'd never read it before, but it struck me deeply both times it appeared, and I wanted to share it here as well.

The Journey

One day you finally knew
what you had to do, and began
though the voices around you
kept shouting
their bad advice -
though the whole house
began to tremble
and you felt the old tug
at your ankles.
“Mend my life!”
each voice cried.
But you didn’t stop.
You knew what you had to do,
though the wind pried
with its stiff fingers
at the very foundations -
though their melancholy
was terrible.
It was already late
enough, and a wild night,
and the road full of fallen
branches and stones.
But little by little,
as you left their voices behind,
the stars began to burn
through the sheets of clouds,
and there was a new voice,
which you slowly
recognized as your own,
that kept you company
as you strode deeper and deeper
into the world,
determined to do
the only thing you could do -
determined to save
the only life you could save.
*(Mary Oliver – Dream Work)

Worth Reading

Both of the posts below are worth reading today:

Renee's latest.

And Anne Jackson's "I'd Rather Have Fewer Readers"

Daily 5 - Day 190

Today's Daily 5:

1. Wore new earrings to work today.
2. Love the feeling of my hair the day after I get it cut, when it's still flat-ironed and pretty.
3. Got a ride to house church tonight and was able to be with friends.
4. My friend Renee Altson is making a list of 5 things she's grateful for as a Lenten practice.  I love the idea of this daily list being a part of a Lenten journey.  Check out her first list here, and go back often - her blog is great!  (And, as a side note, if you haven't read her book, you need to.  I read it for the first time at a time in my life when I was absolutely convinced that I was maybe the only person in the world who was trying to follow Jesus but was struggling with some pretty huge issues, including mental health stuff.  Renee's book helped me to see that I wasn't alone.  It was probably at least 5 years ago that I read it for the first time, and I've re-read it at least once a year since.  It is one of maybe two or three books that I will list if asked what books besides the Bible have profoundly shaped my faith journey over the last number of years.)
5. Thankful for some moments of very early morning prayer, and song lyrics playing through my thoughts today.

He Waited With Me for a Long Time

I spent some time on the floor tonight. Lying there in the dark, in a room lit only with a few candles, and waiting, hoping, praying, to meet with Jesus and let the things inside me be stilled, even just for a few minutes.

As I lay there, a line from one of the most powerful books I've ever read came to mind. It's a line from one of my favorite stories in the book, a story I've read and felt touch my heart so many times that as I was laying on the floor, waiting for hope and quiet and peace to come, the refrain of the last line not only played, but I heard the whole story, playing softly. I've spoken often, here, about the ways that Renee Altson's "Stumbling Toward Faith" has touched my heart deeply in just the right moments, (and let me just say that if you haven't read this book, you absolutely must rush out and get it. it's not an easy read, but is quite easily one of the most beautifully profound things I've ever read.) Tonight was one of those nights that it touched me deeply. It was the following story, and particularly the closing line that spoke to my heart:

As part of our connection with God, we read the following passage over and over:

“Suppose one of you has a hundred sheep and loses one of them. Does he not leave the 99 in the open country and go after the lost sheep until he finds it? And when he finds it, he joyfully puts it on his shoulders and goes home. Then he calls his friends and neighbors together and says, ‘rejoice with me; I have found my lost sheep.’ I tell you that in the same way there will be more rejoicing in heaven over one sinner who repents than over 99 righteous persons who do not need to repent.”

At one point the facilitator asked us to think and journal about what we felt, about what would happen, if we were the sheep waiting for the shepherd, and we saw him coming: what would he say? Where were we? How would we react?

I sat in that church, sprawled on the floor, leaning against a sturdy pillar with my eyes closed, trying to imagine that moment, trying to be that sheep.

My mind showed me a dusty, dark place. I was alone, it was quiet. There was only the occasional moaning of the wind. There were no birds, there was no shade.

I heard the shepherd coming a long way off. He was whistling.

“Hey,” he said to me. “I have missed you. I am so glad I found you.”

He extended a hand to wipe my tear-stained, dusty cheeks.

“Come back with me,” he said. “Come back to the others.”

I shook my head and pulled away.

“No,” I said.

“He looked surprised, but it did not change the immense compassion on his face.

“No,” I said again. “I can’t go back. I don’t want to. I don’t trust the other 99. I don’t want to be hurt again. Please don’t make me be hurt again.”

The shepherd sat down on the ground next to me.

“Okay,” he said quietly. “I’ll just say here with you then…”

The shepherd waited with me for a long time.

(Stumbling Toward Faith, Renee Altson, pg. 142-45)

I needed to hear tonight that he would wait with me until my heart is restored and able again to return to the land of the living. And, as I sat there in the semi-dark of my candle-lit bedroom, curled up on the floor, I too felt him settle down beside me, let me lean into him, and simply wait.

I Liked This

I've written often about Renee Altson's book, "Stumbling Toward Faith" and the profound and encouraging impact that it's had on me at various points in my journey these last few years. It still ranks as one of my all-time top books to recommend.

Renee has a great blog, which I also link to, and I was deeply moved by the post she put up today.

You can find the post here.

On Hope...

Hope has been a major word in my life these last months, and I always perk up when a blog I like, or someone I respect uses it.

Renee Altson both has a blog I love, and is someone for whom I have much respect. She wrote this post today, and I think it's absolutely beautiful.

Nothing of My Own to Say

I'm processing some stuff - again. Praying, and waiting. Believing and doubting.

Renee had some beautiful things to say tonight, though. I identify with a lot of the stuff she talks about, particularly the last couple of paragraphs. You can find the whole post here.