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“Everything you ever wanted is on the other side of fear.” (Jack Canfield)

The trick is to get to that other side where fear is behind us, holding us back no more. Fear rises up out of several emotions — low self esteem, a crisis of confidence, indecision. All are conditions that can give rise to paralyzing fear that decimates our noblest dreams.

Consider some of the situations in life when fear stopped you in your tracks. I remember one career opportunity in particular that I passed up because of unreasonable fear. Not taking that job changed the course of my life. I have always wondered how different my life might have been if I had followed that path. There is no doubt in my mind that the path I did not take would have made my life so much richer and fuller.

But the only thing worse than fear is regret, so I will leave that flawed decision behind me and move forward. And I intend to move forward without fear. “Fear is an idea-crippling,experience- crushing, success-stalling inhibitor inflicted only by yourself.” So says Stephanie Melish.

How right she is about the negative power of fear. The problem is that because we are living our fears, we are not living our dreams. So let’s make a pact to get a handle on our fears so that life can be powered by our noblest dreams.

The gospel singer and recording artist, Wintley Phipps, offers a very encouraging word:

“In the quiet crucible of your personal, private sufferings, your noblest dreams are born and God’s greatest gifts are given in compensation for what you have been through.”

Please listen to “It Is Well with My Soul” presented by the Mormon Tabernacle Choir at this link: https://m.youtube.com/watch?v=C-wd5FH3ANA

I posted this in March. As we commemorate the tragedy of 9/11, I want to repost this with the prayer that all of us will join hands and hearts to repair the world.

“In Judaism, we call it ‘tikkun olam,’ repairing the world.”

That statement was in a message I received yesterday from a good friend. What a wonderful phrase, tikkun olam, repairing the world! Her comment intrigued me and made me sad, all at once, because what we so desperately need in these days is to repair the world.

I think first of the brash, inconsiderate, racist and harmful comments and actions that are marking our presidential race.

I consider that 4.6 million Syrians are refugees, and 6.6 million are displaced within Syria. Half of those are children

I consider that in 2016 there were 2,305 deaths in the U.S. caused by gun violence, and that 611 children and teens were killed or injured.

I consider the health tragedy in Flint, Michigan, where 6,000 to 12,000 children have been exposed to drinking water with high levels of lead which cause then to experience a range of serious health problems. The corrosive Flint River water caused lead from aging pipes to leach into the water supply, causing extremely elevated levels of the heavy metal.

I consider that the tone of our country sounds more like raising walls than like building bridges.

I consider that gentleness, love and kindness seem to be rare among us.

Oh, that we had the courage, the knowledge and the power to repair the world!

We harm our world in so many different ways.

Isaiah 61:4 speaks of days of old that feel much like our days. “Then they will rebuild the ancient ruins, They will raise up the former devastations; And they will repair the ruined cities, The desolations of many generations.”

May God grant that we will not continue in the path that might be described “the desolations of many generations.” May our generation find the will and the way to repair the world . . . Tikkun olam.

Everything? Really? Even the bad stuff?

1 Thessalonians 5:18 says “In everything give thanks . . .”

Sometimes that’s easier said than done. Life assaults us regularly with illness, financial difficulties, harmful relationships, and all manner of obstacles. Giving thanks for God’s blessings is easy. Giving thanks during difficult times is much harder. And yet, the Bible clearly teaches that we can indeed be thankful, no matter what the circumstance we face.

What kind of devout faith does it take to give thanks when we experience loss? What is it within me that can express thankfulness when we are grieving?

The gospel song “In Everything Give Thanks” by Donna Alley offers inspiration from the story of Job, a devout man who lost everything of value to him. With his life in shambles, Job said, “Though he slay me, yet will I trust in him.” (Job 13:15)

These are the lyrics of Donna Alley’s song:

In everything give Him thanks, give Him thanks.
In everything give Him thanks.
In the good times praise His name;
In the bad times do the same;
In everything give the King of Kings all the thanks.

With all the good things that had come his way,
Is it any wonder you could hear Job say,
“The Lord giveth and He taketh away…I’ll still give Him thanks.”
But when the tables were all turned around,
And Job’s world came crashing down,
His faith in God caused Job to say “I’ll still give Him thanks.”

Take a few minutes to hear this song presented by the Brooklyn Tabernacle Choir at this link: https://m.youtube.com/watch?v=UN4rwsAQfyU

Why stay earth-bound when you can fly? An interesting question! When I ask people how their day was, I get one very common answer: “Same ol’ same ol,'” meaning things are the same as usual. We expect our days to be mundane and ordinary. We do not expect brilliantly stunning happenings to mark our days.

It’s a shame, really, to face life with such dismal expectations. What if we could make ourselves expect extraordinary events? What if we could anticipate good news days ore often? What if we felt we could spread our imaginary wings and fly off into a glorious sunset?

I guess this is a blog about fantasy, not very practical, for sure. And yet, our spirits often want to soar, to rise above our problems and challenges, to lift ourselves up in a cloud of stunning hope. So I ask myself: what can I do on this very day to escape the things that hold me down? What if I want to fly above the earth, feeling the wind in my face?

I had very few inadequate answers, of course. I could think of only a few few uncommon activities designed to help me escape. But I did think of a few . . . watching a brilliant sunset, sitting out at night and gazing at the stars, watching a river meander across a green valley, walking among the cherry blossoms.

In the end, I decided to at least dream of bright days and star-filled nights. And I decided to think on one of my favorite quotes: “She took the leap of faith and grew her wings on the way down.”

I stood at my kitchen window this morning for at least fifteen minutes, not making a move, so that I could watch the beautiful purple finch at my feeder. I took a couple of very bad photos. But mostly I just stood perfectly still so I wouldn’t scare him away.

I love purple finches. Their song sounds sweet to me. It’s described as “rich, slurred warbling.” Finch songs include the “warbling song,” a fast, rising and falling string of 6-23 notes often sung while flocking. Males usually sing a “territory song” that begins with a few notes on the same pitch before breaking into warbling and ending with a high, emphatic note.

Enough trivia about finches! It’s probably more than you wanted to know.

The point is, watching them relaxes me immensely. It takes me out of myself and transports me into nature’s art gallery where sheer beauty abounds. I forget myself for a few minutes, leaving all my cares behind.

The Purple Finch is the bird that Roger Tory Peterson famously described as a “sparrow dipped in raspberry juice.” I love that description. It reminds me of the many hues that God uses to paint the world, colors that exist to lift us up from the mundane grays of our lives.

A wonderful escape!

Last night was a starry night, a sky full of brilliantly twinkling stars. There’s nothing like a ride through country roads if you like watching stars. Fred and I talked about his very brightly the stars shine in the country where no city lights mask their beauty. And the temperature? It couldn’t have been a more pleasant, springtime evening.

How wonderful it is to be able to enjoy springtime and starlight, both at once. It marks the beginning of a fresh, new season. The breezes are warm. The fragrance of spring blossoms fill the air. The stars twinkle in the sunset sky. Front porches are occupied again as people enjoy the spring weather. Finches and other birds make their way to feeders filled with fresh seed. The trees begin to bud. Daffodils, crocuses and red poppies break through the ground, filling fields with color. And one might even experience a fair amount of sneezing from the swirling pollen.

In spite of the pollen, springtime is definitely a time to celebrate new beginnings, to thank God for yet another season of mild weather, to enjoy watching nature starting over. This year I plan to enjoy several evenings of springtime and starlight.

I learned today that March is National Kidney Month. The truth is that I don’t need a special month to focus on my kidneys. I am focused on my failed kidneys pretty much every day while I await word that there is a donor kidney available for me. The estimated wait time is five years, so I need to try to avoid so much focus on my kidneys and on all the daily dialysis hours that intrude on my days.

What I really need to focus on is myself, my soul that often shrinks into little depressive moments. Thomas Moore’s bestselling book, Care of the Soul, offers a revolutionary approach to thinking about daily life situations. Moore writes about a therapeutic lifestyle that focuses on looking more deeply into emotional problems and learning how to sense sacredness in ordinary things. Care of the Soul is thoughtful, eloquent and inspiring, filled with thoughts that can enhance the ways we care for the soul within us.

Caring for our souls demands that we view the everyday events of life through a religious and spiritual lens. The reality is that there is no problem, illness, or difficult life situation that doesn’t have the power to grab hold of the soul, squeezing the very life from it. Our spiritual and personal work is to recognize that, to caress our souls with tenderness, to open ourselves up to the gentle healing of God.

At times, all of us need to nourish and nurture our souls. At other times, we may even need to repair souls that are damaged by life’s slings and arrows. Yes, God does care about the health of my kidneys. But I have a strong feeling that God cares even more about the well being of my soul.

The Psalmist has words of wisdom for us:
“He leads me beside still waters. He restores my soul.”

Walking beside still waters, watching a gentle rain, listening to birdsong . . . whatever you find inspiring, let it restore your soul.

Poet Nick Frederickson wrote these words: “So, I close my heart to old ends and open my heart to new beginnings.”

Being on the waiting list for a kidney transplant is definitely a new beginning for me. It may well be a very long wait, five years they tell me. At my age, a kidney donor may be found too late for me, meaning that I will continue on daily dialysis throughout my life. So I have to struggle with my doctor’s words of reality that being on dialysis will shorten my life and offer less quality of life.

So this new beginning is fraught with unanswered questions and uncertainty. Unbecoming for a fresh new beginning! And yet, I still compare these days to the many days I spent hospitalized in 2014. Today is so much better. I can walk again. I ride my exercise bike. I draw and paint. I write. I gain inspiration for the tiny life blessings that come my way, and I feel grateful to be alive.

I have closed my heart to “old ends” and they don’t hurt me anymore. My heart is closed to feelings of failure about the end of my nonprofit organization, Safe Places. I am grateful that we had eleven very successful years and that we helped many people.

My heart is closed to the harsh betrayals of people I thought were my friends. I have moved on to some wonderful new friends.

My heart is closed to my inability to help victims of violence on a daily basis. I actually still hear from people who need my help and I am able to continue this ministry.

I have closed my heart to the time when I lost my ability to even write down my ABCs. Now I write an inspirational blog every day that has gotten thousands of views.

Literally hundreds of friends are praying for me. A few good friends and family members are coming forth as potential kidney donors. Who can ask for a better new beginning than that?
“Behold, I am making all things new.” Also he said, “Write this down, for these words are trustworthy and true.” – Revelation 21:5 (ESV)

What enslaves you? What keeps you from experiencing the freedom that God wants you to enjoy? For some, the binding chains are financial problems. Others are bound by family issues, failing health, aging, addictions, a difficult career, depression . . . the list could go on and on.

I have my own set of chains that hold me captive. One of those chains is missing my grandchildren that live so far from me. I am bound by the depression that sometimes descends upon me when I think of not being able to spend time with them. It is a chain that feels like isolation and loneliness.

Another binding chain holds me in the prison of chronic illness. End stage kidney failure has me literally bound with dialysis tubing for eight hours each day. The enslavement, though, is much more than tubes. It is learning to live with a constant illness that can easily rob me of quality of life. It is waiting for a donor kidney that may never come. This is a chain that sometimes feels like helplessness and hopelessness.

My prayer goes like this: “Release me, O God, that I may find freedom. Break the chains of loneliness and hopelessness that hold me captive. Set me free through your amazing grace.”

That prayer is so much more than words. It is literally the only way to break the chains that hold me captive. And it is the grace of our great Liberator that bursts those chains. I imagine myself rising from my knees and, with tears of gratitude, singing with all my heart, “my chains are gone, I’ve been set free!”

The Psalmist expresses this in Psalm 107:10-14 (NASB):

There were those who dwelt in darkness and in the shadow of death,
Prisoners in misery and chains,
Because they had rebelled against the words of God
And spurned the counsel of the Most High.
Therefore He humbled their heart with labor;
They stumbled and there was none to help.
Then they cried out to the Lord in their trouble;
He saved them out of their distresses.
He brought them out of darkness and the shadow of death
And broke their bonds apart.

Please spend a few minutes listening to “Amazing Grace” with “My Chains Are Gone” by Brigham Young University female ensemble, Noteworthy, at this link: https://m.youtube.com/watch?v=X6Mtpk4jeVA

The hope of Jesus is downright scandalous. First of all, that scandalous hope is available to every person that seeks it. Secondly, it is, as President Obama wrote, completely audacious because it is so much more than an optimistic belief that all will be well. It is, rather, doggedly believing that even if all does not end well, we will endure and refuse to be destroyed.

In his book The Scandalous Gospel of Jesus, Peter Gomes writes this:

Hope is not merely the optimistic view that somehow everything will turn out all right in the end if everyone just does as we do. Hope is the more rugged, the more muscular view that even if things don’t turn out all right and aren’t all right, we endure through and beyond the times that disappoint or threaten to destroy us.

The hymn says “my hope is built on nothing less than Jesus’ blood and righteousness.” And it is so true that genuine Gospel hope sets us squarely on a solid rock, now and forevermore. My dependence upon good luck and granted wishes is not what hope is about. My hope is a living, breathing promise right out of a scandalous Gospel that claims unbridled faith in Jesus the Christ.

Please take a few moments to listen to a choral rendition of “The Solid Rock” at this link:
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=0bWjb_6MzwY&sns=em

How would things change for us if we spent time caring for our souls? Everhard Arnold wrote these words:

The miracle of God comes not only from above; it also comes through us; it is also dwelling in us. It has been given to every person, and it lies in every soul as something divine, and it waits. Calling, it waits for the hour when the soul shall open itself, having found its God and its home. When this is so, the soul will not keep its wealth to itself, but will let it flow out into the world.

How wonderful to contemplate that the miracle of God “lies in every soul.” How amazing it is to come to that hour when our soul opens itself fully to God!

It should give us pause if we fail to spend soulful moments nurturing that miracle within us. Instead may each of us spend time caring for our souls and searching for the divine that lives inside of us. What a joy that would be!

Most of us need inspiration to endure the mundane parts of life. We need to see things not only as they are in physical form, but also to see things as holy and sacred. We need to see things as a part of God’s creation given to us to fill our lives with beauty. In some ways, a tree is not just a tree, it is a little piece of nature’s grace.

When I was a young child, my life was filled with the fear of family violence. My home was not a safe place for me. So I would seek refuge under a huge magnolia tree in our yard. I honestly believed that the tree sheltered me and kept me hidden from danger. So I grew up with a strong affinity for trees. I have always had a kind of relationship with trees, and under their sheltering canopy, I found protection from harm.

Yes, it was a childhood fantasy. When I grew up, I learned that a tree cannot really protect me. But I did carry with me some emotions about trees from my childhood, and I consider trees to be my personal sacred spaces. It works for me in all sorts of ways. Actual living trees, of course, are the strongest comforters. But I look at photographs of trees. I enjoy art that pictures trees. And I love drawing and painting them.

Perhaps it seems like a quirky thing. But for me it’s more like an inspiration, nature’s grace for my difficult days

Small prints available. 8 X 10 inch signed prints on linen paper. Two prints currently available. Each print is $12 with free shipping. Order at kathymfindley@gmail.com.

“THE GENTLE FOREST”    $12

“A GLIMPSE OF SPRING”    $12

In this life, with all that threatens us, we need healing, forgiveness, hope, light. We need the holy. We need the Spirit of God. I share with you today a moving prayer by Bishop Steven Charleston.

Let the healing come, to every heart, to every mind and body, to every life that needs it.

Let the forgiveness come, the release from what is past, the freedom of what is new.

Let the hope come, to every person, to every family, that longs for an answer.

Let the light come, to every fearful corner, to every place of worry, to all the spaces that separate our souls.

Let the holy come, the simple pure love that heals and forgives, restores hope and enlightens our path.

Let the Spirit come, to do what we cannot do, to make whole all that is broken.

A longing heart searches for God. A longing heart yearns for communion with God. It is during difficult times when that is most important, during those times when we find ourselves disconsolate. I have had some of those times in my life, times when I languished in suffering. I spent a full year under the ravages of end stage kidney failure and the serious infections that accompanied it.

I temporarily lost my ability to write, to feed myself, even to recognize friends and loved ones. Those were my times of longing for God. Those were times of looking beyond this earth to truly experience Gods love, care and grace. I can report, without hesitation, that God was fully present during those hard days.

I spent fifty-eight lonely days in the hospital, much of the time hoping for visitors to show up to comfort me. I was not alone, but I was lonely. I became truly grateful for the nurses and the other professionals that cared for me. I was glad to see the people who cleaned my room and brought my meals. I remember the nurses who made sure I had sugar-free midnight snacks.

But it was God that gave me the comfort I so longed for. As a person of faith, I should not be surprised at that. But after a series of losses, even persons of faith search high and low for God’s presence. I had a longing heart.

That was a bad year, but a year filled with grace from a loving and faithful God. God’s love that reaches to the heavens reached out to me. God’s faithfulness that reaches to the skies reached out to me when I needed it the most.

“Awake, my soul! Awake, harp and lyre! I will awaken the dawn. I will praise you, O Lord, among the nations; I will sing of you among the peoples. For great is your love, reaching to the heavens; your faithfulness reaches to the skies.”(Psalm 57:8-10).

What color is silence? I contemplated that thought as I searched for an image for today’s blog post. Some say “silence is golden,” but I chose a purple image because, in its stillness, it spoke to me of silence. There is nothing going on in the image. It’s just still and luminous, making no noise at all . . . silent.

Gunilla Norris writes these words about silence:

In our present culture silence is something like an endangered species . . . We need it badly. Silence brings us back to basics, to our senses, to our selves. It locates us. Without that return we can go so far away from our true natures that we end up, quite literally, beside ourselves. We live blindly and act thoughtlessly. We endanger the delicate balance which sustains our lives, our communities and our planet. Can we remember our power as persons? Can we remind ourselves and others that, nurtured in silence, our awareness can lead us back to integrity and meaning? Each of us has and is a holy capability.

I have trouble with silence, often filling it with music. The truth is that I can hear God better in complete silence interrupted only by the sounds of nature. God may speak to me through the sound of a gentle breeze, the chirping of a finch, the music of a gentle rain, the crash of waves upon the shore. God may speak to me best of all when I am hearing nothing, during those times when God’s words reach directly into the depths of my soul.

It changes me. It restores me. It even makes me long for more silence. Gunilla Morris also says that each one of us “has and is a holy capability.” I embrace the holy capability within me in times of silence.

Where does one find hope? It is not just a superficial emotion that can be summoned on demand. Hope does not necessarily come to us when we urgently call for it. Hope is more like a state of being that dwells in the depths of the spirit. When all is lost in your life, you cannot find hope in activities. If you have lost a loved one, you cannot find hope in “getting beyond” your grief. If you have lost your health, you can not find hope in remedies, medical procedures and medications.

“Hope is found in the depths,” Paul Tillich teaches. These are his words of counsel:

If you find hope in the ground of history, you are united with the great prophets who were able to look into the depth of their times, who tried to escape it because they could not stand the horror of their visions, and who yet had the strength to look to an even deeper level and there to discover hope.

We sometimes find ourselves at the “depth of our times.” We sometimes try to escape the horror of what is happening to us. From those low and dark places, it takes strength to look into a deeper level. But that is where we must look if we want to discover hope, the kind of hope that is a healing balm for every life circumstance. We may find comfort, solace, consolation in many places, but hope is found only in the depths.

The shoreline opens itself up for the gentle waves at eventide. It’s a tranquil scene that refreshes the soul in ways I can hardly understand. I like to go to the seashore, in my mind at least, just to see and smell and hear the surf as it comes and goes. It brightens my spirit and refreshes me when I most need it.

I spent two weeks on the Kenyan shore many years ago and learned to love the Indian Ocean. Monkeys played in our front yard, frolicked in the trees, and added to the delight of the scenery.

I love to watch the African sun light the ocean in magical ways, as only the African sun can do. There is nothing like it anywhere else I have visited. I will always have fond memories of our time in Africa.

Memories are wonderful for the soul. They can transport us back to places we loved and remind us of people we cherished. L.M. Montgomery wrote that “Nothing is ever really lost to us as long as we remember it.”

That is so true. And so I hold tightly to my good memories and vow that each day I live, I will make new ones.

The world is meant to be celebrated. Not that one would get that message during this political season when many of the candidates vehemently insist the the country is going to hell in a hand basket unless we elect them. They believe they can swoop in and save the day. They believe that our situation in this country is abysmal.

But there is another story circulating in America, and I like it much better. 106-year-old Virginia McLaurin got to fulfill her dream of visiting the White House and meeting President Obama and the First Lady. And they danced! A visit filled with joy and dreams come true! An opportunity to be celebrated!

Virginia McLaurin beamed as she spoke, “I thought I would never live to get in the White House. And I tell you, I am so happy. A black president! A black wife! And I’m here to celebrate black history. Yeah, that’s what I’m here for.”

So I’m for healing the world through joy, as Terry Tempest Williams writes:

Once upon a time,
When women were birds,
There was the simple understanding
That to sing at dawn
And to sing at dusk
Was to heal the world through joy.
The birds still remember what we have forgotten,
That the world is meant to be celebrated.