Tag: Rev. Kathy Manis Findley

Activism, All Shall Be Well, anxiety, Attachments, Bewilderment, Brokenness, Caged children, Calm, Change, Confusion, Courage, Defiance, Despair, Determination, Dreams, Emerging new, Falling down, Fear, Feelings, Following Christ, healing, Hope, Injustice, Psalms, Questions, Reflection, Transformation

In these Evil Days, Dream a Little Dream

Revkathy

Rev. Kathy Manis Findley

Lately, I have been trying to figure out a number of mysteries, but I have not figured out one single thing-, not lament, not how to fix my life, not transformation, not even the continuous mess in my closet. I simply have not yet been able to go through a reorganization process. The prospect of reorganizing my life—my soul, my spirit, my heart—plus all the treasures in my closet and armoire is so terribly daunting to me. Marie Kondo comes to mind, but I quickly shoo her away from my mess in the closet.

Lots of folk complain about “these days.” I confess that I do my share of complaining. What is it about “these days” that seems so troubling? I cannot fully give you an answer to that question yet, but I have some ideas about it. The issue at hand reminds me that the Bible often refers to “evil days.” I believe that many people see these days as “evil days,” and that cannot turn out well for anyone!

Jennifer Senior, a journalist with The Atlantic, recently wrote a news article in which she asked a another provocative question: What will happen to the American psyche if Trump is reelected? (Don’t worry, this post is not about Donald Trump!) On this question, maybe we really don’t want to know the answer. Instead of taking her question seriously and considering what might happen to “American psyches” following the November election, some folk would rather complain about the division all around, the evil around us, or other things nobody likes.

When we dare to make an honest evaluation of circumstances that surround us, we dig in our heels and balk. We balk because we don’t want to see the division in our nation or the impasse we have reached on important issues. We balk because, in truth, no one wants to lament. Remember, I’m not talking about divisions among us like liberal or conservative, Democrat or Republican, male or female, immigrant or American citizen, black or white . . . I could go on and on naming divisions among us. We have always co-existed with division, but most often in the past we have acknowledged division and simultaneously practiced kindness, respect, and tolerance. Given the current national environment, we might just be justified in calling these days “evil days.”

If reading the Bible is something you typically do, then you might understand more fully the term “evil day.” My heart tells me that “evil days” are definitely taking a toll on us. Instinct tells me that “the evil day” is not a single day, but refers to the times in our lives when we face overwhelming , troubling circumstances. If you are willing, meditate on the following words for a few moments.


Therefore, take up the whole armor of God, so that you may be able to withstand the evil day and, having prevailed against everything, to stand firm. 16 Stand, therefore, and belt your waist with truth and put on the breastplate of righteousness15 and lace up your sandals in preparation for the gospel of peace. 16 With all of these, take the shield of faith, with which you will be able to quench all the flaming arrows of the evil one.17 Take the helmet of salvation and the sword of the Spirit, which is the word of God.

—Ephesians 6:13-17 NRSVUE

I want to remind us all about the unrest we hold inside, too close to our heart and spirit. The proximity is important to pay attention to, as well as the flashpoints, past and present, that people have endured. I would guess that there are many flashpoints and memories of times that have held power over you. You probably face off with flashpoints, knowing that they not only create stress in our bodies, but also create bondage. We can become chained to our lives. Until we have exert some control of the present time of division, hate, turmoil, distrust, disrespect, contempt and other forms of bondage, we cannot find peace that changes the world. We certainly cannot figure out how to accept the possibility of transformation.

These evil days may well be causing our hearts to lament. These days may be days full of nightmares—no dreams at all, not even little dreams. You can name your own tragedies—the ones that are making it hard to breathe for you, or the ones that cover the whole troubled world with sadness. When I think of choosing my personal places of lament, those places where I can pour out the most anxiety, I feel the heavy burden of hopelessness. If you feel that too, you are not alone.

Always looking for a scapegoat, we try to discern what is bringing us down. Of course, life often brings us unforeseen personal tragedies that we must deal with. And there is certainly enough shared anxiety to go around. If you read the daily news, you will undoubtedly hear about the fierce war in Ukraine, the inability to create peace in the Middle East, the rising cost of food, the food deserts in our country, refugee children separated from their parents, difficult financial challenges, mass shootings, fractured relationships, long-term estrangement from loved ones, the opioid crisis and addiction, racism, injustice of all kinds, and politics. Evil days!

There are so many more ills we could add to this list, but we know them already, and the news programs are anxious to tell us about broken politics, as well as the way politics creates broken people. So there you have it! Among the many sources of stress we each experience, we continually stress over the dozens of pointless news stories about politics and the behavior of politicians every day. To top it off, Gloria Mark points out that “we are once again facing a news cycle that will shove our attention—as well as our output, our nerves, our sanity—through a Cuisinart.” No matter how skillfully we deny it, our bodies are not designed to handle chronic stress and trauma.

Just about now, you might want to say that politics doesn’t affect us that much, certainly doesn’t cause depression and hopelessness. But consider this viewpoint written by Pulitzer Prize winning journalist, Jennifer Senior:

The American Psychological Association’s annual stress survey, conducted by the Harris Poll, found that 68 percent of Americans reported that the 2020 election was a significant source of strain. Kevin B. Smith, a political-science professor at the University of Nebraska at Lincoln, found that about 40 percent of American adults identified politics as “a significant source of stress in their lives,” based on YouGov surveys . . . Even more remarkably, Smith found that about 5 percent reported having had suicidal thoughts because of our politics. Evil days!

And of the most divisive election in decades, psychologists are saying that their research shows that more than two-thirds of U.S. adults (68%) say that the 2020 U.S. presidential election was a significant source of stress in life.

It is not a stretch to say that stress plays havoc on our dreams, even our little dreams. I have to confess that my big dreams disappeared into the “impossible“ file, and were then swallowed up by the churning in my stomach and my psyche. I remember my first year in seminary, working part time jobs and going to class. For a while, I worked in the development office where all the catchy slogans, mottos and themes were born. One year, the staff got together to write a theme for the annual development campaign. I don’t know who came up with our brilliant theme, but we loved it. I really loved it and made it my personal mission.

“We’re Out to Change the World!”

I tried to do just that, and I honestly thought I could, but eventually the scene in my mind of one young woman alone trying to change the world on her own made me shiver. All the lofty goals and the many little dreams, along with a few big dreams, that had my attention were disappearing before me. I despaired at first and then carried long-term grief about it. There would be no big dreams in my heart. I would never see the glory of a big dream come true. Nor would I dream small dreams. People usually don’t dream of whatever is better while they are covered in grief—mourning, lamenting that they lost their dreams in the first place. In “these evil days” we must let go of despair and pray for an extra portion of holy determination!

But people do see the sacred light that sparks dreams. It dawns over them again and again until their dreamless spirit transforms from death, to life, to get their bearings again, and to summon the energ to get up and try

This is my message to you, and to myself: After your time of lament, rejoice! After you have escaped the bondage of evil days, rejoice! After you name your loss, and then put yourself back together, rejoice!

Take heart. Up in the heavens, there is rejoicing for you! Even in the gloomy shadow of dark and evil days, there is rejoicing for you! Even if you are trying to dream even the littlest dream, there is rejoicing for you!

So try a big dream! Change the world a little bit! Your heart longs for it, the world needs it, and the heavens will do what they always do—rejoice!

 Let the heavens rejoice, let the earth be glad;
    let the sea resound, and all that is in it.

Psalm 16:11 NIV

May even your smallest dreams change the world!

Activism, Advocate, Challenge, Change, Community activism, Compassion, Covenant, Dreamers, Dreams, God’s Gift of Stars, Good Trouble, Hope, In Memorium, Justice, Racial injustice, reconciliation, Rev. Kathy Manis Findley, Separation, Sheltering children, Social justice, Transcendence, Transforming Injustice, Violence, Wade in the Water, War

Do You Have a Dream?

Revkathy

A woman of sacred worth, Aha! Moment, Epiphany, God’s beloved daughter, God’s Mercy, Grace, Hope, Rev. Kathy Manis Findley, Singing, Skies, Spirit wind, wind

“Measure Me, Sky”*

Revkathy

By Rev. Kathy Manis Findley


You might have received a blog post from me yesterday. It would be the one with the photo of the sky and with random words printed on the page in a totally “cattywonkered” fashion! (not of my own doing) It was a mess, and I tried to write and publish it for at least 8 hours!

What a frustrating yesterday and a discombobulated writing and publishing process! My computer took control and declared sovereignty over my blog post! The document disappeared at least seven times. There was literally nothing I could do. The computer had a mind of her own (urged on with the help of WordPress) and I was the focus of her destructive acts.

Sometimes I long for the days before computers, those olden days when thoughts would just tumble gently out of my soul as I wrote with ink and paper and exceptionally good handwriting. (Remember cursive?) Yes, I lived in those days when I had no computer or even a manual typewriter with striker arms with the letter engraved on them that popped up on to the paper! (And often three or four of those would come up too fast so that they stuck together!) On top of that, my 6th grade teacher, Miss Hamill, made us use a fountain pen and manually fill it with real, bona fide black ink, even when doing math! How impractical that was—with absolutely no way to erase so many math errors!

If I think I’m frustrated writing my blog post using a perfectly fine online publishing site, I should try to remember the “good old days” when my fingers were always marked with black ink. In all seriousness, I just sat down in my special writing chair hoping to share thoughts from my soul for a few minutes, but instead ended up spending hours trying to get my blog post to format correctly! It’s enough to frustrate even experienced bloggers. Therefore, I want you to know that, since yesterday, I have been annoyed and distressed because of my inability to achieve anything resembling a blog post!

End of the rant!

I confess that I spend a lot of time measuring my self. Can I even format this so that it makes sense? Are my rambling thoughts worth all this toil and trouble? Does anyone read my blog anyway? Do I even write well enough to publish? I don’t know the answers, so I am still insisting on continuing to measure my self.

Beyond my rigid, strict, and stringent measuring standards, there is good news—Holy Good News that God is well pleased with me. God is pleased with you, too! I love the way the writer of this article expresses it.

I had an “aha” moment recently when I realized that, while I had never struggled with the false belief that I had to work to earn my salvation, or even to earn God’s love, I did live and think as if I needed to earn God’s pleasure in me. For me, salvation was a free gift, love was a free gift, but pleasure was earned. I subconsciously believed that if I did a lot of good things and earned a lot of “spiritual gold stars,” I would gain more of [God’s] pleasure.

https://mercymultiplied.com/god-is-well-pleased-with-   you/#:~:text=He%20reminded%20me%20of%20how,love%2C%20delight%20of%20my%20life.


Ditto!
For me, it’s still about Epiphany! Epiphany always graced me with lovely “aha moments.” Epiphany also brought clear vision and keen awareness, so I could see that I was making a habit of measuring. I knew all along that I had to learn how to stop measuring my self. Self-measuring is a hard practice to break, but the nasty little secret about it is that virtually no one measures themselves accurately or fairly. We get the measurements wrong every time, or at least most of the time! Instead of continuing the frustrating task of measuring my self and finding the results abyssmal, maybe I will figure out how to let God do the measuring. The alternative is to continue to measure my self as I always have, exhausted and disheartened by the measurements that never measure up to my aspirations.

Remember that when Jesus was baptized the Spirit descended on him and God said, “This is my son, whom I love; in him I am well pleased.” (Matthew 3:17, NIV) God affirmed God’s love for Jesus before Jesus had performed a single miracle! Jesus’ ministry had not even started, but God’s pleasure already rested on Jesus just because Jesus was God’s Son. God was pleased because of relationship, not because of achievement or good-ness.

Wouldn’t we be encouraged if we truly believed that God’s pleasure fully rests on us? Period. I have a notion that God is not even measuring us with much precision and scrutiny. Instead, God is well pleased with you and with me. I hope that this knowledge frees me up to move forward without working to earn something that’s already mine. So I for one am holding my head up, eyes toward the skies, and with a song on my lips, because I know that God’s pleasure in me isn’t going anywhere. Zephaniah 3:17 says that God delights in us and rejoices over us with singing.

I know there is a better way to live my life. Measuring my self constantly to determine if I’m a good enough person—as in smart, gifted, compassionate, resilient, educated, beautiful, articulate, personable, spiritual, good enough to please God. Knowing all the while that by my self-measurements, I am not even close to “good enough.”

I wonder . . . What could be wrong with letting God take over the measuring? Why not let my “self” be measured by God’s golden yardstick in the clouds? To be honest, God does not really need a physical, wooden, for-real measuring stick. And I don’t need to toil for and worry about how I am measuring up. Why not just look up into the sky and wait until I hear God’s voice?

You are my beloved daughter. In you, I am well pleased.
God delights in us and rejoices over us with singing.

Singing is the place where my heart meets God’s heart. Singing lifts my soul and lifts my eyes toward the skies, even through the darkest times and on the rockiest pathways. It seems that, in response to the eternal grace God gives us, we would want to honor God by breaking out into song, singing God’s praise with reckless abandon . . .

Come, thou Fount of every blessing; Tune my heart to sing thy grace;
Streams of mercy, never ceasing, Call for songs of loudest praise.
Teach me some melodious sonnet, sung by flaming tongues above;
Praise the mount! I’m fixed upon it, mount of God’s redeeming love!

In the beautifully written poem below, the poet speaks of being able to reach for the sky by a song! I can identify with that thought from my experiences of reaching for the music of my soul during difficult times. It was as if I could ease closer to sky and breathe in the cleansing wind of transformation. I have pondered the meaning of the words “measure me, sky.” You can probably guess how I twist things to make a point, so maybe this is worthless: Sky— God; Clouds—Music; Wind—Transformation. It’s a hard, hard concept to define, so I don’t try. I just take in the imagery and allow it to perfect my spiritual vision. As many of the other phrases in this poem, “measure me, sky” likely has as many meanings as the people who have read it. This poem must be interpreted by its readers as each one contemplates the meaning they find there. When all our pondering brings no conclusion on the meaning, we can know, at least, that poet Leonora Speyer writes of wisdom that leads us as we walk our sacred path . . .

   Measure me, sky!
     Tell me I reach by a song
   Nearer the stars;
     I have been little so long.

September Sunset in Fort Worth; photo by Pam Overton Stoker

   Sky, be my depth,
     Wind, be my width and my height,
   World, my heart’s span;
     Loveliness, wings for my flight.

        Horizon, reach out!
           Catch at my hands, stretch me taut,
         Rim of the world:
           Widen my eyes by a thought.

As you consider the message of this post and rhe image of the sky, please spend a few minutes listening to this hymn and meditating on its meaning to you.

“Measure Me, Sky!”
SATB and piano by Elaine Hagenberg
Poem by Leonora Speyer https://www.elainehagenberg.com/measu…
Performed by the Tallgrass Chamber Choir Jacob Narverud, conductor

* Measure Me, Sky is a soulful poem written by Leonora Speyer and later used as a hymn text.

anxiety, Calm, Comfort, Fear, Feelings, Kindness, Life storms, Nature, Protection, Psalm 57, Refuge, Tenderly

Safe Under the Shadow of Your Wings

Revkathy

O God, be gracious to me,
For my soul takes refuge in you;
And in the shadow of your wings
I will take refuge
Until destruction passes by.

— Psalm 57:1

Last night we had thunderstorms, loud ones. All of us were awakened from a deep sleep—me, my husband Fred, and Kikí the cat. And all three of us ended up in the bed together, Kikí snuggled between us in the soft covers. Sleeping in our bed is not Kikí’s normal habit, but the storm frightened her, and it was her safe place for the long, long night of the scary thunder!

Most of us tend to take feeling safe for granted. It’s all about knowing we live in a safe home, in a safe neighborhood, with the things we need. Typically, we aren’t stranded outdoors in a storm or wandering about in a scorching desert. For the most part, we are not left outdoors in freezing weather. We are the fortunate ones who have choices, but there are people all over the world who do not have the comforts they need and deserve.

In this season, we think about people who have needs more than we do in other times of the year. We may give more to organizations that help them, or we may reach out ourselves to offer a safe place for them. As we think about gifts and ribbons and bows (and gift cards for our teens), I hope all of us will remember the many people in our communities who truly need our gifts and our caring.

Truth is, we all need safe places almost more than we need anything else—physical safe places as well as emotional safe places. I suspect the little puppy in the photo above found both in the shelter of a goose’s wings. The animal kingdom is truly incredible. While we assume that animals are only focused on the safety and survival of their own kind, this simply isn’t true.

We have all heard stories about interspecies friendships. A dog who makes friends a cat. Or even a dog and a cow who have become friends. Usually the story is about an animal who went out of his/her way to comfort another, even though the two animals might be of different species and have very little in common. I want to share a true story with you.

It’s the story of a goose who sheltered a puppy from the cold during some dangerously low temperatures. The original story of this unlikely couple went something like this: In January of 2019, a polar vortex hit North America. In Montana, an especially frigid place, a passerby spotted a goose cradling a freezing puppy under its wings.

This goose’s motherly instincts immediately kicked in when she saw the puppy. Not wanting the tiny puppy to suffer, she covered the baby with her plumage to shelter it from the bitter cold. She hoped that her efforts would keep the puppy alive. Another source of this story tells us that the goose and the puppy—not at all of the same species—were adopted together. What a truly beautiful thing to witness!

There are plenty of humans that love and respect one another and even go out of their way to help those in need, even those who are not like them. But there is still far too much hatred and intolerance in the world. What might it be like if every person, animal, and every part of God’s creation could count on safe places, shelter from the danger, protection from fear, or a refuge in troubled times?

And how graced we are when we believe the Psalmist’s promise . . .

In the shadow of your wings I will take refuge
Until destruction passes by.

During your meditation time, you may listen to the lyrics of this song.
Original Songwriter/Composer: Scott Brenner, Cheryl Thomas

Beauty, Bewilderment, Brokenness, Color, Covid-19, God’s creation, Grace, Gun violence, Hate, Heartbreak, Hope, Injustice, Inspiration, Movement, Rev. Kathy Manis Findley, Ukraine

Beauty

Revkathy
Beauty

I know some things about beauty . . .

Most folk don’t take nearly enough time to notice it.
These days way too much ugliness hides the beauty that’s always around us.
Even when we don’t pay attention, beauty surprises us with magic and mystery.
Beauty is a lot like hope.

The magical appearance of beauty is, indeed, in the eye of the beholder. For me, beauty can inspire me by color and movement, by the shimmering stars on a clear night, by the magnificence of a tree’s movement in the breeze, by looking into the eyes of my grandchildren. Beauty is there for us always—to be seen, to be heard, to be sensed deeply in our bodies and in our spirits.

These days, I need more of it—more hope, more beauty. I need more visions of beauty to supersede the ugliness of injustice, division, racism, misogyny, homophobia, political warring, brokenhearted immigrants looking for life, mass shootings, Covid, gun violence, child trafficking, suffering in Ukraine—all the varied chaos around the world.

And then there are the people here and there who bring grace to us all by transforming ugliness into beauty and hope.


As for the beauty revealed in the opening photo, I don’t know who created it or photographed it. I do know that he or she is a person who finds beauty in unlikely places at unexpected times, and translates that beauty into grace to be shared with those who most need it.

Who knows about that image? The striking silhouette of the trees, the birds flying above, the twinkling stars in the sky, and all of that with swirls of color that seem to me like holy movement. Regardless of the source of that photograph, I like to believe that its beauty—all beauty—comes directly from God as grace for me, and for you.

Hope! Beauty! Even in the ugliest of times!

Alliance of Baptists, Call, Calling, Challenge, Cooperative Baptist Fellowship, Faith, journey, Labyrinth, Ministry, Mission, New Book Release, Perseverance, Resilience, Southern Baptists, Stories of Journey, When God Whispered My Name

Unapologetically!

Revkathy

I confess that this is an unapologetic promotion of our newly released book . . .

When God Whispered My Name!

Stories of Journey Told by Baptist Women Called to Ministry

Rev. Kathy Manis Findley and Dr. Kay Wilson Shurden, Editors

Let me tell you why I recommend this book, unapologetically.

In its pages, you will find not only my story, but also the poignant stories of eighteen women who were called to ministry, only to face challenges and obstacles along the way. Simply because they are women! These are diverse women, each one unique, and their journeys follow winding paths, uncharted and serendipitous.


You will be mesmerized by these heartfelt stories about how nineteen ministers each heard a Holy Whisper calling her to a life of ministry and compassionate service to others. Get your copy today at these links:

Smyth & Helwys Publishing

Amazon

Barnes and Noble Bookstores

“There is power in a story well told, a sacredness that speaks to shared experiences, and draws us closer to God and to one another. When God Whispered My Name is full of such stories. Equal parts inspiring, sobering, and challenging, the stories of these women bear witness to the Good News that flourishes when one dares say yes to God’s call. This timely volume is sure to offer hope, encouragement, and community to women and men who are wrestling with that same mysterious call from God and those seeking to empower them.”

—Mandy McMichael
Associate Director and J. David Slover Assistant Professor of Ministry Guidance
Baylor University

For more information, visit the When God Whispered My Name website.

Faith, God's Faithfulness, Labyrinth, Spirituality

“This is the way. Walk in it.”

Revkathy
Art by Kalliope

If you know about labyrinths, you might get this. People often ask me what a labyrinth is or what it’s for. Truth is, you can’t fully understand a labyrinth by definition, nor by reading about it. You won’t get the significance of a labyrinth by what I write here, no matter how eloquent my writing may be. To know a labyrinth, you have to walk one, or trace the circuits of a finger labyrinth, or trace the path on a sand labyrinth and feel the sand under your fingers.

As a part of spiritual direction, many folk tell me that a labyrinth looks like a maze to them, and they fear they’ll get hopelessly lost, unable to make it out. That sounds a lot like life to me. Isn’t there always fear that we’ll get lost on this journey we call life? After we’ve made a few wrong turns in life, we are often fearful of living it. Afraid our wrong turns will end badly. Afraid we’ll get lost.

The truth of the labyrinth is that it is a clearly marked path that will lead you in—to the center—and then lead you out by the same path. Perhaps that’s why it has been called “the sacred path.”

If you know me or follow my blog, you already know that my life has been made up of many curves, turns, twists, dead ends and crossroads. At times, it has felt unnavigable, a dangerous and unpredictable journey. Yours has probably felt much the same. I have learned a few good lessons along the way, though, lessons that I hope will stick with me.

The one overarching lesson is that I can neither predict, nor control my path. The twists and turns will appear before me, and I will walk through them. The curves will seem treacherous at times, and I will lean into them hoping to stay firmly on the road. I will stop in my tracks at the dead ends and simply turn around and start over. The crossroads? Well, they have their own precariousness, danger. The crossroads demand a decision. The road I choose could make a world of difference, good or bad.

It’s enough to make life frightening! And it does. Life is frightening, especially for those of us who need to control our pathways. Here’s where the labyrinth offers me so much comfort. It is a pre-created path in and then out, and when I follow it’s path, I am reminded of one of the core beliefs of my faith: that God has laid out a path uniquely for me. Whether I follow it or not is another part of my faith. I get to make that decision.

When I walk a labyrinth or even trace its circular pathways with my finger, I am aware of a guiding hand, a Comforter beside me, and the peace of knowing the path was created for me. I feel Spirit winds and hear the holy voices of thousands of years of Wisdom whispering into my ear.

And when you turn to the right or when you turn to the left, your ears shall hear a word behind you, saying, “This is the way; walk in it.”

—Isaiah 30:21 (NRSVUE)

Amen.

Beginning again, Change, Contemplation, Meditation, Meditations for Healing, Sacred Pauses, Sacred Space

There Is a Joy

Revkathy

In 1998, I wrote a book of thirty-one meditations, Meditations for Healing, specifically for survivors of sexual abuse. In 2006, I revised the the first addition and in 2022, I intend to revise it again. The meditations for each day of the month are prompts to help us find contemplative sacred pauses, very needful not only for survivors of violence, but also for all of us.

As I work on the revision, I am struck by the reality that all of us are survivors of violence, depending on how one defines violence. Is violence a horrific attack on a person’s body? Is that all it is? People who have experienced violence, and I contend that means all of us, know that violence is not only a physical assault, it is also an emotional and spiritual assault on everything we are.

“Violence in all its forms” is a phrase I use often. Defining that phrase is straightforward. Violence in all its forms does, of course, means the obvious: sexual violence, intimate partner violence, homicide, suicide and all the other big, bad forms of violence we observe or experience.

Might violence also manifest its destructive power in verbal abuse, gaslighting, racially motivated acts, the marginalization of women, homophobia, xenophobia, child neglect . . . this list could go on and on.

So as you and I name the forms of violence we have experienced in our lives, contemplative healing becomes important. So I offer you this meditation for healing:

As you enter into moments of sacred pause, this musical arrangement may open your soul to rest, peace, comfort and new hope.

The text of this choral arrangement by Elaine Hagenberg, Still with Thee, uses excerpts from a poem by Harriet Beecher Stowe.

Still, still with Thee, when purple morning breaketh, 
When the bird waketh and the shadows flee; 
Fairer than morning, lovelier than the daylight, 
Dawns the sweet consciousness, I am with Thee! 

When sinks the soul, subdued by toil, to slumber,
Its closing eye looks up to Thee in prayer;
Sweet the repose beneath the wings o’ershading,
But sweeter still to wake and find Thee there.

So shall it be at last, in that bright morning 
When the soul waketh and life’s shadows flee; 
O in that hour, fairer than daylight dawning, 
Shall rise the glorious thought, I am with Thee!

Alone, Contemplation, Meditation, Prayer, Quiet, Quietude, Reflection, Rev. Kathy Manis Findley, Sacred Pauses, Sacred Space, Silence

In My Sacred Space

Revkathy
Photography by Johannes Groll

I write about sacred space a lot. I struggle to create sacred space a lot. I rest in sacred space . . . not so much. Certainly not enough. I confess that I, as a person who claims to cherish sacred space, can rarely find it. I must also confess that I need it. Yet, that space where I am tranquil, not agitated and troubled, is elusive to me. As some folk put it, “I’m staying busy!” Too busy!

Photography by Kevin Young

Sacred space is different for every person. Each person will know her/his sacred space intuitively, and by faith. Mine would be under a tree with spreading, low hanging branches or walking my own garden labyrinth.


Your sacred space may be beside the seashore, a place where you find calm, peace, or the ”silence” of the ever-moving ocean. Or you may not require a particular place at all, just a state of mind and an open spirit. If you long for a place of solace, inspiration, or re-creation, you will eventually create a sacred space, either a place that nature has created, a holy place that you have found, or a place you create in your own home. You will know the place, because you will sense what it is doing for your body and soul. Still, you won’t necessarily have to find your sacred space. Your sacred space may find you. And if you have only a few moments each day, make it your sacred pause.

Your sacred space may be beside the seashore, a place where you find calm, peace, or the ”silence” of the ever-moving ocean.


Do not strain to see where your sacred space is or what it should look like. A sacred space has many faces, many facets and dimensions.

Imagine . . .

Once you find your sacred space, spend time there. You may choose to redecorate a quiet place in your home, build something in your garden that can center your thoughts, or find a quiet, beautiful place nearby that you can get to frequently and easily. As for what you do in your sacred space . . . well that will be as varied as the different spaces people choose.

Pray, breathe, sing, meditate, sit in holy silence—whatever you are moved to do is your own sacred moment—a very personal sacred moment. There is, however, one bit of wisdom that seems important—words from Joseph Campbell: “Your sacred space is where you can find yourself over and over again.”

Music for Contemplation

Sacred Space ~ Music for Meditation




Ash Wednesday, Lent, Lenten journey, Repentance

I Didn’t Get Ashes Today.

Revkathy

I didn’t get ashes today. I don’t really understand why, considering that I have always been very religious and sometimes even spiritual. I think I may be in denial and don’t want to hear that I am dust (as I inch closer to dust each day that passes). I confess, I did feel emotional about not getting ashes today. I couldn’t name my emotions for some reason, so I began looking at images that might help me name them.

I found this image and, once I played with it a bit on my digital art program, I liked it. Most other Ash Wednesday images are gray and somber. I settled on this one because it has abstract ashes at the bottom and the palm that is burned to create them. It has a cross to remind me what Lent is ultimately about. It has some color, and there is light.

Digital art by Kathy Manis Findley

I didn’t get ashes today, but I got what is in this image! ashes, palm, a cross, color and light. I’m convincing myself that it’s okay that I didn’t get ashes.

Sometimes I wonder what I should do with Ash Wednesday? A better question might be, What does Ash Wednesday do with me? Must this day remind me that I am merely dust and will return to dust? At my age this is not a comforting thought.

And yet, I have to admit that standing before a minister to receive a smudge of ashes on my forehead is always like standing on holy ground, like standing in the presence of a transfigured Jesus who just last week showed us what transfiguration looks like. With a smudged cross made of ashes on my face, I walk on with just the tiniest hope that I will be transfigured, too, during the next forty days. Still, I got no ashes today.

What do I do with this day that invites me into the season of Lent by giving me ashes? How do I walk this forty day journey that is always marked by repentance, return, fasting, prayer, giving up something, and lamenting over what is, what has been, and what is to come? I am never quite sure that I want to travel Lent’s forty day journey.

So what will I do with this Lent? Some of all of it, I think — fasting, praying, hoping, healing, lamenting, giving up a thing, repenting and returning to God with all my heart.

Even now,” declares the Lord,
    “return to me with all your heart,
    with fasting and weeping and mourning.”

Rend your heart
    and not your garments.

Return to the Lord your God,
    for he is gracious and compassionate,
slow to anger and abounding in love,
    and he relents from sending calamity.

Joel 2:12-13 NIV

That’s my spiritual state on this Ash Wednesday, with a need for “fasting and weeping and mourning.” Lent has always been about penitence for me, but penitence without shame or guilt. Instead of shame or guilt when I return to God with all my heart, I will hear this:

I will arise and go to Jesus;
He will embrace me in his arms,
In the arms of my dear savior,
Oh, there are ten thousand charms.

Shame and guilt can never create newness and transformation for anyone. Sincere metanoia (sincere repentance) will create transformation.

If you know me at all, you know that hymns always offer me ”the whole story” — all the emotions that grab my heart, all the theology that matters, all the melody that lifts my soul. This hymn, one of my heart-hymns, says it all for me. And in this holy season, all that the hymn affirms will be my Lent. Please take a few moments to hear the hymn in the video below as you take time for reflection.

Come, ye sinners, poor and needy,
Weak and wounded, sick and sore
Jesus ready stands to save you,
Full of pity, love and pow'r.

I will arise and go to Jesus,
He will embrace me in His arms
In the arms of my dear Savior,
Oh, there are ten thousand charms.

Come, ye thirsty, come and welcome,
God's free bounty glorify,
True belief and true repentance,
Every grace that brings you nigh.

Come, ye weary, heavy-laden,
Lost and ruined by the fall
If you tarry till you're better,
You will never come at all.

Let not conscience make you linger,
Nor of fitness fondly dream
All the fitness He requireth
Is to feel your need of Him.

I will arise and go to Jesus,
He will embrace me in His arms
In the arms of my dear Savior,
Oh, there are ten thousand charms.
Presented by Taryn Harbridge