To Jo

A crushing blow was dealt my son

And down I went with grief and disbelief

When I tried to stand I needed help

I tried the conventional way

Consulting a help professional

I knew it wasn’t what I needed—

I wanted someone to guide me toward God’s face

As I struggled for sense and meaning

Into the gaping wound there stepped a friend—

Someone to direct me to the face 

and heart of God

And as she listened to my story

She guided me back to the flowing stream

Where I plunged in with no regard for depth

 In the ensuing weeks and months

I have moved from grace to grace

At home in divine mystery and love

And with each encounter

She gathers up my life into

A gift, a grace, a prayer

…you are my kingdom come

-Nancy

JoAnn Kunz is my spiritual director and friend. 

This is Silence

At the cabin

you can hear
the silence

The tree
branches move
outside the windows

Birds rest
on the feeder

The pond is still
the sky is full of
floating clouds

We are reading
and dozing
and you can hear
the quiet

Leap of Faith

There's a space between worry and wonder

Some call it the leap of faith

I sit in my chair with my favorite mug

And it's not really a leap--no spilled coffee

But deep within there's a knowing

My name is called, and I hear it

And there's a shift, so slight

Yet a rock lifts from my chest 

And a knot loosens in my gut

I trust you, Father

Simple words that take an act of courage

Profound and true enough

To bring a smile to my lips

And a sense of wonder and awe

At God's amazing love and grace

Love in Hibernation

There’s an inspirational lull

in this bleak mid-winter

Moments of quiet are—

just quiet

No epiphanies or flashes

of insight

Still, the Light has come

and these cold days

are warmed

with bowls of oatmeal

and a stack of firewood

on my porch

And in the stillness—

the only sound the

creaking of the radiator

the only light the candles’ glow

the only warmth

the cup of coffee in my hands

Love fills my heart

to overflowing

and I’m content to ride this

silent wave of knowing

and wait for Spring

and warmth

and re-awakening

Christmas Gift

This is printed with the permission of my daughter, April, who tucked this note into my Christmas stocking. A precious, precious gift.

To the Great Stone Dragon*
   a stable, strong and
   protecting guardian

To The Gambler*
   always betting on Love,
   no matter the odds

To A Guiding Light*
   illuminating the way
   in times of trepidation and worry

To the Golden Thread*
   weaving veils of compassion
   that cloak even strangers and passersby

To a great owl*
   wrapping all in your wings
   of love and wisdom

Happy Christmas.

The *s reference things in our shared history that are loved. The Great Stone Dragon is from the Disney movie Mulan. The Gambler is a song by Kenny Rogers. Guiding Light is a song by Muse. Golden Thread is a song by Eva Cassidy. The great owl is from a movie, The Secret of Nihm.

Falling Down

I fell down into the well of Your perfect love

The walls scraped and cut me as I fell

And when I felt the water at the bottom close over my head

All that I knew and all that I held close

   was hanging to the rocks that paved the walls.

And I was naked, gasping for air, and bleeding

The healing waters cleaned my wounds and filled my lungs    

   with Spirit and with life

I am alive as never before—and filled with unspeakable love

All things are new

For the former things are washed away

This morning in my porch time, the picture of falling into a well came into my heart, and I knew it had happened to me, and that I was not afraid.

 

From Loss to Love

It’s been 15 and a half years since Spencer’s death, and this past Sunday I cried while listening to a song that reminded me of him. They are gift—these tears all these years later. And I realize that much of my grief is now connected to how Spencer’s life continues in my children, and he isn’t here to cherish that reality. Their big brown eyes, hearty laugh, encouraging words and angry words, and their courage and strength in adversity bless me over and over and fill me with gratitude for the life and love I had with their father.

Today I went with my Dad to the cemetery where my mother’s buried. As he carefully scraped lichen off the stone, we reminisced. Not perfect, my mom and dad did have a great marriage. They enjoyed each other and told each other so. We had fun together, Dad said. I’m happy, but I miss her. We perched on the grave stone that faced mother’s and sang several songs. As we started Amazing Grace, Dad reached his arm around my waist and patted me throughout the song. I pulled a few weeds around the base of mother’s stone, and then we slowly walked back to the car. I believe mother’s presence in her children, is a comfort to my dad.

As I have moved into my second half of life, my capacity for love has burst wide open. As I reflect on my grief and the grief of my dad, I feel an immense love for my family, my children and my husband; but most of all, I feel an almost inexpressible love for my Heavenly Father. It’s visceral and physical, and it springs from deep within. The mystery of here and there, of heaven and earth, of love and loss continues. With open heart and arms, I embrace it as gift.