A thread of longing
petals drifting down from cherry trees
in slow motion
so their beauty slides off gently
we do not see a moment of passing.
and so, in our lives
our youth slips away in increments
that youth still flickers
like a candle flame on the living room wall.
and then one day
with some sadness
we realize we have crossed
a certain threshold
and shall not have opportunity to reenact
the same events.
From one view we diminish
but in another
we embody an album of rich memories.
We have been formed into something more valuable
than all our doing and imagining.
I wonder what Jesus would have thought
if he looked back on his own experience?
Would he have paused at the suffering of the cross?
Or would he have settled for the gain?
As I reflect over the years, I see some frayed threads
in my tapestry. Perhaps even some places where the
needle needed to be re-threaded.. But I do sense a common thread;
a strand of longing, a filament of gold that occasionally surfaces
along my way. Jesus is persistently at work in both my knowing
For the Spirit of the Lord has filled the world, and that which hold all things together knows what is said.
The Introit for Pentecost reflects the strength and power of the text — a passage from the Wisdom of Solomon, set in Mode 8. The opening passage starts on the lowest note of the piece, giving it a brooding, mysterious quality. It quickly ascends to its highest point on the word replevit (fills), demonstrating the expansiveness of the Holy Spirit’s action. The two phrases are punctuated with joyful Alleluias. The entire piece exudes an energy and authority, reflective of the Gift that was so lavishly poured out on the day of Pentecost.
02 Ad missam in die – Introit_ Spiritus Domini(1)
by Sr Nunother
I have a friend who sometimes declares, “I need to own my beans.” What she means is, “I need to look at this squarely and take responsibility for who I am and what I do.” It’s so easy for me to side-step the truth and for a variety of reasons: protect my pride, not risk a relationship, avoid pain, avoid reality, remain superior and not appear needy.
Two weeks ago, I served a dinner in Bethany Guest House. As I removed the pie from the warm oven, I carelessly left the oven door open. After cutting two pie slices and adding scoops of vanilla ice cream, I turned and charged toward the dining room. Oops. I slammed my shin against the stainless steel edge of the open oven door. The wound looked strange but I decided to minimize. I calmly called to one of the guests (I knew her well) and asked if she would mind pouring tea and serving pie. She came into the kitchen, noticed the blood trail and said, “Honey, you need a doctor.” The cut required thirteen stitches, but I maintained throughout that I was fine, it didn’t hurt and I’d be back to work that same evening. But what was I really feeling? More along the lines of “Aaaugh!! My leg is killing me and I want the best medical help available!”
There are moments each day when I adjust the truth, most of them silly and pointless. Why not simply own my beans and live in that liberating place called reality.
by Artist Eye
The other day we were sharing a few things that we were grateful for and one person said that they were grateful for the rain after gardening.The phrase sounded so biblical, it made me smile. It sounds like that verse in Second Samuel: He is like the light of morning at sunrise on a cloudless morning, like the brightness after rain that brings grass from the earth.
Then I thought, why shouldn’t it sound biblical? Same needy children of men; same bountiful God; same need to rehearse our gratitude: And surely, His Mercy shall come down as the rain after gardening. . . .
A narrow strip of sand running along the edge of the marsh grasses. Here the tide comes and goes. The fiddler crabs have surfaced again after the winter and are busy scampering sideways over the sand; excavating their houses. As I walk along they feel the vibrations of my steps and flee into their holes, leaving just of the tip of a claw visible at the entrance. Looks like a no trespassing sign to me.
Fiddlers are such amazing creatures. Their eyes swing up and down on little poles. The males have one extra large claw for bravado. This claw is also the source for their name because it looks like they are dragging around a large fiddle. What struck me today is that the fiddlers live in a colony, actually quite close to each other; yet they seem to operate as individuals. This may be ignorance on my part, but they move around each other without any acknowledgement of one another, and when danger approaches; it seems to be every man out for himself.
I have a tendency to act a bit crabby myself. I live in the midst of a colony of fellow Christians but I can still resort to living alone, withdrawing into my little hole. When you live in close proximity to others reality is never very far away. Sometimes I raise up my big claw and wave it around to let everyone know that I am not a push over. But I find that sitting alone in my hole is not what it used to be. I use to crawl in, put up my claws on the ottoman, and wait for the tide to come in. But I am learning; still crabbing but learning. Much to learn; much to appreciate.
I think the biggest event of this past week (well, maybe not, but it seems that way…) was the visitation of the wild turkey. I was talking with a friend in one of the offices and she suddenly jumped up and said “there’s a wild turkey!” and ran out the door. He appeared in the entryway to our common, and proceeded to climb up onto the guest house patio, as if he belonged there. What a handsome fellow! I had never seen one close up, and it was a real treat to see him strutting back and forth, admiring himself in the windows.
For a recent brunch type reception, I was asked to come up with a mini egg dish that was similar to quiche, but not heavy. We tried a number of things, and discovered a delicious breakfast option. We tried it first in pastry, which is nice, but then switched it to a ham cup and…oh my!!! Here they are in a breakfast-sized form, which we made for a retreat this past weekend, but you can also do them mini-size, which are delightful for a brunch reception!
Fluffy Breakfast Eggs in a Ham Cup
6 slices of ham
6 whole eggs
6 egg whites
2 teaspoon kosher salt
1 Tablespoon chopped chives
2 Tablespoon sour cream
1/3 cup monterey jack cheese, grated
1/3 cup fresh parmesan, grated
1/4 cup diced red pepper
1/4 cup diced onion
Preheat oven to 375 degrees F. Spray 6 ramekins with cooking spray. Line with ham, trimming so you don’t have too much overhang — just a little border of ham over lip of ramekin. Saute red pepper and onion until soft. Divide cheeses and pepper/onion mixture among ramekins. Whip eggs and egg whites with salt until frothy, then add chives and sour cream. Divide among the ramekins evenly.Bake in a 375 degree oven until puffed and golden, about 25 minutes. (note: You can use any kind of cheese or fresh herbs, according to your preference) Have fun!