The Gift of the Resurrection | “The Blessing of the Morning Light”

As usual, around this time of year, I have been thinking about the crucifixion and resurrection of Christ—about what it means for humanity but also what it means in other ways. Scripture says that Christ came that we might have life abundantly—not a life of material riches, but a life richly transformed by the power of Christ, one which, despite the vagaries of human life, rest in the joy and strength of His presence.

This is also a gift of the resurrection of Christ.

We have been learning over these few weeks of sheltering-in-place that, generally, we have been living shadow lives, chasing the entrapments of what others consider a good life. We’ve also been learning that we can actually live without much of the clutter and noise, that—no matter how much we want to be out and doing with the throngs—we are content with our simpler, streamlined lives.

We have time for thought. For listening. For embracing joy and sorrow outside the rush of our normal everyday existence.

We are experiencing a mass removal of “masks” that unfortunately cannot be handed over to health professionals. This presents us with an amazing opportunity to grapple with the messiness of our experiences in ways that lead to authentic connection with ourselves and others.

This afternoon, I had the pleasure of listening to David Whyte read one of his poems, “The Blessing of Morning Light,” during session 1 of his workshop, The Courage in Poetry. The words coincided so intensely with my thoughts over the last couple of weeks that I almost exited the live workshop just to sit and process those few moments.

We have a genuine opportunity through this global travesty to allow Light to illuminate the dark places so that we may rise to morning light.

[The poem was written one Easter morning (2015) in memory of his friend John O’Donohue].

THE BLESSING OF THE MORNING LIGHT (Or, “Easter Blessing”)
David Whyte

The blessing of the morning light to you,
may it find you even in your invisible
appearances, may you be seen to have risen
from some other place you know and have known
in the darkness and that that carries all you need.
May you see what is hidden in you
as a place of hospitality and shadowed shelter,
may that hidden darkness be your gift to give,
may you hold that shadow to the light
and the silence of that shelter to the word of the light,
may you join all of your previous disappearances
with this new appearance, this new morning,
this being seen again, new and newly alive.

From the David Whyte, The Bell and the Blackbird (2018).

“A Psalm of Life: Let Us Be Up and Doing”

I thought about posting a biblical poem today, but once again, I was overwhelmed by my choices, so I decided to share Henry Wadsworth Longfellow’s poem, “A Psalm of Life.” I happened across the poem this morning as I was reading through Our Daily Bread: Timeless Wisdom to Nourish the Soul, a gorgeous book I purchased nearly 20 years ago. The book is overflowing with scripture, poetry, and meditations.

Longfellow’s message is timely–life is real and we should live it to the fullest.

A Psalm of Life
Henry Wadsworth Longfellow

What The Heart Of The Young Man Said To The Psalmist.

Tell me not, in mournful numbers,
Life is but an empty dream!
For the soul is dead that slumbers,
And things are not what they seem.

Life is real! Life is earnest!
And the grave is not its goal;
Dust thou art, to dust returnest,
Was not spoken of the soul.

Not enjoyment, and not sorrow,
Is our destined end or way;
But to act, that each to-morrow
Find us farther than to-day.

Art is long, and Time is fleeting,
And our hearts, though stout and brave,
Still, like muffled drums, are beating
Funeral marches to the grave.

In the world’s broad field of battle,
In the bivouac of Life,
Be not like dumb, driven cattle!
Be a hero in the strife!

Trust no Future, howe’er pleasant!
Let the dead Past bury its dead!
Act,— act in the living Present!
Heart within, and God o’erhead!

Lives of great men all remind us
We can make our lives sublime,
And, departing, leave behind us
Footprints on the sands of time;

Footprints, that perhaps another,
Sailing o’er life’s solemn main,
A forlorn and shipwrecked brother,
Seeing, shall take heart again.

Let us, then, be up and doing,
With a heart for any fate;
Still achieving, still pursuing,
Learn to labor and to wait.


About today’s images: Today’s images are from a set of photo cards designed by my photographer/art journalist friend Diane W (midteacher on swap-bot). You have seen Diane’s stunning creations on the blog many times. She sent the photos in a beautifully designed handmade envelope filled with photo goodies and design surprises (like hidden pockets filled with photos, stitching, and butterflies). The set has been sitting in my “to be blogged” bin for nearly two years! The two included here are perfect matches for Wadsworth’s poem. To see what Diane has been up to lately, check out her Instagram page: A Focused Journey.

13 Life Lessons from My [Now] 13-Year-Old

Image by Hebi B. from Pixabay

Today is my son’s birthday, and “just like that,” there’s a teenager in our home!

If I weren’t living it, I would not believe how swiftly time flew to get us to this moment. Wasn’t it only yesterday that I was rushed to the hospital for a child who could not wait to enter the world? Wasn’t it only yesterday that I left the hospital longing for the day to bring my preemie home? Only yesterday for so many milestones, minor setbacks, and victories?

I can fill a book with all the things I learned through motherhood and my son. With his quick wit and acumen as I journey through, my son has been by far my most persistent life coach. So…in honor of my-not-so little one’s induction into “teendom,”  I’m sharing 13 “random” lessons from my now-teen. I’m not prioritizing because there are many, many valuable lessons and what follows are the first 13 “off the top of my head.”

    1. There is an unbelievable storehouse of strength inside to get through some of the toughest challenges life tosses my way.
    2. Paper, paint, and markers are the absolute best tools to chase the blues away. Humming while creating chases them even faster.
    3. Real intelligence is being able to explain the most abstract or complex concepts in the simplest terms.
    4. I set the standard for myself.  Other people’s opinions [of me] really don’t matter.
    5. There are way more important things than work. Taking time to play is a right and a responsibility.
    6. Sometimes a good cry and a nap make the world a whole lot better.
    7. The sweetest /most valuable things in life cost nothing.
    8. If I don’t like the story, I can rewrite it, recast it, and make myself the hero!
    9. Sometimes, I am the only sane one in the bunch.
    10. Reading the Holy Writ for hours at a time is never a waste of time.
    11. It certainly doesn’t hurt to ask.
    12. There’s a theory for everything.
    13. Look up. There’s still so much wonder in the clouds.

I cherish every moment of my son’s growth from one phase in life to the next. I’m glad I held him in my arms as much as I could and adjusted my life and schedule to spend more time with him. I’m “in my feelings” a bit over how quickly time flies, but I’ll just rest in these moments and not worry that in the next “blink of my eyes” he’ll be off to college.