Today's pondering are all over the place. Like laundry jumbled in my hampers with clothes spilling over to hide the actual containers. In spite of having no clean undies, I prefer the piles to the neat stacks of clean cotton. Transformation of fabric doesn't feel important today.
I have a working space, one that has nothing in it and yet, I haven't sat down to paint there. One rule I have been given regarding it is that in the space, I am unconditionally loved by God. In a friend, Laura's sharing of her husbands near death (due to H1N1), she kept saying God meets each of us uniquely. One passage she shared was in 2nd Kings 6:16+ when God has sent chariots, horses and a great army, but a servant can't see it. Elisha prays and says, "O Lord, I pray, open his eyes that he may see." And the Lord opened the servants eyes and he saw; and behold, the mountain was full of houses and chariots of fire all around Elisha." There is no generic face or hand or rote heavenly responses, but God's fingers wrapped around my own.
I work one floor above the space I emptied of distraction, at our large eating table. One of my tasks is to lean into pain. Not to break each time I am faced with a difficulty. I often feel like a 12 year old who is learning how to swim, and terrified of water. I test my toe, but break just before lunging forward. What does jumping into the water look like, trusting that a unique teacher is waiting to catch me and then hold me steady as I kick and flail through uncharted spaces.
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