Wainwright Park III (Calm after the Storm) 1992 P. Crockett

In the wake of ferocious Hurricane Andrew, piles of broken branches and debris lay about Miami’s bayside Wainwright Park. Chaos, it seemed. But beauty remained.

And if it was so then, so it is now. It’s not a question of denying or avoiding the horror, the Hurricanes and the immeasurable cost of wars built only upon lies, the hunger and varieties of pestilence that lay waste to the lives of the innocent. The horror is always either overwhelmingly present or imminent, and rarely shows up exactly the same way twice. Indeed, it can all easily sometimes seem too much. So we each in our own ways “shut down,” to a greater or lesser degree. We imagine ourselves alone. We toss and turn, long for a good night’s sleep, sometimes wish that we just felt… different upon opening our eyes to another day.

And yet: along the way, I have learned a truth of singular importance: only the pain inside of us which is allowed to remain “unknown,” that which we push away from ourselves (probably because on the deepest emotional level, we see no other choice), can assume any real power over us. Only those aspects of our experience that are never allowed a place in the light, and left to multiply in shadow, remain truly toxic and capable of doing us harm over the course of time .

No truth faced directly, no matter how painful, awful, or even agonizing a realization, can really hurt us. Not really.

I remember reading, “all of our secrets are the same.”

Inspired by photograph taken by Deedra Ludwig, http://www.deedraludwig.com/paintsmall.htm

Merciful God, on this day, here and now, I offer up this cry from the heart. Grant unto each and every one of us just a mustard seed of faith, by which I mean hope, or perhaps, magic. We stand needful of experiencing the quality of mercy through your touch, for life is often a struggle, and we forget.

Keep hope alive in us, especially when we have lost our way, and just can’t see it. Please tend to that small flickering candle flame burning even still inside of us, and guide us to tend to one another’s, attentively and with quiet determination, so that perhaps along some great and distant day, or maybe tomorrow, we will all see those small flames join as one and burst into a great and roaring fire that will perhaps birth some Great New Beginning, and cleanse and re-create rather than consume.

Help us bring a touch of Heaven to Earth, for many are suffering, now. Show us what is right, and good, and a growing path. Show hope as the truest and greatest prophet, and despair only a lonely voice born out of disappointment, tribulation, and fatigue. A growing number of us stand on some unforeseen threshold, witnessing the death of their dreams. Keep us somehow standing upright and ready to keep moving forward, even if we know not why. Birth within us the promise of new dreams, on the horizon.

Open up our hearts, within and to one another. May this be the dawning of a new age, of redemption, and may every single soul be drawn to the glow of its promised light, and the warmth of its cleansing flame. May we feel every breath as a “new breath,” and every day a new creation, exactly as it is.

May the “facts” of our situation, our present built upon the foundations of our pasts, seen with eyes and heart still opening, offer only a starting point for our journey from this point forward, rather than a brick wall all around and as high as we can see, in which it is just a matter of time before hope will surely die.

Surprise us!

May we all take a single breath, alone and together, deep but not forced, and relax into the possibility of a miracle. One as deep, huge, and wide as we may need. Right now is an excellent time to begin.


Home is where the heart is. Our garden gate. Visit us at http://lostreefcottage.com/

and http://www.welcometothemission.com/


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