Welcome.

December 9, 2008



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.

Amen.



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

and http://www.welcometothemission.com/

Advertisements

Welcome.

December 9, 2008



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.

Amen.



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

and http://www.welcometothemission.com/


Welcome.

December 9, 2008



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.

Amen.



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

and http://www.welcometothemission.com/


A Prayer for the "Stranger Within Our Gates"

July 10, 2008




By day…


Returning from a family vacation last summer in Colorado, my brother Whitney and drove into Boulder, returned the rental car, etc., and checked into the Holiday Inn near the airport. The staff was friendly and the place nice enough, but the one thing I will always remember about the stay was finding a poem in our room. And not only finding it there, printed on a laminated card, but really being moved by it. I don’t know which caught me more by surprise, but there it was.

Its message surprised and delighted me, and somehow touched me. In today’s America especially travel often seems inherently a “tensing” thing, and I found myself melting just a little. For the last couple of weeks the Prayer/ Poem has kept popping back into my mind, and refusing to let go. So I finally sat down yesterday and Googled it, and first found it quoted in a web site by “Jenne Ink,” a talented and spirited writer journaling online about her experience of cancer. She had come across the message at the Courtyard Inn in Oklahoma City

( jenneink.blogs.com/jennethink/2007/07/stranger-within.html ).

In skimming only the first few other postings I saw that any number of travelers had also unexpectedly come across the Prayer in all kinds of hotels across the Country (one in Williamsburg, Kentucky at the Cumberland Inn, another the Embassy Suites in St. Charles, Missouri (near St. Louis), etc., etc.) and thought enough of it to post their experiences. It had been discussed on a forum of a national hotel chain. The prayer and its message also showed up on various web sites: alternative lodgings, churches, and others.

So quite obviously it hadn’t been just me; here was a message with a power of its own, that all kinds of people in all kinds of places were thirsty to receive. Now seems the time.

And so I share it here, its wonderfully simple language changed only a bit. (I must say, I love it that both of our properties share a common Garden Gate, so the prayer seems a propos in a particular and special way.)






In ancient times there was a prayer for “The Stranger within our gates.”

You are here because you have accepted our invitation to hospitality, and we are grateful and glad. Hosts among the Inuit people, sometimes called the Eskimo, customarily greet their guests with this heartfelt acknowledgment: “You bless our Home with your presence.” May you experience peace, rest, and a promise of refreshment while you are here.

May this Cottage and its gardens be your “second” home. May those you love be near you in thoughts and dreams. Even though we may not get to know you, we hope that you will be comfortable and happy as if you were in your own house. Or even happier, and happier still to return at last to your own bed.

May the business that brought you our way prosper. May every call you make and every message you receive add to your joy. When you leave, may your journey be safe.

We are all travelers. From “birth till death” we travel between the eternities. May these days be pleasant for you, profitable for society, helpful for those you meet, and a joy to those who know and love you best.




And by night.

Amen.


A Prayer for the "Stranger Within Our Gates"

July 10, 2008




By day…


Returning from a family vacation last summer in Colorado, my brother Whitney and drove into Boulder, returned the rental car, etc., and checked into the Holiday Inn near the airport. The staff was friendly and the place nice enough, but the one thing I will always remember about the stay was finding a poem in our room. And not only finding it there, printed on a laminated card, but really being moved by it. I don’t know which caught me more by surprise, but there it was.

Its message surprised and delighted me, and somehow touched me. In today’s America especially travel often seems inherently a “tensing” thing, and I found myself melting just a little. For the last couple of weeks the Prayer/ Poem has kept popping back into my mind, and refusing to let go. So I finally sat down yesterday and Googled it, and first found it quoted in a web site by “Jenne Ink,” a talented and spirited writer journaling online about her experience of cancer. She had come across the message at the Courtyard Inn in Oklahoma City

( jenneink.blogs.com/jennethink/2007/07/stranger-within.html ).

In skimming only the first few other postings I saw that any number of travelers had also unexpectedly come across the Prayer in all kinds of hotels across the Country (one in Williamsburg, Kentucky at the Cumberland Inn, another the Embassy Suites in St. Charles, Missouri (near St. Louis), etc., etc.) and thought enough of it to post their experiences. It had been discussed on a forum of a national hotel chain. The prayer and its message also showed up on various web sites: alternative lodgings, churches, and others.

So quite obviously it hadn’t been just me; here was a message with a power of its own, that all kinds of people in all kinds of places were thirsty to receive. Now seems the time.

And so I share it here, its wonderfully simple language changed only a bit. (I must say, I love it that both of our properties share a common Garden Gate, so the prayer seems a propos in a particular and special way.)






In ancient times there was a prayer for “The Stranger within our gates.”

You are here because you have accepted our invitation to hospitality, and we are grateful and glad. Hosts among the Inuit people, sometimes called the Eskimo, customarily greet their guests with this heartfelt acknowledgment: “You bless our Home with your presence.” May you experience peace, rest, and a promise of refreshment while you are here.

May this Cottage and its gardens be your “second” home. May those you love be near you in thoughts and dreams. Even though we may not get to know you, we hope that you will be comfortable and happy as if you were in your own house. Or even happier, and happier still to return at last to your own bed.

May the business that brought you our way prosper. May every call you make and every message you receive add to your joy. When you leave, may your journey be safe.

We are all travelers. From “birth till death” we travel between the eternities. May these days be pleasant for you, profitable for society, helpful for those you meet, and a joy to those who know and love you best.




And by night.

Amen.


A Prayer for the "Stranger Within Our Gates"

July 10, 2008




By day…


Returning from a family vacation last summer in Colorado, my brother Whitney and drove into Boulder, returned the rental car, etc., and checked into the Holiday Inn near the airport. The staff was friendly and the place nice enough, but the one thing I will always remember about the stay was finding a poem in our room. And not only finding it there, printed on a laminated card, but really being moved by it. I don’t know which caught me more by surprise, but there it was.

Its message surprised and delighted me, and somehow touched me. In today’s America especially travel often seems inherently a “tensing” thing, and I found myself melting just a little. For the last couple of weeks the Prayer/ Poem has kept popping back into my mind, and refusing to let go. So I finally sat down yesterday and Googled it, and first found it quoted in a web site by “Jenne Ink,” a talented and spirited writer journaling online about her experience of cancer. She had come across the message at the Courtyard Inn in Oklahoma City

( jenneink.blogs.com/jennethink/2007/07/stranger-within.html ).

In skimming only the first few other postings I saw that any number of travelers had also unexpectedly come across the Prayer in all kinds of hotels across the Country (one in Williamsburg, Kentucky at the Cumberland Inn, another the Embassy Suites in St. Charles, Missouri (near St. Louis), etc., etc.) and thought enough of it to post their experiences. It had been discussed on a forum of a national hotel chain. The prayer and its message also showed up on various web sites: alternative lodgings, churches, and others.

So quite obviously it hadn’t been just me; here was a message with a power of its own, that all kinds of people in all kinds of places were thirsty to receive. Now seems the time.

And so I share it here, its wonderfully simple language changed only a bit. (I must say, I love it that both of our properties share a common Garden Gate, so the prayer seems a propos in a particular and special way.)






In ancient times there was a prayer for “The Stranger within our gates.”

You are here because you have accepted our invitation to hospitality, and we are grateful and glad. Hosts among the Inuit people, sometimes called the Eskimo, customarily greet their guests with this heartfelt acknowledgment: “You bless our Home with your presence.” May you experience peace, rest, and a promise of refreshment while you are here.

May this Cottage and its gardens be your “second” home. May those you love be near you in thoughts and dreams. Even though we may not get to know you, we hope that you will be comfortable and happy as if you were in your own house. Or even happier, and happier still to return at last to your own bed.

May the business that brought you our way prosper. May every call you make and every message you receive add to your joy. When you leave, may your journey be safe.

We are all travelers. From “birth till death” we travel between the eternities. May these days be pleasant for you, profitable for society, helpful for those you meet, and a joy to those who know and love you best.




And by night.

Amen.