Skip to main content

A Saturday Morning Meditation

I have showered, journalled, and now am scrolling through some of the Lenten reflections at The Painted Prayerbook:

Wash me thoroughly from my iniquity, and cleanse me from my sin. —Psalm 51.2

Creatures of dust and mud that we are—as we were reminded on Ash Wednesday, at the outset of this Lenten pilgrimage—it’s not that God needs for us to be all tidy in order to come into the presence of God. We are already there. Yet we carry so much that can serve to insulate us from recognizing and being present to the God who is always present to us, and who still perceives our beloved shape beneath the layers of grime that cling to our souls. The distractions we build our lives around; the harm we cause others or ourselves; our inability to see ourselves as God sees us: how might we allow God to wash all this away, not so that God can see us more clearly, but so that we can see the God who makes a home within us? (from Day 25)


Daaaaaaaang. I need these thoughts.


Restore to me the joy of your salvation, and sustain in me a willing spirit.—Psalm 51.12

And this is, after all, what the psalmist desires: not to wallow in his sins or berate himself eternally for his brokenness, but to rest in the God who does not abandon him. To rejoice in the God who knows all the broken pieces and who holds them in mercy and love. To enter into the restoration that God is always working to bring about.

How do you lean into this joy? How do you open yourself to let it in, even when you don’t feel whole? How do you welcome this joy that is present even in the midst of brokenness, this joy that is part of how God works within us to put the pieces together? Is there some place in your spirit that needs to be more willing, that needs God’s sustenance in order to live into the salvation—the wholeness, the deliverance, the freedom—that God intends for you? (from Day 27)

Comments

Popular posts from this blog

The ROM, The Earth & Procreation

Disclaimer: This post is intended to generate discussion and a sharing of many opinions. It is NOT intended to judge or condemn anyone's life choices. I had an unexpected moment at the ROM last month. C and I were listening to a presentation for kids on wildlife conservation (or rather, I was listening, and C was eagerly anticipating what live animal would come out next), when a statement caught my attention and still hasn't let go. For most of history, the earth could provide enough resources for the earth's human population. But today, our population is growing rapidly, increasing by 250 000 people every day... Forty years from now, it will require 2 Earths to provide sustainably for our survival as a human species. But we only have 1 Earth. 250 000 people. Every day. That is roughly twice the size of my hometown. In one day. So I did a little math. (First, I rounded down to 200 000, just in case the figures were inflated or failed to account for some sort o...

The Trip to Tanzania (don't read this post)

I think a bunch (most) of you know that I am going to Tanzania for a month this summer. If this is a new fact to you, or if this is a fact you don't particularly care about, or if you have any other reason at all, please feel free to skip this post. Because this is a post in which I ask for help. And I don't really like asking for help. I'm happier to have you skip this post and feel free of any sense of obligation or guilt than to read this post and then wonder if I'm secretly judging you for not helping me (I won't be). The only reason I'm writing this post is because multiple people asked me if I would be writing a support letter, and could they support my trip to Tanzania. The answer, in the typical sense, is no - I cannot get you charitable receipts in exchange for money given to a "sending organization," and I have no plans to send glowing prayer reports of the great "ministry work" I do while I'm gone. But the actual answer is ...

Simone Weil: On "Forms of the Implicit Love of God"

Simone Weil time again! One of the essays in Waiting for God  is entitled "Forms of the Implicit Love of God." Her main argument is that before a soul has "direct contact" with God, there are three types of love that are implicitly  the love of God, though they seem to have a different explicit  object. That is, in loving X, you are really loving Y. (in this case, Y = God). As for the X of the equation, she lists: Love of neighbor  Love of the beauty of the world  Love of religious practices  and a special sidebar to Friendship “Each has the virtue of a sacrament,” she writes. Each of these loves is something to be respected, honoured, and understood both symbolically and concretely. On each page of this essay, I found myself underlining profound, challenging, and thought-provoking words. There's so much to consider that I've gone back several times, mulling it over and wondering how my life would look if I truly believed even half of these thi...