Thursday, March 9, 2017

Rekindle the Gift

One of the readings of today is these words of Paul to Timothy

For this reason I remind you to rekindle the gift of God that is within you through the laying on of my hands; for God did not give us a spirit of cowardice, but rather a spirit of power and of love and of self-discipline. (2 Timothy 1: 7)

I write this as I prepare for a drive to Akron to be with clergy colleagues followed by an afternoon with members of my "peer group" from the Wellstreams community.  What I have learned over and over again is that my faith is rekindled with others who are on this journey.  It often does feel like a "rekindling" when we come together to care about each other and to seek God's guidance together.

And the concept of the laying on of hands is also particularly meaningful to me as a Reiki practitioner. Last week I did reiki for a woman who is suffering through cancer treatment and I know that the warmth and the prayer of this sacred touch does change people by giving us a sense of God's spirit.

And so Lent needs to be a time of awareness of the need to rekindle.  It is really easy for the "fire" of faith to become less and less potent.  We can so easily fall into our own separate lives and concerns.


This poem by David White speaks to me today

Everything is Waiting for You

Your great mistake is to act the drama
as if you were alone.

 As if life
were a progressive and cunning crime
with no witness to the tiny hidden
transgressions. To feel abandoned is to deny
the intimacy of your surroundings.

even you, at times, have felt the grand array;
the swelling presence, and the chorus, crowding
out your solo voice. You must note
the way the soap dish enables you,
or the window latch grants you freedom.
Alertness is the hidden discipline of familiarity.
The stairs are your mentor of things
to come, the doors have always been there
to frighten you and invite you,
and the tiny speaker in the phone
is your dream-ladder to divinity.

Put down the weight of your aloneness and ease into
the conversation. The kettle is singing
even as it pours you a drink, the cooking pots
have left their arrogant aloofness and
seen the good in you at last. All the birds
and creatures of the world are unutterably

Everything is waiting for you.

By David Whyte

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