Another move, this time expected yet unexpected.
The news finally sinks in as the confirmation email arrives; from JetBlue.
Boston to Los Angeles, one-way, check in two hours in advance.
Meanwhile, decisions are made regarding what in life is important …
And can fit into two pieces of checked in baggage.
Unreasonable decisions, yet ones to be made.
Too fast now to consider, reflect, it is a time to act again.
As the skier leaves the top of the black diamond headwall,
There is no time for a change or heart, more baggage or dallying.
Just time to go, and trust in a divine darkness which beckons.
Scroll further for reflection
Each one takes light and deflects it, just a little,
Adding color, interest and a message to those it shines on.
Showing grace to all in their path.
† Alleluia. †
The Road is Paved,
Always present, yet unknown to me,
The road was paved.
Rubber necking in the hedgerows; searching for gleaming palaces,
Distraction and desires,
Amused for years, concealing myself with my selfishness.
Now all is clear.
The road is paved.
It is straight,
Simple and waiting,
For consent, intention and finally,
Desire to be aligned.
All that is left is action,
As the tractor beam of love draws me forward,
For there is no other option.
Consent is the willingness to be open,
To invite God and others to meet you
And to leave some distractions behind.
In hope you may be authentic
When you meet in a darkened, still room.
He stood among us
Not a stranger
Not Just divine
Which He was
But fully human.
Seemed like a Sayer of sooths
Interpreter of sacred scripture
Purveyor of knowledge
Which He was
But He was also us
He was with us
He was in us
He was us
He is the I am.
Not just authority
Not just more instructions
Like the Old Testament
This time human
So let us not watch
But watch through his eyes
Let us not hear the cries
But feel them in our hearts
Let us not standby
But act now
And make the noise of a Christian in the World.
Maybe a misunderstanding,
Or perhaps something more deliberate.
The simple, authentic soul keeps the truth clean,
Avoiding the avoidance,
Never dealing underhand.
But humble transparency in all.
Only then, can love emerge.
Desire is not the river,
But the current,
Drawing us into the eddies and still backwaters filled,
With self or joy.
Dependent on its source.
Hours are spent staring into the blackness,
And shapes emerge.
Shapes needing clothing, nourishment, warmth,
But most of all human love.
They cannot be ignored.
Unless you leave love behind.