Journey from Dark to Light

I dreamed last night that I was in this covered bridge. As I turned around to look back where I entered, the spring flowers and grass were wet with a lightly  falling rain. It was muddy, but beautiful. The grass glistened with raindrops and the flowers eagerly soaked up the moisture. I turned and looked at the dim tunnel interior. At the far end, the day was light and bright, the grass was green and growing. I stood, wondering how to get from here to there. Holy Week is here. Today is Palm Sunday. Waving the branches and singing "Hosannas!" we enter. If we sneak a look back, we can see the clouds gathering and the rain beginning. With Christ, we must walk through the darkened hours of the tunnel...Maundy Thursday, Good Friday, Holy Saturday. We will deny, we will fear, we will shed tears of sorrow and pain, we will watch the Light extinguish. At the end of the tunnel, though, there is the Light of glorious celebration...the Resurrection. To get from here to there....we walk through the darkness.

Stars

"When did I stop paying attention to the stars?" I wrote these words in my journal the other morning after stepping outside in the dark pre-dawn and whispering a soft 'bonjour' to the Big Dipper hanging low in the western sky. One night earlier in the week I was startled by my friend, Orion blazing high over the bare oak tree in my back yard. When did I stop seeing these old friends, these reminders that life is Life and much more immense than me and my petty problems? When did I get so caught up in the drama of my life that I ceased looking for starry reminders of the Divine presence in all of Life? Shame on me for neglecting my friends, the stars. Shame on me for forgetting to see the Divine in all of Nature...in the glitter of sunlight on fresh snow, in the pinpricks of green pushing out of the wet soil towards spring, in the honking of strings and strings of geese finally freed from frozen winter and winging their way north. Like the graceful Canada geese, I too, feel as if I've been freed from a frozen life. I feel ready to take wing. And seeing my Creator again in Nature, I trust that He will guide and protect me on my pilgrim's path as I move toward fulfilling His plan for my life.

Where Does This Path Lead?

As I spend time reflecting on images I receive, both mentally and through my camera, I'm struck by the ones that involve walking, paths, and feet. I even take photos of floors like this one that I took inside the Notre Dame de Beaulieu church in Cucuron. I love black and white design and the beautiful pattern of the tomette tiles intrigued me. What you can't see in this photo is the cool sheen of moisture on the floor. It was a very hot day outside, but the cool, dark interior of the church caused condensation on the tiles. This 'path' led from the heavy wooden doors in the back of the church up to the altar...very predictable. The paths in my life right now are not quite so predictable. As in this photo, they fade into the shadows, and I'm not quite sure where they lead. I think about the feet that have walked this tiled path...hundreds, maybe thousands over the years. Did they know where it was leading them, or like me, did they simply put their faith and trust in God and embrace the adventure of it all? Was their path smooth and cool like this one or filled with rocky obstacles and moments of hot, sweaty terror? Are there lessons for me to learn from their  feet, their journey?

Looking for the Way

Have you ever been here before? No, I don't mean looking up at the causse along the Lot River in southwest France; I mean at that point in your life when you face something that seems almost insurmountable? When Way appears blocked or so difficult that even starting on the path takes more energy than you think you have. You need to continue your journey; where do you go from here? I feel as if I'm at this place. I'm seeking the open door, the Way I'm supposed to go. I've read Parker Palmer's book, "Let Your Life Speak" over and over. I get it... doors open, doors close. The Way forward appears or the Way behind closes and is no longer an option. Well, here I am and nothing! I know some doors that have closed, but I'll be darned if I can find a door that is opening! I've read, I've talked with people, I've explored options, I've thought and thought until I feel about brain dead. I've prayed and sat listening in Centering Prayer, I've looked for clues in Scripture, I've inventoried my gifts, talents, and abilities and objectively identified my limits. Today I have an appointment with a woman who does pastoral counseling for clergy and also Spiritual Direction. Mary, my priest, suggested I speak with her about discerning my path and possibly exploring pilgrimage. I'm open to her ideas and thoughts. Hopefully, God will speak to me through her wisdom.

Shadow Side

This week I am exploring shadows for my online photography class,"Eyes of the Heart." My instructor, Christine Valters Paintner, is a Benedictine Oblate and integrates spiritual formation with contemplative practice and the expressive arts. She describes her website, Abbey of the Arts, as a 'virtual monastery.' So while our class assignments include 'receiving' photos from our world, they are also invite us to become deeply reflective and  to delve into our spiritual nature. This seems to dovetail nicely with my Lenten reflections as I sit and become still in order to  more deeply contemplate my life: good and bad, light and shadow. My shadow against the snow compelled me to receive it as I walked all bundled up against the cold this week. It almost yelled at me to stop and think: anything or anybody that stands in the Light will cast a Shadow. This is what makes us real, both pieces of our nature, both parts of our humanity. No one is perfect, no one except Father/Son/Holy Spirit is pure Light. Only by recognizing my shadow parts will I be able to embrace myself, God's beloved child and His creation.

Icon Update

I decided to sleuth around a bit on Google to see if I could find my 'pilgrim' icon. While I didn't find the exact image, I did find a few icon images of Mary robed in red with the same design on the cloth. Most of the Mary images show her with Jesus, but there are a few, like mine, that show her alone. So, perhaps my icon is Mary? Here's one I found while Googling that is similiar to my icon.