Small things - everyday life

Last week I wrote a couple of posts about seemingly ordinary activities in ordinary life, questioning, really, or stating definitely that there seems to be nothing ordinary about life. After all, upright, living, breathing, thinking, caring, sometimes careless, loving child of God walking around on a globe spinning through space with millions of other creatures, some god-like and some not, searching for food, clothing, shelter, and the "meaning" of life - I mean, since many of us humans might fall or fit into those categories, does that mean our lives are ordinary? I don't know, but I keep coming upon events and statements that point to the fact that life is not ordinary - ordinary reads as "boring" doesn't it? Ordinary reads as not important to value other than one's own activity......

For example, yesterday I was finishing up Thomas Moore's, Care of the Soul, and this statement jumped off the page at me -

"The small things in everyday life are no less sacred than the great issues of human existence."

So what small things, brushing my teeth, bathing, reading morning prayer, noticing the cool air of the morning, the birds at the feeder, a trip to the grocery, a trip to the YMCA, a note to a grieving friend? How are these things sacred - upon reflection you know, they really are, but what if -

*I accidentally drive too fast in a school zone or in my child-filled neighborhood, whether children are present or not
*I become impatient with a fellow shopper in the checkout line who has decided to write a check rather than swipe a credit card, and is slower at writing than Methusaleh was
*I stop and think about dinner prep for myself and spouse rather than throwing in a boxed meal, or think to unload the dishwasher, just because, rather than waiting for him to do that task which he dislikes so much
*I think about volunteering to sit with a child and listen to them read in a language other than their own
*I take a moment to read a piece of literature that challenges my mind and daily activities
*I take a moment to remember the sick, the infirm, the young people of Iraq, the young people of the United States serving in Iraq or remember the prisoners in North Korea, the oppressed in China, the oppressed in America
*I take a moment to write a check to an organization that maintains God's credibility working in the world by feeding the hungry and sick
*I stop the car in order for a pedestrian in the crosswalk to tread safely across the street

Are these too ordinary to be sacred? What to do you think about small things in everyday life - are they just that - small? What small things in life might you consider sacred? Or do you just think small things don't matter and the word sacred just does not fit? I'd love to know what you think.

Photo - Toupee Man #1 of 3 in SS Triptych

July 4, 2009-May it be safe and happy for all

Lectio Divina - a faith tool

In Fall 2008 while attending a retreat centered on praying the hours, I purchased a book by Christine Valter Paintner and Lucy Wynkoop, entitled “Lectio Divina Contemplative Awakening and Awareness.” During a portion of the retreat, Ms. Valters Paintner led us through Lectio Divina exercises incorporating music, sacred icons, and Holy Scripture. Perhaps due to my current age and disposition as well as the skill of the leader, I found a new comfort with the discipline and have since used it purposely from time to time in my devotional practice.

This week as I opened the small book with which I’m accustomed to opening my personal prayer time, “A Diary of Private Prayer” by John Baillie, I was compelled to linger on the words of the prayer – captured by them. I felt the need to linger, to repeat, to study, to digest this prayer. A prayer I’ve read numerous times – in fact, every second day of the month for several years – strangely, I never left that prayer – it became the center for my worship. It said something different to me that I hadn't heard before – perhaps something that I especially needed to hear.

These are the opening words of that prayer – “O God my Creator and Redeemer, I may not go forth today except Thou dost accompany me with Thy blessing. Let not the vigor and freshness of the morning, or the glow of good health, or the present prosperity of my undertakings deceive me into a false reliance upon my own strength. All these good gifts have come to me from Thee. They were Thine to give and they are Thine also to curtail. They are not mine to keep; I do but hold them in trust; and only in continued dependence upon Thee, the Giver, can they be worthily enjoyed.”

There are several more paragraphs of the prayer but the point of this post is not so much the prayer but of the power of Lectio Divina and how the discipline of it seems to have pervaded not just my sacred reading, but my secular reading, writing, music and visual art experiences. Recently rereading and studying words and images that fell on my youthful ears and mind and meant little or nothing to me at first observance, I am now compelled to read again, discovering the same words fall on my mature ears rendering a completely different and very relevant result. The same Holy Scripture - stories of Jesus, the Jews, Herod, the woman at the well – they are the same familiar words but are now often so filled with power for me, I shake my head in disbelief at how I missed the message the first hundred times I read or heard the story. Being of faith but not of faith in the absolute literal dictation from God of Holy Scripture, I am awed with the power of it to teach and transform throughout my life, appropriate to the time and history of where I am in my faith journey. I am grateful for the knowledge of Lectio Divina and for the wisdom to apply it more and more often in my faith journey.

Have you experienced the discipline of Lectio Divina? Have you experienced the changing images that Holy Scripture brings to you in your life now as opposed to the first times you delved into it? Are you still surprised to see Holy Scripture evolving for you as your evolve in your own life as a person of faith?

Sensory recall - a gift

Image by Randy OHC via Flickr

Over at Lucy's site this week there was a post regarding being transported in time through memories, memories translated into joy and sometimes into unexpected exuberance when recalled. I highly recommend you visit her site for a read. I responded to the post about music having transported me in time as well, and I share my expanded thoughts of that transport here.

An album that I purchased and downloaded this year from ITunes is "Chant - Music for the Soul" by the Cistercian monks of Stift Heiligenkreuz. I knew I loved the music the first time I heard it but as I've played it again and again, I realized the why of my enchantment with "Chant."

The memories, brought to me by the Cistercian monks, are those of worship participation some years ago at a seminary in New York City. The music recalls the rich intonations and enhancement of strong, worshiping voices echoing back and forth across the chapel. The memory doesn't make me want to go back in time - just to remember and to feel that aura of a blessed moments there in worship.

The gift of memory is truly an amazing one and I don't take it for granted. Participating in worship in many places during my life, I feel blessed that some mornings as I make the bed or brew my decaf, I find music in my presence, in my mind; a hymn of unknown origin greeting me, simply, unconsciously. The memory of the last place I heard the music is not so important as the reminder that I'm receiving another gift besides just the tune. I'm receiving something holier and more blessed than perhaps my human mind can comprehend. I'm being reminded of worship some time, some place - either near or far - making me aware of the gift and of the spirit for which I yearn regularly. The gift and the spirit or there just for the asking, or the remembering, or just for the humming.

Do you speculate or consider right now your memory of blessed music, or a memorable sunset or site, to be a gift?......... or have you never thought about not having the memory of the music, the site? A blessing to have all. I try to remember that point regularly and Lucy's post reminded me of those blessings today. Did you need to be reminded also? Maybe?

Photo - General Theological Seminary of the Episcopal Church - The Good Shepherd Chapel - by Randy OHC via Flickr