Dear Pamela,

Do you remember this pathway?  Do you remember when you first led me up this grassy trail to the Abbey Church? It looked a bit different then because the leaves were changing, falling from the trees even.  But don't you remember when we silently strode up this incline to sit with the monks for terse, vespers and compline?  As I walked this path this past week without you, I could feel your presence there- yours and the Holy Spirit's.  Your kind and encouraging words rang in my ears, "You are never alone.  God is always with you. Nothing can harm you, do not be afraid." I know you were praying for me this week, I could feel it. . . I managed to "just be" which is what I said I wanted to do this summer the last time I spoke to you.  Do you remember that conversation?  It's kind of a new thing for me. . . to just be.  I cannot say it is any easy endeavor for one such as me who has to be occupied all the time, who fights the inner voices that say that if I am not busy then I must be lazy, worthless, uninteresting.  I am learning to not listen to those voices. . . and to be intentional about my time fully immersed in the presence of God no matter if I am away or at home. 

Yours,

Amy

Dear Amy, 

I do remember!  

I have always been grateful for its meandering welcome.  I have walked it at various tempos, but my favorite is the lingering tempo when I can pause as the Spirit invites.  Sometimes it is a sight.  Sometimes a subtle movement of a warbler--or it could be the leap of a deer.  Sometimes it is a sound.  The bell from the Abbey or the song of a meadowlark.  Still other times there is a fragrance -- the sweetness of honeysuckle, the spice of hay, or the heavy breath of the bread floating from the monastery bakery.

The walk is significant.  Step by step toward the heart.  Settle the mind.  Turn away from the voices of others.  Allow your pulse to calm until it is moving in sync with the pulse of God's love extended to you in Christ.  

It seems significant that this time you journeyed to the Abbey without me.  It seems that is a powerful integration that the desire to "be with God" has taken root in the life of Amy.  Oh, of course you will continue to face the temptation to be occupied with matters of busy-ness or worry.  You may even fool yourself for a time, thinking that your day will matter more if you can "do" something that this or that person will deem important. 

The critical thing though, is that you have discovered the path to the One who knows you better than you know yourself.  You have walked the twists and turns.  You have settled on the benches of contemplation.  You have come home.  

Peace be with you! 

Pamela 

It is dangerous out there.

Dear Amy,

CS Lewis, (in Mere Christianity) said "We live in enemy occupied territory." How true!

I want to encourage you and others in pastoral leadership these days. Already the forces of darkness are assembling to threaten the bold confidence unleashed just a week ago. Already the marketers are singing the siren song that says that all that was given in Christ is not enough -- that there are more effective ways to meet our needs than the simplicity (and eloquence) of God's word.

As we move through these last days of Christmas, let's continue to proclaim clearly and boldly that Christ IS the light of the world. Always was, always will be -- words that speak of the timelessness of God's love. But it is the "IS" that folks these days need to hear, I think.

Please, please remember that. It is far too tempting to incline our ear towards the amplifying voices that this or that resolution, this or that new and improved for 2012 methodology will make us more contented or complete.

Tell me, friend, what are you seeing as the predominant force these days? Where do you see darkness? Where do you see light?

In Christ's love and light I hold you...

Pamela

Dear Pamela,


Thank you for that important reminder that Christ IS the light of this world.  The one who WAS, IS and IS TO COME.  


Dear friend, if I am honest with you and with myself, I always seem to wrestle with darkness around this time of year.  Even though each day is getting incrementally longer as we move toward Spring, the darkness often seeks to envelop me in its death grip.  I struggle with my thoughts, desires, and ennui.  Normally I'm a happy person who laughs easily, but the laughter doesn't always come so quickly in these dark days.  That in and of itself generally causes me some disturbance.  Not only that, but I am expected to be upbeat and joyful so a darker facade often is disconcerting to others.  It may even create anxiety in others who aren't sure "how to handle" me.  It can be a dangerous time for me I suppose.  So your reminder to cling to Christ does not fall on deaf ears.


I see darkness in other places around me, not just inside of me.  With being sequestered indoors I see my own children relying on "screens" to entertain them.  This seems to create a lack of sharpness in their thinking and a laziness in their moving.  So I follow them around and insist that they read books, practice piano, study for the spelling bee etc.  Is it any different for us adults?  Too much screen time leads to lazy-brain, and restlessness with a side of angst.  


I see light occasionally trying to stream through into human life these days.  It is fleeting however and seems to be way off in the distance.  It is a sign of hope, however, and a little bit of hope is often all we need to keep going.  An awareness of the dangers out there can serve to keep us on our toes. . . seeking refuge in the light of Christ.  


Thank you for holding me in your prayers and I promise to do the same,


Amy