#1000
gratitude
Prayer by Eric Doyle, OFM
Lord of my origin
Draw me closer to you
Lord of my existence
Direct all my ways
Lord of my calling
Give me strength to go on
Lord of my faith
Preserve me from doubt
Lord of my hope
Keep me from despair
Lord of my love
Let me never grow cold
Lord of my past
May I never forget you
Lord of my present
Be near me always
Lord of my future
Keep me faithful to the end
Lord of my life
Let me live in your presence
Lord of my death
Receive me at last
Lord of my eternity
Bless me forever. Amen
(Photo: Evergreen Cemetery – Portland, Maine, August 2019)
Take two bodies and twirl them into one…hearts and bones…and they won’t come undone (Paul Simon)
August Prayer
This morning I give thanks
for breath
for breathing
I give thanks for
open windows and
French doors half-opened
and half-shut
This morning I give thanks
for clear glass tumblers
of cold Sebago water
and the crickets
of course and the crows
thanks for the cool
wash cloth
the comfort of hands
thanks for the taste of lemon
and the hair brush
this morning
I give thanks
for the shadow
that lingers a moment
then leaves the world
(photo: Portland, Maine – August 2014)
The Welcoming Prayer (by Father Thomas Keating)
Welcome, welcome, welcome.
I welcome everything that comes to me today
because I know it’s for my healing.
I welcome all thoughts, feelings, emotions, persons,
situations, and conditions.
I let go of my desire for power and control.
I let go of my desire for affection, esteem,
approval and pleasure.
I let go of my desire for survival and security.
I let go of my desire to change any situation,
condition, person or myself.
I open to the love and presence of God and
God’s action within. Amen.
As Ripeness Comes – Rumi
What souls desire arrives.
We are standing up to our necks
in the sacred pool. Majesty is here.
The grains of the earth take in something
they do not understand.
Where did this come from?
It comes from where your longing comes.
From which direction?
As ripeness comes to fruit.
This answer lights a candle
in the chest of anyone who hears.
Most people only look for the way when they hurt.
Pain is a fine path to the unknowable.
But today is different.
Today the quality we call splendor
puts on human clothes, walks through the door,
closes it behind, and sits down with us
in this companionship.
Recall the joy of discovery
To keep the spirit of eternal youth active in us during the second half of life, we must learn again to play with our experience. Recall the joy of discovery before it bowed to work, obligation, and duty. Movement is alive; inertia is dead. We become more “unalive” as we cling to that which is predictable and unchanging. Enthusiasm is closely related to the spirit of play – the word comes from the ancient Greek theos, meaning “god.” To have enthusiasm is to allow yourself to be filled with divine assistance, so the ego does not need to handle your tasks by itself.
– Robert A. Johnson, from Living Your Unlived Life
The Franciscan School of Theology
This image of the former Franciscan School of Theology in Berkeley, CA goes straight to my heart. It was right about this time in 2003 that I climbed “Holy Hill” in Berkeley and first laid eyes on FST – the beautiful Tuscan yellow building at the top of the hill – the corner of Euclid and LeConte. I spent the next three years there immersed in the spirit of Francis and Clare of Assisi. I am so grateful for that time.
FST is now affiliated with The University of San Diego (https://www.fst.edu/)
Happy 85th Birthday, Wendell Berry
The Peace of Wild Things
BY WENDELL BERRY
When despair for the world grows in me
and I wake in the night at the least sound
in fear of what my life and my children’s lives may be,
I go and lie down where the wood drake
rests in his beauty on the water, and the great heron feeds.
I come into the peace of wild things
who do not tax their lives with forethought
of grief. I come into the presence of still water.
And I feel above me the day-blind stars
waiting with their light. For a time
I rest in the grace of the world, and am free.
The reality of now
The grip the present has on me. That is the one thing that has grown most noticeably in the spiritual life – nothing much else has. The rest dims as it should. I am getting older. The reality of now – the unreality of the rest. The unreality of ideas and explanations and formulas. I am. The unreality of all the rest. The pigs shriek. Butterflies dance together against the blue sky at the end of the woodshed. The buzz saw stands outside there, half covered with dirty and tattered canvas. The trees are fresh and green in the sun (more rain yesterday). Small clouds, inexpressibly beautiful and silent and eloquent, over the silent woodlands. What a celebration of light, quietness, and glory! This is my feast, sitting here in the straw!
– Thomas Merton, journal entry – August 25, 1958
(photo: Runaround Pond, Maine – June 2019)
Edge of Atlantic 