The furnace gently whirs in the background warming the room and lulling the senses.  Its soft white noise soothes this moment quiet.  The muted glow of a single lamp falls gently across my lap as I wait for my world to awaken.

It has been a long morning – one of those that started well before daylight and lingers an eternity.  This first real “cold” morning of the season blows frigid outside my windows and I am caught between.

This is the week of Thanksgiving.  We have named it so and dance around it with parades, football, turkeys and pies.  We have filled it to the brim with food, family and fun but leave little room for grace and gratitude. We hunger for more and miss the treasures we already hold.

So here I sit watching the last few leaves fall from limbs stripped bare and ponder this truth.  This season has barely begun and I have far too quickly forgotten what has just ended.  The multicolored beauty so quickly overlooked and woefully, lost for eternity.  I struggle with transient nature of this world – the revolving door where graces walk in and graces walk out.

I don’t want to forget a moment and yet, I feel like I forget them all.

They are lost in the worry and the rush.  They are tossed aside for the things more pressing.  They are drowned out by that which howls louder.  Their gentle presence comes and goes with barely a notice and yet, I am wanting for it.

So now, in this present moment the words of St. Jerome echo long into my soul, “Begin to be now what you will be hereafter.”

Begin now.

The grace of this present moment will not tarry and I cannot hold what I do not to see or hear.

Begin now.

And, so I do.  Begin now to welcome in the graces and give gratitude before all else – before the incessant chatter of empty words; before the impatient demands of this harried world and before they vanish unnoticed. It seems fitting this week of Thanksgiving to hunger for what I already have and give thanks for all that already is.

“Lord, give me an open heart to find You everywhere, to glimpse the heaven enfolded in a bud, and to experience eternity in the smallest act of love.

Mother Teresa

Her words sliced the air between us.  To the casual observer these words would appear innocuous at best but between her and me they sliced deftly as newly sharpened knife.  Her anxiety and frustration found release in her words and dredged up something long since forgotten in me.  It was as if these words were a scalpel in the hands of skilled surgeon.  One who knew exactly where to cut to cause the most pain.

While I am sure she knew the bite with which she spoke. I doubt if she will never know the depth to which those words cut.  Now, I am left struggling with the aftermath in silence.

Yet, I know my silence, in this moment, is for the greater good – hers, mine and ours.

Community isn’t easy because it is made up of us – the broken and the fractured.  Amidst the splinters and the shards perfection will never be.  Yet, even in the most brittle bits the ugly-beautiful is sure to be found.

“The cure for pain is in the pain.”  (Rumi)

Her anxiety mixed with my past was heavy laden and if Rumi is right, the healing is there for the both of us.  It requires the moxie to dive in and hunt for it.  To get wet or get dirty is a necessity to lay hold of the needed cure and we can’t find it for anyone else but ourselves.

Community demands more of us for the love of others.  In the more, we must give less.  Less of our baggage, our hurts and our ills because if we are carrying those what can we really give?

Community pushes us past our limits.  It breaks open out hearts – splays them wide for all to see.

And yet, even in the mess it is ugly-beautiful.

I sit here in the waffling mix of emotions.  Tomorrow bears the pain of a friend.  Yesterday bore the weariness of my soul.  Today is just a mix of all.

Life is too short.

And yet, I sit here.  Midway, if not more, in my life and wondering if what I have done is good enough and if what remains will be full of more than I can ever imagine.

Midlife does this to you.  It is a mind game of wonder.  Introspection and regret becomes a dual edged sword.  It cuts through to the soul to expose the real and the lie.  The pain comes not from the cutting but from the discerning.

Who am I?

Some lies I have held so long their roots tangle deep.   It is hard to distinguish their forgery.  They have settled long and appear too real.

Yet, they are not – real.

Oh my God.

You whose artisan hands created me in the recesses of my mother’s womb – You who numbered my days and set my course – You who breathed life into my lungs – You who have carried me through my days, my years – forgive me.

Forgive me for settling for a less than existence in a more than life.

Forgive me my holding tightly to the whispers of “not good enough” than standing in the promise “in all things at all times, having all that you need, you will abound in every good work.”

Forgive me for choosing to live a guarded life when You have destined me to live abandoned.

Cut the pretense and the self-protection away.

Expose the real.

This is who I have longed and yet, feared to be.

Welcome…

I am looking forward to getting to know you.

This is for you.

You who have longed for days, weeks, years, a lifetime to feel the kick of life within but find yourself empty still

You who have outwardly smiled and laughed celebrating their joy while inside your pain was with knife-like precision stabbing your heart

You who have endured the questions, the suggestions and the comments from those who will never understand the depth of this emptiness

You who find yourself “less than” in a world where we can have everything

You who look “fine” on the outside but find yourself broken and bruised on the inside

You who long for this one day to quickly pass for it is not yours and may never be

This is for you who want to hide away avoiding the awkward moment where it is easier to smile empty than explain “I am not”

This is for you because I know

Because it is also for me….

Oh sweet friend, may we find the comfort in the only One who understands our broken places.

May we hold tight believing in His greater purpose even when we know it has never been our plan.

May we give up this invisible burden and hang on to His amazing grace.

May we dare to trust Him in the pain and yearn with hope to the future.

May we find comfort in knowing that every tear we cry is seen by

His loving eyes and captured by His loving heart.

On this day when we find ourselves left out…

May we find the strength within to move beyond this empty dream

and whisper thanks for all that is.

Uncontainable, immeasurable grace