This Little Light

Let your light shine,

And when the times come where you feel too weak to hold it,

I will lift yours alongside mine,

Until you can carry it again.

And when I begin to weary,

You, my friend, shall do the same for me.

For:

"One candle loses nothing by lighting another."

We all will make it through the darkness with compassion and love to guide our steps.

10/15 - Do What You Love

Do what you love and follow your heart.  It will lead to memorable moments, doing things you never thought you'd do, even on a very simple and small kind of scale.  When we come to the end of life, it will consist of what we did or did not do - I hope to look back on a life of choices guided by my truest self.

Guiding Light

"'For I know the plans I have for you,' declares the Lord, 'plans to prosper you and not harm you, plans to give you hope and a future.'"

Jeremiah 29:11

This is one of my favorite verses that always comes to mind when the future starts to feel uncertain or unclear. And it is entirely true. All I know that has come into my life, making it full of goodness and joy, has come from trusting that still, small voice - a voice that can only be heard when we allow our hearts and our minds to be quiet, rest, and listen for it. 

All shall be made right. Every day has a bit of hope in it, a bit of light to guide us along the right path. We will not be led astray. 

Be Held

You shall be provided for,
My child, my child.
Behold the One who loves you
And simply
Be held.

Let go of your own ways,
Your own striving,
Your own pushing and pulling,
Your trying to be,
And simply
Be held.

Be held
In the Way
In the Truth
In the Light
In the Sacred Heart.
Simply
Be held.

Goosebumps

Knowing a
Truth
to the core of my being;
this is knowing
Love --
one given for all
and one shared.
Two moments of
goosebumps
today.

Not my will

Not my will but Yours be done
O Evening Star and Morning Sun
Not my will but Yours alone
My Hope, my Strength, my Cornerstone

I surrender all I am
Trusting in Your guiding hand
You ask for the best and worst of me
Melting it to purity

Things Aren't Always What They Seem

Talk about a theme of the week.
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I was stewing in  thoughts of feeling lonely and sorry for myself on my ride home tonight when a man across the aisle from me tapped me on the shoulder.  He was solidly middle aged, bald, with rotund features and watery blue eyes, wearing black jeans, a black t-shirt, and a black leather jacket, all tinged with grime.  My music was low enough to hear the people around me murmuring, but I only saw him mouth words at me. I yanked one earbud out, "Sorry, what?"

"Nineteenth avenue?" I thought I heard him say.  He was barely moving his lips and he had a heavy Eastern European accent, but his eyes were asking a question.  "Oh, it's up ahead.  About five stops or so."  His smiled gratefully, though slightly off somehow, and murmured unintelligibly.  "Sorry, I can't hear you," I said, yanking out the other earbud.  He reached out his meaty hand again to pat my shoulder.  "You are beautiful," he garbled.

Uhhhh ... "Thank you."  I gave what I hoped was a tight smile and turned away again.  But he was persistent and tapped my shoulder again.  "Nineteenth...?"  "Yes.  It's up ahead."  Can't you tell I'm uncomfortable here, buddy? He looked me square in the eyes - "You are beautiful."  "Thank you."  This time I physically shifted over in my seat and made it a point to disengage my energy and attention from him and put my headphones back on.  He seemed to get the message and turned forward again, apparently placated.

A sudden realization bloomed in my heart.  That was God.  The fog of my sad, poor me thoughts cleared away completely and my whole being relaxed.  That was God telling me that that everything is going to be okay.

We reached Nineteenth a few minutes later.  Tap tap tap on my shoulder again.   "Nineteenth?"  Earbuds back out.  "Yep this is it."  "You are beautiful."  He smiled again.  "I have a daughter... just like..."  One more small smile on my part.  He looked at me again, squarely, "God bless you."  Then he stood to get up off the train and swayed a little as he meandered down the step -- ah, definitely drunk.  Got it.  But that didn't change what I felt to be true.  I hope he'll be alright...

As the doors closed, a kind looking older gentleman who was seated in the row of senior/disabled seating grinned at me.  "Well, at least he turned out harmless.  He was definitely making us all uncomfortable."  "Yeah," chimed in the girlfriend of a boy/girl pair seated across from him, "I'm just sorry he kept touching you."  I shrugged, "Yeah, it turned out okay."  "Ugh, it just irks me -- he wouldn't have touched you if you were a man," she continued.  Probably true, I agreed in my head, and stood up to get off at my stop.  I thought I should say thank you for their concern as I left, but the stark contrast between my inner feelings and their reactions to the situation left me conflicted.  I opted for a quick turn around and wave to the older gentleman as I stepped onto the curb.  He grinned and waved back in return.
----------------------

This whole situation just highlighted for me how some things aren't always what they seem.  My experience was not that of my neighbors.  And perhaps (as a lot of people would probably argue) my interpretation of the initial situation was skewed by some naive inclination to seek meaning in my every day life.  To that, I can only say ... I don't know.  All I do know is that that man gave my heart an answer to a question I didn't even know it was asking in that moment.  I called out and was answered by the most unlikely person and for that reason, I know it was special.

It's squirmy and writhing in the pit of my stomach.  It slithers in the back of my head.  It wraps around my heart and squeezes ever so slowly.  

I'm afraid.

I'm afraid of the black hole I sense looming before me.  I can't even see it yet, but I know that it's lurking, just around a few bends in the road.  My steps are reluctant and weighted.  I want each day to be as long as it can, to turn the hourglass back.

I'm trusting.

In spite of my fear, I want to go on.  I know what's ahead will be good, though not easy.  I might need even more strength than it takes for me to keep my feet on the path right now.  I feel hands holding me and lifting me.  I will keep holding those hands and they will not let go.