Tagged with Prayer

The way of tears and fire

The way of tears and fire

In the way of tears, we become prayer; we no longer labour under the illusion of prayer as technology…  We do not pray; we are prayed. Maggie Ross, The Fountain and the Furnace: The Way of Tears and Fire. The tears poured down my face yesterday.  Cycling for hours.  Albeit with an unexpected break at lunchtime.  … Continue reading

The future is now

The future is now

So, the future is now? It echoes round my mind, the question she asked.  Although, knowing her, I suspect it was more likely gentle statement. It echoes because I heard him the first time. I heard him say how it would be and what it would mean.  I heard him invite me to live in … Continue reading

Words escape me

Words escape me

Words escape me. And I feel the shame of it.  For how can I pray without words?   Words escape me. And I feel the surprise of it.  For words are my tool. Words escape me.  And I realise that it has been this way for some time.  Prayer like walking up the steepest of hills, … Continue reading

Niceness, wildness tamed

Niceness, wildness tamed

What if the only way to go deeper is the way I don’t want to go?  The way that I have resisted year upon year.  An edge along which I’ve danced but which I’ve never gone over. Never over that edge. I have been the good girl.  The one who doesn’t lose control.  Whose make … Continue reading

The hermeneutic of heaven

The hermeneutic of heaven

My beads came with me to the abbey. And, yes, that would be the abbey we feared being thrown out of for being too noisy.  The same abbey where I chewed repeatedly over the ethic of climbing out after Compline to go to the pub. I didn’t have to.  Climb out, that is.  And, despite … Continue reading

Each bead a prayer

Each bead a prayer

The beads ground me.  Round and round their thread I go.  One by one they slide through fingers.  Polished smooth, though not yet by use. Cross in hand, each bead a prayer.  The knots my selah reminder to breathe, to wait.  Then bead to ask that he would speak.  More knots, more breathing, more stilling: a waiting … Continue reading

It is time

It is time

It is time for silence to do its work. I knew that it would be so.  That for too many months I have been running at a pace which would be arrested by only one thing.  And so I planned it, weeks ago, when I knew that this moment would come.  Two days and two nights … Continue reading

A strength learned

A strength learned

The measure of strength as a virtue of character is not how much pressure one can exert against others but how much stress one can absorb without breaking apart.  The strong person is not impervious to pain but persevering in purpose. Ray Anderson, Soulprints I have learned about strength over recent months.  I have learned … Continue reading

Just dancing

Just dancing

Teresa of Avila’s cell (photo credit) Dancing.  Just dancing. The question slammed into my heart with all the finesse of a well-aimed wrecking ball.  Over a double-shot flat white in a trendy place near Kings Cross, a friend asked me why I was dancing between the place of hiddenness and the place of presence to people.  Why … Continue reading

Subversive prophetic

Subversive prophetic

Subversive is not a word which figures often in my vocabulary.  Chloe is the quiet one, the one who prefers the way of peace and generally opts for compliance. Though some of you think me unafraid to say it like it is, I hold back.  More than you’d know.  I find a way to silence my own … Continue reading