Spreading My Wings

image from stardreamingwithsherrybluesky.blogspot.com. 

I'm spending a few days in private retreat, 

in northern California. 

Today, as I sat on a bluff and 
watched the Big River

flow into Mendocino Bay, 

I watched ravens fly overhead. 

Watching them swoop and soar, 

it reminded me of my mental preparations 
for Adrian to go to college, 

I knew he was entering a season of life 
for him to spread his wings

and really learn to fly on his own. 

What I hadn't considered is 

it also becomes a time for me 

to stretch my wings and experience life in a new way. 

I get to practice engaged motherhood differently. 

From afar and a bit removed, 

but with no less love, compassion, 
curiosity, and support

than before. 

I'm starting to sink into the joys 

of having more time to myself: 

Dinners with friends, 

leisurely conversations after church or meetings,

planning dinners I like -

that don't have to be teen friendly.

More time to write, more time to think, more time to be. 

I'm trying to be intentional about embracing

this new phase of life, 

and be fully present to the emotions, 

challenges and opportunities it brings me, 

and note how it may deepen my ministry. 

Pastoral Prayer, Daring

image from masondaring.com

Spirit of Life,

Connecting All Beings,

We pray with you today. 

Dare us to see the abundance

you put before us. 

Dare us to see the signs of spring all around: 

purple hyacinths, orange poppies, and red nasturtiums

blooming along highways and sidewalks. 

Dare us to look out of our bus window, 

or up from the road for just long enough

to see the wide expanse of the Mountains, 

etched clearly against the bright blue February sky, 

reaching out as if to embrace us. 

Dare us to walk out of our home

as the sun sets, 

so we can see the moon 

glowing from its evening perch. 

Dare us to engage in an act of boldness: 

to really look another human being in the eyes. 

To look, and to wonder, who IS this person? 

Dare us to be happy 

with our bodies, 

no matter what shape they are in. 

Dare us to sit in the silence, 

listening deeply for your still, small voice. 

everyday courage

I've been thinking about what it means for a regular person to have courage. 

In August, my church explored the concept of courage. 

Not the wild, brave courage of movies or adventure books. 

But the courage each of us calls into being

just so we can live our lives as fully as possible. 

I've been wondering if, as I get older, 

I am less likely to take risks (not physical risks)

but ricks of the heart. 

Trying out new things, new places, new ideas. 

Two weeks ago I took my son, Adrian, to college. 

He's going to the same school his dad and I both graduated from, 

University of Arkansas, Fayetteville (go Hogs!). 

As we walked around campus, 

I was struck with all the new experiences he will have, 

some good, some bad, 

but so many will be new things to him, 

and will shape his life. 

I couldn't help but think about how I felt when I got to U of A. 

How every new turn seemed like an adventure. 

The world a big possibility, 

even when I made bad decisions and had heartaches. 

At 40, I love my career in ministry, 

 my family, 

my house, 

my garden, 

my neighborhood, 

my friends. 

I'm a homebody who has to travel for work, 

and who loves nothing more than curling up at home

with a cup of hot tea, a good book, 

my sweet honey man, 

and our kitty. 

But I wonder, 

if my love for what is familiar

keeps me from trying new things. 

Does it damper in some way my everyday courage? 

Pastoral Prayer, We Gather Together

image from primitivehomedecors.com

God of Our Hearts, 

the Breathing of the World, 

Be with us. 

We gather in this community, 

carrying our hurts from last week, 

and may we find a space to lay down our burdens, 

if only for a moment. 

We gather together, 

seeking a moment of reprieve

from the busyness of everyday life. 

May we find space this morning to breathe deeply, 

and be nurtured by the quiet, 

if only for a moment. 

We gather as people of faith, 

longing for a chance 

at deep connection with another human being. 

Let us be brave enough 

to look into someone else’s eyes

and hear their story, 

and let us be courageous enough to tell our own, 

if only for a moment. 

We gather together, 

bearing witness to the joys and sorrows 

of each other’s lives.

We gather together, 

building strength for the week to come, 

girding us to meet a world so 

desperately in need of peace and healing.

Let our moments of compassion 

build on each other, 

bending the arc of the universe

ever more closely to justice.