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Archive for the ‘Spiritual Growth’ Category

Click here to read more #spiritualjourney posts.  Thanks Holly for hosting this roundup!

Click here to read more #spiritualjourney posts. Thanks Holly for hosting this roundup!


Holly invites us to reflect on our spiritual journey each week. Today’s theme is Trust.

Trust quote

Maya, weaver of illusions,
how is it we trust the web, the nest,
the roof over our heads, we trust the stars
our guardians who gave us our alphabet?
We trust the turtle’s shell because
it, too, says house and how can we read
the footprints of birds on shoreline sand,
& October twigs that fall to the ground
in patterns that match the shell & stars?

Excerpt from House Spiders by Judith Vollmer

Read more of this poem here.

Trust is essential to living in this world. Embedded in the word trust is the word truth. One must be true to himself before he can be true to others. My One Little Word for 2014 is Open. Being Open is all about trust. Trusting my heart to lead me. Letting go and letting God. Giving over my need to control.

Prayer is at the center of trust. If I put my trust in God, I speak that trust in my prayer. “Not my will, but yours be done.” There is power in giving trust in prayer. I believe that power can influence the universe, move mountains, and heal.

Judith Vollmer’s poem speaks of trust in nature, the goodness of things such as house spiders. Her poem concludes with these lines: “I feel less and less like
a single self, more like
a weaver, myself, spelling out
formulae from what’s given
and from words.”

As I grow older, I feel less like a single self. I feel more a part of the family of things. I open myself to experience the world around me, and worry less about what it has to do with me. A few weeks ago, I stood by and watched a young student of mine bury her mother. I watched as she cringed at the sound of the casket being pushed into the mausoleum. This was not about me. I trusted God that I needed to be there. In the days that have followed, I realize that I had to share that experience with my student so that she would know that I know. She has complete trust in me. Sometimes trust is about giving up ourselves. Trust is about being present.

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Communion

Click here to read more #spiritualjourney posts.  Thanks Holly for hosting this roundup!

Click here to read more #spiritualjourney posts. Thanks Holly for hosting this roundup!

Holly invites us to reflect on our spiritual journey. The theme this week is communion. This invitation pushes me to reflect on my spiritual self. Whether you write on a public blog or in a private journal, take some time to reflect, to know your heart a little better, to spend time with God alone.

Take this bread.
Take this wine.
Make it yours.
Make it mine.

We come to the table
palms up and raised,
opening our hearts

for nourishment,
for renewal,
for strength,
for comfort.

The unleavened wafer
presses on my tongue
an imprint of God’s precious love.

I gaze into the cup of wine,
see a reflection–
my eyes, your eyes,
bound together,
in union–
communion.
–Margaret Simon

Gian Lorenzo Bernini - Dove of the Holy Spirit (ca. 1660, alabaster, Throne of St. Peter, St. Peter's Basilica, Vatican) Wikimedia Commons

Gian Lorenzo Bernini – Dove of the Holy Spirit (ca. 1660, alabaster, Throne of St. Peter, St. Peter’s Basilica, Vatican) Wikimedia Commons

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Click here to read more #spiritualjourney posts.  Thanks Holly for hosting this roundup!

Click here to read more #spiritualjourney posts. Thanks Holly for hosting this roundup!

Holly invites us to reflect on our spiritual journey every Thursday. This week’s theme is Forgiveness, but I am being one of those students who is writing off-topic.

I was reading with one of my students about Buddha. A woman whose child was dead came to him asking for a miracle. Buddha told her if she could find a house that death had not visited, he would save her child. Of course, this proved impossible. The woman accepted the child’s death and buried him.

Death affects us all. But a young vibrant girl should not have to face the death of her mother.

Yesterday I got the news that Emily’s mother had died suddenly and unexpectedly. Emily is a fourth grade student. She bounces into class. She hums songs all the time. She is full of life and joy. Emily should not have to face the death of her mother.

After I heard the news, I called Emily’s grandmother and gave her my cell number saying Emily could call me anytime. She did. It was good to hear her voice, but it was shaky and small and sad. I held back my tears, told her I loved her, and reminded her of Dot Day, the happy day we had together on Monday.

Later I called Healing House, a nonprofit organization that helps grieving children. What gentle calming voices! They told me they have a “koping kit” that they can drop off for us at the school. I talked to the director about how to tell my other students. She said to be as honest as possible. She also told me to allow them to come up with ways to comfort Emily.

My students are amazing; however, I don’t ever want to see those expressions again. Their eyes immediately shone with tears. Their mouths fell open. We talked, and I kept my own tears at bay. We decided they would write personal messages to Emily on our blog. On the post, I put a picture of Emily’s dot. One of the students brought up how happy we all were on Dot Day. I am grateful that I allowed them to have a day of pure creative fun.

These are some of their comments:

I am so sorry. We are crying tears for you. I hope to you see you soon. I am looking forward to cheering you up. I wish you and your family love and happiness. Hope you feel better. Kielan

I’ve gone through the same thing Emily. My grandfather died in 2012 and it took me a whole month to get over it. The whole GT class is worried for you. We hope you feel better real soon. Nigel

I do not know what the next few days or weeks will bring. None of us do. We will all experience tragedy as we all experience love and joy. My prayer for Emily is that she will become strong and resilient. She will be the best she can be. She will love life again and feel joy. For now, we will be present with her in her grief.

Emily dot

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Truth

Click here to read more #spiritualjourney posts.  Thanks Holly for hosting this roundup!

Click here to read more #spiritualjourney posts. Thanks Holly for hosting this roundup!

Holly Meuller invites fellow bloggers to reflect on our spiritual journey each week. The theme this week is TRUTH.

I am not a true believer. I do not believe that everything happens for a reason. I do not believe that God has total control. I believe that God is real and true. I believe that we are given free will and with that gift, we can make the choice to nurture the God within.

Morning moon

Morning moon

Morning moon glow

Morning moon glow

I started the day thinking about truth. Looking into the sky before dawn, the full harvest moon looked down on me. My camera in my phone could not tell the truth. These photos do not show what I saw. Are these photos a lie? My husband and I discussed this dilemma. He said that now that he has had cataract surgery and has lens implants, everything he sees is a lie. Actually, everything we all see is only true to us, clouded by our vision or our perception.

The Bible is full of metaphor. Metaphor points to truth, but the message is not always visible.

The kingdom of God is…
a mustard seed,
a pearl,
a lost coin.

The Good Shepherd watches over his sheep,
knows them by name,
and goes out to look for the lost one.

One of my favorite poets is Mary Oliver. She writes with precise simplicity that speaks volumes. In A Thousand Mornings, she brings us into her daily morning meditations. Her poem “On Traveling to Beautiful Places” speaks of the search for God and for truth.

Every day I’m still looking for God
and I’m still finding him everywhere,
in the dust, in the flowerbeds.
Certainly in the oceans,
in the islands that lay in the distance
continents of ice, countries of sand
each with its own set of creatures
and God, by whatever name.
How perfect to be aboard a ship with
maybe a hundred years still in my pocket.
But it’s late, for all of us,
and in truth the only ship there is
is the ship we are all on
burning the world as we go.

-Mary Oliver, A Thousand Mornings, New York: Penguin Press, 2012. 67.

As I contemplate truth, I realize that there is no real truth. We are on a journey of discovery, doing the best we can with what we have. Truth is blurry, hard to see, like the moon in a photograph. Yet, it is there waiting to be discovered.

(After I finished writing this post, serendipity sent me the message that it was Mary Oliver’s birthday.)

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Blessed Be

Click here to read more #spiritualjourney posts.  Thanks Holly for hosting this roundup!

Click here to read more #spiritualjourney posts. Thanks Holly for hosting this roundup!

country road

Holly’s theme this week for Spiritual Journey Thursday is “Glory to God Alone.”

Berakhah* to the Creator of all blessings,
the one in whom I trust.

Blessed be my every day,
even when the car needs repair
or the message is delayed,
Internet is down,
and computer displays an error.

May I praise God anyway.

When the four-year-old waves
and the special child grins,
I know in whose presence I am.

Blessed be.

Live oaks reveal God’s name,
open resurrection fern.
Rainbows wrap a blind man in color.
A sad man feels my embrace.

We are the human ones–
flawed, incomplete, holy.
Blessed be.

–Margaret Simon, all rights reserved

Bernard oak

*In Judaism, barakhah is a blessing. The function of berakhah is to acknowledge God as the source of all blessing.

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Click here to read more #spiritualjourney posts.  Thanks Holly for hosting this roundup!

Click here to read more #spiritualjourney posts. Thanks Holly for hosting this roundup!

Holly Mueller started this inspiring roundup of writing about out spiritual journey. She tweeted the theme: Patience.

It’s raining. Again. This happens almost every afternoon. It’s rather soothing if you don’t have to go to the bank, the grocery store, and the post office, but these errands happen. Rain happens. Patience doesn’t always happen.

Dance in the rain

Patience is a hard won skill. As a young teacher, I was not very patient. I got angry. I would yell. This embarrasses me now. Patience comes with age and for me, patience came after severe pain.

When I was 34 years old, I turned over in bed and blew a disc in my neck. The pain was unbearable, like a blow torch through my shoulder. Muscle spasms throbbed. I lost strength in my right arm. My thumb through my elbow became numb. An MRI showed a herneated disc at C-5. Surgery.

Having surgery of any kind brings death closer and makes it more real. I had three young daughters at the time. I cried and prayed. I lay in bed on pain medication and my mind would play with me. I felt crazy.

The spinal surgery worked. The herneation was removed. Healing came. In the process of healing, patience visited me. I somehow became calmer. Little things did not bother me as much. I found life had a deeper purpose.

I believe in the resurrection. In our lives, we experience many deaths and resurrections. Through each one, God teaches us a new lesson. The lesson of pain and surgery was patience. I may not be out dancing in the rain, but I can look to the wet grey sky and praise God. I know the importance of patience, of kindness, of love.

34887-Be-Joyful-In-Hope

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Click here to read more #spiritualjourney posts.  Thanks Holly for hosting this roundup!

Click here to read more #spiritualjourney posts. Thanks Holly for hosting this roundup!

My dance instructor, Lou, dances with legendary Zydeco Joe.

My dance instructor, Lou, dances with legendary Zydeco Joe.

I have been maddened, saddened, and frustrated by the happenings in Ferguson, Missouri. Could this happen in my own home town?

I asked this question to the line of people at Solomon House on Tuesday morning. Solomon House is an outreach mission that distributes groceries once a week to the poor in our community. I go every Tuesday morning around 7 AM and greet the clients. This Tuesday our Executive Director was out of town. She usually gives the devotional. I was asked to do it in her absence.

Clients wait for Brown Bag give out at Solomon House.

Clients wait for Brown Bag give out at Solomon House.


I was a bit emotional and nervous to address this mixed crowd. As I looked at the group, I saw white men and women as well as black men and women, young and old. Poverty does not know race. Neither does God.

I continued with my talk.

My husband and I love to Zydeco dance. We are two white people who didn’t know how to dance until we started taking lessons three or so years ago. Now we enjoy going out to dance. Zydeco dancers come in all colors. There are black men dancing with white women, old dancing with young, and women dancing with women. God wants us to be like Zydeco dancers. He wants us all to dance together no matter how old we are or what color we are.

I am also a teacher. I teach young elementary students. In the cafeteria yesterday, as the kindergarten students are getting accustomed to school, I asked an older student to take a kindergarten student to class. They held hands without hesitation, a black child and a white child. Children do not know prejudice.

Let us be like Zydeco dancers and like children. Let us hold hands and dance together.

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Spiritual Journey thursday

Holly Mueller invites us to reflect on our spiritual journey every Thursday. Today’s theme is Joy. Please visit her site to link up and read more posts about Joy.

joy-quotes-pictures-3-f2ad07ee

Sometimes when I’m not looking, and even on those days when frustrations abound.

Joy finds me.

In the morning, the sun shines a beam on the bayou.

Joy finds me.

A child’s eyes light up and smile.

Joy finds me.

A favorite song comes on; I sing along.

Joy finds me.

A cloud looks like Tilly, the wonder dog.

Joy finds me.

A friend sends a text, “You’re a gift.”

Joy finds me.

A cup of coffee when the bones wear thin.

Joy finds me.

A wagging tail and a slobbery lick.

Joy finds me.

The setting sun shines orange, purple, red.

Joy finds me.

The moon rises full; Pleiades sends showers.

Joy finds me.

Where does Joy find you?

Bayou morning photo by Margaret Simon

Bayou morning photo by Margaret Simon

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Join the Poetry Friday Round-up at A Year of Reading with Mary Lee.

Join the Poetry Friday Round-up at A Year of Reading with Mary Lee.


sunset 1

Follow this link to read more spiritual journey posts.

Follow this link to read more spiritual journey posts.

This post is serving dual purposes. Since it is Friday, it serves as my Poetry Friday post, an original poem I wrote this week after a typical trip to the grocery store. The second purpose is for Spiritual Journey Thursday. Holly started this blog roundup a few months ago. Her theme this week is wonder and awe. I was filled with wonder and awe at this sunburst in the sky. Holly’s post is about her mission trip to the Czech Republic. It is worth a read.

Yesterday was a wonderfully busy day filled with school orientation, seeing my students, and our anniversary. Jeff and I danced the night away to our favorite zydeco band, Geno Delafose and the French Rockin Boogie. Thirty-two years and we’re still having fun! (Sorry, Holly, for ignoring your tweets, but I was a little dizzy busy.)

Chasing the Horizon

Driving from an evening grocery stop,
I chase the dramatic horizon
drawing me home.

The cats look forlorn
at my passing car,
oblivious to the sun I seek.

I drive to the cul-de-sac
snapping images with my phone
that fail to capture
the brilliance.

Setting sun peers over
white-tipped clouds
bursting with blue water.

I stop my car,
jump out to the field
as to pursue an escaped kite.

The only bystander watches her dog
as he marks every bush and cluster of weeds.
She talks loudly on her cell phone.

I want to shout, “Look up at the glorious sky!”

But I stay silent,
climb back into my car,
turn toward home,
satisfied that God
just handed me
a daisy.

— Margaret Simon

sunset 3

Images informing writing: Join the photo-a-day challenge.

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Poetry Friday Round-up is here today!

Poetry Friday Round-up is here today!

deception pass 1

This summer I have been thinking a lot about images, how images can fuel writing and creativity. I made a six-image memoir in response to a prompt by Kevin Hodgson on the Make Learning Connected site. Kim Douillard’s posts on Thinking Through my Lens make me think about the images I take responding to a theme. This week, Kim wrote about water, “Like water, there is power in writing. Power to connect, to heal, to think and reflect. We sometimes forget that writing in unexpected places creates new urgency and agency for our writing. So go outside, find a place by a river, on the curb, under a tree, or even sit on the car bumper and see what writing comes when you change your lens.”

Deception rocks

I climbed the high rock on the beach at Deception Pass on Whitbey Island, Washington on Tuesday. I took my notebook with me, a little pocket-sized one. Here is my journal entry:

You have to know the tides. Deception is easy looking off at the horizon reflecting on blue water, showing Mt. Baker–snowtopped snowball. The rocky beach offers smooth stones for your collection, stones of every color & size. We don’t have rocks like these at home in the south where the beaches are sand & shells, Gulf, not Pacific. Yet, I can close my eyes & breathe in the salty air, listen to the soft hum of the waves.
Beaches are like this–offering to us along with a sense of adventure, danger, of deception, the feeling of comfort, peace, of all being right with the world. I have my place on top of this huge jutting black rock. I can see Canada from here. I taste the seaweed & salt.
God wants us to marvel every day, to be alert, pay attention. Be still and know. I am grateful for this gift of sea, air, smooth stones, and a space to sit, reflect, write, and know that even though I am a mere speck of sand or a single stone, I have a name.

deception pass 3

This entry became a poem for Carol Varsalona’s Gallery Collection “Reflect with Me Summer Serenity.” This is only draft three, so you can offer revision suggestions.

Deception Pass, Whidbey Island, July, 2014

The clouds always keep us guessing,
so you have to know the tides.

Deception is easy, looking only
at the horizon line. Sometimes masked as a cloud,

the snow-topped mountain in the distance
deceives us, too.

The rocky beach becomes my foot hold,
a path of colorful stones washed smooth

by the constant lapping of the water.
I close my eyes to the salty air, listen

to the hum-swish of waves crashing the shore,
hear in them the possibility of danger.

Guided by the presence of the moon,
the sea gives and takes.

In the grit on my tongue, I can taste
the unleavened bread of sacrifice.

Be still and know is all I must do.
Marvel at the wonders of rock and air and sea.

Margaret Simon, all rights reserved

Join in the Poetry Friday fun with your link. Use Mr. Linky. Don’t forget to come back and check out the links. I hope to comment to everyone (at least that is my goal.)

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