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The gathering for Spiritual Journey Thursday is at Leap of Dave.

My friend-cousin-counselor-priest Annie told me to speak up. I was assigned to read the first reading on Pentecost Sunday. It was an important one, the one with all the languages spoken, the tongues of fire, the coming of the Holy Spirit. I needed to speak loud and with confidence into the nave of our historical church.

Under all the weight I am carrying, my voice is fading.

My voice
diminished
by hard things
grief
worry
heavy stuff
losing my way
losing my voice.

Ironically, before she made the comment, I had started a playlist “I Have a Voice” based on the duet by Alicia Keys and Brandi Carlisle. She suggested I add the song “One Voice” by the Wailin’ Jennys.

This beautiful song with a simple, yet strong message: We are not alone.
The message of Pentecost.
Jesus says, “I will not leave you orphaned.” (John 14:18)
Orphan is a lonely word.
As my mother falls deeper into the depths of dementia, I lose
the mother, confidante, nurse, and guiding light
she once was for me. Orphaned slowly.
Annie also told me this is a sacred time, a time when my mother’s hand is still
soft to touch. She still calls my name. She still smiles at the sound
of my voice. I am not alone.
Jesus calls us: “The Spirit of truth abides in you.” (John 14:17)
As my voice fades, Jesus’s spirit rises
to take over, to hold me, to lift my voice
to speak, to say, “I love you”
again and again.
I have a voice.

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Thank you to Two Writing Teachers for creating an amazing community of writers and a safe, welcoming space to write and share.

“Some days are like that…even in Australia” were the wise words of the mother to Alexander and the Terrible, Horrible, No Good, Very Bad Day by Judith Viorst. It’s good advice. This mother empathizes and reassures Alexander that life will go on and tomorrow will be better.

This message in my inbox this morning:

Type Four EnneaThought®

What would happen if you stopped trying to understand yourself today? Would your world fall apart? 

This morning is a new day, and I’m not feeling as sad or overwhelmed. I won’t chew on my heartstrings all day today. I have children to teach. This is what I am telling myself anyway.

Grief is a weird thing. We all have it in our backpacks that we carry through our lives. Sometimes, it stays back there, weighing little to nothing. You think you’ll be fine. Hey, look what I am carrying with little or no effort. Aren’t I the strong one?

Then someone hugs you, touches your shoulder, gives you that look of empathy, and you crumble. Yesterday our choir master was back at church after a few months away. His mother had been diagnosed with end stage cancer and after she died, his father willed himself to follow her. They had been married over 70 years. This is not my story to tell, but it may give some context for why my own grief hit me hard yesterday. I was overjoyed to see him, but as soon as I hugged him, the tears welled up.

I wanted to understand these feelings. It was Sunday and all the while I did my Sunday chores, yard work, laundry, and so on, I wanted to understand and the more I tried to understand, the more I cried.

Today is a new day. I am breathing. I have a plate full of things to do. I will be OK.

Without even knowing what was going on with me, my friend texted me this affirmation:

I offered my best self today.
It doesn’t matter if I did everything perfectly.
The day is now past and I will let it be.
I am looking forward to the morning.
I have the power to make tomorrow a great day.
I will feed my strength with sleep.
Tomorrow I will grow further.

Source unknown

Today is a new day, a new week, and I don’t have to understand myself.

My hand gathering strength from a tree, Women’s Wellness Retreat, Lake Fausse Pointe

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Thank you to Two Writing Teachers for creating an amazing community of writers and a safe, welcoming space to write and share.

Welcome to Day One of the 2023 Slice of Life Challenge. This challenge occurs every year during the month of March. Writing every day is good exercise for a writer. This challenge is sponsored by the Two Writing Teachers, a blog site for writing teachers. They post essays about the teaching of writing, but in March, it’s all about the teachers themselves who understand that being a teacher who writes strengthens the teaching of writing. We are a community of peers. Comments are welcome and encouraged. Comments are the sideline cheers for a marathon runner.

I decided for Lent this year I would read a page in the Bible and then write. I’m not committed to sharing each of these journal scribblings, but I’m starting off today with one.

I have been with you wherever you went and have cut off all your enemies from before you, and I will make for you a great name.

2 Samuel 7:9

Azalea Lane

I have planted you
in the clay soil of Louisiana.
Most of the year, like Persephone,
you are perfect, leafless, waiting.
You look dormant, dead, but
on the first day of March,
you blossom
and shine
like a pink sunrise
opening,
opening,
opening,
saying to the world,
“I’m here!
I’m wonderful!
I’m beautiful!”

I welcome March, a month of transformation from winter to spring, transformation through the daily practice of shared writing. Thanks for reading.

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The Spiritual Journey First Thursday is gathering at Bob’s site.

For this month’s Spiritual Journey posts, Bob asked us to use the theme “Colors of My Life” Ever since my father died in April, the color that reminds me to think of him is yellow.

One day in early June as I recovered ever so slowly from Covid, a male prothonotary warbler came to my window. He flapped his wings, showing off or defending his territory from his reflected invader I’m not sure which, but I internalized it as a visit from my father’s spirit.

Recently I was in an antique shop with my daughters, wandering as they shopped and I found a little ceramic yellow bird with a sweet succulent in it. Now it sits on my kitchen table. Do we need these little things? Probably not, but in some small way, they give comfort and hope.

My cat Fancy overlooks a succulent plant.

Yellow Through My Days

In a terra-cotta pot, daffodil
bulbs sprout, ones my dear friend
nurtured and planted for someday.

Someday, a yellow blossom
will pop open like a sparkle
of light welcoming spring.

Someday, a yellow prothonotary warbler
will find a house perched
at water’s edge, ready for nesting.

Someday, the yellowed pages
of a scrapbook will break
my heart.

But today, yellow is hiding
inside a bulb, on a southern shore
and in a cardboard box

for someday…

Margaret Simon, draft

Daffodils sprouting

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Grab the 2023 Spiritual Journey image for your blog posts.
Image by Henry Cancienne.

Do you select a One Little Word for the year? For years, I’ve been choosing a single word to guide my spiritual journey. Last year’s word was Enough. This word kept me in check. Whenever I questioned myself, I remembered “You are enough.” But as 2023 approached, I thought I wanted a more active word. I follow my good friend’s daughter on Instagram. Faith Broussard Cade has become an influencer under the name Fleur de lis Speaks. I clipped this recent post:

My new word for 2023 is Purpose.

What is my purpose?

Does this activity fit with my purpose?

Can I live each day with purpose?

I have been having mixed feelings about the word, so I talked it over with a friend. She offered me the wisdom that my purpose is with God, to bless others with my own faith.

My daughter got an oracle deck for Christmas. She said, “Just for fun, ask the oracle a question and pick a card.”

I kept the question to myself, but the card I picked was “Dancing Spirit” with a beautiful butterfly as the image. The main tenants were “Honoring Oneself”

*Build self-esteem

*Feeling the sweetness of life

* Sharing your inner light in a centered way.

I believe that purpose will continue to show up in my life. Funny how that happens.

I love to share the practice of choosing a word with students. I found some word beads and elastic string at Target, so my students each chose a word and I made them a bracelet.

Students share their one little word bracelets.

I asked them to write a post about their words by choosing a quote and writing about what the word means to them and why they chose it. It’s a fun way to greet the new year.

If you are joining the link up today, please click on the InLinkz below. If you’d like to join our group and host a month, follow this link to our google spreadsheet.

You are invited to the Inlinkz link party!Click here to enter

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Poetry Friday is with Catherine Flynn at Reading to the Core.

Today is the first Friday of the month. Time for the Inklings challenge. Molly challenged us to write a poem that answers an unasked question in the spirit of Amy Ludwig VanDerwater’s poem Answer. I was intrigued by the way that Mary Lee responded to this prompt by writing after Joe Cottonwood’s Because a Redwood Grove. I wanted to borrow the form and use a repeated because.

Because a Poem

Because upon entering
your breath is taken away
into aha,
yes-and,
me, too.

Because breath has power
to stop your heart
and fill it up again.

Because words seem to know what they are doing.

Because alongside stars,
rivers flow capturing refracted light.

Because something holy
happens here.

Because a poem
is enough.

Margaret Simon, draft

Other Inklings Responses to the Challenge:

Heidi
Molly
Mary Lee
Catherine
Linda

If you would like to join the host round-up for Spiritual Thursday 2023, fill out this form.

The first week of the month also brings Spiritual Thursday. This is a roundup of bloggers writing about their Spiritual Journey. Bob Hamera has the gathering at his blog. He selected the topic of Acceptance and Change.

I follow Faith Broussard on Instagram. Faith was a classmate of my daughter’s and she currently lives in Atlanta. On Instagram, she’s become an influencer known as Fleur-de-lis Speaks. I loved her message today, and she used my 2022 One Little Word, Enough.

My family has changed in the last year. We lost my Dad, and this month we will meet our newest granddaughter. I once had a mentor who told me that God is Change. I actually believe that God is the constant in change. God does not leave us where we are, ever. There are changes that are hard, and changes that are good. Whatever the change, our acceptance, our open arms, our breath is enough. I am enough.

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Our first Thursday Spiritual Journey gathering is hosted today by Fran Haley at lit bits and pieces.

Today is the first Thursday of November and a group of bloggers gather to share their spiritual journey. Fran selected the theme for today, holy. I immediately thought of the hymn Holy, Holy, Holy. I thought of the torn apart hymnal I was given by an artist friend to use for collage. I didn’t find that hymn but one that did use the word Holy. I wanted to create an erasure or black out poem. I googled Zentangle designs and set to work on the page.

This exercise became meditative and holy. I used a pen that I had picked up from my dad. He was a pointillist artist. I felt his presence as I imagined the time he spent making dots on a drawing. He was always fascinated by the play of dark and light. One of his favorite Bible verses was John 1:5 “The light shines in the darkness, and the darkness has not overcome it.”

Holy humble prayer
we clasp hands
worship deep

All love
is true

Sufjan Stevens has a wonderful version of Holy, Holy, Holy that I am placing here for you to listen to. These singers are wonderful, but they start goofing around on the video around the 3 minute mark.

Wishing you a happy and holy holiday season. What does holy mean to you?

If you are a Spiritual Thursday blogger and would like to host a month in 2023, please sign up on this Google document.

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Spiritual Journey First Thursday is hosted today by Chris Margocs.

For Spiritual Thursday, Chris suggested we write about “those who have passed and left something behind in our hearts.” My father died 5 months ago. My grief returns when I’m struck by something I want to share with him. A few weeks ago, we were driving to my daughter’s house to watch the LSU game and without realizing it, I thought about calling my dad to see if he was watching the game. Bam! Before I knew it, tears were welling up and I couldn’t speak.

I’ve started listening to a new podcast with Anderson Cooper on grief, All There Is. The episodes I’ve listened to are powerful and poignant. While I was blessed to have my father for 61 years, loss is loss is loss.

Anderson Cooper interviewed Stephen Colbert, and I was touched by what Colbert said about grief.

It’s a gift to exist. And with existence comes suffering. There’s no escaping that. But if you are grateful for your life. Then you have to be grateful for all of it… I have some understanding that everybody is suffering and however imperfectly, acknowledge their suffering and connect with them and to love them in a deep way that makes you grateful for the fact that you have suffered so that you can know that about other people. I want to be the most human I can be, and that involves acknowledging and ultimately being grateful for the things that I wish didn’t happen because they gave me a gift.

Stephen Colbert, All There is

I’m not sure I am at the point at which I can be grateful for the pain of loss, but I can be grateful for the life my father had and the legacy he left behind.

Last weekend my sister and I visited my mother. We took her to church on Sunday. We have a family history at St. James. When my parents were married there, my mother’s father served the church as a priest. I was baptized, confirmed, and married there. When I walked down the aisle holding my mother’s hand, we both got teary-eyed. My father’s ashes reside in the church walls in the columbarium. His presence was with us in that moment.

St. James Episcopal Church, Jackson, MS (photo by Margaret Simon)

I subscribe to Suleika Jaouad’s The Isolation Journals newsletter. A recent writing prompt suggested composing a prayer beginning with the Sanskrit prayer, “May creatures everywhere be happy, healthy, and free.” Here is my prayer:

May creatures everywhere be happy, healthy, and free.
May you sleep as soundly as my old dog Charlie on his therapeutic bed.
May you laugh as loudly as my granddaughter Stella on Facetime, eating a cookie, crumbs all around her mouth, smacking between giggles.
May your muscles feel as stretched and tired as mine after yin yoga class,
still tingling from pigeon pose.
May our paths cross on a fall evening when the breeze is cool, and we see the bright light of Jupiter, shining with eternal hope.
May we share a moment of memory of a life we knew was good.
May we cry a little.
May you look forward to tomorrow feeling the peace of knowing you are prepared.
Yes, and be still
and know God
as the deepest, most truthful,
and holy part
of you.

Margaret Simon

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Spiritual Thursday Round up is here today.

Close to midnight when the darkness is darkest, I was sleeping next to Leo, my 3 year-old grandson. He woke up startled on his first night staying with us last week. “Mamère, what’s that?” he asked.

“That’s an owl. Can you hear it? Who, who, who!”

“Is it in the house?”

“No, no, it’s across the bayou way up high in the trees.”

Whoooooooooo!

“Scary.”

“Don’t worry, I’m here. The owl is far away.”

“Far away? Outside? In the trees?”

We talked for a while about owls, how they live in trees, hunt at night, call to their friends. The questions went on and on until I sleepily said, “It’s time to be quiet now and go back to sleep.”

I turned on the sound machine and the ocean waves calmed us both back to sleep. But Leo talked about the owl for days. Who knew that his 3 year-old brain would be so curious and so afraid of owls?

Our fears, our worries, especially in the darkness of the night are unreasonable. We know this, but nevertheless, the threat feels real.

How do you listen to the owls?

My presence will go with you and I will give you rest.

Exodus 33:14
Leo makes play-doh cookies.

Enter your Spiritual Thursday blog posts here: https://fresh.inlinkz.com/p/7ce77be0aa2142e583f84dd128d477e7


					

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Ramona has the Round up today at Pleasures from the Page.

Life has been a challenge for many these days. I’ve adopted the mantra “We Can Do Hard Things” from Glennon Doyle. Because we can, and we do. But today, Ramona suggests we reflect on celebrations. I have a list that includes celebrations big and small.

  1. A family wedding! It’s always joyful to spend time with family. Our family (including all my children and grands) gathered in Seattle, Washington a few weeks ago for the wedding of my niece. The setting was on the Puget Sound facing the Olympic Mountains at sunset. Six days later my sister-in-law brought me to a beach nearby the wedding location as I recovered from Covid. I celebrate beauty, beach, fresh air, and family love!

2. Flowers are blooming! My friend and former student Jennifer and her husband grow fields of sunflowers and hold “You Pick” days. (Petite Anse Farm) I took my grandson Thomas “Tuffy” on Sunday morning (This was our church service) and picked a bucket of sunflowers. Thomas enjoyed having his own pair of scissors and feeding the chickens with Farmer Andy. I celebrate summer, flowers, and farmers who adore curious toddlers.

3. I was absent the last week of school. My colleague next door, Erica, packed up all the books on my shelves (I have a lot of books!) to prepare for summer cleaning. I went to check on things on Monday and was met with this amazing surprise. Also my principal’s daughter, who is 10 going on 11, was there to help with “Tuffy” while I did a few more things. I celebrate the kindness and consideration of colleagues and teaching in a school with this welcoming environment.

4. My friend and unofficial spiritual director Ellen sends me daily quotes. I am amazed how many times the quote she sends hits the exact right spot. Last week when I was recovering she sent me this list. Just what I needed. I celebrate the spiritual guidance of others who give us strength when we need it.

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