I have neglected this blog for over a year…a year of letting go, multiple challenges with the death of my mother, some remodeling, my husband’s recent surgery and more–I spare you the details.
Through it all, my strength has been my morning prayer time and many times throughout the day when the Lord has gently reminded me that he is walking with me.
I began to write a book of daily meditations on the Gospels , intending to write 365 to publish in hard copy and on Kindle. This project began in June. I have only written twelve. God has been prompting me to move on it and I have decided to offer them here, instead of in book form–hoping that dropping the idea of so many reflections in a reasonable period of time will free me from the paralysis that comes from feeling overwhelmed. Little by little, I will share them on this blog with the desire that they bring whoever reads them closer to the Lord. Just the process of writing them has brought me great joy and new insights into Jesus’ life among us.
Today, I would like to share with you a poem that I posted recently on my poetry blog. It deals metaphorically with the letting go of aging–a period of life that invites me to greater intimacy with God.
Do falling leaves ache with the pain of letting go? Or do they revel in the freedom of floating and of the taste of earth? Did they boast of glorious colors that they wore in days before releasing their hold on life?
And the trees—do they grasp obsessively to their robes of glory, regret the day that finds them stripped, exposed and naked—vulnerable to cold and rain.
I am October now, buffeted by aging. I hurl my somethingness into the great unknown, one gift at a time. I face the imminence of winter, move beyond the sting of loss into the joy of unknown expectations. I am old but full of hope, in the springtime of new life. Beneath the soil life pulses.
Je suis depouilée
stripped bare like October trees
richness lies hidden
*The French word depouillement means stripping. The verb depouiller is to strip. The first line of the haiku translates : I am stripped.
Haibun is a Japanese poetry form that combines a short introduction written in prose, followed by a Haiku.