"You'll be blessed..."

"And you,
you'll be blessed
You'll have the best
I promise you that
I'll pick a star from the sky...
I promise you that
I promise you that..."

There are moments in life that, as they are happening, you know they are being etched into your heart forever.  You begin cataloguing sounds, images, feelings...capturing them for eternity.   Each memory a puzzle piece that contributes to an exquisite photograph held in the heart.

Saturday, my nephew Sasch, married his bride Stephanie.  It was such a lovely day...bright blue Colorado skies above a pine and aspen blanketed mountain, a pristine lake high in the Rockies...and love...so much love.

I think I held it together pretty well...that is, until Sascha's mother-son dance with my sister, Lila.  From the first strain's of Elton John's "You'll Be Blessed," I was a goner.  But then so were the rest of my sisters and my mom.  

We know the depth of her love for this son.  We have witnessed the devotion, strength, and grace that she has shown as a mother.  We've had front row seats to their mutual respect, shared joys, and deep admiration for eachother. 

Watching my sister's face was one of the most beautiful sights I've ever seen.  It was like watching a beautiful sunset wash across the sky.  Twenty-two years of mother-love passed through her eyes during that dance. 

I felt so privileged to be there.  Mary Baker Eddy's poem, "Mother's Evening Prayer," seems to capture the depth and breadth of feeling we witnessed.  And all were blessed.

"O gentle presence, peace and joy and power;
O Life divine, that owns each waiting hour,
Thou Love that guards the nestling's faltering flight!
Keep Thou my child on upward wing tonight.

Love is our refuge; only with mine eye
Can I behold the snare, the pit, the fall:
His habitation high is here, and nigh,
His arm encircles me, and mine, and all.

O make me glad for every scalding tear,
For hope deferred, ingratitude, disdain!
Wait, and love more for every hate, and fear
No ill, — since God is good, and loss is gain.

Beneath the shadow of His mighty wing;
In that sweet secret of the narrow way,
Seeking and finding, with the angels sing:
"Lo, I am with you alway," — watch and pray.

No snare, no fowler, pestilence or pain;
No night drops down upon the troubled breast,
When heaven's aftersmile earth's tear-drops gain,
And mother finds her home and heav'nly rest."

I saw my sister's heart find rest in her son's happiness that afternoon...and felt so blessed to be a witness.


such love,

Kate

"Restless...'til I rest in You..."

"Still my heart, hold me close
Let me hear a still, small voice
Let it grow, let it rise
Into a shout, into a cry..."

And I am restless, I'm restless
'Til I rest in You, let me rest in You
and I am restless, so restless
'Til I rest in You, 'til I rest in You
Oh God, let me rest in You..."

Maria sent me this link to Audrey Assad's "Restless," knowing it would resonate with something profoundly familiar in me.  Thanks Maria.  It did, and it does. 

I love the word "rest."  It's been a favorite spiritual concept for some time now.  Mary Baker Eddy uses it in a way that has brought it's practicality to life for me.  She says, in her definition of "church" from the Glossary of Science and Health with Key to the Scriptures:

"Whatever rests upon and proceeds from divine Principle..."

I love this.  So often we think of rest, as something we do when we need to get some distance or "down time" from an exhausting activity or a demanding day.  But, for me, this definition encourages to consider rest in a new light.  To rest upon, rather than from.  To rest upon what we have proven.  To rest upon what we have seen, observed, witnessed of God's  goodness throughout the day.  To rest upon what we know of God's nature and character.   To rest upon the presence of all that we love, instead of from what we wish to avoid. 

This has been a spiritual lens on "rest" that I have returned to, over and over again, throughout my week.  Just knowing  that I can rest every case upon the foundational Principle of God's Allness-in-all, before proceeding on to the next activity, call, demand, is a promise that brings a deep sense of peace.

So, you can imagine my delight in discovering that Audrey Assad's song, "Restless," gives me yet another way to think about the word, "rest."   What fun, to redeem any sense of restlessness...of mind, body, spirit...as the desire, the divine call, the inner longing to rest in His love, in His all-embracing care, His all-knowing wisdom, His strong hands ...wow.  My restlessness will never be alarming to me again.  But neither will it be a cue, an urging to pick up and go searching for "just the right place."   Spiritual restlesness is not stilled by finally finding a person, place, or thing to put all of our hopes, dreams, and desire into.   The restlessness that is a cry from within for true rest, will only be satisfied by reaching for the stillness of His presence. It is the presence of Mind that, I believe, Eddy is referring to when she writes:

"conscious worth satisfies the hungry heart,
and nothing else can..."

What a satisfying place in which to still my restlessness.  In this place we...mothers, fathers, and children... really can "find our home, and heavenly rest."   I will leave you with the full context of Eddy's statement, below...and the link to Audrey's song, "Restless."

rest sweetly...in and upon...His Love,
Kate


From Mary Baker Eddy's Message to the Mother Church 1902 (page 17: 17 - 1):

"It is wise to be willing to wait on God, and to be wiser than serpents; to hate no man, to love one's enemies, and to square accounts with each passing hour.  Then thy gain outlives the sun, for the sun shines but to show man the beauty of holiness and the wealth of love.  Happiness consists in being and in doing good; only what God gives, and what we give ourselves and others through His tenure, confers happiness:  conscious worth satisfies the hungry heart, and nothing else can. Consult thy everyday life; take its answer as to thy aims, motives, fondest purposes, and this oracle of years will put to flight all care for the world's soft flattery or its frown. Patience and resignation are the pillars of peace that, like the sun beneath the horizon, cheer the heart susceptible of light with promised joy."

This post also references Eddy's poem "Mother's Evening Prayer," which ends with the line, "and mother finds her home and heavenly rest."   Enjoy this link to The Solo Committee's recording of this lovely poem, set to inspiring music.