"my temporary home..."

"This is my temporary home,
it's not where I belong -- 

windows and rooms 

that I'm passing through.

This was just a stop,

on the way to where I'm going. 

I'm not afraid because I know

this is my temporary home."

 I fell upon this Carrie Underwood video of "Temporary Home," while I was looking for another song -- and that, as they say, was that.

Recently someone asked me about my relationship to the concept of "body."

For one thing, I love it.   I am grateful for every way that it allows me to more fully express my relationship with God.   

With arms, I am able to show affection.  It is an honor  to manifest God's presence -- as Love -- in this way.   With this bodily form, I able to express grace, order, and precision as a dancer.   Thus sharing, with those around me, a window on the  choreographing power of divine Principle.    

I hope this gives some insight on how I  am thinking about the concept of "body" these days.   I do not presume to define this for anyone else.   I am so grateful for the writings of Mary Baker Eddy as I consider this subject.

In her Miscellaneous Writings 1883 - 1896 (page 47), she states that:

"In Science, body is the servant of Mind,
not its master; Mind is supreme."

 and elsewhere, in her primary work, Science and Health with Key to the Scriptures (page 216) she says:

"This understanding... 
makes the body harmonious,
it makes the nerves, bone, brain, etc.
servants instead of masters."

 She doesn't say that we don't have a body -- just that it isn't our master.  God is.

In fact, in her definition of "Temple." (also from Science and Health) Eddy ties the "body," to form and function when she writes: 

"Temple. Body;

the superstructure of Truth;

the shrine of Love..."

Don't you just love it?   It makes me so happy to think that with the help of this body I can give form to Truth, a sanctuary in which I bow to Love, surrender to Soul, yield to Spirit.

So, as I go about my day -- seeking ways to fulfill my mission to serve our God -- I find it useful to have the help of this servant-body. It is a beautiful, strong, functional, graceful, willing servant. It is obedient and responsive.

And it is my temporary home.  My "forever home" is the consciousness of Love.  

But this temporary home serves to house -- in this current experience -- all the spiritual, God-derived goodness that I include as His reflection. 

 With the help of its strong walls I can be a shoulder to lean on. Through it's clear windows I can see out from a pure heart, filled with Love. 

 But it is Love's shrine, Truth's superstructure. It is not mine. It never was. Love maintains it function, Truth sustains its form. I am, simply, eternally...grateful.

I believe, at least for today -- since I am always willing for God to shift my perspective -- that this is my temporary home, and it is as ever-evolving as my consciousness of God's purpose for me evolves.

But as it evolves spiritually it is always becoming more beautiful to me...not less so.

offered with Love,

Kate

"Nowhere else I'd rather be..."

"I'm runnin' down that mountain pass at midnight,
Those truckers they all flash their lights at me.
This highway ain't the very best companion,
'cause I know there's somewhere else I'd rather be..."

I love Dan Fogelberg. Over the past few decades, his High Country Snows album has been my companion on many a drive through the winding, narrow roads that criss cross the Rocky Mts.   And it was the first few lines, from his song, "Mountain Pass," that tried to be the soundtrack during one difficult late night drive, a couple of weeks ago.

My girlfriends and I had driven from camp, over Independence Pass, through Aspen, and up in to one of the most beautiful  high valley pastures I've ever seen for a polocrosse match my daughters, one friend's husband, and a handful of our beloved counselors and campers were competing in that weekend. 

The drive up was glorious.  Absolutely perfect...in every way.  Cloud-dappled Colorado blue skies, shimmering mountain lakes, the underflash of aspen leaves scattering light across the loam-rich forest floor.   Tears fell listening to Carrie Underwood's "How Great Thou Art," on Linda's ipod, and the scent of August's promise...cooler September days, aspen golds, sweaters, and hot cocoa were palpable in the air.

Once at the tournament, we were smitten...lost in the day.  Riders from Australia, Alburquerque, Durango, and beyond.  The dance of horse and rider...more intimate than a tango.  Old friendships, new acquaintances that would someday be old friendships.  The laughter of teens who share a love for horses and competition, the whinnying of horses who love "the game," and can't wait to parry on the field.  And the greenest grass I've ever seen inviting us to "relax, lie back, close your eyes and listen, stay...."   So we did. 

By the time we left we'd enjoyed watching our kids (and Lach) scrimmage in more than a dozen chukkas.  The fast-paced, precise, extraordinarily beautiful choreography of horse and rider...spinning, racing, turning on a dime, dipping to retrieve the ball, tearing down the field, cutting in front of an opponent...it took my breath away.  And all this without eating any of the ubiquitous dust that flavored every other polocrosse tournament I've been to.   Heavenly.  Sigh. 

By the time we tore ourselves away...riders still on the field playing as the sun turned the sky a shade of lavender-tinged salmon...we were wondering why we had to go.  oh yes, work...we reminded ourselves.

A quick dinner in Aspen, and we'd be "home" by midnight.  The food was great, and an hour later we hopped into the car under a quilted black sky scattered with a million stars.  It was going to be a lovely, cool ride back down the mountain...

Not.

I was the one I'd designated to do the driving, and it didn't take long before I was so ill I could barely speak.  This highway was not a good companion...at all.  Dancing headlights, shimmering snow reflectors, endless switchbacks....I wasn't doing so well.  A couple of emergency stops along side of the road helped...a bit, but there was a part of me that groaned inside, "I can't go one more mile, what if we just stopped here, and slept until the sun comes up?" 

But it was Linda's sharing of Carrie Underwood's beautiful How Great Thou Art," that afternoon, and her and Maree's clear love for God, and their trust in His love for me, that kept me going.  I knew, with all my being, that they were praying for me...and I could feel it.  I could truly feel their prayers, their love, their willingness to laugh with me.  And I could feel it more viscerally than I could feel the nausea or dizziness.  So I focused that, on actually feeling their love...which I knew, with all my heart, was an expression of God's love...and before we reached home, it was all I could feel. 

And you know what? Right where the highway didn't seem like the very best companion, I was already surrounded by the very best friends I could hope to be loved by.  Their love was all I needed to remember that the day was blessed, and all was well.

Thank you Linda and Maree...and thank you God...how great Thou art! 

There is nowhere else I'd rather have been that night.

It was the best!! 

Kate

"then sings my soul..."

O, Lord my God!
When I in awesome wonder
Consider all the works
thy hand hath made,
I see the stars,
I hear the mighty thunder,
Thy power throughout
the universe displayed;

Then sings my soul,
my Saviour God, to Thee,
How great Thou art,
how great Thou art!"

I saw this Youtube video of  Vince Gill and Carrie Underwood performing the timeless gospel, "How Great Thou Art," and knew what my Mother's Day post this year would be.   This performance is remarkable...

I've written about my mom, my children's moms...birth, step, grand, and their dads who have been wonderful mother-figures for us all...as well as my aunt, and some extraordinary moms who are also my good friend, in the past.  Some parent, or have parented, children daily...and some are moms waiting for children, but they have all demonstrated a love for, and devotion to, the verb, "to mother."   It is the magna that pours from the core of their being.

But this year, I wanted to write something, ever so brief about what, I believe, is at the very heart of that core mother-love.   The Motherhood of God. 

God, as Mother, is a concept that I have grown to depend upon, most completely, as a mom.  And when I lean my whole weight into trusting it...motherhood becomes burdenless.

This weekend our middle school age daughters will fly to Costa Rica with their classmates for a one week field trip to study the rainforest.  They will board a plane, and go to a place I have never been, and where they won't have phones or computers to stay in touch with.  But I feel completely at peace. 

And I believe that this peace stems from what I know about God's Motherhood.  Why am I able to stay awake all night praying when a child needs me?  Because I have a Mother-God who has taught me how to do this,  by Her example.  Why do I know that love has the capacity to dissipate anger and hate?  Because I have a Mother-God who has always shown me mercy, extended compassion, and established peace...within me.

I know, I am certain...without any doubt...that no matter where my daughters go, or what situation they may find themselves in, they will be with their Mother, and my Mother...God. 

That the great Mother of us all will be there to advise them wisely, provide them with comforting thoughts in the night, hold them and secure them, in secret place of the Most High, and instruct them in Her ways, and bless them according to Her holy purpose for their lives. 

She will mentor every teacher, administrator, and tourguide on that trip, in how to "mother" according to Her model of strength, tenderness, wisdom, and joy.   And not only the "grown ups," She will give each of those students the qualities of motherhood that they will need, moment-by-moment,  to respond to one another patiently, respectfully, and generously. 

I don't have to concern myself with the parenting experience of anyone on that trip.  They have the one and only real expert in mothering with them every step of the way.

I am reminded of the Psalmist's great song of security and peace:

We that dwelleth in the secret place of the most High shall abide under the shadow of the Almighty.

We will say of the Lord, She is our refuge and our fortress: our God; in Her will we trust.

Surely She shall deliver us from the snare of the fowler, and from the noisome pestilence.

She shall cover us with Her feathers, and under Her wings shall we trust:

Her truth shall be our shield and buckler.

We shall not be afraid for the terror by night; nor for the arrow that flieth by day;
 
Nor for the pestilence that walketh in darkness;  nor for the destruction that wasteth at noonday.

Because we have made the Lord, which is our refuge, even the most High, our habitation;

There shall no evil befall us, neither shall any plague come nigh our dwelling.

For She shall give Her angels charge over us, to keep us in all Her ways.

And they shall bear us up in their hands, lest we dash our foot against a stone.

Because She has set Her love upon us, therefore will She deliver us, and set us on high, because we have known Her name.

We will call upon her, and She will answer us,  She will be with us in trouble, and She will deliver us, and honor us.

We are all children, and we are all safe under the shadow of Her wing, resting in the warmth of her hands.

So this Mother's Day,  I am most grateful for the most wonderful Mother of us all....

So sings my soul my Savior God, to Thee....your daughter,

Kate