"A baby changes everything..."

"My whole life has turned around,
I was lost, but now I'm found,
a baby changes everything..."

Faith Hill's "A Baby Changes Everything," is a beautiful song. But it's the title that makes me smile tonight. I can't help but remember a more recent Christmas -- than the one Faith is singing about -- when a baby changed everything.

A year earlier the son we were making plans for adopting was still warmly nestled in his mom's tummy. She lived with us those last months of her pregnancy, and Christmas Eve found us all at the kitchen table looking forward to his birth only a few weeks out.

His birth was beautiful. We all loved him. When his mother decided later that winter to parent him herself, I understood. That doesn't mean that I wasn't shattered and unsure of how to go on. It was a very long year -- full of heartache, surrender, prayer, and healing.

By autumn I was able to breathe again without worrying that I'd exhale a sob. It was a step. Yet I knew I had a long way to go before I was whole inside. My younger sister had become pregnant earlier that year, and I'd been truly thrilled for her when she finally told me. It was a milestone in my healing. But I wasn't sure how I'd feel when I saw her with her newborn son in her arms.

He arrived on the night of the winter solstice. And since my husband and I had plans to fly home to Colorado (from Boston) that Christmas Eve, I knew my "growth in grace" was either going to be authenticated, or it was going to crumble into a heap of tears. I remember how nervous I was during that flight. I prayed with all my heart to be truly free of envy, sorrow, heartbreak -- the crushing ache of empty arms.

Our flight landed and we were whisked off to meet the entire family at The Brown Palace. On that drive -- through the glittering streets of Denver -- I prayed, "Let every heart prepare him room..." I wanted my heart to be as wide open and accepting as a manger.

And it was.

I remember that night as a benediction. The "amen" on a year of healing. I saw my sister with her son in her arms, and I was filled with delight, joy -- a pure un-adulterated bliss for us all. I was free of any sense of wishing it were me. I held my nephew, not wanting him to be my son. I looked at my sister -- a happy mommy -- and was filled with awe, respect, love. It was over. I was genuinely whole, healed, happy.

That Christmas was one of the most beautiful in my life. There was no promise of a baby in the future, we weren't on any adoption agency's list for consideration, there were no hints of impending motherhood -- but I was pregnant with joy.  I was filled with gratitude, overflowing with peace. 

My sister was thoughtful, tender, and generous letting everyone cuddle, coo, and snuggle their baby. Every chance I got, I happily held her son and delighted in him -- as his aunt.

I look at photos of my nephew today -- an amazing man, a husband, a devoted son, a wonderful brother, a kind and loving citizen of the world -- and I see a beautiful infant boy in a tiny little tuxedo romper -- a baby, who changed everything.

with so much love,

Kate

"Be born in me..."

"Be born in me,
be born in me,
make my heart Your Bethlehem,
be born in me..."
- Jackson

I am feeling a bit shy this afternoon. I haven't been posting for a long time. I'd begun to think that perhaps the silence which had descended...and that I'd known was absolutely, divinely "right" for me in early September...had become my "new normal." I'd wondered if those beautiful, long nights of lying awake -- while words, phrases, stanzas of poetry, lovely sentences wafted through my heart -- were from another chapter...a loved chapter, but one that was now over.

Then, two nights ago, they started to poke through the silence again. Like small shoots of soft green thoughts, as tender as the first crocus through the snow, they came when I least expected them. I lay there, as still as a winter night in Bethlehem, and watched them gather...stars, lambs, wise children, infant ideas...one-by-one they fell upon my silent heart. And I knew.

I don't know what will emerge, but I do know that they will emerge gently, and without the urgent push of the ego's need to "make it happen."

I have learned so much from this time of deep quiet. And because it was a time "without words," there are no words to describe it.

What now falls upon the page may...or may not...include songs or lyrics. What finds its voice will have the freedom to stay silent for days, or even weeks, before singing...there is no timetable...no performance. But something is emerging, something is surfacing....and I am remaining still, listening in awe for the lispings, the whisperings, the barely audible and almost silent songs of angels.

Tonight, as I consider the title to this song, I wonder...if it might be: "be born in Me..." as much as: "be born in me..." Just a question I am in. Have a wonder-filled night.

And by the way, thanks for giving me the space to rediscover this Bethlehem within...it is a most loved, sacred place...and I remain here on my knees.

with Love,

Kate

Here is a link to Francesca Battistelli's"Be Born in Me":

"And she brought forth..."

"Now I'm not one to second guess
what angels have to say,
but this is such a strange way
to save the world..."

Once again, a friend's sharing of a video gave birth to this post on a night when I didn't know what He wanted me to write about...thank you. 

"A Strange Way to Save the World," by Michael Card is the perfect soundtrack for the space my heart has been in since last night's candlelight service at our sweet little storefront church. 

The readings from Scripture -- and from the writings of Mary Baker Eddy, were all based on the timelessness of the Christmas story.  And were sparked by the realization that the phrase "brought forth" also means (according to Webster) "to attract; to draw towards oneself" as in "to bring forward, to accept".  For me, this definition has given new life to such familiar, and much loved, statements like:

"And the earth brought forth...."  [Genesis]

"And she [Mary] brought forth her first born son..."  [Luke]

"The illumination of Mary's spiritual sense put to silence material law and its order of generation, and brought forth her child by the revelation of Truth, demonstrating God as the Father of men."  [Science and Health]


"Soul is the divine Mind, - for Soul cannot be formed or brought forth by human thought, - and must proceed from God; hence it must be sinless, and destitute of self-created or derived capacity to sin."  [Miscellaneous Writings]

For me, it makes conception, gestation, and birth one fluid, beautiful motion.  A graceful acceptance of the spiritual substance of those things that are flowing/radiating from God within us, the cherishing of them within our heart, and then an immediate flowing outward of their coincidental form, beauty, outline, and purpose.  It is a divinely choreographed movement that reminds me of a river's flow from it's Source, eddying for the briefest of moments within the crook of the river's womb, yet continuing to flow towards the broader waters of the sea.


But I digress...back to our candlelight service.   

As I sat there, I couldn't help but think of these images.  And after the readings were shared, we prayed in silence, and a hymn was sung, the meeting was opened for testimonies of healing and inspiration.

There were so many lovely thoughts "brought forth."  But it was during my friend, Amanda's, remarks that something broke open inside of me about this beautiful and timeless Christmas story. 

Amanda was saying that she had been led to cherish the concept of "expectation" and "expectancy" all that day, asking herself questions like, "What am I expecting?" and "How large is my expectation of God's love and care?"

As she was speaking, so earnestly from the heart, I heard the question - within me, "Do you remember when you were an expectant mother?   Well, think of it...you weren't empty, waiting to be filled, but right in that time of "expectancy" you were already full. You were cherishing what was already alive and growing within you...you were pregnant with the promise and its fulfillment."  

I could see that the time in my tummy, was only an eddying, not a creating or a waiting to be.   The waters of my child's true substance were always flowing from their divine Source, and were continuing to flow freely forward towards the broader ocean of God's purpose for her.  She was never "mine."  I could never contain her, any more that the river is being contained while it eddies in a lovely cove or inlet along its course. 

It was like a light turning on in my soul. 

I could suddenly see that when we are led to cherish an expectation...it is not in anticipation of its possible fulfillment, but the celebration of what already is present and living in, and around, and through us.

I love thinking of expectant father, Joseph, as the humble receptacle of a divine covenant.  Much the way a riverbed holds the waters of the river.  While at the same time, those same waters gently carve out a newness to its outline.  It begs the question, what is defining the shape of the river, the earthen banks...rocks, mud, trees, or the flowing of the water...or both?  

Joseph begins our story as the perplexed, but trusting, fiance' of a young girl, and the Christ  carves out in him a timeless place in history as a fully vested father, the purest of manservants to the Lord's promised "peace on earth, good will to man." 

An obscure village, this simple carpenter, a rough hewn stable, an unmarried girl, a babe - "beloved, replete, by flesh embound"...all filled with a divine purpose. 

A strange way to save a world...maybe. 

But what is it that you are expectant with tonight?  What is it that you think can't possibly "make sense?"  What will you take into the quiet manger for a star to reveal, for wisemen to worship, for kings to bring gifts to the feet of, and for shepherds to bow before?

What will you "bring forth" from the fullness of your heart...from the quiet sanctuary of your earnest longings, already pregnant with promise...and fulfillment?

sitting with you in expectancy, and with a heart full of love on this holy night...
Kate
Kate Robertson, CS

[quotes above are from the Bible and the writings of Mary Baker Eddy]

"...I know that it's time for a cool change.."

"If there's one thing in my life that's missing
It's the time I spend alone
Sailing on the cool and bright clear waters
There's lots of those friendly people
Showin' me ways to go
And I never want to lose their inspiration

But, it's time for
a cool change...
I know that it's time
for a cool change
Now that my life
is so pre-arranged
I know that it's time
for a cool change..."
"Cool Change"
- The Bellamy Brothers
(click on the title above to hear the song)

Changes are in the air...and they are cool...and wonderful.  Graduations, weddings, new jobs, promotions, babies, travel.  Cool changes. 

Someone recently asked me, "If you could give only one gift, the same one to each person making a life transition this month, what would it be?"

It was easy.  The space to be alone, to be still, and to listen in that silence for the voice of the Divine, God, Allah, Jah, Supreme Being...or whatever you call Her.

This is the most valuable part of any day for me.  It is the "one thing" I cannot live without.  I can do without food, water (for a time), conversation, friends, books (this one is hard...but not impossible), the company of my loved ones (even harder)...but I cannot live without the space to commune with God.

It is a change of direction that I seek throughout my days when everything points towards tasks, deadlines, timetables, and schedules...outcomes and accomplishments, to stop and turn away from that momentum and be still.

It is a cool change.  It is refreshing, invigorating, soothing, and inspiring.  It feeds me and cleanses my palate all at the same time.  It is wonderfully simple and deeply complex.  It is richly sumptuous and pure light coincidentally.  It is what gives me the kind of joy that none can take away.

Whether it is your wedding day or your first day of work at the most wonderful new job you could imagine...the birth of your first child or the launching of your catamaran out to sea after retiring from a long illustrous career...it will never be more glorious than hearing the voice of God in the silence of your own heart...inspiring you, giving you encouragement, direction, guidance, solace.

It has taken me many years to more fully develop a practice of silence and deep listening that sustains me.  And the more I practice it, the more I hunger for it.  And that silence doesn't require a closet, a church, or a sanctuary...boat alone on the sea, or a chapel in the woods.  It can be practiced in the midst of a concentration camp (as proven in the lives of thought luminaries like Corrie TanBoom and "Jeremy"), a prison cell (think of Paul, Ghandi, Mandela), a war-torn desert, a large family, a high school cafeteria, a wedding reception, or even a rock concert.  As the word practice implies, it takes practice...but that's the fun of it. 

Start out with silent places (church, your bedroom, a garden) and work up to carving out silence spaces...within yourself...in the midst of more stimulating places -- it .  

I wish I could give each of you one hour a day alone within the sanctuary of your own consciousness...the province governed by the divine.  But this is not a gift anyone can give you...it is a gift you must give yourself.  But it is not a selfish gift.  It is a gift that, when practiced, can't help but bless others in ever-widening circles of love and inner peace.

When you walk away from a confrontation, an event...even a joyous one, the demands of a busy schedule, and re-calibrate yourself in alignment with the Source of your divine nature and purpose, everyone is blessed and benefited.

Imagine you are in the middle of your wedding reception and you step away for a moment or two...into the garden, in the stairwell, behind the curtain...to center your heart on God's hand in your life, your new marriage, your purpose, to give thanks, to ask, "How can I most serve You in this moment?" and then listen for the answer.  Imagine the look of peace that you will radiate from your entire being when you return to the festivities.  Imagine the tone you will set...much like a tuning fork sets the perfect pitch in tuning a piano.

A few weeks ago I had the privilege and joy of attending a James Taylor concert in a small concert hall with a generous friend.  Time and again during the concert (an event I had waited since 1970 to experience...JT up close and personal...oh my goodness!!!) I was called away by my phone for a conversation and then to pray...or to pray during the conversation.  It was my favorite part of the night...to realize that as much as I loved JT's voice, his songs, his lyrics...I loved the voice of God even more!!  I never once felt "interrupted" by a call, but it felt as if the calls were making the concert more wonderful, more rich, more sacred.  Each call was a reminder that God's voice was my favorite voice. 

So, as we all enter this season of cool changes, I pray that we each love ourselves enough to give the bride...the new mom, the recent graduate, the concert-goer, the healer...within ourselves, the gift of silent spaces with God. 

"...If there's one thing in my life that's missing
It's the time that I spend alone
Sailing on the cool and bright clear waters
It's kind of a special feeling
When you're out on the sea alone
Staring at the full moon like a lover

Time for
a cool change...
I know that it's time
for a cool change
Now that my life is so prearranged
I know that it's time
for a cool change..."

dearest love...hopes, and dreams fulfilled...to each of you,
Kate
Kate Robertson, CS