" exchanging the objects of sense, for the ideas of Soul..."

"It's only words,
and words are all I have..."

This post from 2013 still rings true for me -- in fact, more so with every Soul-inspired moment of surrender.

I've always loved the Bee Gee's song, "Words." As a girl, I felt that in the absence of physical stature, authority, or resources -- that words were all I had. Words represented limitless ideas, thoughts, inspiration. There was no false measurement of an idea -- they were simply, always infinite is scope.

No matter what was going on in my life, I could always retreat to the space of consciousness, a place where these infinite thoughts and ideas waited like eager friends. I'd listen, they'd answer all my big questions, and we'd create beautiful word sculptures from the raw materials of ideas, thoughts, metaphors and symbols.

This was always enough for me. So what happened?

If you've read my recent post, "the evidence," you might sense that I am in the space of deep paradigm-shifting. It often seems as if inspirational texts -- that I once thought I "got," -- are now, so new to me. It's almost like I've joined Alice, and stepped through the looking glass. Everything feels a bit upside down, and I'm a wonder-filled child again.

Take this much-loved, and familiar passage from Science and Health with Key to the Scripture by Mary Baker Eddy:

"Desire is prayer.
And no loss can occur
from trusting God with our desires,
that they may be moulded and exalted,
before they take form
in words and in deeds."

Okay, so here's how I always interpreted this: I had desires. And those desires were articulated as prayer.  Meaning, I could trust them to be "of God," since prayer is, as Eddy states earlier on the same page, "God's gracious means..."

So, I'd continue:  I have these God-inspired desires - prayers.  I can trust them to be moulded and exalted by Him, before they take form in words and in deeds...

Isn't there something missing here? Aren't the words and deeds just a stepping stone to their final form? Actual things?  Things like stronger muscles, bigger bank accounts, a better job.  Well, not according to this statement.  It says that words and deeds are the form.

But that wasn't what I had been thinking -- or expecting -- for a very long time.  Somehow I'd gotten the impression that these word-symbolized ideas, thoughts, and deeds, would eventually lead to more tangible forms.

For example,  take my desire for home. I would pray, and would be inspired with ideas that would take "form" in prayers.  These ideas, I understood to be the spiritual substance of home. Ideas like: "the spiritual foundation of home is kindness, respect, charity, a foundation that is deep, enduring, God-based, and reliable."  

It was my privilege, as a spiritual thinker, to consciously cherish those ideas and put them into practice.  Then, when understood sufficiently, they would take form -- or have manifestation -- in a house. Thus giving "form" to a spiritual sense of home. 

But that doesn't seem to be what Eddy is saying in the above-referenced statement. And for that matter, my interpretation of that statement, was not necessarily borne out in the lives of prophets and apostles.   I respected these Biblical thought-leaders for their deep spiritual sense of home and place.  Yet, when I thought about it, I realized I didn't know all that much about their houses.  I knew about their ability to find peaceful resting places in the wilderness, deserts, "the valley of the shadow of death," and on dusty roads -- but nope, not so much about their houses.

Yet Eddy states that words and deeds are the form. And when I started thinking about the people I deeply admired -- Jesus, Gandhi, Mandela, Angelou, Lincoln -- I realized that I didn't know much about their houses, bodies, bank accounts, or neighborhoods either. It wasn't their "things" that recommended them, it was their legacy of thoughts and deeds which were timeless -- eternal.

Suddenly everything became alive with a limitless spiritual reality -- right then and there!  The very atmosphere of consciousness felt pulsing with tangible, reliable, infinitely substantive forms.  Forms that were already completely, fully realized. 

Now, everything I am reading about "thought" it has a new sense of promise. Take this stanza from Eddy's poem, "Satisfied:"

"And of these stone,
and tyrant's thrones,
God able is,
to raise up seed,
in thought and deed
to faithful His..."

Yes! Yes! Yes!  In thought and deed.  Not in the right job, houses, cars, more youthful bodies, improved stock portfolios, but in "thoughts and deeds." Thoughts and deeds that are the evidence -- the seed realized -- the fruition, the substance, the reality. 

For so many years I've expected good thoughts to resolve themselves -- when considered metaphysically -- into things.   For example:  an understanding of abundance, would resolve itself into the "demonstration of supply" -- money.  A deeper spiritual sense of motherhood unfolds as a tangible "demonstration of family" -- a loved one found, marriage, a child conceived or adopted, siblings reunited, improved relationships.

But I don't think this is what Eddy is saying.  She is encouraging us to "resolve things into thoughts," and to "exchange the objects of sense for the ideas of Soul" -- not the other way around.

So, perhaps our houses, our loved ones, financial responsibilities, our servant-bodies, the need for transportation, the demands of being part of a community -- locally or globally -- are simply the "things" that God lovingly provides as encouragement.  Encouragement to go deeper, higher --  to go back to the spiritual well, the Source of those symbols.  These divine gifts keep us invested in a deeper desire for the real substance of life -- those thoughts, words, and deeds that are indissoluble, infinite, eternal, and enduring.  Perhaps they are the things that lead us to their resolution --  into more inspired thoughts, and kinder deeds.

This is a shift for me. To stop thinking that my desires -- my prayers -- are not going to take eventual form in "things."  And to discover that these desires have already been evidenced -- so perfectly --  in words, thoughts, and deeds.  

Elsewhere in Science and Health with Key to the Scriptures, Mary Baker Eddy states: 

Metaphysics resolves things into thoughts,
and exchanges the objects of sense
for the ideas of Soul."

We are not resolving infinite thoughts, into things that are limited.  Into measurable, restricted forms. These boundless thoughts are expanding our sense of being -- not reducing them.

I am finding that to be truly "satisfied," with these expansive spiritual forms is the simplicity in Christ that I have been seeking.  In this space I feel happy, innocent, childlike, and free. Free to be completely grateful in every moment of trust, to appreciate each instance of faith, inspired thought, beautiful words, a kind deed, infinite hope.  No more waiting or wanting.

Last night I was lying in the dark and I realized that when I align myself fully with this deeper sense of being satisfied, there is nothing more to desire. I am completely present with every thought and word that comes to my heart.  There is no want.  My contentment is secure.  I know that no one can stop me from listening for God's thoughts, and watching them take form in words.  And immediately, I can bless others with those thoughts.

And really, can there be any greater deed that you, or I, or anyone else can ever do than to bless another with our God-moulded and exalted prayers of appreciation? Or a Love-inspired gift of right spiritual identification? The genuine desire for them to know God's presence and power in their lives?  Nothing can stop us from doing these good deeds all night and day. 

A friend once shared with me a concept that has been attributed to Mary Baker Eddy, but without documentation of that attribution.  Whether Mary Baker Eddy is responsible for it or not, it has been helpful to me -- so I will share it here in the way that I think about it: 

Let's say you have a quarter.  That quarter is a symbol.  We -- society, the federal treasury, the market -- have determined, and agreed, that this symbol represents twenty-five cents, or one quarter of one dollar.  We accept that measure of its symbolic worth -- based on current treasury numbers.  Supply and demand markets tell us how much, in goods and services, we can expect to get in exchange for this quarter.  

But if we step back a bit and look at things spiritually, that quarter is just a symbol.  And what it symbolizes is very different when we start -- as Eddy instructs -- with the All-in-allness of God.  If this symbol exists, it exists as a representative of good, of value, worth, appreciation for the creativity and services provided.  And since these qualities -- goodness, value, worth, appreciation are spiritual they only have one measure -- All.  You can't get just a little bit -- or even a moderate amount -- of anything spiritual.  The only measure of Spirit is infinite, all.  Therefore the only measure of its expression is infinite, all -- all the time.  

To be in the presence that quarter -- which is a symbol of value and worth -- is to experience the presence of the All-in-all of what it represents.  All value is yours, all worth is yours, all goodness is yours -- abundantly.  No process, no growth, no maturity -- and no decay.   The symbol -- a quarter, points us to the true "form" -- the presence of value, worth, appreciation, goodness.  Thus we have resolved things -- the quarter, into infinite thoughts -- again, value, worth, appreciation, goodness.  

These "forms" are enough. They are not the means to another "end." They are not the way we get good things, or even better things. They are the end itself -- the all, the everything I have ever wanted, needed -- or desired.  To know the full value of love, to appreciate the good that is in the world, to discover the immortality, strength and beauty of a relationship with the divine. 

I will stop here -- this is a topic that is still becoming fully formed for me.  And as I've often said, this is my experience -- it is what is true for me, today.

shared with Love,

Kate

"resolving things into thoughts..."

"It's only words,
and words are all I have..."

I've always loved the Bee Gee's song, "Words." As a girl, I felt that in the absence of physical stature, authority, or resources, words were all I had. Words represented limitless ideas, thoughts, inspiration. There was no false measurement of an idea -- they were simply, always infinite is scope.

No matter what was going on in my life, I could always retreat to the space of consciousness, a place where these infinite thoughts and ideas waited like eager friends. I'd listen, they'd answer all my big questions, and we'd create beautiful word sculptures from the raw materials of ideas, thoughts, metaphors and symbols.

This was always enough for me. So what happened?

If you've read my recent post, "the evidence," you might sense that I am in the space of deep paradigm-shifting. It often seems as if inspirational texts -- that I once thought I "got," -- are now, so new to me. It's almost like I've joined Alice, and stepped through the looking glass. Everything feels a bit upside down, and I'm a wonder-filled child again.

Take this much-loved, and familiar passage from Science and Health with Key to the Scripture by Mary Baker Eddy:

"Desire is prayer.
And no loss can occur
from trusting God with our desires,
that they may be moulded and exalted,
before they take form
in words and in deeds."

Okay, so here's how I always interpreted this: I had desires. And those desires were articulated as prayer.  Meaning, I could trust them to be "of God," since prayer is, as Eddy states earlier on the same page, "God's gracious means..."

So, I'd continue:  I have these God-inspired desires - prayers.  I can trust them to be moulded and exalted by Him, before they take form in words and in deeds...

Isn't there something missing here? Aren't the words and deeds just a stepping stone to their final form? Actual things?  Things like stronger muscles, bigger bank accounts, a better job.  Well, not according to this statement.  It says that words and deeds are the form.

But that wasn't what I had been thinking -- or expecting -- for a very long time.  Somehow I'd gotten the impression that these word-symbolized ideas, thoughts, and deeds, would eventually lead to more tangible forms.

For example,  take my desire for home. I would pray, and would be inspired with ideas that would take "form" in prayers.  These ideas, I understood to be the spiritual substance of home. Ideas like: "the spiritual foundation of home is kindness, respect, charity, a foundation that is deep, enduring, God-based, and reliable."  

It was my privilege, as a spiritual thinker, to consciously cherish those ideas and put them into practice.  Then, when understood sufficiently, they would take form -- or have manifestation -- in a house. Thus giving "form" to a spiritual sense of home. 

But that doesn't seem to be what Eddy is saying in the above-referenced statement. And for that matter, my interpretation of that statement, was not necessarily borne out in the lives of prophets and apostles.   I respected these Biblical thought-leaders for their deep spiritual sense of home and place.  Yet, when I thought about it, I realized I didn't know all that much about their houses.  I knew about their ability to find peaceful resting places in the wilderness, deserts, "the valley of the shadow of death," and on dusty roads -- but nope, not so much about their houses.

Yet Eddy states that words and deeds are the form. And when I started thinking about the people I deeply admired -- Jesus, Gandhi, Mandela, Angelou, Lincoln -- I realized that I didn't know much about their houses, bodies, bank accounts, or neighborhoods either. It wasn't their "things" that recommended them, it was their legacy of thoughts and deeds which were timeless -- eternal.

Suddenly everything became alive with a limitless spiritual reality -- right then and there!  The very atmosphere of consciousness felt pulsing with tangible, reliable, infinitely substantive forms.  Forms that were already completely, fully realized. 

Now, everything I am reading about "thought" it has a new sense of promise. Take this stanza from Eddy's poem, "Satisfied:"

"And of these stone,
and tyrant's thrones,
God able is,
to raise up seed,
in thought and deed
to faithful His..."

Yes! Yes! Yes!  In thought and deed.  Not in the right job, houses, cars, more youthful bodies, improved stock portfolios, but in "thoughts and deeds." Thoughts and deeds that are the evidence -- the seed realized -- the fruition, the substance, the reality. 

For so many years I've expected good thoughts to resolve themselves -- when considered metaphysically -- into things.   For example:  an understanding of abundance, would resolve itself into the "demonstration of supply" -- money.  A deeper spiritual sense of motherhood unfolds as a tangible "demonstration of family" -- a loved one found, marriage, a child conceived or adopted, siblings reunited, improved relationships.

But I don't think this is what Eddy is saying.  She is encouraging us to "resolve things into thoughts," and to "exchange the objects of sense for the ideas of Soul" -- not the other way around.

So, perhaps our houses, our loved ones, financial responsibilities, our servant-bodies, the need for transportation, the demands of being part of a community -- locally or globally -- are simply the "things" that God lovingly provides as encouragement.  Encouragement to go deeper, higher --  to go back to the spiritual well, the Source of those symbols.  These divine gifts keep us invested in a deeper desire for the real substance of life -- those thoughts, words, and deeds that are indissoluble, infinite, eternal, and enduring.  Perhaps they are the things that lead us to their resolution --  into more inspired thoughts, and kinder deeds.

This is a shift for me. To stop thinking that my desires -- my prayers -- are not going to take eventual form in "things."  And to discover that these desires have already been evidenced -- so perfectly --  in words, thoughts, and deeds.  

Elsewhere in Science and Health with Key to the Scriptures, Mary Baker Eddy states: 

Metaphysics resolves things into thoughts,
and exchanges the objects of sense
for the ideas of Soul."

We are not resolving infinite thoughts, into things that are limited.  Into measurable, restricted forms. These boundless thoughts are expanding our sense of being -- not reducing them.

I am finding that to be truly "satisfied," with these expansive spiritual forms is the simplicity in Christ that I have been seeking.  In this space I feel happy, innocent, childlike, and free. Free to be completely grateful in every moment of trust, to appreciate each instance of faith, inspired thought, beautiful words, a kind deed, infinite hope.  No more waiting or wanting.

Last night I was lying in the dark and I realized that when I align myself fully with this deeper sense of being satisfied, there is nothing more to desire. I am completely present with every thought and word that comes to my heart.  There is no want.  My contentment is secure.  I know that no one can stop me from listening for God's thoughts, and watching them take form in words.  And immediately, I can bless others with those thoughts.

And really, can there be any greater deed that you, or I, or anyone else can ever do than to bless another with our God-moulded and exalted prayers of appreciation? Or a Love-inspired gift of right spiritual identification? The genuine desire for them to know God's presence and power in their lives?  Nothing can stop us from doing these good deeds all night and day. 

A friend once shared with me a concept that has been attributed to Mary Baker Eddy, but without documentation of that attribution.  Whether Mary Baker Eddy is responsible for it or not, it has been helpful to me -- so I will share it here in the way that I think about it: 

Let's say you have a quarter.  That quarter is a symbol.  We -- society, the federal treasury, the market -- have determined, and agreed, that this symbol represents twenty-five cents, or one quarter of one dollar.  We accept that measure of its symbolic worth -- based on current treasury numbers.  Supply and demand markets tell us how much, in goods and services, we can expect to get in exchange for this quarter.  

But if we step back a bit and look at things spiritually, that quarter is just a symbol.  And what it symbolizes is very different when we start -- as Eddy instructs -- with the All-in-allness of God.  If this symbol exists, it exists as a representative of good, of value, worth, appreciation for the creativity and services provided.  And since these qualities -- goodness, value, worth, appreciation are spiritual they only have one measure -- All.  You can't get just a little bit -- or even a moderate amount -- of anything spiritual.  The only measure of Spirit is infinite, all.  Therefore the only measure of its expression is infinite, all -- all the time.  

To be in the presence that quarter -- which is a symbol of value and worth -- is to experience the presence of the All-in-all of what it represents.  All value is yours, all worth is yours, all goodness is yours -- abundantly.  No process, no growth, no maturity -- and no decay.   The symbol -- a quarter, points us to the true "form" -- the presence of value, worth, appreciation, goodness.  Thus we have resolved things -- the quarter, into infinite thoughts -- again, value, worth, appreciation, goodness.  

These "forms" are enough. They are not the means to another "end." They are not the way we get good things, or even better things. They are the end itself -- the all, the everything I have ever wanted, needed -- or desired.  To know the full value of love, to appreciate the good that is in the world, to discover the immortality, strength and beauty of a relationship with the divine. 

I will stop here -- this is a topic that is still becoming fully formed for me.  And as I've often said, this is my experience -- it is what is true for me, today.

shared with Love,

Kate

"...earth stood hard as iron..."

"In the bleak midwinter,
icy winds may moan,
Earth stood hard as iron,
water like a stone...

What then can I give Him,
Empty as I am?
If I were a shepherd,
I would bring a lamb.
If I were a Wise Man,
I would know my part.
What then can I give Him?
I must give my heart."
-Christina Rossetti

James Taylor's version of "In the Bleak Midwinter" is a sound that speaks more than all the words lined-up, ready to dance through the singer's lips and fall like gentle snow on the shoulder of its listener.  I've heard this song performed by other extraordinary singers, choirs, and recording artists, but few  match the sound of this one recording for me. 

This afternoon I went to find an earlier post that used a Corinne May recording, that is also quite lovely, and discovered that I have written a piece each year using this Christina Rossetti lyric as a keynote.  So I am including all three of those "In the Bleak Midwinter" posts here in case you would like to read them.

Now for this year's "In the Bleak Midwinter" story. 

It was a cold February morning and I was on crutches after severely injuring my ankle in "freak fall" earlier that month.  I'd found my peace the first day, while lying in bed struggling with pain that seemed to shatter my thoughts and send them splintering off in un-focused directions of terror and aloneness, when I picked up my Bible lesson and read the statement, "..and the Lord was with Joseph."  And it struck me immediately that if the Lord was with Joseph in prison, he was with me, right there in bed, and it became all that mattered...all that I cared, or wanted to think, about .  He'd been with Nelson Mandela in prison, Jesus in the sepulchre, Corrie Ten Boom in a concentration camp...their examples of finding a resonant peace and an unshaken dignity in the midst of bleak conditions gave me strength.

The same friend who'd called earlier that morning to check in, knowing that my husband was working out of state, got the girls to school, picked up our puppy, and brought food and crutches.  But once she'd left, I was alone...with God. The details of that story are found in a post from last February titled, "And he walks with me..."  (linked here). The next few weeks, once the girls were at school, were spent alone at home with my divine Parent.  I was able to "crutch" to the car and drive the girls to school and back, but once up the stairs and in the house again, I'd remain pretty non-ambulatory...at my desk or in bed taking calls, praying and writing.

After a few weeks however, I was still crutching around, unable to put any weight on the ankle, and the swelling was still quite evident.  I'd gotten down the icy front steps without incident one morning so that I could drive the girls to school, but when I pulled back into the driveway I hadn't noticed that short walk from the driveway to the steps was covered with black ice.  I placed my crutches on the ground and swung myself off the front seat and as I balanced on my "good foot" lifting the crutches to the next position forward, the rubber caps on the bottom of the crutches slipped on the ice and I lost my balance hitting the ground hard...ground that stood "hard as iron...water like a stone" covering its surface. 

The fall hurt, knocked the wind out of me, I wasn't sure how I would get to a standing position without crawling all the way up the steps and to be honest I just felt humiliated, tired, and as broken as the poor Nutcracker in Tchaikovsky's ballet.  But in my case there was no Sugar Plum fairy to spirit me off to the Land of Sweets and make me whole again.  There was no husband, there was no ...oh my gosh, there was no cell phone. 

That was when I started to panic.  My cell phone had flow out of my hand and was ringing from under the bushes that surround our front porch.  I felt helpless and hopeless.  I wanted to cry...I wanted to cry "uncle"...enough!

That was when I actually felt the first gentle touch of God's hand on my shoulder, "shshhing" me and asking me to "be still," and I stopped long enough to actually listen.  With my elbows in the dirt and my legs all akimbo under me on the hard ground of winter, the strains of "...earth stood hard as iron, water like a stone..." started singing through my heart. 

I rolled onto my back and looked up at the bleak gray winter sky and let the plaintive "sound" of the last verse speak to me of God's care for a baby in a cold manger, a man in a prison cell, and me on "earth as hard as iron".  I grasped the full weight of the last verse in my heart:

"What then can I give him
Empty as I am?
If I were a Shepherd
I would bring a lamb.
If I were a Wise man,
I would know my part.
What then can I give him?
I must give my heart.

I stayed there on my back letting the warm weight of those words sink into the core of my being.  I stared up though the moaning black fingers of the bare dogwood tree...and her overarching neighbor, the ancient prickly pod-decorated sweet gum tree...at a sky so gray and steely I could actually feel the word "bleak" with my eyes.  So I closed them and pushed my focus inward towards the space of my heart.  I wondered, "How could I give Christ my heart in that moment...crumpled on the walkway?"

And I realized it was simple.  I could be conscious.  I could be grateful.  I could love, and pray, and sing, and think, and "praise God"...Laus Deo! I could do all those things.  I was able-minded. I was fully capable of loving. And, I could make more of a difference in the world from a position of abject humility, rather than standing strong and hard as iron, anyway.  I was right where I needed to be in that moment...that was all I needed to know.  I could give my heart.

So I did.  I stayed focused on the space of my heart...the cold ground, the damp air, the gray sky lost their bleakness.  I let love pour out in radiant waves of affection...stronger and stronger... with each ripple spreading farther and farther out from its center.   Love for my husband, my children, my family, friends, colleagues, neighbors, community, the world, the universe...larger and larger, concentric circles of appreciation, respect, honor, blessing, peace reaching out from the living, breathing, glowing molten magma core of Love that abides in each of us.

I don't know how long I lay there.  I only know it was long enough to melt the ice I was lying on.  And when I opened my eyes, I saw that the mailman was approaching at a pretty good clip, with a look of genuine concern on his face.  I assured him that I was fine...and I was. 

He helped me right myself, find my bearings, brush myself off, retrieve my phone from under the bushes, get my books from the car, spryly crutch up the front steps, before handing me the mail...as I thanked him for all he had done.  He told me that he usually drove his truck through our neighborhood in the winter, delivering mail from the warmth of his vehicle, but that this morning he had felt almost pulled from his vehicle by the desire to go door-to-door hoping to run into someone and strike up a conversation.  So with that...we did.

We had a lovely conversation about his family, our neighborhood, my children, his parents, the schools, my husband's work, health care, and God.  I'd learned once again, as Mary Baker Eddy assures us, that:

"The very circumstance, which your suffering sense
deems wrathful and afflictive,
Love can make an angel entertained unawares."

It was a perfect morning for entertaining angels...in the bleak midwinter.

with Love,
Kate
Kate Robertson, CS

"O life that maketh all things new..."

"Oh life that maketh all things new
The blooming earth,
The thoughts of men…"

I have been wrestling with what feels like a gorilla for the past few weeks…again.  I was beginning to feel as if this match would never end.  I had been over the same pros and cons at least a hundred times.  I had looked at it from the same twenty angles.  I had considered the impact each option would have on everyone involved.  Then I walked away from it for some broader perspective.  But I kept coming back to the same almost conclusions.   I kept hoping that someone would intervene, that there would be an eleventh hour reprieve from not only the situation itself, but from my constant mulling over of the options and consequences.  

That was when the above line from a much-loved hymn (with words from Samuel Longfellow) came to mind.  It was like having a soft spring breeze blow through a stuffy room that has been closed up all winter.  I could expect my thoughts to be made new.

I didn't have to think that those same pros and cons were going to be the extent of my thinking on this issue. I didn't have to feel helpless and hopeless waiting for outside intervention.   I could come to my prayers with an open heart for hearing something completely new...each moment. 

My dilemma involves the closing of a major highway in our city.  It has been the primary artery for getting from our home in an urban neighborhood to our children's school in the suburbs.  We have generally enjoyed a 20 minute door-to-door trip on each of the four legs we travel every day.  Twenty minutes to take them there and twenty minutes back every morning.  Then twenty minutes to go pick them up and twenty minutes back home.  Occasionally we have hit a traffic sang and our trip takes 30 minutes, but it has been painless. 

With the closing of the highway we are looking at our commute doubling.  Doubling!!!  I have been frantic.  Could we/should we move?  What surface street routes will be quickest?  What time will we need to leave by in order to get the girls to school on time?  Can we possibly impose this kind of commute on our children, our family and friends who will be visiting our home from time to time?  The questions just wouldn't stop.  What was the most right, the most loving, the kindest thing to do…for everyone?  If we leave our neighborhood, what are we saying about our commitment to joining hands with our neighbors who will also be navigating this difficult situation.  Neighbors who may not have the freedom or the resources to relocate in the midst of this real estate market.

And beyond that, we love our neighborhood.  We love being a part of an urban community with a major university only a block away.  We love having a neighborhood school on our corner where children from the neighborhood play kickball and hopscotch on the asphalt and run around the block for PE. We love interacting with thought-leaders who are wrestling with public policy, health-care, human rights, literature and technology at our local coffeehouses.  And we love it not just for ourselves, but for our children.  We love that our daughters have access to museums, the zoo, galleries, coffeehouses, and people who introduce diversity and texture into their experience.  We love that our son had a job through his senior year of high school at the local coffeehouse where he met university students, professors, neighborhood characters, and urban legends.

But we also love that our children feel peaceful and happy about the suburban school they attend.  We are grateful that they feel so invested in their school community and enjoy friendships that have been nurtured since preschool.  We appreciate the freedoms they experience in a suburban setting…having a dog, a yard to play in, closer proximity to friends/relatives making the planning and execution of playdates much easier. 

As the deadline for the highway closure draws closer and closer I have been a bit panicky.  We have to DO something…don't we??? 

But this hymn gives me peace.  I don't have to do anything but trust God to "make all things new".  To give me new thoughts about this adventure each day.  We will know each moment of every day what is the right route to take, when to leave, and how to make the best use of the time we will spend together in the car.  And if there are other options we need to consider, God will make them clear to us…we won't have to frantically search for answers…they will bloom naturally out of our love for everyone involved. 

And I finally realized that this isn't just about finding an answer for me and my commute, for me and my family. It is about, as Mary Baker Eddy suggest in her poem, Mother's Evening Prayer: "His arm encircl[ing] me, and mine, and all." Every driver on the roads with us will be guided rightly, led to take routes that keep traffic flowing smoothly and gracefully…like a ballet of cars and drivers and passengers…all being directed by a grand and wise Choreographer.  We are in this together.  We are a community.  We are neighbors.   Our community garden will not be over crowded.  We have been planted by a divine hand, watered with grace, encouraged by the sunlight of honest affection, nourished with faith, and grounded in our trust in His promise…our thoughts - our routes, timetables, choices and decisions - will be made new. 

"From hand to hand the greeting flows
From eye to eye the signals run,
From heart to heart the bright hope glows,
The seekers of the Light are one..."

the adventure begins...with Love,
Kate