Google Groups is still shutting me out, so I’m changing to a new email system. In the meantime I have to add recipients to the list one at a time). Think about that.

God has not forgotten you,
lost track of you in this vast, cluttered universe,
lost interest with so many other people.

God is speaking to you,
in the most invisible whisper,
the faintest handwriting,

and sometimes, like a mother with a child inside her,
no message gets through,
nothing in the silence but God herself.
  

   —October 16, 2017

I pray for all those affected by storms, by fires, by civil unrest, and by so many private calamities.

Hurricane roars over the horizon
and they grab the most beloved things,
pack everything into the car,
one last trip through the house,
and they’re gone.

Soldiers enter the village, ravaging,
and the family leaves by the other road,
belongings in bundles on their heads.

Fire marches down the hill
with total disregard,
the eaves catch,
smoke drinks each room,
they reach for the treasures
and they’re out.

The world’s house
is always on fire,
God clearing out
with you under her arm.

– October 13, 20017

Let these words of Paul guide you today:

Whatever is true, whatever is honorable, whatever is just, whatever is pure,
whatever is pleasing, whatever is commendable,
if there is any excellence and if there is anything worthy of praise,
think about these things.
Keep on doing the things
you have learned and received and heard and seen in me,
and the God of peace will be with you.
                  — Philippians 4.8-9

—October 12, 2017

For those who subscribe to Unfolding Light by email I have used Google Groups for a long time. But since Oct. 3 Google Groups has failed to accept my messages. I can write to people only one at a time. (There are 2,716 of you.) I guess some algorithm thinks my writing is junk. And apparently it doesn’t think I’m going to improve: the failure seems to be permanent.

Until I get Google Groups fixed, or move to another platform, I can’t distribute. I’m only here on this website and on Facebook. If you subscribe to receive these by email I’ll add you to my list; you just won’t start receiving messages right away.

I’ve spent hours trying to figure out the Google Groups failure (instead of writing). There’s no reason, no explanation, no fix, and no help. An opaque puzzle. A box that can’t be opened. It’s been frustrating. I’ve learned a lot. Mostly about patience.

God help me to find you in silence,
to embrace you in mystery,
to know you in powerlessness,
to trust you in the darkness.
                       

   —October 11, 2017

God of mercy,
we cry, we cry to you.
Be with us in our darkness.
May your love prevail over all.
Shelter our broken hearts, hallow our grief,
put your arms around our sorrow.
Bear our losses with us, and receive our death.
Give us wisdom to bear both horror and hope,
to face our brokenness without blame,
and our fear without despair.
Give us grace to meet evil with goodness.
Give us courage to hold the fearful,
to heal the wounded, and to work for justice.
Give us the heart to be peacemakers in a troubled world.
God of mercy, give us mercy.
Sustain us with your love.
Raise us from our graves
and give us courage and mercy.

Christ has died. Christ is risen. Christ will come again.

Amen.

– October 3, 2017

There’s a dip in the stone step
in the threshold of the old cathedral,
worn where thousands of pilgrims have stepped
as they entered the darkness to pray.

Even in the old country church
the railing is rubbed bare
where the faithful have grasped,
have leaned, have hoped.

There is a worn spot
at the threshold of your heart
where God has entered the silence
over and over, to pray and gaze at your altar.

You don’t have to hear the words.
You don’t have to understand.
Just step on the threshold,
touch the railing, and you know.                       

   —October 2, 2017

         Praying Philippians 2.1-11
                  

God, grant me encouragement in Christ.
Give me the consolation of love,
the Spirit’s sharing,
and compassion and sympathy.
Make my joy complete,
and my harmony with Christ.
Help me do nothing from selfish ambition or deceit,
but in humility regard people with honor
and look to the interests of others.

Let the mind of Christ be in me:
no to attain status
but to empty myself
and take the place of a servant,
trusting your presence in my humanity.
May I become obedient in self-giving.
May Christ rule my life in grace.
May my humility, love and service
be your glory.

I pour myself out
and find you in me.
                       

   —September 29, 2017

         “By what authority are you doing these things,
         and who gave you this authority?”
                  —Matthew 21.23

You’re not afraid to wear your team’s jersey,
or a wedding ring, or to announce to the masses
your alma mater or your favorite designer.

The scribes didn’t have the guts
to know where their guts came from,
to let the light from within shine, let it shine.

But you, you dare. You let your loyalty be known.
You stand for healing, for justice and reconciliation.
You stand for resurrection. You’ve declared.

You wear it boldly. Others will hide it, blend in,
undecided. They’re afraid, running under stolen identity.
But there’s no doubt with you. Strangers can tell.

Not by a cross or a logo; it’s not a brand.
You bear the authority of the Loving One
in your presence, your vulnerability, your love.

Having the mind of the One who became a servant,
your uniform of mercy is unmistakable.
We know what side you’re on.
           

   —September 28, 2017

         The first son said, ‘I will not’;
         but later he changed his mind and went.
         The second said, ‘I go, sir’; but he did not go.
         Which of the two did the will of his father?
                  —Matthew 21.28-31

They are not two, of course. I am both.

God, help me root deeply in you,
and let the sap of your grace flow through me,
that my outer self may grow organically
out of my inner self, the two selves one,
my actions in humble harmony with my inner truth.
Free me from pretense and the fear of appearances.
May my prayers give form to words and deeds,
my flesh obey my spirit,
both flowing from your love.

Amen.                        

   —September 27, 2017

         The Israelites quarreled and tested God, saying,
         “Is God among us or not?”
                  —Exodus 17.7

The One you question
does not cast a shadow.
Does not look upon you.
Does not walk beside you.
The Present One
breathes in you,
looks out at this world through you,
becomes in full becoming within you.
The One is not a character,
on or off the stage,
not the hero or the playwright,
but the story, in whom you play a part,
the Oneness, to whom you belong.

Are you among your hands and organs or not?
Are you among your cares and loves or not?
Ah, so it is.

Don’t ask if but how.
Don’t look here or there;
look in your looking.
You journey is the palm of God.
Your struggle the story of God,
your darkest valley the crack in God’s heart.

You aren’t small;
you just belong to more than you thought.

When you care, God is.
When you yearn, God is.
Even now, this moment, in your pondering
God is moving toward you, from within.
In your hoping God is loving.
In this world, its spinning glory,
it is we who are among God.
                        

   —September 26, 2017