Jairus begged him,
         “My little daughter is at the point of death.
         Come….” So he went with him.
                     — Mark 5.22-24

God of love,
you call me to love, to be kind,
to extend your grace to all.
You call me to step out of myself
to care, to forgive, to bless, to heal.
You call me to leave my place of comfort,
even to enter into unfamiliar ground,
the house of the stranger, my opponent’s turf,
to love them.
Deepen in me this day my willingness to go,
my readiness to show kindness to all.

I do not have the power to heal;
it is your power.
I enter into your healing that is present.
Deepen in me this day my awareness of your grace.

I am mindful of those asking for help
and those silently reaching out for you.
May your healing unfold within them.
Deepen in me this day my love for them all,
my ear for their cries,
my openness to your grace.

God of love,
today I would be loving.

__________________
Steve Garnaas-Holmes
Unfolding Light
www.unfoldinglight.net

To receive Unfolding Light as a daily e-mail,
write to me at unfoldinglight(at) gmail.com

Dearly Beloved,
Grace and Peace to you.

How can you not see it,
if you stand still enough,
or walk out far enough:
the light shimmering from every leaf,
the actual hardness of every stone?
This stone says something
of humility and presence,
of where it came from, and the belly of stars,
but it stays silent to draw you nearer.
We are, all of us, even the thin geranium
on the back stoop, reaching up
for light, for life, for beauty,
singing out with the great silent voice
of the immense glory of being,
the long, amazing story
and a love story it is.
Without your having to remember—
such a gift, such a gift—
your lungs open to the world
and take in life, each moment.
Who gave you that?
How can you not sing, even in silence?
When we grow afraid we forget,
we wear protective layers
of things to believe, things to do,
so many things to do,
so that we don’t come too near
and catch fire.

Deep Blessings,
Pastor Steve

__________________
Steve Garnaas-Holmes
Unfolding Light
www.unfoldinglight.net

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write to me at unfoldinglight (at) gmail.com

Dearly Beloved,
Grace and Peace to you.

    You sleep and rise night and day,
and the seed sprouts and grow,
you do not know how.
—Mark 4.27

         He was aware that power
had gone forth from him.
—Mark 5.30

Healing happens without my effort,
without my knowing how,
without my knowing at all.

I recover from illness, from trauma,
from exercise, from life:
by resting, that is all.
Healing and growth come in rest,
the stillness between the efforts.

I protect the stillness
in true Sabbath:
not merely nodding to the shrine
as I hurry on,
not promising to be—though I would—
mindful amidst the swirl,
but free of the swirl,
still,
actually stopped,

without fear or guilt,
accomplishing nothing,
repenting of nothing,
purely here, waiting, being.

In stillness alone
you are here

and in stillness
I am with you,
I receive you
and receive your miraculous grace.

Deep Blessings,
Pastor Steve

__________________
Steve Garnaas-Holmes
Unfolding Light
www.unfoldinglight.net

To receive Unfolding Light as a daily e-mail,
write to me at unfoldinglight(at) gmail.com

Dearly Beloved,
Grace and Peace to you.

         Jairus begged him repeatedly, My little daughter is at the point of death. Come and lay your hands on her, so that she may be made well, and live.” So he went with him. And a large crowd followed him and pressed in on him…. Immediately aware that power had gone forth from him, Jesus turned about in the crowd and said, ‘Who touched my clothes?”…. The woman came in fear and trembling, fell down before him, and told him the whole truth. …  While he was still speaking, some people came from the leader’s house to say, “Your daughter is dead. Why trouble the teacher any further?”…. He took her hand, and she got up….
—from Mark 5.2143

Jesus, interrupted, follows.
Interrupted again, he stops.
The clock ticking,
sirens still blaring, lights flashing,
he stops and listens.
His pause, it seems, is deadly.
But it isn’t, is it?

Who does not feel the devil
turning within you, chanting,
There is not enough time?
Who does not fear the story,
told from behind a dark curtain,
You don’t have the power?

Of course you don’t.
It’s not yours.
Time does not belong; it flows.
Power does not sit; it flows.
You don’t have to dip into
your little purse of time and energy:
you let infinite grace flow through you.

Healing happens without your effort;
you are only present.
It is not your time, not your energy, but God’s.
You enter the river, and it flows through you.

When you are present in this moment
you will be present in the next.

And thus it is, when you are present in this life
you are present in the next.

Deep Blessings,
Pastor Steve

__________________
Steve Garnaas-Holmes
Unfolding Light
www.unfoldinglight.net

To receive Unfolding Light as a daily e-mail,
write to me at unfoldinglight(at) gmail.com

Dearly Beloved,
Grace and Peace to you.

The seed sprouts and grows,
you know not how…

The Peace that calms the storm
is already gathering in the heart
of one who sleeps at the stern of the boat…

You will be diverted from your journey
and even in your detour interrupted…

but grace will overtake you.

You will sleep and rise,
you will respond
and be unable to respond…

and grace will overtake you.

You will be stricken.
In your weakness, your brokenness,
in your utter stillness,
healing will work from within,
unseen.

You will cry out against evil,
drowned out by the great storm,
your little cup of healing too small
in the vast crowd…

and grace will overtake you.

Be not afraid.

Deep Blessings,
Pastor Steve

__________________
Steve Garnaas-Holmes
Unfolding Light
www.unfoldinglight.net

To receive Unfolding Light as a daily e-mail,
write to me at unfoldinglight (at) gmail.com

Dearly Beloved,
Grace and Peace to you.

         

A great storm lashes this nation
while much of the people sleep,
a storm of racial hatred, a storm of fear.
In fear a white man seeks out blacks
and kills them in their church.
This is not new.
The storm will not stop,
the waves of death will not stop.
He is only one wave of the storm,
blown by great winds of fear.
It is not out of hope or happiness he kills,
he kills out of fear.
The one wave is not the problem; the storm is.
The storm envelopes us all.
It defeats us, makes us anxious.
We cry, “Do you not care that we are perishing?”

A great storm battered the disciples’ boat.
Wind, invisible and relentless,
howled down on them, pushing against them.
Waves would not stop, would not stop
bashing them, beating them,
filling the boat, threatening to swallow them.

Fear howled in them like the wind,
fear beat in them like waves,
a relentless storm of fear.
Their hearts cried, “Save us! Manage this!”
But Jesus was asleep, not worrying,
not in control. Serene. At peace.
“Jesus, join our anxiety! Won’t you despair with us?”
But Jesus was unafraid.
Maybe weary, maybe needing not to be needed,
but also unafraid. At peace.

It was not fear, but his sisters’ and brothers’ cries
that awakened him. In his deep calm he rose,
not in fear, not in anger, but in peace
and gave his peace to the others,
and gave his peace to the winds and the seas.
Infinite peace flowed through him like wind,
passed out into the world like waves,
peace stronger than the storm.
It was not fear, but peace that calmed the storm.

The Man of Peace cries out in our own souls.
Calms the storms of our fears.
Grants us peace beyond understanding.
We let it fill us, that divine peace,
deep peace with all the world,
deepest love for this world and all its children,
children with and without mercy,
peace with the world and all is raging wounds,
peace even with the storm,
for it is peace with all of life.
This peace is also agony for our sisters and brothers.
It is care that we are perishing.
But it is care, not fear. It is deep peace.

And in that peace we shall awaken.
Not fear but our sister’s and brothers’ cries awaken us.
We rise, as Christ rises, always in hope.
In deep peace, not in fear or anger,
we will rise and stand in the storm.
The winds will whip us.
He waves will batter us. But we will stand,
because Christ stands in us.
We will cry out to the storm,
and cry out to our sisters and bothers
with a peace stronger than the storm,
“Peace! Be still!”

The wind will still lash us, the waves batter.
Fear will react; anger will rise like new waves.
The wounds will retract and hide, afraid to be touched,
the wind afraid to be named.
But in the storm we shall stand in that peace that is love,
cry out with that peace that is anguish,
hold fast with that peace that is courage,
endure with that peace stronger than the storm.
And there shall be peace.

Peace. Be Still.
Why are you afraid? Have you no faith?

Deep Blessings,
Pastor Steve

__________________
Steve Garnaas-Holmes
Unfolding Light
www.unfoldinglight.net

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write to me at unfoldinglight (at) gmail.com

Dearly Beloved,
Grace and Peace to you.

         
I am not in control.

Tuesday afternoon I had a rotten stomach ache. Wednesday I went to the doctor, and she sent me to the ER, where I spent most of the day dressed in what even I with my terrible fashion sense would never wear in public, lying in pain on a stretcher in the hallway, getting a CT scan, and waiting. Having been relieved of my dignity I was then parted with what hurt even more, which was a lot of chest hair with those stickers they use for the pre-surgical EKG. Then I was sent into Utopia, which literally means “nowhere,” which is where you go under anesthesia. It’s a place. Then I came back, light one appendix. At least the rest of the table of contents is still there. (I’m home now, taking it easy.)

There wasn’t much I had control over: not how I spent my day, what was going on inside me, how I felt, what I wore, where I waited, how long it took, or whether the call button worked. I still have to forego some things I had wanted to do these days. I am at the mercy of things beyond my control. But then, so are you.

How we fool ourselves, thinking we’re in control! You might have gone where you chose yesterday, and worn what you picked out. But in many ways we’re all at the mercy of things beyond us. Whether you are a fisherman battered in a little boat by a frightening storm or a captain commanding a great ship, life begins when you accept what is. Wishing it were otherwise, or imagining that you have the power to change it, or berating yourself because you can’t, only makes it worse. You don’t get to choose a lot of what life deals you. You get to choose how you live it. You embrace your limitations and losses. You let it go. This kind of surrender is not defeat; it’s really living. Your power lies in the grace with which you live this life, not one you only imagine. Even a life marked by difficulty, mediocrity or even failure can still be a beautiful life. It’s not the outcome or the outward appearance, it’s your presence that makes it so.

Life is this, not something else. Live this one.

Deep Blessings,
Pastor Steve

__________________
Steve Garnaas-Holmes
Unfolding Light
www.unfoldinglight.net

To receive Unfolding Light as a daily e-mail,
write to me at unfoldinglight (at) gmail.com

Dearly Beloved,
Grace and Peace to you.

God says,
“At an acceptable time I have listened to you,
and on a day of salvation I have helped you.”
See, now is the acceptable time.
Look! Now is the day of salvation!
—2 Corinthians 6.2

This is your salvation:
you are brought into the present moment.
No shame or fear,
not chained to past or future,
only simply present,
in love.

You need nothing else
to be fully present with God.
You are brought,
whole and beloved.

There is nothing else:
no status, no reward,
no conditions.
No “or else,” no “else;”
just this.

In this moment
you are good enough for God,
who is enough for you.

Be here.
Look!

Deep Blessings,
Pastor Steve

__________________
Steve Garnaas-Holmes
Unfolding Light
www.unfoldinglight.net

To receive Unfolding Light as a daily e-mail,
write to me at unfoldinglight (at) gmail.com

Dearly Beloved,
Grace and Peace to you.

         David said to Goliath, “You come to me with sword and spear and javelin; but I come to you in the name of the Lord of hosts, the God of the armies of Israel, whom you have defied.”
—1 Samuel 17.45

I see a lot in the “news” these days about what gender we get to call a transgender person and whether it’s right for a white woman to pass as black. As if we get to decide who people are. We who don’t even know someone give ourselves permission to write their story at a glance: you have this kind of body or that, so here’s who you are. It may seem slight and benign, but those judgments are the spears and javelins of violence. We judge you without knowing you, without hearing your story. We violate who you truly are, so that we can categorize you and oppose you, or use you, or convict you, or shoot you…

David pays no attention to Goliath’s outer nature, or Goliath’s judgment of David’s outer nature. He trusts in who he is and whose he is. Goliath doesn’t get to decide that. David knows his own story. And that’s who he is, not some snap judgment from a stranger. Of course David makes the same kind of judgment about Goliath, and that leads to violence….

Nobody gets to decide who you are—only God. It’s up to you, not society, to discern who that is. Sure, sometimes we’re wrong, but it’s our work, no one else’s. Actually we’re almost always wrong. We think we’re something other than God’s Beloved, something made up. Sometimes others see us more clearly that we do; sometimes they don’t. The work of our lives is to get clear about who we truly are and whose we are. The clearer we get the more fully we become ourselves. And the less we judge other people. We don’t fling the spears and javelins or sling the stones of judgment at them. We listen to their stories.

Never mind all those folks blogging and tweeting about what we get to call people. Stop calling them anything but their names. And never mind the judgments of others about who you are. You are Thou, Beloved of God. Get to know your true self, and live in that truth with courage. It will give you power to overcome giant obstacles.

Deep Blessings,
Pastor Steve

__________________
Steve Garnaas-Holmes
Unfolding Light
www.unfoldinglight.net

To receive Unfolding Light as a daily e-mail,
write to me at unfoldinglight (at) gmail.com

Dearly Beloved,
Grace and Peace to you.

         
         Even though our outer nature is wasting away,
         our inner nature is being renewed day by day.
                  —2 Corinthians 4.16

As I pass my 62^nd birthday I think about the gift of aging. Our culture encourages us to resist the journey of aging (“Look ten years younger!”) and sometimes aging is a pain (literally) but it’s a gift. Aging can give us the wisdom born of experience, the maturity of a calm focus that often eludes us in our energetic youth. “When you were young,” Jesus says, “you went where you wanted. When you are old someone fastens a belt around you and leads you where you don’t choose” (Jn. 21.18). Again is a journey of acceptance, receiving life as it is, not as we wish, or try to make it. It invites us to let go, to release the illusions of power and control, no longer defining ourselves by what we can do.

Aging reveals our souls. We can be less attached to power, security and self-image. We are less defined by our outer nature and more by our inner, where strength is resilience and perseverance, not force; and beauty is presence, not appearance. Our youth-oriented culture sees lives as abjects—bodies, really—but with age we see our lives as stories. As our bodies age and even if they become frail, our souls age as well. We come more wholly to inhabit our inner nature which is love. It is the vibrancy of our inner nature that gives our outer nature its beauty, even in old age. Our stories make even our wrinkles and grey hairs beautiful.

At 62 I’m not old yet. But a birthday reminds me to embrace the journey as I care for my outer nature, to become more truly my inner nature. No matter how the outer nature ages, the inner nature only gets better.

Deep Blessings,
Pastor Steve

__________________
Steve Garnaas-Holmes
Unfolding Light
www.unfoldinglight.net

To receive Unfolding Light as a daily e-mail,
write to me at unfoldinglight (at) gmail.com