Gift

…gift is an empowerment, something that allows us to travel further on our way to highest possible expression of ourselves.  In this way, even difficulties are gifts…because they all have energy within them to teach us something vital about ourselves and the nature of our lives in this reality.

One Drum: Stories and Ceremonies for a Planet, Richard Wagamese

I will give you the treasures of darkness

 and riches hidden in secret places,

so that you may know that it is I, the Lord,

 the God of Israel, who call you by your name.      Isaiah 45:3

When I was walking the dog yesterday, a beautiful day here, my neighbour said, “We live in paradise!” Yes, I do, I thought. It is a gift.

I’ve been reading Isaiah and Richard Wagamese’s last book, One Drum, in the mornings. I find ideas do converge unexpectedly. What stood out to me as I read this chapter in Isaiah was this part about treasures in darkness and riches hidden in secret places. That seems to be especially true for most of us right now, if we linger. Whenever I’ve been most worried or unsure, some thing happens to open a possibility.

I don’t consider myself a structured person. And yet, for most of my adult life, I’ve spent some time, most days, reading in a way that helped me make sense of my life.  The Bible, memoir, novels, and even so-called children’s books are my “source material” that engenders the magic. Over and over it happens, a gift of reading bits and pieces that add up.

 When my children were young or when I had a more demanding job, I might only spend minutes in the morning reading this way, but the books were always near-by my morning chair or the quiet corner . Over the years the activity has stretched immeasurably.  There have also been days and weeks that I didn’t read with that openness.  However, the practice is always waiting for me.

 Often the gifts I receive get buried again in my journals. I used to only write down a scripture reference or sometimes a quote, keeping a sort of commonplace journal. I have a few old ones and I can simply look at the date and the reference or quote and remember something when I sat on the white couch in the sunny bedroom with large windows in 1986.  Now, with notebooks filled with words, I move on to the next day’s worries and forget the gift for a time.

So, I intend to write these things for some days in this blog as they emerge, to pay attention and to rest in the goodness.  To simply accept what I’ve been given and listen for my name.

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