Sunday, July 7, 2013

Easter in July



I've found a new blog that has lit a fire under my spiritual self. You know that commercial where a woman hits herself in the head and says, "I could have had a V-8?" That's how I felt after reading yesterday's post about waiting.

“To create newness you have to cover the soul and let grace rise. You must come to the place where there’s nothing to do but brood, as God brooded over the deep, and pray and be still and trust that the holiness that ferments the galaxies is working in you too. Only wait. 
And somehow the transformation you knew would never come, that impossible plumping of fresh life and revelation, does come. It manifests itself in unseen slowness. So it would happen to me and so it will happen to all who set out to knead their pain and wounds, their hopes and hungers, into bread. Waiting is the yeasting of the human soul.” Sue Monk Kidd, When The Heart Waits
"Waiting is the yeasting of the human soul." OMG, I love that line. 

Seems like I've been waiting for awhile, and not even sure what I'm waiting for.  I've heard it said that when the student is ready, the teacher will appear. Perhaps I've just been waiting for the Ronna's lessons.

I used to think I was a really patient person, that I could win a waiting contest. You'd only have to sit with me in line at the McDonald's drive-thru to know that I'm far from patient. I'm only a good waiter if there is something interesting to watch while I'm waiting, or I'm standing next to an obviously bad waiter.  The next time I find myself waiting, I'm going to remind myself to be patient, that my soul is yeasting.

Along those same lines I noticed, today, how "the holiness that ferments galaxies" also fermented, (converted) the pain of grief into a new normal.  

In the Episcopal Church today was the 7th Sunday after Pentecost. But as I was leaving church I noticed Easter in the smiles on the faces and light in the eyes of a couple who just a few years ago lost their 3 year old baby. I know that grief eventually passes and the living somehow go on living. But it was hard to accept that when you looked at this broken couple and their close relatives,  all of them stalwarts of the church, believers in a God of mercy and grace. But when you watch your baby die a slow death, I think, even believers lose faith.

This couple's yeasting did not happen in 3 days. I wasn't privy to how their fermentation took place. Yet, today, as I watched them smile I felt a little of what the women at Christ's tomb must have felt. 
Life resurrected. Hope reborn. Love renewed.

What are you waiting for?
Merry ME



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