April 20, 2020

Beloved in Christ,

I’ve felt the Spirit nudging me this week, asking “How are you spending your time?”  From conversations (and your online presence), I know many are participating in services all around the Episcopal Church; others pray the Daily Office and share virtually prayer with family and friends; several have found the time to work on long-postponed projects, and some are catching up on family activities and movie time. All I’ve spoken to are committed, even when it’s frustrating, to do our part to support the shelter-in-place order, striving to actively do our part to contain the spread of COVID-19.

I wanted to share that I’m also striving to remember to slow down and see — to witness what is happening all around me. As silly as it sounds, that’s not always natural for me. I can get so focused on the doing, thinking about those next things that need to be done — the next virtual worship service, the next virtual meeting, the next step to support the food pantry or connect with those both within and outside our All Saints Community. It’s pretty easy for me to forget to be present in the now.

I was reminded of this reality on Sunday during our morning rain. As I sipped my coffee, running through that ever-present to-do list in my mind, I actually saw what was right in front of me . . . the muted light and overcast sky revealing the vibrant hues of the potted plants surrounding the colorful work shed. These small things, always right in front of me, simply popped to my attention in the filtered light. And at that exact moment, I began to sense the soothing sound of the rain on the roof and the contrasting staccato beat of the drops striking the flashing around the chimney — a blessed, syncopated rhythm resonating in the morning silence — and I felt God’s presence, joy, and peace.

Where is God in all this uncertainty and waiting? Right here with us — leading us, guiding us, and loving us. Trying times can still hold many blessed moments: time to learn about ourselves, what we handle well, as well as our growing edges; time to learn about our communities, the wonderful ways so many compassionately care for the stranger among us, as well as our weaknesses  — those human-made policies, structures, and systems that disproportionately hurt the most vulnerable, putting the weak at risk of being left even farther behind. Through it all, God is with us . . . ever-present in the “wondrous journeys still to be ours” (Mary Oliver) and inviting us to join him in His way of Love.

My prayer for us all is that we take the time to be with God daily, intentionally slowing down to pray, to listen, to meditate on the Word, for our Lord and Savior Jesus Christ longs for us to build an ever-deeper relationship with him in our daily walk towards his Eternal Presence.  Live into the promise of the Risen Lord, for hope and reconciliation will have the last word as God’s love prevails.

Blessings,

Mother Bonnie+

P.S. I’d like to share a poem from Mary Oliver, LAST NIGHT THE RAIN SPOKE TO ME

Last night

the rain

spoke to me

slowly, saying

what joy

to come falling

out of the brisk cloud,

to be happy again

in a new way

on the earth!

That's what it said

as it dropped,

smelling of iron,

and vanished

like a dream of the ocean

into the branches

 and the grass below.

Then it was over.

The sky cleared.

I was standing

 under a tree.

The tree was a tree

with happy leaves,

and I was myself,

and there were stars in the sky

that were also themselves

at the moment,

at which moment

 my right hand

was holding my left hand

which was holding the tree

which was filled with stars

 and the soft rain—

imagine! imagine!

the long and wondrous journeys

still to be ours.