Breathe Deep, Blaze, and Be Blessed
Grateful for a God-kiss this week that helps
Just a week into the Trump administration, it was already being reported that this new administration is employing a strategy to “flood the zone” with so many new directives and initiatives all at one once so as to disorient those would seek to resist or raise a voice against any one of them. More about “flooding the zone” here and Kristin Du Mez writes more here.
To change the metaphor, this strategy seems to be to move so many things forward all at the same time with such breath-taking speed that it takes’s a person’s breath way, leaving them breathless and unable to do much.
My observation and personal experience is that this, so far, is a pretty effective strategy. Like everyone else I have lots of thoughts, but which ones to write down or write about? And is writing about it my best thing to do at this moment? What to say about which thing? I find myself constantly trying to catch my breath while shaking my head during this season of great change at great speed.
[NB: There are things to write and say, there are things to do. I’m taking time to discern what are mine, and what are ours. Diana Butler Bass is wise when she said Thursday night in a conversation with Jamar Tisby, Robby Jones, and Kristin Du Mez, “I’m focusing really hard on trying to figure out what my lane is. I think it’s really important to figure out our own lanes, and supporting everyone else in their lanes.”]
In talking with a couple of members of our Coracle team about this quandary, one of them suggested exploring what does the contemplative posture offer right now. This is a great question, one I’m going to keep coming back to. Let’s start with this particular Substack, read on…
Some of you know I’ve been thinking deeply for about 18 months on the deeper invitations of the Christian life in imagery of light and flame (for example), even offering a presentation “Why Not Become All Flame?” three times in the last 12 months. (We’ll offer that again Saturday morning, March 15 in Arlington, and virtually Wednesday night April 23…watch the Coracle weekly newsletter for more about that). Just this past Sunday night we went through it together with a group of about 20 people in our living room.
A couple of days later, our friend Liz McCloskey sent along this blessing/prayer/poem from Jan Richardson, a Methodist minister, painter, and poet. It’s perfect. Receiving it felt like a God-kiss.
What to do in dark days? Be light.
What to do in darkening times? Be light.
What is the best response to darkness? Be light.
Being light happens by staying deeply connected to the Light of the World (John 8,12), letting his light shine through us.
This is her “Blessed are you who bear the light”. It’s taken from her book Circle of Grace: A Book of Blessings for the Seasons, originally published in the Winter 2017 issue of HOPE magazine.
Take a deep breath. Inhale deeply. Exhale deeply. Know the love of God that surrounds you. Know the love of God that you’re breathing in. Know that God sees you, is pleased that you’re wanting and praying. Know that as you’re conscientiously breathing, you’re somehow connecting to God whose name sounds like breathing.
Having settled yourself in God’s loving presence, hear these words of blessing as if being spoken over you. In these dark, unbearable times…
Blessed are you
who bear the light
in unbearable times,
who testify
to its endurance
amid the unendurable,
who bear witness
to its persistence
when everything seems
in shadow
and grief.Blessed are you
in whom
the light lives,
in whom
the brightness blazes—
your heart
a chapel,
an altar where
in the deepest night
can be seen
the fire that
shines forth in you
in unaccountable faith,
in stubborn hope,
in love that illumines
every broken thing
it finds.
Each day, friends, let and may our hearts be a chapel, an altar wherein the deepest night can be seen, the fire that shines forth in us.