Telling the Truth

connecting the dots of my life

Tag: Christian Faith

She sweeps with many-colored Brooms —

sunset-jm_1_creek

Here’s a charming poem from Emily Dickinson. It suits my mood for something that turns my eyes toward the heavens. Something spectacular that hints of glory and power beyond our human capacities. My personal response follows.

She sweeps with many-colored Brooms –
And leaves the Shreds behind –
Oh Housewife in the Evening West –
Come back, and dust the Pond!

You dropped a Purple Ravelling in –
You dropped an Amber thread –
And now you’ve littered all the East
With Duds of Emerald!

And still, she plies her spotted Brooms,
And still the Aprons fly,
Till Brooms fade softly into stars –
And then I come away –

c. 1861

Emily Dickinson Poems, Edited by Brenda Hillman
Shambhala Pocket Classics, Shambhala 1995

I first found this poem in my Emily Dickinson collection for young people. However, it’s also in my adult collection. So taking the role of an adult child, several possible responses come to mind.

  • If this Housewife is trying to clean things up, she isn’t very efficient. Just look at all the bits and pieces she’s dropping and leaving behind! Doesn’t she know how to sweep anything right? Look at that! She just left dust all over the Pond!
  • Whatever’s going on up there, it doesn’t have any rhyme or reason. The longer she sweeps, the more littered it gets. First this bit left behind, then that. All swept helter skelter across the face of the heavens. Maybe she doesn’t have good eyesight.
  • Also, why waste so many Aprons and colored Brooms? One of each would be more than enough. She isn’t very cost conscious, is she? All that effort and investment for just a few minutes of who knows what. A flash in the sky. That’s all.
  • Now look at that! It’s already getting dark out here. I don’t think she knows what she’s doing. This isn’t going to amount to a hill of beans in the morning. In fact, all her hard work will be for nothing in just a few seconds. Why bother?

Of course all that is nonsense. Emily isn’t writing about a sloppy housewife. She’s describing a majestic display in the heavens that just keeps traveling around the earth each minute of every sunset.

Even more amazing, the beauty being swept across the evening sky comes from the remains of the day. The ‘Duds.’ The ragged old clothes that are tired and worn out. Not sure they’ll live to see the next day. Coming near the end of their life, almost but not quite disappearing into darkness.

Such a spectacular, even wasteful show of beauty. Doesn’t this Housewife understand what’s going on down here? How dare She waste time with the dust and duds of this earth in a show of supposed glory? Doesn’t She know what really matters and will make a concrete difference?

I love the extravagance of this Housewifely Creator. Day in and day out. One magical sunrise and sunset after another. Especially sunsets that transform bits and pieces of throw-away detritus and fragile whisps of clouds, making them a Prelude to the starry night. All for our delight, awe and encouragement. We are not left to our own devices.

Psalm 8:3-4
When I consider your heavens, the work of your fingers,
the moon and the stars, which you have set in place,
what are human beings that you are mindful of them,
mere mortals, that you care for them?

© Elouise Renich Fraser, 28 January 2017
Image found at nikonusa.com

Dear God | Unfiltered

I wrote this last night, and am letting it go in this post as my next small step in this Trump presidency era. I’ve changed nothing, and have added one small explanatory note about one of the words I use. Even though you may not be a Christian or agree with me about our situation, please read it. It’s to God, and it’s also from my heart to your heart.

Dear God,
I don’t know where or how to start praying for our country or myself or my family and friends or our supposed leader. I feel at a loss.

I think most of all I want to affirm over and over that You are my Leader. My One and Only Leader who made each of us and this world that seems to be falling apart. You are my eyes, my ears, my mouth. I know this isn’t true of me now, but I want to see, listen and speak in ways that honor you as my Most High God. The only One to whom I owe total allegiance. I read that focusing on You is the best way to deal with what’s going on all around me right now. I’m not sure how that works, but I’d rather look to You than to anyone else right now.

I don’t feel abandoned. I do feel uneasy, uncertain, somewhat caught off guard—even though the warning signs were all there. Mr. Trump is not a trustworthy leader, yet I’m supposed to pray for him and for the good of our nation. Well, I’m not sure what that would look like, so I’m not sure how to pray in that way.

If I could say You’re on my side (and against others), that might feel a bit easier. But You’re for everyone, though not without discrimination* regarding our hearts. So tonight I just want to bring you my heart for safekeeping while I sleep. I pray that I’ll be honest and unblinking about reality, without becoming cynical or giving up. Or even making it all about how awful DT is.

DT does not define reality. You do. Your eyes see with utmost clarity all things. I can only count on that, though I wish I could experience it. So in this strange reality that doesn’t feel like reality at all, I pray that I’ll remain faithful to you and to my family and to the people you bring into my life. We’re all lost and weary and confused. Devious and proud. In many ways, DT is a larger than life version of each of us in these difficult and even shocking days.

What good can come of this? I don’t know. I’m putting it in front of You, though, because You see all and know all before it ever comes to pass.

Thy kingdom come—on earth as it is in heaven. Give me grace, strength and boldness to follow Your son Jesus who has gone before us to show us the way. Not the correct way, but the way to worship and honor You above all others. No matter what the cost.

I pray that You will clarify for me, or lead me to next steps I can take to be Your faithful beloved daughter child. A clear and listening witness to these troubled times.

I pray in Jesus’ name,
Amen

*Discrimination: recognition and understanding of differences – a good thing, in this context

*****

© Elouise Renich Fraser, 27 January 2017
Written in my journal before going to bed on Thursday, Jan. 27, 2017
My contribution to today’s WordPress Daily Prompt: Filter

Riding the Storm

william-cowper-quote-i-seem-forsaken

Following President Trump’s inaugural address yesterday, I toyed with the idea of writing a letter and posting it. It would have gone something like this:

Dear World,
The new President of the USA does not speak for me. Please don’t judge me or my neighbors harshly because we’re from the USA. You and I have gotten along quite well so far. In fact, I wouldn’t be who I am today without you. I’d like to think I’ve contributed a bit to your life, as well.

If you’re reading this, I know you won’t treat me poorly because I’m from the USA. Still, a cold chill went up my spine when I heard President Trump’s angry determination to put America first. And last, it seems, since there weren’t any other countries that came in second or even third.

Thank you for your friendship and hospitality. I sincerely trust this ‘new’ approach to the rest of the world won’t stop us from welcoming each other and working together on things that matter for all of us.

Sincerely,
Elouise

So I didn’t post this letter. Instead, I’m thinking about the storm of uncertainty, confusion, disillusionment, anger and fear that surround Trump’s presidency. Where do I stand? How do I keep my footing? Especially since I don’t know where the storm is going.

Ever since the presidential election results were announced, I’ve thought about William Cowper (‘Cooper’). He was a poet and hymn writer from Britain. Born in 1731; died in 1800. His life was filled with hard times such as the death of his mother and most of his siblings, bullying at school, and his father’s refusal to allow him to marry his sweetheart who happened to be his cousin.

As an adult Cowper struggled with deep depression and manic episodes. He attempted suicide on several occasions, was put in an institution and declared insane. He was also a prolific writer of hymns, poetry and occasional prose.

Two stanzas of one of his hymns, possibly the last he wrote, keep going through my mind. In the hymn a fierce storm rages. Surprisingly, God doesn’t calm the storm; God uses it to do something else. Something mysterious.

In order to do this, God steps smack into the middle of the storm and rides it like a chariot. This could be Cowper’s personal storm or our personal storms. It could also be our current political storm, with its global implications.

Cowper’s words help focus me. They’re also calming, reassuring and challenging. We haven’t been left to our own devices.

Here are the stanzas I’ve been thinking about and singing to myself. You’ll find all stanzas here.

God moves in a mysterious way
His wonders to perform;
He plants His footsteps in the sea
And rides upon the storm. . . .

Ye fearful saints, fresh courage take;
The clouds ye so much dread
Are big with mercy and shall break
In blessings on your head.

c 1770

William Cowper, published by John Newton in Twenty-six Letters on Religious Subjects, 1774

Without ignoring the storm, Cowper’s hymn invites me to focus on what God is going to do. Not without, but by way of the storm. Blessings will fall. Not on a calm sea, but in the midst of stormy adversity. A sweet flower will bloom from what seems to be a bitter bud.

My part is to keep the faith so that I can recognize and celebrate the work of our Creator in the midst of what seems a chaotic mess.

Thanks for reading and listening.
Elouise

© Elouise Renich Fraser, 21 January 2017
Quotation found at QuoteHD.com

Breath of God Unseen

wind-sculpted-drifts-martin-nd-13-jan-2017

Breath of God
Unseen
Artist of my heart
And life
Breathe on me 

The wind is cold
Unyielding
To my vain cries
For mercy
Breathe on me 

Evening shadows
Lengthen
In fading light
Brilliant
and foreboding 

Deep blue sky
Darkens
Trees bend and sway
Breath of God
Breathe on me 

It’s late afternoon. This morning I woke to this photo on my weather page. I thought immediately about my life and the way God’s Spirit has blown through and around it, unseen and unbidden.  

Looking back, I’d say the outcomes today are beyond my wildest dreams. Not that I’m perfect or successful or even ‘special.’ Rather, this is about contentment. 

I’m at peace with myself, though not always with situations in which I find myself.  Or even with my behavior. Nonetheless, things have changed in my spirit over the last several years. 

Today I have compassion for myself as a child, as a young teenager, as a wife, mother and grandmother, and as a retired professional. I rarely struggle with feeling like a fraud, or with harsh self-talk that belittles me or accuses me of being The Problem with Everything. 

I’m not saying I’m perfect. I’m saying I’m at rest with who I am and who I am not. Especially from the inside out. The part that really matters. 

I like what I see when I think of myself as a huge pile of snow, sculpted by God’s Spirit through winds of change. I know, things aren’t exactly spectacular in the world right now. It’s just that today I’m at peace with myself.

Thanks for reading! I pray you’ll have a peace-filled Sabbath rest.

© Elouise Renich Fraser, 14 January 2017
Photo taken by Brian Bender at Martin, North Dakota, USA, 13 Jan 2017
Found at Weather Underground App

Response to WordPress Daily Prompt: Unseen

Crossings of No Return

Crossings….

The word resonates with finality
Hints of danger and uncertainty
Sorrow and desperation
Weary clothes and
Hungry faces

One foot in front of the other
Backs burdened with life’s necessities
Bodies and bellies heavy
With tomorrow’s children
Silently pleading

They say our world is disappearing
Melting and boiling away before our eyes
Erupting into a chaotic crisis
Unknown in modern times
Are we ready for this crossing?

I can’t help wondering what lies ahead for this world and for us as citizens of this world. Our insular, isolated, boundaried ways of life don’t work well anymore, and our ways of governing seem to have reached their own point of no return.

Years ago I crossed a line of no return. I chose to be a follower of Jesus Christ. I don’t believe there’s a magic wand answer for any of this world’s upheavals. Yet I do believe we see a direction in the life, ministry and death of Jesus Christ. Not the superstar, but the human being sent to this earth to live and to die as one of us and as God’s beloved son.

Jesus made a crossing of no return when he came to live with and among us. He wasn’t president, emperor or chief. Nor was he a privileged member of the religious or political elite, or a child of God immune to human emotions and agony.

His life was short. Yet in his short life I find a direction that hasn’t changed even with our current global upheavals. Taking my cues from Jesus, I’m to love God, my neighbors and myself. Acknowledge my human limitations and need for others. Be ready to accept and offer hospitality from and to strangers. Bear the cost and share the compassion of being a follower of Jesus Christ.

Do I feel strong? Rarely. Do I feel ready? Rarely. Do I feel like giving up? Sometimes. Yet the steady, courageous, compassionate and steel-eyed clarity I see in narratives about Jesus’ life on this earth remains my True North. The one point on my compass that won’t change no matter what it takes to get from here to there.

What does this look like day by day? It’s all in my outlook. Each encounter might become an opportunity to ask for help or to offer help as I’m able and ready to identify myself as a follower of Jesus Christ. Most important, I’m not a savior. I’m another human being who won’t make it in this life on her own.

© Elouise Renich Fraser, 4 January 2017
Response to WordPress Daily Prompt: Crossing

Don’t lose heart!

Renewal: urban renewal, spiritual renewal, book renewals (from the library), renewed vision, renewed strength, and renewed energy.

A-ha! Renewed energy! I long for it, yet experience it these days in tantalizing bits that often dissipate overnight.

From the day I was born in 1943, I began dying. Stranger still, everyone around me thought I was just revving up. Maturing. Developing. Becoming a mature, responsible adult woman.

Which means on my way to death. Right?

No one lasts on this earth forever. How dismal can it get? I’m not a pessimist, but I’m also not a gung-ho optimist, so finding my balance from day to day is dicey.

My tock is ticking down. Relentlessly.

Yet I feel more myself than ever before. More at peace with who I am, if not at peace with everything that happens to me. And yes, I want to be renewed. Who doesn’t?

Renewal hurts. Something has to go. Or be altered. Even then, renewal isn’t guaranteed. Especially if I think I’ll get back what I just lost. So that my life can go on ‘as usual.’

Things falling apart is usual. Making do is usual. Total restoration of all bits and pieces of me is neither usual nor guaranteed in this life.

This past year, things fell apart. Unexpected visitors (heart problems, broken jaw, Lucy pacemaker) moved in to stay. When I’m willing to stop, accept, and listen to them, they free my spirit and my writing voice in ways I don’t understand.

So I haven’t lost heart, and I pray you haven’t either. For me, renewal is happening alongside things falling apart internally and externally. Especially renewal of my inner-woman voice that leaps out of my fingers when I sit down at my computer.

Thanks for reading and listening!

Elouise

© Elouise Renich Fraser, 29 December 2016
Response to WordPress Daily Prompt: Renewal

Pillage: I loathe this word

I loathe this word I don’t want to say
Nothing about it attracts me
Or suggests anything to say about it
Much less use it in a sentence 

My abhorrence lies in its power
To bring images to mind —
Images that compound this world’s evil
Leaving no peace for victims 

Yet one image alone gives me hope
It’s stronger than these robbers —
The image of Jesus Christ
Whose birth we just recognized 

I imagine JC—not the Superstar
And not Jesus meek and mild
Rather, JC storming the bastions of hell
Within and without 

Cleaning out the stench of our stables
Knocking relentlessly on our doors
Anointing our scars and wounds
With oil of healing and compassion 

JC turns pillaging on its head
Inside out and upside down
Not with the flick of a magic wand
But in his life of full allegiance
To the One who sent him to our aid —
Victims and perpetrators alike

How can we not welcome his appearance?

© Elouise Renich Fraser, 28 December 2016
Response to WordPress Daily Prompt: Pillage

Advent and Post-Election Questions

light-shining-in-the-darkness

The votes are cast; the election is over. I feel lost. Not because of changes in me, but in my context. Who am I now? Which way will I go? What about tomorrow?

I want to plead with God for a different outcome. But heaven is silent. The votes were cast, and the election is over. Read the rest of this entry »

How to be Wise, not Good

I grew up believing the Bible would teach me to be a good girl. The other option? Ignore the Bible and grow up to be a bad girl. I just needed to read the Bible, study it, and take it to heart. 

Maybe I’m trying to split a hair, but I don’t think being ‘good’ is the same as being ‘wise.’ Many ‘good’ girls grow up to be like fools. Not all the time, and not by choice. Sadly, they weren’t encouraged to learn the meaning of wisdom—not just as an idea, but as a way of life.  Read the rest of this entry »

Heav’n and earth shall flee away

It’s bleak. Outside and inside. Cold, damp weather. Unpredictable tears. Aches and pains. Low energy. Missing my family members. Worldwide tragedy and political uncertainty. You get the picture.

As always, music helps me refocus when I hit low spots. Last night Read the rest of this entry »