Psalm 19:1 The heavens are telling the glory of God; and the firmament proclaims God’s handiwork. (NRSV) A week and a day before Halloween I was up on the ninth floor of a high-rise just in time for sunset. And as I settled into the corner of one of the couches, I witnessed one of the most beautiful sunsets I’d seen in my lifetime. Coincidence? Right place, right time? Called by the One who knows me best? I don’t know. Even though it was late October, that sunset held a winter sky. There was a lot of gray. But the setting of the sun was a bright, yellow slit cut across the gray clouds. I sat and watched as that slit fell silently from the sky. More often than not when I have the time/take the time to watch a sunset, I am reminded of images described by the writer of Psalm 19. In those precious minutes, I'm aware that my mind slows and comes to a place of rest. I find that I start breathing deeper. Here, in this unexpected time more often than not, I remember to pray. In the next several minutes on that late October evening, I witnessed the slit settle into the horizon. I took a deep breath and exhaled a thankful “amen.” As I started gathering up my stuff around me, I turned to offer one last “thank you.” And when I did I was overwhelmed by nothing short of glory. The sky had exploded into layers of orange and red, yellow, blue and purple. I wished I’d had my phone, so I could have taken a picture. Or I wished that I was half the artist Mom was or John Brogan is ~ so that I might paint what filled the western sky. “The heavens were surely telling the glory of God….” There is a holiness in sunset-watching. I learned it from my grandparents in Illinois and it was strengthen at my mother’s side. It is truly a spiritual practice. It asks for attention and patience. Time is different here. More often than not (because sunset-watching doesn’t happen in a hurry or all at once) I find myself praying in that way that I don’t bring God my agenda. Instead this kind of praying is the sorting-through-thoughts-and-memories kind of praying. This kind of praying is that pausing, stopping, listening kind of praying. Just as the western sky holds a canvas that is gently and subtly changing shape and color, so then is my prayer. Healing of our hearts and hurts can come in unexpected ways. Moments like that sunset on the ninth floor reminded me of the holy-waiting that invites us to witness the glory of God. It invites to stop for just a time and remove our shoes, for surely we are standing on holy ground. Times like that, reminds us that we are not alone. We are reminded in those holy moments that there's something greater than ourselves. Someone greater than us ~ yet amazingly, thankfully, deeply connected to us. Always has been, always will be. Breath prayer: “witnessing” “God’s handiwork” All Encompassing One, you bring beauty into our lives each day. You have created and are creating still the miracles of our days. Open our eyes, our ears and our hearts so that we don’t miss your glory all around us. We offer our thanks and alleluia. Amen. [ Editor's note: This is one of the chapter's from my next book, "Grief and the Moon."] {And below is a picture friend, Susie took years ago with Sam. It's a different miracle...and the amazing truth is ~ miracles are shown us everyday} Psalm 36:5 Yahweh, your faithful love is in the heavens, your constancy reaches to the clouds. (NJB) “It’s been a year,” my friend said smiling with her whole body. A year. A year since her diagnosis of breast cancer. A year since surgery and radiation. A year since her life was turned upside down and inside out. All of a year…only a year. A year’s time can be like the blinking of an eye, or it can feel like eternity. It’s a marking of time, but these words only begin to tell the story. For some this marking is time living with an illness. For others it marks the days into weeks, weeks into months after a great loss. We can find encouragement in Psalm 36. Here we are reminded of God’s faithfulness to us. Constancy. Enduring presence. Continual source of hope. From beginning to end and into beginning again, God is with us. In the words of my friend, I heard her proclaiming celebration and as I listened closer I could hear “alleluias” sung by angels. In these same words spoken by those who are learning to live without a loved one, I sense the changing of trees from falling of leaves, to the barrenness of winter, to the buds of springtime. God’s faithful love is in the heavens and God’s love is right here beside us. God’s love is with us as we listen for one another’s words, as we listen for one another’s hearts. Breath prayer: “faithful” “love” Prayer: Holy God, we are in awe of your graceful presence. We look to the heavens and marvel at all that you have created and are creating still. Send your loving spirit and remind us that hope is all around us and holding us close. We give thanks for our days in years, we give thanks that always, always you are with us. Amen. |
Lesley BroganWorking in Family Experience at Children's Healthcare of Atlanta, Lesley is an ordained minister in the United Church of Christ. A Candler School of Theology graduate, Lesley has just published her second book, Grief and the Psalms: Companioning the Moon for 29 Days (available on this website). She and her partner, Linda Ellis are raising their two sons, Brogan and Sam in Decatur, GA. Archives
April 2018
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