Devotions Archive
Archive:
1999
|
2000
|
2001
|
2002
|
2003
|
2004
|
2005
|
2006
|
2007
|
2008
|
2009
|
2010
|
2011
|
2012
|
2013
|
2014
|
2015
|
2016
|
2017
|
2018
|
2019
|
2020
|
2021
|
2022
|
2023
|
2024
When I look at youSunday, April 10, 2016
Revelation 5 Call it a walking meditation. Contemplation with your legs moving ... no hurry ... just a way to DO "being". Be still and know that I am God. Walk a labyrinth, and know that I am God. Reach the center, say "Amen," and fall down to worship. What joy in heaven when we reach that place to say "Amen." Every creature in heaven AND earth, and under the earth. What joy. All of us are known in every cell by God who makes us; and what's more, we know we're known. A woman spent a restful night on retreat and in the morning walked to the bathroom. As she passed the mirror she glanced at herself and said, "No wonder God loves me!" What did she see? She didn't think so highly of her looks. But she saw what she called "God-in-me." She looked again and saw only herself. Thomas Merton visited Louisville frequently to run errands for his fellow monks at the Abbey of Gethsemani. Merton stood at the corner of Fourth Street and Walnut one day in 1958 and fell in love: "I was suddenly overwhelmed with the realization that I loved all those people, that they were mine and I theirs, that we could not be alien to one another even though we were total strangers ... There is no way of telling people that they are all walking around shining like the sun." The labyrinth at St. Louis' Mercy Center is quiet and beautiful. At its entrance a welcome-stone carries Merton's words. On warm days, the stone soaks up the sun. It reminds me that God-in-me sings together with God-in-you, and God-in-all-of-us. The harmonies are sweet, and the echoes are infinite, and we all fall down and worship. Lord, when I look at you I see your eyes open and friendly and full of hope. I see you beckoning to me, to us, as you sit on the edge of the well full of water, and I know I can come sit down and lean against your knees. Words aren't what we share, but rich silence. When I look at you. |