The Disciples at the Garden of Gethsemane

No one was there to wipe the tears of the Holy One.

Those disciples had the infinitely unique opportunity to comfort the God of all heaven, the Creator.

They had a chance to show themselves selflessly loyal to the very King of Kings.

We've all heard stories of brave and faithful followers who chose to die with their beloved leaders rather than live without them. The disciples didn't do that, in spite of Peter's bold words from an easier moment.

The disciples had the chance to show their love for their Lord in such a way that they would leave no doubt in anyone's mind that they didn't follow Jesus just for blessing and protection. It would have been so clear how much they loved their King.

But they didn't.

And I believe that Jesus suspected that they wouldn't be able to do it. And it hurt Him, no doubt. But He came for the very purpose of saving the weak from their weakness, rescuing the faithless from their faithlessness, and delivering the sin-sick from the guilt of their iniquity.

So He pressed on in spite of His own personal pain and disappointment. He loved us then, as He does now, in spite of our shortcomings and failures. In spite of all that is wrong with us, He claims us as His own and He will redeem us triumphantly. Don't be discouraged that you need to be redeemed. His love ensures our redemption.

  

I so wanted to approach Him ‘in the now’ last night,
to really spend the kind of time with him
that I needed to spend.
It wasn’t happening
until I
(this is after I’d crawled into bed)
I let myself imagine that he was sitting on the swing outside in the yard,
and I walked toward him.
As I felt the reality of that approach, I, in my mind,
couldn't help but fall at his feet 
and I just hugged his legs - so overwhelmed with love
and with joy sprinkled liberally
right through
my anxiety.

I was content there, just being with him...

Then,

a hand on my shoulder, (he calls those things which aren’t as though they are) 
and as I looked up, the smiling, gentle, loving invitation to come up
and sit with him
to snuggle under his arm
and rock with him together facing the western sky, in its beauty.

How can my soul not be uplifted by this?

In some amazing way, he made this real.
I can only imagine that i has something to do with Him
calling those things that aren’t
as though they are.

Just so we can be together.

I'd Rather Hope...

I'd rather hope a thousand times...

and be disappointed,

than to miss out

on an opportunity to have trusted God.

I'd rather hope a thousand times...

and be disappointed,

than to

not be paying attention when true hope comes along.

I would rather interpret everything as hopeful...

and be disappointed,

than to interpret everything realistically,

and miss the miracles.

I'd rather interpret everything as hopeful...

and be disappointed,

than to miss a chance

to see God

do a miracle.

I'd rather interpret everything as hopeful and be disappointed...

than to disappoint

God

by not being hopeful.

On Praying the Rosary...

Sometimes praying the rosary is like a wonderful adventure. I often can’t get very far with it because I am struck with awe at each step. Making the sign of the cross over myself, knowing what I am introducing myself to and getting ready for; it can be like having been walking in the dark tunnel of existence in this fallen world, and then coming to an opening to the outside, and a finding myself on a ledge with a stunning vista view.

Then I make the first step closer to that vista, knowing where I am going, but anticipating that the path itself will be different than before and strewn with treasures and delights that I didn’t see the last time. Like walking a well-known path through the woods and fields – the path is well worn but all that exists along it is never the same. Life exists along it, and seasons change, and there is so much ‘activity’ that it is always a new experience.

Praying the rosary can be like that. And often I find myself stopping at some point along the way for a very long time because what I find there arrests my attention, like coming across a family of birds doing bird things along the trail, or noticing a bizarrely beautiful fungus on a tree along the way. And as with nature, when you stop walking to look closely or watch one thing, you find that you notice other things that you would have missed if you hadn’t stopped.

Sometimes praying the rosary is like eating an exquisite meal, an expertly prepared meal of many courses, brought before you at a time when you are particularly hungry, and the perfection of each dish, of each bite, can’t help but be savored.

I think there are many wonderful things to which praying the rosary can be likened. But going back to my first image, that of coming out at the mouth of a dark tunnel to a ledge over-looking a vista, that is my favorite today. And that first step, clasping the crucifix in my palm and holding it tightly, and beginning the prayer:

“I”

There is a whole world of wonder right there, and when I am truly awake in my spirit to pray, this becomes a precious point of contemplation.

“I” exist. Right now, I am alive. I was created by God to be in relationship with him, he loves me, he is with me, he is working in my life and in my heart some great thing that is unique to me – the perfection of my being – I am a gift to myself, from God. He has made a space and a place for me to exist, and he is in it with me. I am able to stop and be conscious of his presence, I am able to be conscious of my own existence, I have a brain and a heart and a will. I am. And I am loved by my creator. It is like finding the center of the universe, and a contented peace comes with it that sets the stage for what comes next and also draws me gently on.

Not only do I exist, but I “believe”. What a joyous exercise of freedom, to believe. To exist at all, and to be able to believe something – this is miracle and a wonder all on its own, just to exist and have the ability to believe something are two wondrous gifts that we take for granted like we do every breath we take. Who am I, Lord, that you have created me, and then given me the ability to choose to believe things or not? To be complex enough to think about anything at all, to be able to ponder things in a way that can lead to belief or disbelief – all of this we take for granted, forgetting that we are truly just dust after all, dust that he has chosen to come close enough to, to breathe on...