Trust in the Slow Work of God

And so I think it is with you.
Your ideas mature gradually -
let them grow,
let them shape themselves,
without undue haste.

- Pierre Teilhard de Chardin. You can read the rest here.

Like a Thousand Red Birds

"We clutch our tiny bits of faith in tight fists,
shoved firmly into our pockets.
We clutch it suspiciously, so unwilling to let it go -
we don't want to lose it."

Read the rest of Phil Porter's poem here

My Eyes So Soft

"Don’t
Surrender
Your loneliness so quickly.
Let it cut more
Deep."

- Hafiz, click here to read the rest.

Only Remember

"Only Remember"
by Ruth Van Gorder

"I shall not pray to God for you
for what I think you would
like to have, or ought to have,
of gain or grace or good;"

Read the rest here

Faith in a Dress

Last month I mentioned that The Porpoise Diving Life was going to have a women-only issue come out this month.

Well, it's out. Click here to read Faith in a Dress. I wasn't published in it (as I couldn't think of anything good to submit), but I know some of the people who are in it. :)

Crisis of Faith and Salsa*

Amy wrote a beautiful post entitled *"Crisis of Faith and Salsa" that I think typifies many of my generation's experiences with God. Like many, she grew up in a Christian home and no longer identifies with the religion. She had an experience this Sunday that spoke volumes to her. It is insightful and inspiring. Here's an excerpt:

I wondered what happened to my faith and my fervor and my absolute belief in the Bible and the existence of God and heaven. I wondered when everything got so messed up for me, and why I have such ambivalence to the idea of putting on some nice pants and going to church on Sunday.

The church family's little boy spilled some rice, and the young man handed them his extra napkins.

I wonder if he'll ever know how much his actions spoke to me this Sunday.

*****
I am reminded of this verse that I think speaks so clearly to Amy's essay:

If I speak in the tongues of men and of angels, but have not love, I am only a resounding gong or a clanging cymbal. And if I have the gift of prophecy and understand all mysteries and all knowledge, and if I have all faith so as to remove mountains, but have not love, I am nothing. And if I give all my possessions to the poor, and if I deliver my body to be burned, but have not love, it profits me nothing. (1 Corinthians 13:1-3)

If we have not love, we have nothing. Feel God's love for you. Revel in it. Then you can't help but spill it out on to others, like the man in Amy's post.

I love the way she wrote about her experience. If someone encountered you at a restaurant on a Sunday afternoon, what might their impression be?

x-posted from my personal blog

The Thin Places

The Thin Places is an amazing (mostly) poetry blog that is co-authored by a married couple, Makeesha and David.