a prophetic voice-

So...how does one stand up for what she believes while at the same time keep from sliding into an us-them mentality? How live as a person of principle while still holding those of different mind and heart with compassion? How speak from a place of deep inner truth and conviction without demeaning or denigrating those whose truth is different? How live as a person of faith in the indwelling God in every person while still recognizing and acknowledging differences? How do I- one small individual in this little corner of the world- affirm and celebrate my connctedness- and heal my disconnectedness- with the rest of humanity? And can I- should I - be content to leave the healing of the world's hurts in the hands of God? or are those hands quite simply my hands?

“When, in the course of human events, it becomes necessary…” These opening words from the Declaration of Independence have been bouncing around in my mind for the past several weeks, as I have watched and listened to the many voices speaking about the proposed Amendment One here in North Carolina. On the ballot for the May 8 th primary, and already being voted on by those taking advantage of early voting, this highly controversial issue is calling forth commentary by people of faith of every stripe. And so, though I have been commenting on Facebook and encouraging folks to view some excellent videos produced by People of Faith Opposing Amendment One, the cacophony in my head demands that I speak out more forcefully. For you see, those in favor of this unnecessary amendment have been using tactics which are both unfair and untruthful. There- I said it. Calling this the “Defense of Marriage Act” is a misleading and downright dishonest misnomer. After all, there is already a law

After chilly days and bone-chilling nights, spring is returning to Carolina once again. In fact, I ate a late lunch on my backyard deck today, immersed in and reveling in the sunshine, the birdsong, and the delicate chorus of windchimes. The patterns made by the tree branches swaying in the breeze was almost hypnotic and I found myself soothed by their leafy rustle. How totally amazing just to sit and BE...to let myself be bathed in the healing balm of the natural world. As much as I love people- and I do, my friends, I do- there are just moments when the lack of people, of voices, of words, feeds my spirit in the way it most needs. And now I've moved to the front screened porch, serenaded by yet other windchimes and by the enticing, enchanting whisper of the breeze which murmurs continuously this afternoon, speaking of love and hope and promise...speaking of the wonder and goodness of life...offering the gift of another holy day to this often-weary pilgrim. Oh, and doesn't

Sometimes blue is lovely and joyful and filled with sunlight. At other times, however, it is sad and shedding tears of loneliness and sorrow. Today is one of those "blue" days...but it will be better tomorrow...I think. blue tuesday I am so tired of trying Weary of seeking and searching      and welcoming the inner jagged      landscape of my heart So tired of bearing Heavy burdens of my own      and others who assume my collar      invites their confession I long for rest For respite from the care and toil      of going it alone for      nearly twenty years How did I get to this place Which I do not recognize      and reconcile its strangeness      with the fact it is my life

There it was...right in front of me in the Sunday paper...an Associated Press article entitled "Gray hair's in fashion, but what about at work?" A lovely photo of Helen Mirren with her beautiful gray hair topped the article, with the first few paragraphs talking about more women becoming "gray panthers" by going back to their original gray rather than continue to dye- pardon me, color their locks. Now, for me, this is a no-brainer. One look at my photo on this blog tells my story. Oh, I went through some "coloring" of my own back in my lates thirties, as more and more of my hair was graying (I began getting gray in my twenties, a family thing). But by forty, I decided that the gray was who I was...and I have been gray (or silver or white- you choose) ever since. Lots of my friends are, too... beautifully, proudly so, I might add. But this newspaper article went further than the opening paragraphs extolling the number of celebs going gray to talk a

Once upon a time, one early Sunday morning,   three women were making their way     along the winding path through a beautiful garden.       Flowers bloomed everywhere, the grass was fragrant with dew,         and birdsong heralded the rising sun. But the three friends heard nothing,   saw none of the beauty around them.     Their downcast eyes were clouded with tears as they moved        silently on their mission of love- to anoint and properly prepare         for burial the body of their dear friend, their teacher,           their Master. He had been crucified on Friday, the day of the Passover-   had died this hideous, brutal Roman death reserved     for criminals and slaves.       And because the eve of the Sabbath had been upon them,         they had been unable to perform the ritual preparations           for burial proscribed by their Jewish religion.             And so they had risen early on this first day of the week               in order to visit the tomb a

Brilliant sunlight floods my room bursting through the shutters limning strips of light across the rainbow stripes of my quilt At my elbow the radio emits strains of a Mahler quartet as I savor the last delectable drops of my morning cocoa Breath flows blessedly through a throat made raw by harsh coughing though now less frequent less chest-wracking more free Holy Saturday- but isn't every Saturday every day of life holy? filled as it is with momets of light and music cocoa and blessed breath?

i give lie to loneliness... i give lie to loneliness for there is a longing still for a heart's companion to hold my tender heart with compassionate love as gently as cradling a robin's egg to cherish both my beautiful and ugly selves to have and hold my aging, aching body at the end of a long, difficult day to bear a share of life's burdensome sorrows and when i deny this ephemeral yet deeply real dream i give lie to loneliness... inner healing... i confess i shy away from those i perceive as too needy...those who seem to flatter and adore only to reach out grasping claws to snatch and tear my flesh seeking answers i cannot give, do not have, in their vain attempt to escape seeking answers deep within themselves- which would mean rending their own flesh, permitting their own hearts to break open so healing could happen from within.

other beatitudes... Blessed are the elderly,      for they shall know the satisfaction of a life well-lived. Blessed are the young at heart,      for they will live always in expectation and surprise. Blessed are the heavy of heart,      for they will be givn the comfort of sharing their burden with others. Blessed are the sightless,      for they will be gifted with inner vision to see life honestly and completely. morning prayer... Be with me today, O Holy One. Be with me and help me to slow     my steps, my heart, my monkey mind. Remind me that life is lived     one moment at a time,     one breath at a time,     one encounter at a time. And when I begin to get frantic     over all that remains to be done,     fill me with the certain remembrance          of your ever-presence,          as near as my breath,              your loving, compassionate voice              whispering in my ear,                    "It doesn't all depand on you." To which I ca