I've wanted to write about this Giotto painting since the beginning of the month when I was so happy to discover it adorning the cover of "The Word among us," my daily readings.
I've lived with this beautiful image all year.
A little miniature rendition hangs over our kitchen sink.
And a larger framed print on the sofa table in the living room is the only memento left out from our 25th Anniversary vacation in Italy just last year...
I would remembered our trip to Assisi last summer everytime I'd pick up this little book to do my daily readings.
I would reflect on this wonderful, simple, holy man...this Saint...
Still so loved after 820 years...
Always trying to keep in my mind's eye that I too am called to "be holy...For I am Holy"...1 Peter 1:16
and Ephesians 1:4 "We should be holy and without blame before Him in Love."
You'd think I was a big girl by looking at me!
Well, maybe not at first sight, but I am a grown woman...after all!??!
I even have the grey hairs that attest to these 51 years I've lived.
But yet I am still such a child.
So at the mercy of all the influences, forces and voices of the world around me.
Usually I do a pretty good job of handling all the voices in my life, quieting them skillfully.
But there are five that will forever continue to echo in my ears.
I love coming 'home.'
I love going too, but no matter how far, or for how long, coming home is always sweet.
Psalm 121:8 Gives me great comfort, lets me know I am always close; always known to my protector and keeper.
The Lord shall preserve your going out and your coming in from this time forth and even forevermore.
I love being greeted by my little shells and stones.
non of which I would have if I never left my home...
I love that I give my droopy herbs a shot of water as we head off to bed after being gone for just two days and in the morning they are perky again.
just like being home rejuvinates my droopy self...
I love having just the right weight and warmth of blankets on our bed.
which I definitely would not apprectiate if I never left the comfort of our bed!
I love the delusion that I am somehow in control within the walls of 'home'.
I'm not!
I know...
like not having heat last week...
And the voices and influences still enter in here...
Yet somehow I can silence them within these walls...I recognize them.
The voice of Hollywood, that says you are no one unless you are someone
the runway voice, that says you must be tall and thin
the Madison Avenue voice, that says you need this, should look like this, buy this
the writer, photographer, artist, blogger, business owner, that says you should be more creative
These stand out as strangers when they appear within my well defined walls,
but out there....I feel less prepared...
They look like friends and family yet they are saying the same things...you should be more...
And I fall...again
I feel like not enough...
when I know who I am, I know where I have been found...I know where I abide and Who abides in me
And I know that is enough
2 Corinthians 10:16
do not boast in another man's sphere of accomplishment. But "he who glories, let him glory in the Lord."
But that strong self only seems able to be strong in my own quiet world...
The world I can silence by 'being still and knowing God'
and the only voices that echo in my ears in that stillness are those of my children...my husband
the times when I hear their plea...."don't......"
...whatever it is.
The motivation behind the mouthing of those words...
is when I know I have disappointed those who I care about the most.
Somehow I was not enough, I fell short...
I caused hurt in someone I love.
I need to correct something...in myself...
I know the community of Saints is probably kind as they see me struggle with holiness...
I know I am not letting the celebraties of the world down by my lowly existence... not even being on that radar!
I know no one cares that I am a foot too short and 35 pounds too heavy but me and my doctor...
I know I am not letting the art world or the blog world down....all 13 of my followers...by my poor writing, my lack of creativtiy...my less than perfect photos
I will continue to write because this is what I have done all my life...
I've journaled...not publicly, like this...if you call 13 public!
But my audience of 5 is my world.
The one thing that matters in my life.
and I hate to be anything less than perfect for them, but I know I am not...
and I also know where to go for the forgivenes I need for that lack!
thank goodness for that audience of One for when I do fall...
That One, who loves me no matter what.
The Sermon of Francis
Henry Wadsworth Longfellow
Up soared the lark into the air,
A shaft of song, a winged prayer,
As if a soul, released from pain,
were flying back to heaven again.
Saint Francis heard; it was to him
An emblem of the Seraphim;
The upward motion of the fire,
The light, the heat, the heart's desire.
Around Assisi's convent gate
The birds, God's poor who cannot wait,
From moor and merre and darksome wood
Came flocking for the dole of food.
"O brother birds," Saint Francis said,
"Ye come to me and ask for bread,
But not with bread alone today
Shall ye be fed and sent away.
"Ye shall be fed, ye happy birds,
With manna of celestial words;
Not mine, though mine they seem to be,
Not mine, though they be spoken through me.
"O doubly are ye bound to praise
The great Creator in your lays;
He giveth you your plumes of down,
Your crimson hoods, your cloaks of brown.
"He giveth you your wings to fly
And breathe a purer air on high,
And careth for you everywhere,
Who for yourselves so little care!"
With flutter of swift wings and songs
Together rose the feathered throngs,
And singing scattered far apart;
Deep peace was in Saint Francis' heart.
He knew not if the brotherhood
His homily had understood;
He only knew that to one ear
The meaning of his words was clear.
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