In You.......

...I have taken refuge...be my rock of refuge...a strong fortress to save me...for you are my rock and my fortress...free me from the trap that is set for me, for you are my refuge...be merciful to me, O LORD, for I am in distress... my times are in your hands...be strong and take heart, all you who hope in the LORD." 

Words from Psalm 31 that I prayed last night.

Books pile high all around me. Always ordering new ones while the list of just started or not finished continues to grow.

Tarrying around every edge of this landscape, my well worn interior path, are many ideas, many choices, many ways to navigate this life, my life, now.

And,

It seems to me, they arise from the unabashed premise that I can be in control of how I mature into my mid-60's life: I can call the shots. I can control my emotions. I can control my thinking. I can control my feelings. Just follow this formula and it'll all work beautifully and smoothly.

Instead, I've been nudged to return to the Psalms, to be in worship that speaks to my soul.

Today, the third Sunday of Lent, after we sang the responsorial refrain,

"If today you hear God's voice, harden not your hearts." 

Father David preached about the Samaritan woman encountering Jesus at the well

And,

I was swept into the all encompassing love of God that, quite frankly, doesn't come from any of the books piled around my life.

It seems to only come from worship, from being in community, from singing, from praying, from kneeling, from standing, from passing the peace.

It seems only to come from drinking the very water that is Jesus' life which only happens with movement, with listening, with speaking, with hearing, with sharing.

And,

As father David said, we know next to nothing about this very human woman, who appeared alone on that particular day at Jacob's well

To encounter Jesus. To encounter the Christ. To encounter God,

And,

I am very grateful for her courage to speak. 

Harden not my heart...Take refuge in the LORD...this covers it.

Amen.

Dear Fran,

I could feel it at the time. 

I thought I knew the value of it.

I knew it was a huge priority in my life.

But now, my dear friend, Mon Fran, that you are gone,

The hindsight that only death can impart is falling upon me.

God-imbued, Rarefied, Kairos-time was ours.

Continual caring and sharing over the years, on the phone, through email, at the table.

Defining spirits of presence and learning, of passion and faith, of wisdom and truth, of humor and love.

Within which we grew as women, we grew as servant leaders.

Continual gentle urging to create, to write, to share the interiors of our hearts, our souls, our lives.

One summer afternoon we, the three, sat outside at Cynthia's picnic table to make a name for ourselves, to find a word to describe, to inspire, to infuse our intention, our commitment to each other.

We called ourselves the Cephers --- the biblical Hebrew word for Writing.

Continual creative conversation over the decades, on the phone, through email, at the table.

I miss our times. I miss us.

Mon Fran, the spirit you brought to friendship, the commitment you held to sustaining our conversation, and the many ways you empowered us were gifts that will never be replicated.

You will never be replicated.

You were, and continue to be, a brilliant gem in God's big bag of grace.

Through the remaining length of my days the gift of your friendship will accompany me.

The meaning of your life will continue to unfold.

Your voice will continue to call me to put the words down --

                                   "Mon, Sher, what are you writing?"

LORD, Thank you for your servant, Fran.

Thank you for her spirit, her joy, her laugher, her creativity, her support, her inspiration.

Thank you that she is safely Home with you now.

Please take care of the rest of us who miss her very much.

And the people say Amen.

All the people say Amen.