more poetry

This is actually the Prayer of St. Francis of Assisi. I recently rediscovered it in, of all places, a Sarah McLachlan album. She sings a beautiful version of it.

Lord make me an instrument of your peace,
Where there is hatred let me sow love.
Where there is injury, pardon.
Where there is doubt, faith.
Where there is despair, hope.
Where there is darkness, light.
And where there is sadness, joy.

O divine master grant that I may
not so much seek to be consoled as to console;
to be understood as to understand;
To be loved as to love
For it is in giving that we receive-
it is in pardoning that we are pardoned.
And it's in dying that we are born to eternal life.
Amen

Spiritual Growth

Tonight was a meeting, at our home, for new lay leaders. At our church, Rev. Peg leads the service twice a month, and on the remaining two services per month we have guest speakers and lay leaders. The lay leader's job is to hold the service together, lead the unison affirmation, share opening words, lead the sharing of joys and sorrows, lead the congregation in prayer or meditative thought, etc.

I was asked to be a lay leader (along with two others), and tonight I received my training as such. It is a big responsibility, and one that I don't take lightly. I will lead my first service in about six weeks, and so I'll have to get to work on that.

This is a part of my spiritual growth. I have never truly belonged to a church before; I've attended, but I've never been a true member. My soul feels at peace with the church we have chosen, and with each day that passes I feel the fit even more. I know that I have a great deal to learn from Rev. Peg, for I believe that she is a wise woman and teacher.

I am embracing this, and I already feel the rewards.

But now I'm tired, and bed calls. Good night!

Another poem

This one was sent to me by Lori - thank you, Lori!

The Real Work

It may be that when we no longer know what to do
we have come to our real work,
and that when we no longer know which way to go
we have come to our real journey.
The mind that is not baffled is not employed.
The impeded stream is the one that sings.
- © Wendell Berry

Poetry

I am relaxing by sitting at the computer while Tessa plays; plus, I got a great break from cooking because I made way too much for dinner last night so Ryan got lunch today and Tessa and I got great leftovers (sweet and sour shrimp; a Cooking Light recipe that I tried out and am now in love with). Ryan's out with Paul, so it's just the two of us tonight.

I bumped into this poem and love it:

Everything is Waiting for You by David Whyte

http://www.woodmoorvillage.org/2008/04/everything-is-w.html

And now Tessa is going to watch a video (I keep screen time to a minimum, really I do!) and I am going to pick up the painting project that I left off. The Landahls are coming tomorrow and I'd just love it if the guest bathroom looked less peach. ;-)

Tomorrow I'll hardly be able to move after all fo this activity today!