Greenblade - creation - faith - justice

greenblading: engaging the enemy

Living in a constant state of war, particularly one we see only in the headlines, saps the energy like a low-grade fever. Every day explosions kill, or maim, or destroy lives. Every day.

Every day we feel the jolt of pain, like a torturer's device. Every day we put the pain ... somewhere ... and we go on. Somewhere in our bodies our cells are cringing, abused, waiting for the next strike. Those who say the war is happening somewhere else are wrong. The war is happening in our bodies every day.

Today in her Almost Daily eMo from GeraniumFarm.org, Barbara Crafton says "Not for us, the prim refusal to engage the enemy in prayer. It is not for us to turn away -- we only compound the sum of the world's enmity if we do that."

Peace comes when the people at home - not the soldiers, not the ... MORE

Part II: The Voice of God

It is Easter Monday after a hard Lent. I had shown up for all the Sundays but I had walked through Holy Week alone, worn and weakened by various family pressures on all sides. That was a poor decision right there, as I should have known. I am fundamentally Anglican which, for me, means we do this together.

All the tension I had been trying to carry in a spiritually mature way (and I had been doing really well, I thought) culminated on Good Friday. No surprise there. It got so bad, all I could do was to pray that I would have an Easter. Naturally, I expected that Easter to come as a resolution to the stresses that were giving me trouble – breakthrough conversations, reconciliation, group hugs.

As I observed yesterday in Green Blade, Rising, help ALWAYS comes in a form we do not expect.

We were preparing ... MORE

Green Blade, Rising

Now the green blade rises from the buried grain,
wheat that in dark earth many days has lain,

We all share agricultural symbols, no matter where we live because we all live on the earth and eat food grown from the earth. Listening to the earth we know that things die. And yet, life returns.

In the grave they laid him, Love whom hate had slain,
thinking that never he would wake again.

Same thing. Only harder to believe.

Forth he came at Easter like the risen grain,
he that for three days in the grave had lain.

How long is three days? Is it as long as it takes for forgiveness? For healing?

When our hearts are wintry, grieving, or in pain,
thy touch can call us back to life again.

This ... MORE