bathing in dust

Mud bathing in the Dead Sea in 1996 was a sticky and rather odd experience but I still found it fun; milk bathing might have been a mark of high rank for Cleopatra and others but if the milk were a bit 'off' then 'rank' could be more about the smell than being the queen of all she surveyed!

But dust bathing?

I was out walking on New Year's Day - yesterday - and let my mind wander as you do at this time of the year. No longer do I make resolutions; nowadays life's more about  discerning what is mine to do among competing worthwhile options.  So my mind was open and present to what was around me, rather than what had been or what might or might not come to pass.

And then I noticed three sparrows 'dustering' and dappling in the warm dry sand near the beach path. I don't think it was too anthropomorphic to say that they seemed to be enjoying themselves as they nestled in little sparrow-shaped hollows, flapped and flung dust over their wings, dipped beak and head into the tiny grains until they spilled between feathers and brought cleansing in the absence of water, and relief from irritants. All this vigorous activity was capped off by patient preening until they were ready for whatever the rest of the day had to offer.

I was reminded of a time in 2006 when, on a desperate walk, I'd noticed a dove preening. My husband was in hospital about to have quadruple heart bypass  surgery - and the Spirit used the bird's meticulous and patient attention to its own needs to remind me that, in the midst of everyone doing their utmost for my beloved, it was important that I took the time to care for myself too.

In the 12 years between these two feathery reminders I've struggled to take good care of my self. So often the needs of others have taken precedence and I've pushed my own refreshment time to the bottom of the day's 'to do' list.  But now as I age, I realise I cannot do what I've always done, particularly in terms of quality of pastoral or personal presence, or in accessing that balanced state of creativity when ideas bubble up and words flow and the smallest thing can mediate the Christ.

And so it's time to 'bathe in the dust'.

For me that means prioritising  contemplative practice, anchoring the day in prayer, bidding the day goodnight with gratitude, being open to spiritual conversations [ and what conversation isn't fundamentally spiritual?],  resisting trying to second guess what's best for those I love, and saying 'no' more often. Others may find my choices difficult, but the sparrow's reminder is the Blessed Trinity's gift to me at the start of 2019 .

I know myself well enough to accept that some days the gift will linger on the shelf unopened, that there may be times when it even gathers dust, but I pray that grace will enable me to cherish my God-given true self more as the year unfolds and, as a result, whatever I do will truly be done in the name of Jesus.

What is God's gift to you at the start of this new year?

Searching

Searching 

Someone a couple of houses away is calling my name, but I'm not lost - I am hanging out the washing, appreciating the blue sky and birdsong after days of rain and wind.

The calling continues for my namesake - a missing puppy - her owner's increasingly anxious voice gradually receding  as her family spreads out and moves down to the stream and into the bush to search for their little brown bundle. I make  a quick prayer for her safe return and find my thoughts moving to the wider world where so many people are 'missing' - wrested from their loved ones and homes through no fault of their own ...  soon my prayers for help are added to those already being offered by countless others - little bursts of love-energy sent across the miles at the speed of light, to make a difference, however small.

I continue to hang out the washing.

Within the hour there is another search : our neighbour's young labrador has gone 'walkabout'  and isn't responding to his impressive,urgent whistle - and so I join in the search and we cover the likely places before the lanky pup is finally found with some new 'friends' a few houses away. We smile with relief!

We all know this lost/search/hopefully find scenario well.
We see it played out on our screens in countless dramas and even programmes searching for lost family members through DNA detective work!
We too have stories to tell of losing someone or something precious  -
We too have stories to tell of searching and hopefully finding.
But for some there is no resolution, only ongoing unknowing and the frustration of living with a question that may never be answered.

What loss or search or finding is part of your life at this present moment?

Are you calling out to someone you love, hoping against hope they will respond and come home?

Having two instances of losing and searching this morning made me think about God's continuous call to us through the natural world, through circumstances, through music and scripture and art and books and people and in structured and unstructured gatherings of faith communities.

God who is Love is committed to reclaiming our attention from the contemporary world's distractions of screens and stress and struggles.
Those arms into which the prodigal son [or daughter] runs in Luke 15 remain wide open to you and to me and a homecoming banquet is guaranteed!

Happy New Year