There is this deep flurried, distraction feeling in my soul tonight. I just raced to the post office 21 inquiry letters rubber-banded in the passenger seat next to me, requests for Grant Applications from 21 different Foundations around the country. The sun was flushed with pink, but I could barely enjoy it.
Soulation is about to, hopefully, expand. We have hopes . . . like a travel budget to let us speak to the inviting parties that cannot cover our travel expenses, we hope to get more of our talks online for free, we hope to open our Soulation Retreat in the next 4 years, we hope to get the city permits and our neighbors permission, we hope to be able to pay our volunteers. A lot is determined by those letter that I popped into the mail slot, praying, "Spirit help us" as I saw them slip and disappear.
Thomas Merton says that hope empties our hands so that we might use them.
I feel Jesus' words in my life tonight, "Blessed are the meek, the poor in spirit" Why? Well the meek inherit the earth (a lovely thought when I think of the land we hope to cultivate for a cultural and spiritual center) and the poor in spirit? They get the kingdom of heaven.
I'd like nothing less.
My hands and mind have been very busy with hopeful projects this week. That dull, steady ache is growing in my temples. Today has been a very full Soulation day.
I feel empty and full of wondering. Not just about Soulation and our future plans, but about our country, about our first African-American president (something I'm pleased to be witnessing) who claims a more staunch pro-abortion record than any we've known. God give us protection to continue to be a culture that values life, regardless of the laws.
There is much work to be done, and yet much work is being done, all without my effort. His grace is poured out.
The sky was rosy tonight, and the corgis ran with abandon into the melting snow and my husband cuddled with me this morning luring me to stay longer in the warmth.
For chapstick and lemon verbena lotion
For a morning of writing
and Lady Victoria's brown eyes
For warm fires and hope to rest
For sealed and sent letters
and a door held open
and silk longjohns
For Dale's cup of tea
and a friends impromptu visit
For emails received
Lord, I give you thanks.
Now, can I inherit the earth soon?