Guárdame como a la niña de tus ojos;
escóndeme a la sombra de tus alas. Salmos 17:8
Bien se yo que lo futuro en su mano estaa: con desvelo permanente El me guiara; aunque en mi Camino encuentre pena y dolor, siempre tras de fuertes pruebas veo su favor. Himnos y Canticos del Evangelio
It is well that the future is in Your hand: with permanent vigilance You guide me; although in my Camino I will find sorrow and pain, always after hard tests I see His favor. Gospel Hymns and Chants
Well, this Daily Readings Devotional, produced for 281 years by the Moravian Church, gifted to me by a most delightful Desert parent is sure spot on as I stare at the Facebook post from my good friend and experienced cyclist: "let the sore butts, aching shoulders, screaming quads, and never ending road begin. But at least you two look marvelous. And it's not raining."
But it certainly dumped rain last night.
And the cautious wise words from Mary Anne, and seconded by my momma, "Christy I have a huge check in my spirit about your biking 50 miles a day I would like to ask you to ask the Lord how much you can do and to think of taking it slow in the beginning, including bus rides through the most arduous places and finishing well. I have many memories of your accidents back injuries leg injuries and other injuries etc. I think the Lord wants you to use your body well. You are not Nicole---please please please don't go at Nicole's pace ---go it God's pace."
And tucking this good counsel into my back pocket, I am comforted by their love and His hand. His gentle touch strengthens me, "Have I not proven faithful thus far?"
My quietly sitting reading that frames my view of the narrow, winding streets of Bordeaux, the blasting lightening storm over the cathedral and the square, and the delightful conversations with the CubanAmerican bus tour folks, and the odd little Airbnb couch surfing experience with lovely expresso and a wonderful shower, is a mixed bag of Fr. Richard Rohr, Madame Guyan, and Annie Dillard. We ARE taking way too many books on this journey but Nicole swears she loves weight on the bicycle.
And together their sweet chorus weaves together in joyous harmony, "Come closer, beloved child. Rest in Me. Abide."
Abide.
We sort of did a dumb American thing this afternoon, back and forth across the bridges with our packs that only weighed eight kilos apiece as we hefted into RyanAir yesterday, but in the humid late afternoon sun they weigh so much more.
Back and forth, until at last we found an open bus station, any bus station, and a nice Portuguese woman explained to us that our tickets were for San Sebastián at four this morning. Of course. So she called number after number to all the other bus companies and at last beguiled someone into issuing us transfer tickets for two tomorrow morning in the park, but we must be there an hour early.
And Nicole is wandering looking for internet to tell Ander not to pick us up in half an hour, and I am in some techno bar with a padded bench stacked about with stuff, reading Everything Belongs: The Gift of Contemplative Prayer by Richard Rohr. "When we are nothing, we are in a fine position to receive everything from God," and I am so clearly invisible nothing right now, watching the lithe French sweep past. The most fun is watching the gorgeous bebes being wheeled about seamlessly from stroller to scooter to bicycle. Tossled in the sunlight and quite aware with round Everette eyes. Speaking of whom, I did go to a massive full square block librairie this morning to buy a book, Le Petite Chat, for her, while Nicole wordsmithed the last few bits of her book. Like I said, we have way too many books.
Richard reminds us that Jesus uses the image of a child to teach "beginner's mind." A child is one without ego identity to prove, project, or protect. They respond to what is, and not what should be or might be.
This moment has a fullness.
escóndeme a la sombra de tus alas. Salmos 17:8
Bien se yo que lo futuro en su mano estaa: con desvelo permanente El me guiara; aunque en mi Camino encuentre pena y dolor, siempre tras de fuertes pruebas veo su favor. Himnos y Canticos del Evangelio
It is well that the future is in Your hand: with permanent vigilance You guide me; although in my Camino I will find sorrow and pain, always after hard tests I see His favor. Gospel Hymns and Chants
Well, this Daily Readings Devotional, produced for 281 years by the Moravian Church, gifted to me by a most delightful Desert parent is sure spot on as I stare at the Facebook post from my good friend and experienced cyclist: "let the sore butts, aching shoulders, screaming quads, and never ending road begin. But at least you two look marvelous. And it's not raining."
But it certainly dumped rain last night.
And the cautious wise words from Mary Anne, and seconded by my momma, "Christy I have a huge check in my spirit about your biking 50 miles a day I would like to ask you to ask the Lord how much you can do and to think of taking it slow in the beginning, including bus rides through the most arduous places and finishing well. I have many memories of your accidents back injuries leg injuries and other injuries etc. I think the Lord wants you to use your body well. You are not Nicole---please please please don't go at Nicole's pace ---go it God's pace."
And tucking this good counsel into my back pocket, I am comforted by their love and His hand. His gentle touch strengthens me, "Have I not proven faithful thus far?"
My quietly sitting reading that frames my view of the narrow, winding streets of Bordeaux, the blasting lightening storm over the cathedral and the square, and the delightful conversations with the CubanAmerican bus tour folks, and the odd little Airbnb couch surfing experience with lovely expresso and a wonderful shower, is a mixed bag of Fr. Richard Rohr, Madame Guyan, and Annie Dillard. We ARE taking way too many books on this journey but Nicole swears she loves weight on the bicycle.
And together their sweet chorus weaves together in joyous harmony, "Come closer, beloved child. Rest in Me. Abide."
Abide.
We sort of did a dumb American thing this afternoon, back and forth across the bridges with our packs that only weighed eight kilos apiece as we hefted into RyanAir yesterday, but in the humid late afternoon sun they weigh so much more.
Back and forth, until at last we found an open bus station, any bus station, and a nice Portuguese woman explained to us that our tickets were for San Sebastián at four this morning. Of course. So she called number after number to all the other bus companies and at last beguiled someone into issuing us transfer tickets for two tomorrow morning in the park, but we must be there an hour early.
And Nicole is wandering looking for internet to tell Ander not to pick us up in half an hour, and I am in some techno bar with a padded bench stacked about with stuff, reading Everything Belongs: The Gift of Contemplative Prayer by Richard Rohr. "When we are nothing, we are in a fine position to receive everything from God," and I am so clearly invisible nothing right now, watching the lithe French sweep past. The most fun is watching the gorgeous bebes being wheeled about seamlessly from stroller to scooter to bicycle. Tossled in the sunlight and quite aware with round Everette eyes. Speaking of whom, I did go to a massive full square block librairie this morning to buy a book, Le Petite Chat, for her, while Nicole wordsmithed the last few bits of her book. Like I said, we have way too many books.
Richard reminds us that Jesus uses the image of a child to teach "beginner's mind." A child is one without ego identity to prove, project, or protect. They respond to what is, and not what should be or might be.
This moment has a fullness.
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