Good Friday – April 14, 2006
“as a very shy and quiet child, I spent much of my time alone. There was something different about the time spent alone on Good Friday. It is where I discovered solitude. I learned reflection, without knowing it for what it was. These are not things that can be taught. It was a very early whisper of a call that I was not to realize until much later in life.
Today, I find my reflection and understanding of solitude to be different, but different only in its maturity. The reflective child remains... I doubt that will ever change. And I hope that somewhere, another child is touched by Good Friday, and feels a stirring within.”
Good Friday – April 6, 2007
I am conflicted. A year ago, I wrote, with conviction, about what Good Friday meant to me. Today, I am less clear about this, and my ever evolving spirituality. What remains unchanged is an understanding of reflection, solitude, and the need to remain connected to something greater. What has changed is how I now question some of my motivation and the events surrounding a spiritual awakening. Still… I know the power of a true spiritual connection and I keep the lines open, but there is a great silence. I also know that just because there is silence, it doesn’t mean that no one (or no One) is listening.
Good Friday – 2008, 2009… silence
Today – April 2, 2010
A very Good Friday to you. Whatever your belief, faith, philosophy, or conviction, I wish you a good day.
I am not writing to grieve for loss or to bemoan how life’s changes have led me far from a path that was very rich and rewarding. I am those changes. I am accountable. I am responsible.
Of this I am very glad, or dare I say, blessed… in spite of the changes and questioning of faith, I still observe Good Friday in my heart. I still set the day aside for solitude and reflection. The only difference this year from the previous two is that I am taking the time to write about it – something that has been very difficult and elusive of late.
I count my blessings in ways that, at one time, I never would have imagined possible. I grieve for losses that still surprise me. But, as always, there is balance. At times the balance is hard to see, but it is there nonetheless. I try to remember this every day. We may have many or few “things” but without hope, we have nothing.
My words are simple; my writing is pedestrian from lack of even attempting to put word to print. But that is not what is important to me today.
I think it best to allow silence to enter my day and just listen, without expectation, for what lives within.
“as a very shy and quiet child, I spent much of my time alone. There was something different about the time spent alone on Good Friday. It is where I discovered solitude. I learned reflection, without knowing it for what it was. These are not things that can be taught. It was a very early whisper of a call that I was not to realize until much later in life.
Today, I find my reflection and understanding of solitude to be different, but different only in its maturity. The reflective child remains... I doubt that will ever change. And I hope that somewhere, another child is touched by Good Friday, and feels a stirring within.”
Good Friday – April 6, 2007
I am conflicted. A year ago, I wrote, with conviction, about what Good Friday meant to me. Today, I am less clear about this, and my ever evolving spirituality. What remains unchanged is an understanding of reflection, solitude, and the need to remain connected to something greater. What has changed is how I now question some of my motivation and the events surrounding a spiritual awakening. Still… I know the power of a true spiritual connection and I keep the lines open, but there is a great silence. I also know that just because there is silence, it doesn’t mean that no one (or no One) is listening.
Good Friday – 2008, 2009… silence
Today – April 2, 2010
A very Good Friday to you. Whatever your belief, faith, philosophy, or conviction, I wish you a good day.
I am not writing to grieve for loss or to bemoan how life’s changes have led me far from a path that was very rich and rewarding. I am those changes. I am accountable. I am responsible.
Of this I am very glad, or dare I say, blessed… in spite of the changes and questioning of faith, I still observe Good Friday in my heart. I still set the day aside for solitude and reflection. The only difference this year from the previous two is that I am taking the time to write about it – something that has been very difficult and elusive of late.
I count my blessings in ways that, at one time, I never would have imagined possible. I grieve for losses that still surprise me. But, as always, there is balance. At times the balance is hard to see, but it is there nonetheless. I try to remember this every day. We may have many or few “things” but without hope, we have nothing.
My words are simple; my writing is pedestrian from lack of even attempting to put word to print. But that is not what is important to me today.
I think it best to allow silence to enter my day and just listen, without expectation, for what lives within.
3 comments:
I like listening to your inner voice too . . . thanks, as always, for sharing it with us from time to time.
It is good to read your reflections, Thom, especially as I am now surrounded on FB with old high school acquaintances, those who were born here and stayed in the Bible Belt, a place where there is little room for doubt, reflection, or silence.
You and I grew up in much different traditions. We were Sunday-only Methodists of the 50s, who went from the joy of Palm Sunday to the joy of Easter, with none of that mournful stuff of Holy Week in between. I only came to know that tradition when I was in the Lutheran church in the 80s. Now church is not a part of my life.
But I have to admit I miss some of the ritual, symbolism, and music. As you may remember, it was the Easter vigil service that was so meaningful to me, symbolizing that evening when the Disciples came out from their hiding, found each other, and gathered around a fire, full of despair, in that moment of not-knowing between Good Friday and Easter morning. What a powerful symbol that the Palm Sunday fronds were burned in that fire to make next year's Ash Wednesday ashes!
As with you, all of this now dwells within me, along with all the doubt that is grounded in human suffering. Right now, silence and reflection are difficult, because images of suffering crowd everything else out, but later, perhaps, it will be good to listen for that inner voice.
Seems to be a Good Friday to hear wisdom and reflections from you...any day is, really.
Love ya, Babe
Alli
Post a Comment