Memorial for Haiti

100114 09:50
I have been unfaithful to myself, wallowing in the pain of arthritis, ignoring the ongoing process/progress of ordinary life.
In all things we can celebrate sorrow and joy, each a part of ourselves becoming whole revealed as we are becoming complete.
In silence I approach the ideal-idea of what I want to write, the page a blank page describing eternity, vastly different from the frame of a photographic lens through which I first discovered the nearness of God in Haiti; so long ago and never forgotten.
I ask your prayers for them--and yourselves--since their poverty, long standing, is so like mine when last there and even now embraced; and ours without work, our world in flux. How else could Jesus enter in and be for me a friend walking the streets of Haiti then and now that so many are lifeless and hopeless--helpless?
The interval between the ideal and real is actually very small, more nearly a membrane, a sort of blindness--an illusion.
Live, love, dance and sing as though life is eternal while holding the truth of death in each day potential.
Well do I remember my helpless rage against the deaths of both children. Now reprised in the silence of the child of my heart adopted, now become an adult and a parent herself.
I feared, eventually, that my rage against God would be like that against all else, everything that I would destroy in revenge until I became fully aware that the reason could have been exclusively attributed to myself; the source of their disease and death. Humiliated with my rage, I could then no longer exorcise it against anyone or anything and in that helplessness were the seeds of what I am now sown.
In crisis, as inevitable change, I am at peace. But also filled with empathy for those who suffer so obviously in their experience of pain, death, disability and hopelessness. I give such as I can--and more so--but most of all I listen for clues given me, what they want and need.
We can be for them a small part the heart, eyes, sense and will of God for them and with grace for ourselves in this day--now where eternity begins anew. The gift of our prayers is this; we learn the wisdom of knowing what we can change, that which we cannot. And the serenity of knowing what is physics indwelling from the beginning of creation. What we can generously be, do and give towards healing the world and ourselves.
We learn to respond to reality and no longer be victims of fate or life; reactionary. Faith, hope and charity as love given defines our sense of being real.

Note--Please continue . . .
. . . I have been derelict during the past few days. Add to which I tend to post “from top down.” There is more below in chronological sequence, if you are interested, starting at the 8th of January this year.