Food for the Soul | March 17th, 2021

3/17/2021 

Dear Friends,  

It’s a foggy morning as I write this. The fog outside envelopes everything and I can barely distinguish anything beyond the trees that line the street next to my house. But it is peaceful. (The photo is not from this morning, but another similar day.) In my heart there is fog too, and since I am not that unusual, I suspect in some of your hearts there is fog. I have been thinking about this. As more of us get vaccinated we yearn to exercise our newly gained freedom, or at least so we think. Yet there is resistance too. During the pandemic - mind you, it isn’t over yet – we may have developed new daily routines, possibly even a new Rule of Life. If these new guidelines worked for you there may be a strong wish to keep them even in post-pandemic times. But is it possible to maintain them in a reordered life? We don’t really know what that is going to look like. We all have an interior Light that will guide us through the fog; it is also called the True You, the Image of God, the Light of Christ. Focus on it and follow it. Be attentive to where it leads you.  

PRAYER 

You are above me, O God, 

you are within. 

You are in all things 

yet contained by no thing. 

Teach me to seek you in 

all that has life 

that I may see you as the  

Light of life. 

Teach me to search for  

you In my own depths 

that I may find you in  

every  living soul. 

 PRACTICE 

This may be a good time to reflect on how this year of quarantine has changed you. What difficulties have you run into? What new routines have you developed? Are they good for you? Have they helped you in finding the True You? Have you been able to let go of thoughts, words, and deeds that did not benefit you? How will you go forward? For some people it is important to write things down. You may want to try it. Journal about the state of your heart. 

And since today is St. Patrick’s Day, here is the well-known Gaelic blessing: 

May the road rise up to meet you. May the wind be always at your back. Ma the sun shine warm upon your face; the rains fall soft upon your fields and until we meet again, may God hold you in the palm of His Hand. 

POEM 

Afterwards 

• William Stafford 

Mostly you look back and say, “Well, OK. Things might have 

been different, sure, and it’s too bad, but look – 

things happen like that, and you did what you could.” 

You go back and pick up the pieces. There’s tomorrow. 

There’s that long bend in the river on the way 

home. Fluffy bursts of milkweed are floating 

through shafts of sunlight or disappearing where 

trees reach out from their deep dark roots. 

Maybe people have to go in and out of shadows 

till they learn that floating, that immensity 

waiting to receive whatever arrives with trust. 

Maybe somebody has to explore what happens 

when one of us wanders over near the edge 

and falls for awhile. Maybe it was your turn.