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UFP Creating a vital liberal religious community for Peterborough and the Kawarthas (Ontario)
Umbramatic "No temptation has seized you except what is common to man. And God is faithful; He will not let you be tempted beyond what you can bear. But when you are tempted, He will also provide a way out so that you can stand up under it." — 1 Corinthians 10:13 (NIV),
Val “In seed time learn, in harvest teach, in winter enjoy.” ~ William Blake **** “But like of each thing that in season grows.” ~ William Shakespeare **** “For him in vain the envious seasons roll, Who bears eternal summer in his soul.” ~ Oliver Wendell Holmes
vic "The soul cannot be confined within man-made boundaries. Its nationality is Spirit; its country is Omnipresence" --PY
VictoriaPhi "The fear of the Lord is the beginning of wisdom; and the knowledge of the holy is understanding." Proverbs 9: 10.
Victorino "There was never a time when I did not exist nor you. Nor will be any future where we cease to be"
Vincel What If God Could Speak? Would he whisper to my ear in the middle of the night? Would it seep to my conscience and manifest as a dream? Or would he accompany my morning ritual of coffee and paper? Sometimes, I take God for granted, only to ask him something when I need divine guidance. I have days where I beg him to speak. Real words…English words even. As if I could take my blind faith no more: as if without a sign of miracle his existence would vanish; I can see him now, less divine and more like a character from a George Burns film, or Morgan Freeman even…Is that what it takes, a miracle? Let me imagine for a moment that I can remember a miracle, the miracle of birth, my own birth. The warmth of fluids in my mother’s belly; the sound of her voice, like hearing through another room, otherworldly; the pressure of Dad’s hand cupping her tummy, my baby-fisted response to poke out to say “I’m here”. The delivery: Sharps Hospital, San Diego, the spring of 63. The sounds of mother’s pain, it would not be the last, pushing…pushing… pushing me through her cannel to birth, all of that pressure on my head, someone touching my feet, it tickles, it’s cold, the pressure slowly passing my body and head as I become encapsulated by my new world and experience my first breath of air, the voices, clearer now, but distinctly Mother’s above the rest, and then my first taste of mother’s milk. All of this makes me wonder…Is something less miraculous if it happens all the time? It shouldn’t be…Right? I mean…I get it, OK? A lot of people say that the world around us is a miracle. But what would it be like to live every breathing second of my life as if it were a miracle…Is it even possible? I mean…I have a wife and kids and a dog and church and a job and bills and Boy Scouts and Brownies and Little League practice and soccer practice and HOA meetings and work travel to: WA-OR-UT-KS-NE-WY-CO-ID-ND-SD-MT and extended family and daily vitamins and driving and volunteering and golf and date night and a variety of additional things that would cover several pages…And it still begs the question: Is it even possible to live each and every second cognizant of God’s miracle? Is it possible that God is really demonstrating his miracle on me every second of my day unnoticed by my ignorance? Every molecule of air that I breath, every blade of grass, cloud, particle, pine needle, leaf, living-breathing thing is all part of God’s miracle. Are my humanly receptors so desensitized from years upon years of miracle activity that all of His miracles are mundane? I pray to you now…God…I know you are with me…Right? I know you hear me…Right? I know even your most faithful had doubts at the supper…Right? Mother Teresa had doubts…so it seems…Right? Part of your glory is allowing me to make my choice…Right? To be forgiven and forgive, to follow light, to inhale air, to make my own mistakes, to give and be giving, to serve, to be the husband, the father, the friend, the human being that I have been so miraculously designed to be and to be it in my fullest. So where does this leave me now on my Sunday morning reflection? Has it become an Ode to God? Or, is it less divine and more about me, just simply another one of my self-absorbed, confessionals? As I sit in the office of my house looking due-west, out the window I see the Olympics. And there, across the street are a few acres of undeveloped land, a buck stops, startled, to look towards my house. Too steep to build on in Washington I’m told.
Published October 11, 2010