THE HOLY SEASON - DAY 2

 

Palm Sunday



Rejoice greatly, O Daughter of Zion!  Shout, Daughter of Jerusalem!  See, your king comes to you, righteous and having salvation, gentle and riding on a donkey, on a colt, the fool of a donkey.

                                                    Zechariah 9:9 (NIV)

                

 

 

 

These words from the Old Testament paint a vivid picture.  Can you see and smell the dust raised by the hooves of the donkey bearing our Lord?  Do you hear the shouts of "Hosanna!" and the laughter of children running alongside the road during Jesus' journey to Jerusalem?

 

 

We too can begin Holy Week with shouts of joy, despite knowing that his celebrated entry into Jerusalem was leading him to the cross.  For we know the "rest of the story":  this gentle king, righteous and humble, brought salvation to the world.  Incredible yet true--the Divine Son of God was willing to pay any price to come for us!  Rejoice!

 

 

Prayer

 

Loving God,

 

Teach us to be courageous enough to follow wherever you lead us, yet gentle like your son.  Thank you for coming to us through Jesus, and now through your Holy Spirit.  Help us follow his example and counsel as we continue to learn about courage, gentleness, humility, hope beyond this world, and love beyond limit. 

                                                                                   Amen

 

 

The story of Jesus' entry into Jerusalem is told in Matthew 21:1-11.

 

 

 

 

 

 

--bb



THE HOLY SEASON - DAY 1

                                  
I appreciate this tradition from the Orthodox Church.  Perhaps you will, too. 
                                                                                                                                    --Bonnie B.


    
                                                                                                 Lazarus Saturday                                                         
                                                                    
(The Saturday preceding Palm or Branch Sunday)

By raising Lazarus from the dead before Thy passion Thou didst confirm the universal resurrection, O Christ God!  Like the children with the branches of victory, we cry out to Thee, O Vanquisher of Death:  Hosanna in the highest!  Blessed is he that comes in the name of the Lord! (Troparion)

Christ--the Joy, the Truth and the Light of All, the Life of the world and its Resurrection--has appeared in his goodness to those on earth.  (Kontakion)


Lazarus Saturday was once among the few great baptismal days in the Orthodox Church Year.  Because of the resurrection of Lazarus from the dead, Christ was hailed by the masses as the long-expected Messiah--King of Israel. 

From the website of the Orthodox Church in America, OCA.org

(The Bible's 11th chapter of John tells the entire story of Lazarus.) 
 

 Tomorrow:  The Holy Season - Day 2, Palm Sunday

 

FIRST DAY OF SPRING- a photo album

 

Picture It

The fog was piled into opaque, fluffy blankets covering the low areas. 

I drove alongside and across the flood diversion canal known as The Big Ditch. The fog lay in the bottom of the Ditch, looking like cotton candy.  The sun was streaking the eastern sky with orange and lemon colors. I had my camera and was a bit frustrated that there was nowhere to stop. The traffic was picking up.  

Most of the fog had dissipated by the time I completed my errand and drove through the entrance to Sedgwick County Park.  The morning was still gorgeous, even more so next to the water with life all around.  

I can't think of a more joyful way to experience the first morning of Spring 2015.

 

                                                                             All photos by Bonnie Hamilton Beuning  copyright March 20, 2015

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Finally, I took the highway home, still enjoying the beauty that lay ahead.

 

May your springtime be breathtaking, wherever you are! 

Blessings!     bb

Expectations

 

Many of us have some wacky, pseudo expectations such as expecting rain after we wash the car or when we plan a picnic, or bad luck if we walk beneath a ladder. Fun, but this isn't about that.

At night when I fall asleep, I expect to awaken in the morning.  It hasn't always been so, nor will it always be.

I expect stars to burn in the night sky. (I expect them to burn in our daytime sky as well, but seldom think of it!)  I expect clouds may gather and interfere with my view, but not with the existence and presence of stars.  I expect clouds to eventually move on.

In so many circumstances, I expect great sorrow to come as inevitably as the seasons.

Elation. Happiness. Ah, these keep me balanced.  They come more as surprise than expectation. I do expect surprises of all sorts, though try not to navigate my life's course by  them.

Joy. This is something I've grown to know. More than an expectation, Joy IS. It's inner presence is so astonishing, I'm almost timid about claiming it will always remain with me.

Of course I could go on and on. My expectation is that I'd become tiresome, if not irrelevant.

                

 

 

                                                                         photo Bonnie Hamilton Beuning 2014 

Upon awakening

Morning topics come to me unplanned, from somewhere, anywhere. I welcome most of them and join in on the conversation already begun in my head.

Stirring my morning brain today (despite the extreme beauty of the sunshine streaming into the bedroom) were the tears, or worse, the blank expressions of oppressed women of the world, emotionally and often physically abused.

     Do they have expectations?

     Are they devoid of hope? 

     How can Hope and Expectation feel the same?

     How do they differ, and how might one effect the other?

     In the worst case scenarios, do the abused, neglected, oppressed lose the ability to
experience disappointment?  

     In the worst, worst case scenario, does one have even a memory of being     disappointed? Or did early disappointments soon become expectations?

     To be disappointed!  Is that ability a blessing in the sense of reminding us we haven't yet  lost hope?

Well, I'm sorry if I've brought you with me on a path too grim. It led to a scene vastly populated with children and men as well as women. I simply followed the path.

I'll close without giving my considered answers to the questions above.  Your answers, if you choose to meditate on these things, will likely outshine my own

This amazing Kansas day on the cusp of spring has dawned on a good and easy life for me. I'm so thankful! I'm drawn to pray specifically for the oppressed, abused, and neglected today. Even the grim path can lead to good things.

 

                                                                             photo Bonnie Hamilton Beuning
bb

The Eye and the Heart of the Beholder

 

Beauty

 

 

 

This first photograph below is accompanied by the photographer's haiku, both of which I love! The picture speaks to me of the splendor of so many of our winter days, illuminated by that magical light cast by the southern arc of the sun.. Some of our most brilliant sunrises and fieriest sunsets occur in the wintertime. In late afternoon, the exposed white skin of the sycamore trees and cottonwoods glows against the backdrop of a sapphire sky.  On clear nights, the stars are worth the show for those willing to brave the cold night air to gaze upon them.  I find the composition and colors of this photo quite striking.

 

 

                       

photo and haiku by Glenn Gunnels 2015

Evening Haiku



                                                      Will you walk with me

                                                      if I speak in whispered breaths

                                                      as warm as summer? 

                                                                                                       

 

The next photo is one that I took several days ago. It's a color shot, but looks almost black and white.  That's good, because I wanted to capture how color seems to drain away at  sunset in the winter when the entire sky is thick with clouds.  

 

 

 

                    

photo and poem by Bonnie Hamilton Beuning 2015 

 

The February trees are bare, offering no resistance to the chill wind.

No winter flowers grace this portion of the gardeners' "zone 6."
I'd hoped for the consolation of a starry, black sky tonight,
but no, all is grim and gray and cold.
I'm sure a television meteorologist is apologizing on the air, 
pretending to have created the weather without God. BB

 

 

I recognize the contrast between Glenn's engaging and lovely photo, and then mine, which at first glance (and maybe 2nd and 3rd as well!) seems to be more about the absence of beauty. But, I'm beginning to believe beauty dwells within every natural thing, sometimes all but hidden, yet still present in its design or movement, light, or shadow.

 

Undeniably, there are special places that stir us, comfort us, fill us with peace, and cause us to call them sacred. I wonder if the tangled and dark woods to which we're not drawn, could sometimes offer a holy refuge that our broken selves would connect with, possibly heal in...a wilderness overlooked due to our love of stars and grandeur.                                                     

 

Terry Hershey had this quote in his "Sabbath Moments" this week, and I liked it: 

        

 "Each of us possesses five fundamental, enthralling maps to the natural world:  sight, touch, taste, hearing, smell.  As we unravel the threads that bind us to nature, as denizens of data and artifice, amid crowds and clutter, we become miserly with these loyal and exquisite guides, we numb our sensory intelligence.  This failure of attention will make orphans of us all."     -- Ellen Meloy



 

[Thanks to Glenn Gunnels for permission to use his photo...I knew I wanted to post it, but had no idea what the blog would be about when I asked] 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Just Another Sacred Day

 

 

 

Ash Wednesday.  It was good. 

 

In the morning, I was heard, informed, encouraged, and supported at a supervision meeting with my Stephen Ministry group.

 

In the afternoon, I met with my spiritual director from whom I received affirmation and clarity on some issues often encountered in the growth process.

 

Midafternoon, after taking care of a couple of errands and tasks, I built a slow-burning fire in the fireplace.  I pulled a chair close to it, held my dog, and read a while. 

 

Ash Wednesday didn't beckon me to a church service this year, but I observed it in my own way at home. The ashes stayed among the burnt pieces of firewood and I felt fine with that.  

 

Here are some photos I took while thinking about the first day of Lent.

 

The sun was shining, and bathed everything in a simple light.

 

BB

  

 

       

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

I decided to change my profile picture on Facebook this morning. To do this, I scanned a picture, which is printed on a blank greeting card I bought years ago.  The picture, a reproduction of a painting by Lori Preusch, more than captured my imagination.  It illustrates something that I feel about my own sense of "being here." 

In it I somehow recognize the person I am, and see glimpses of my past, present, and possible future. It speaks to me of the region of our country where I was born and raised and now live. I see the overriding joy of my life journey, regardless of what I confront and gather along the way.

This is the beauty of art, isn't it?  As in nature, we can study it and connect with so many things. Learning to see with our hearts, I believe we can gain an understanding that's at a higher level than the reality we've constructed or had constructed for us. At times, though, we intuitively know that what we are seeing speaks to our innermost selves.

When I posted this image on Facebook, I received a response that surprised me.  A cousin  simply commented, "Embrace." (I'm assuming she read my last post.)

How strange that I never saw the essence of my word-of-the-year in this painting until she mentioned it!  But there it is.  Like the prairie dragon, I feel the word clinging to me, and I've come to be happy about carrying it, fire and all. 

May your life be a Spirit-filled quest, undeterred by the ways of the world. 
May you be of light heart and deep thoughts.
May we all become conscious of what we carry, and why, discarding that which serves no honorable purpose.

Till next time, I'm heading out into the wind with my hoop and ever-present dragon.  

Blessings,
bb

Note:  I temporarily removed the photo from my FB page until I received written permission from the author to use it, which she immediately gave. I don't know if that's required, but it seemed like the right thing to do.  (Thanks again, Lori.)

Look here for more of her work:    www.dandelionpress.com