oh what a glorious day. reminds me of crowder lyrics.
heaven came down and glory filled my soul... he redeemed that song for me. i love those lyrics, but hated their sappy 70's captain and tennille sound. i especially love the 'yah, today' thrown in near the end. it reminds me that i am being made whole even today.
what a glorious day. what a wonderful day, today. glorious day.
liam got the kids on the bus and called in late for work. we fully enjoyed having no one home and spent the morning back in bed. he then made breakfast and we communed at the table too.
after he left for work i read this.
it reached deep into my soul and left me keening a loud sobbing cry. with no one home to hear me it was cathartic. god has been weaving the warp and the weft of my life together so magically lately. everything in rhythm and beauty.
after the sob i was moved with this great desire to be creative. we had just gone to ikea and while there i purchased some multicolored votive holders. i lit them all and played with the camera, i lit sandlewood incense and sat in silence watching the flames and the incense smoke rise to heaven. i remembered my cup meditation and went and retrieved it and saw again the weaving hands of god in this process.
emptiness is the thread he is using right now in the fabric of my life. i blogged before nywc (here) on emptiness and how i had finally figured out it was not hunger. i was given the image of my torso as a birdcage. it was one of those large, cavernous ones, empty and filled with cobwebs. when i looked down into myself i was able to see through the cage to the dark, scary path behind me. it was a forest, filled with dark trees and spying eyes. i did not realize then how god was going to use this metaphor to prepare me for he would be weaving into my future.
i will process the 24 hours of silence another time, but i drew this in the darkened prayer chapel as my cry to god to fill the dark void i had within.
the cry of my soul
i spent that 24 hours contemplating emptiness.
this week i returned to the cup of life by joyce rupp. on monday i did the day 3 meditation. it was about seeing yourself as an empty cup. this was easy for me to imagine myself as that cup, but as i journalled i realized that what i long for was not to be an empty cup, but a beautiful plate - that displays things - not holds them. i wanted to be noticed, beautiful and purposeful. not empty and common. i struggled with this image for a couple of days and even confessed it to liam. i told him i didn't want to be just another boring cup for god, i didn't want to be empty anymore. i wanted to be great, displaying his greatness, beautiful in my giftedness and much more show-offy for god than just some dumb mug.
today the meditation was on 'readiness to receive'. i had finally accepted the fact that no, i was not a plate, i was not created to be a plate, and god didn't need me to be a plate. i was a cup. receive? hmmm... ready? am i really ready to receive? to have that birdcage cleaned out and filled? the meditation began with this:
clay is molded into vessels, and because of the space where there is nothing, you can carry water. space is carved out from a wall, and because of the place where there is nothing, you can receive light. be empty, and you will remain full...i must be empty to be filled. i must be carved out to receive light. okay, you've got me. i want both of those things god. the prayer of one breath today was 'i am ready... i receive...'
i was surprised that i was then instructed to fill my cup with my favorite liquid. most of you know i am a coffee fiend and i had saved one cup in the pot to drink while i wrote. now i knew why. i poured my coffee and cried. i really didn't think that our cup would be filled until the end of the book. she instructs you to set that cup aside for the purpose of the meditations. i chose my favorite coffee cup. i will blog on the metaphor of the cup at a different time too.
i was struck by the depth of emotion the coffee brought to my soul. i don't know what i expected to be filled with, but the fact that it was coffee, warm, comforting, strong, aromatic, sensory, full-bodied, those were just some of the descriptions i wrote down to describe the filling. i am ready, i recieve.
i used to be the type of person who could not receive anything. even a compliment. i have gotten better in this area of my recovery, but i am still struggling with asking to receive. i just don't seem worthy, don't want to be a bother, have to admit my need, be vulnerable or set myself up for judgement.
i know this is a trust issue through and through. so father, i am ready, please ready me. i recieve, my hands are open, help me not to withdraw them or clench my fists when it's not exactly my way or exactly what i think i want or need. please.