The Hour of Illumination - Peace at Noon

War. Poverty. Illiteracy. Sex-trafficking. Addiction. Depression. Unemployment. Disease. To be true, much of our world is not at peace. And often I find myself overwhelmed by the weight it all. What can I do? Where do I put my energy? How might I lighten the load?

Lately I have been feeling especially overwhelmed.  I've been reading Ashley Judd's memoir, All That is Bitter and Sweet.  Her experiences in working with women caught in the cycle of poverty and forced prostitution and her own stories of childhood neglect and depression split my heart wide open.  My heart then wanders to the orphans in the world and then to my friends who are struggling as single moms and then to my "neighbors" living in Reading, so many dealing with unemployment, poverty, drugs.  Where is the peace?

Then yesterday I stopped at one of my favorite places of tranquility, the Jesuit Center only fifteen minutes from my home, for a Midday prayer.  Macrina Wiederkehr calls the Midday pause the "Hour of Illumination" and notes that its themes are commitment, passion, faithfulness, and peace.  As I wandered through the grove with its tall trees and little statues, I came upon a leafy canopy of green hovering above three benches and a brick patio.  A Crucifix was hanging at the far end of this little hideout, and I sat myself beneath the one who is known as the Prince of Peace.  I opened my prayer book and read this prayer:


"In this the hour of the noonday sun,
we raise our hands to the Peaceful One.
This is the hour to pray for peace,
for kindness and compassion to increase.

So let this be the hour of release.
Let us bow to each other and pray for peace.
Let this be our promise. Let this be our song.
We will be the peace for which we long.

Before we share our noonday meal,
our deepest hungers let us feel.
This is the hour for peace to flower.

Let us be the peace, Let us be the peace."

~Macrina Wiederkehr 

Seven Sacred Pauses, pp. 101-102

Yes, I long to be a part of the Peace.  I am quite aware that each soul can either add or take away good to the world.  How fitting it was that I was sitting beneath the Prince of Peace during this prayer.  I allowed him to be my teacher as I began to meditate on how Jesus lived Peace while walking on earth.  These were my thoughts:

He sought peace (stealing away for inner-peace with his Father).
He taught peace (to those within his influence).
And he walked peace (in dealing with his enemies).
It struck me then; Jesus never forced peace.  For how can peace be forced?

So this is the example I seek to follow.  As much as I or anyone would love to wave a magical wand over all of the heartache in the world, Peace does not behave magically.  It begins as a small seed in the soul and it grows into a fragrant flower for the world.  Perhaps all I can do is continue to seek inner-Peace with the God of Love; I can also try to teach peace within my influence (mostly to my children right now); and I can walk the walk of peace (in my relationships, in my community, and in the world) as best as I am able today.

Sometimes that walk of peace means not acting in frustration when I am feeling frustrated.  Sometimes it is advocating for the poor and oppressed.  Sometimes it is holding an area of the world in my heart with compassion and hope.  Sometimes it is being a peaceful presence amid a friend's storm. And sometimes it is walking the grounds of the Jesuit Center, allowing my own soul to find its way back to Peace again.

What does your walk of Peace look like?  At least for today?

Nine-Eleven... A Glo-burban Perspective

We all remember where we were that fateful day, ten years ago.  I was in a science class at Millersville University when I learned about the attack.  My professor soberly cancelled class.  I then gathered with two students I knew, and we prayed.  I don't remember what we said.  From there I wandered to the cafeteria and watched the news with other students, all of us trying to wrap our minds around what was going on.  Jarred met me there (we were newlyweds as of 6 months and full-time students); we went home, confused, a little frightened, very sad.

This weekend, he and I relived that day by watching various documentaries about 9-11.  Much of the footage I had never seen before.  I heard stories of tragedy and heroism that I hadn't heard before either.  I cried as I listened to these inspiring and tragic stories, reminded of the fragile nature of life.

I also received a couple of forwards in my email inbox last week.  These forwards told me I should put a flag outside my front door to show my patriotism. One forward told me I should hate all of the countries who have not supported the US during this decade long war; it also told me that I should move to another country if I was an environmentalist who didn't want to drill for oil and that I should thank a soldier if I could read the email.  Finally, the email said I should forward this to ten friends in hopes of getting this to every American computer.

These messages assumed that proper patriotism and appropriate remembrance of the tragedy of the falling Trade Centers mandated flag-waving and finger-pointing. But I question if that really is true patriotism.  If that really is the response to ignorant, hateful acts of violence.

I read two blogs posts this morning that helped me put the tension between sorrow and anger into perspective.  In one reflection, Jim Wallis noted how the original response to 9-11 created a sense of vulnerability and dependence and care for one another, pieces of beauty and hope arising from the ashes of evil.  Yet too quickly, it was replaced by a call for revenge which has brought with it more hate, racism, devastation, and the loss of thousands more innocent lives. In a second reflection, Stefan Waligur wonders if the last ten years would have been different had we given ourselves more "soul" time, time to refect on the causes of the terrorist attacks, of peaceful solutions, of bridge-building.


If we assume that mankind has a right to survive then we must find an alternative to war and destruction. Don't ever let anyone pull you so low as to hate them. We must use the weapon of love. We must have the compassion and understanding for those who hate us. We must realize so many people are taught to hate us that they are not totally responsible for their hate. But we stand in life at midnight; we are always on the threshold of a new dawn. 

Martin Luther King Jr.  in his  speech, "Pilgrimage of Non-Violence" (1958)

Perhaps true patriotism is not following your nation's flag blindly; perhaps it means questioning it, even challenging it at times.  Perhaps true patriotism means looking beyond any flag for peace in the world.  What does true patriotism mean to you?

The Blessing Hour - Mid-morning

"Sacred is the pause that draws us into stillness. Nourishing are the moments when we step away from busyness. Teach us the wisdom of pausing. Reveal to us the goodness of stopping to breathe."  


Last week I wrote a post about a little book which has helped to teach me the importance of pausing throughout the day. After the awakening hour, my second most favorite "hour" or pause, when I am home and able to honor it, is the Mid-morning Blessing Hour. It is the time of the day when I am encouraged to step away from the kitchen or my computer and reflect on the sacredness of the day's work. Or better put in Macrina Wiederkehr's words:

"When I have the wisdom to step away from work momentarily, I am able to see it as a gift for the entire world. A short, refreshing pause can enhance my growing awareness that all work has the potential of becoming love made visible--a blessing."


I love this perspective of work, "love made visible." How often do we look at work as drudgery, whether it be preparing a meal, doing laundry, teaching, throwing hammers, treating patients, cleaning up messes, or working at the office? I know I've often been guilty of resenting work, rushing through it or simply enduring it, in anticipation of getting to the things I really want to do. But I am learning that work can be sacred when seen as an act of love.

"Bring to our memory the truth that we are the temple out of which you pour your gifts into the world. We are the temple from which you sing your songs. We are the temple out of which you bless."


And so chopping vegetables and mashing potatoes is no longer just "meal prep," but a loving gesture of feeding my family nutritious, delicious food. And doing laundry is a time to be grateful for modern technology that helps me keep my children clean and smelling good. Teaching not only means checklists and counting days until the next holiday; it is a sacred act of seeking the potential for growth in students. Throwing hammers builds and fixes safe, secure shelter for people. Treating patients is a sacred act of giving health and hope. Cleaning messes is serving those who may not be able to take care of themselves. And doing one's best at the office helps to serve a larger community.

"Bless the work that awaits us. Anoint our hands, hearts, and minds as we joyfully enter into the heart of this day. Make our spirits lucid, attentive, and open to all that can be."


Finally, I love the reminder that work is not only something we do with our hands. There are days where my hands are busy with sacred work.  But there are times when my mind and heart need to be at work, which may mean putting aside some of the "hand work." May we not underestimate this sort of work, which may mean reading or journaling in order to expand our limited thinking or taking the time to embrace our spouse or children for a longer moment as the heart works to communicate love or listening deeply to a friend who needs a shoulder to lean on. I even think that writing this blog can be sacred work, as my mind, heart, and hands unite in an effort to inspire.

And so perhaps we all, no matter where our place of work or what our work entails, today can offer this prayer:

"Lovingly behold the work that my hands, heart, and mind have achieved thus far. Receive it as part of my morning prayer."


Note: All quotations are taken from Seven Sacred Pauses by Macrina Wiederkehr.

Fair Trade Friday - Bead for Life!

What do you get when you mix old magazines, Ugandan women, and style?  Well, you get beads, of course!  And not just any old beads... bright, colorful, handmade beads made from recycled paper.  And the best part about these beads?  They are fair-traded!  

I was first introduced to these beads two years ago through a friend's sister.  They were just too cool to pass up. My friend Jenny and I decided to host a Bead for Life party.  So we booked a party in late fall, perfectly planned for Christmas-shoppers, set up shop in my home, and boy, did those beads sell!  We invited our suburban girl friends, and they helped us raise over $1000.00 for Ugandan women artisans by buying jewelry for their moms, their sisters, their friends, and their kids' teachers! 

It was the coolest home-party I had ever attended (or hosted).  Instead of listening to a speech in the living room about the product, we let the jewelry and the women's printed-out stories do the selling while we gabbed and grabbed at snacks.  And 100% of the proceeds went back to the non-profit Bead for Life!

Bead for Life not only offers fair-pay, job training, and good working conditions to women in Uganda, a country where poverty and violence has left many women with little opportunities for survival, but the women are usually self-dependent entrepreneurs after only working with Bead for Life for 18 months.  Moreover, the revenue created by selling the jewelry at a fair-price to global customers, not only goes into the hands of these hard-working women, but into development programs that benefit their entire communities, such as vocational training, housing programs, school fees, and health initiatives.  

 So if you're feeling itchy to update your wardrobe (men, don't despair!  There are now even some products for you!), or if you are looking for an excuse to hang out with some friends, or if you just want to help make our world a little more fair for all to live in, consider hosting a Bead for Life party or shopping on their online store.  (FYI, I just learned now that Bead for Life has opened up a new market for Shea Butter soap and lip balms!)

I'd love to know if any of you have heard about Bead for Life or purchased any of their products.  Tell us about it!

You Dare Not Touch My Soul

I've been reading Ashley Judd's memoir, All That is Bitter and Sweet, and in it I have found somewhat of a kindred spirit. Having been a very sensitive child, Ashley grew up and took a real interest in the injustices of the world, especially during college when she joined various activist groups such as the NAACP and Amnesty International.  Ashley almost joined the Peace Corps before deciding to take a chance at an acting career.

Today Ashley travels all around the world as the YouthAIDS ambassador for Population Services International, raising public awareness for one of the most devastating human crises.  In her travels she has visited places like Cambodia where sex-trafficking is rampant.  She has sat, held, cried with, and listened to the stories of many women and children living in this unbelievable reality.  As I read these stories, I am overcome by the amazing grace that certain souls are given despite the most brutal and inhumane circumstances a life could possibly experience.

I wrote this in the voice of a girl whose voice has been taken away:

You can hit me
and hurt me
abuse me
and use me.


You can bend me
borrow me
break every bone.


You can kick me
and curse me
You can hate me
degrade me


But there is one thing you must leave alone.


You can strangle my neck
You can leave me a wreck
You can steal all my innocence
in your big, greedy hands


But there's one thing that you'll never own.


You can oppress me
suppress me
starve me
and chain me


But you cannot --
             you will not--
                            you dare not--
                                             touch my soul.

~A.L.G.   August 28th, 2011

Awakening Hour - Splendid Mornings

Isn't it a wonderful thing that there are mornings?  That every dark night ends with a dawn?  Much like storms, too.  The clear blue of this August sky and the still, crisp morning air make it difficult to remember that a hurricane just blew up the East Coast yesterday.  And yet, this is how life goes.

I bear witness to the dark nights and storms of those around me... a friend's painful divorce, the loss of another baby in utero, the crippling brought on by addiction, an unwanted diagnosis.  Some nights are so dark,  not even the moon or the stars can be seen; there is no light to brighten the way.  And yet... there comes the morning.

About a year ago, a friend gave me a little book called Seven Sacred Pauses.  It is written by Benedictine nun, author, and retreat guide, Macrina Wiederkehr, and with the risk of sounding cliche', it has changed my life.  Not in a huge, "a-ha!" sort of way.  But in an altering of routine sort of way.

The seven sacred hours that Macrina practices and invites me to do as well, are adopted from St. Benedict, the founder of western Monasticism, who established a patterned life of prayer and scripture-reading throughout certain hours of the day.  Many monastic communities still follow the Liturgy of the Hours, in one form or another.  But the roots of this practice go back even further in history, to the early Christian Church, and back to the Israelite Nation in the Old Testament, who prayed three times a day.

Macrina's little book is filled with poetry, prayers, Psalms, and quotes, and I have begun to adopt them into my daily routine as well.  I find when I take a few minutes, a "sacred pause," in the middle of my hurried days to mediate, I become re-centered.  I am reminded of my purpose or of the fact that I am loved or of the suffering of those walking through a dark night.

And so I wish to share my mediation on the Awakening Hour, the Morning Prayer (or Lauds),  It's themes are of praise, resurrection, and joy.  I find this very fitting, because sunrise reflects the attitude of the soul when it is coming out of a long, dark night.  It symbolizes that joy and hope can be found even after walking through the darkest, lonliest season of life.


As much as I have witnessed dark nights of the soul in my life or in another's, I have also witnessed the rising of light, of joy, of renewed energy and vision, purpose and healing.  I have laughed many times with my friend who was left by her husband with a broken heart.  I have noticed the resilience in another dear friend who is planning meals for a new mother, only days after a second miscarriage.  I have seen hope and strength resurface in a loved one fighting addiction.  And I have seen contentment engulf the one living with disease.


Ah, yes.  In the words of Anne of Green Gables, "Isn't it a splendid thing that there are mornings?"

Fair Trade Friday - Lunch Boxes

So it's back-to-school-shopping-time!  Last week, the kids and I took care of important business... hair cuts and new shoes.  While shopping at Old Navy, we came across some really cute, inexpensive backpacks with matching lunch boxes.  I hadn't yet decided if we were going to buy the kids new backpacks; after all, their Target-bought backpacks had held up pretty well last year.  Plus, I don't think it is necessary to buy a new backpack and lunch box every school year.  That wouldn't be kind to our wallets or to our earth or to the values of living simply that we are wanting to convey.  But they were so cute!  And the sale price!  Only $7 for the backpacks and $4 for the lunch box!  I caved.  Jaida quickly found the pattern she liked while Dylan declined (the boys' patterns were sort of boring).

Then we came home, and I showed the purchases to Jarred.  We discussed the back pack dilemma and decided our kids could use last year's backpacks another year.  Plus, I admitted, these Old Navy bags seemed cheaply made.  One backpack's strap was hanging on by three threads on the rack at Old Navy.  And above that, like most of the clothes we wear, how in the world could the makers of these bags in Vietnam be making a livable wage?  If Old Navy can afford to sell the bags so cheaply after paying all of their overhead and the cost of transporting them across the globe, they must have bought these bags for next-to-nothing from the Vietnamese manufacturer.


So I am planning to return the backpack and lunch box, much to my daughter's dismay.  However, the kids are still in need of lunch boxes.  (You can only spill milk and yogurt into a lunch box so many times, before its stench turns the stomach of its user.)  I decided to jump online to see if there aren't any eco-friendly or fair-traded lunch boxes out there.  Turns out there are many to choose from!  This was one of my favorites...

Photo Credit: Bazura.Biz

Aren't they cute?  They are called Bazura bags, and they are made by a women's co-op in the Philippines, using juice bags which otherwise would have been thrown by the wayside.  This is a brilliant concept as literally thousands of these juice bags are consumed daily in the Philippines.  But now this waste is being converted into a profitable business for women entrepreneurs.

Photo Credit: Bazura.Biz

Unlike many women living in developing countries who often work long hours in the fields or in sweat shops, these women work for themselves in fair conditions, contribute to their communities, and are part of a solution to reduce the trash in their country.

You must check out their other items, too--handbags, grocery bags, coin purses, and lots more!  Go to www.bazurabags.com 

Photo Credit: Bazura.Biz