Our Forest Is Burning

This week I would like to publish another poem by Scott Eagan, farmer and poet in residence at Madonna House, Combermere, Ontario, the community of prayer and service established by Servant of God Catherine Doherty.  His poem “Dry Lightning” was inspired by the recent Canadian wildfires, but as I’m sure you will see, the poem resonates with the fires that rage within.

“DRY LIGHTNING

The air is charged
overfull with heat and smoke and ash
our forest is burning
beast of a wildfire bearing down
torching the houses, the place where we live
we can only pray for rain.

Try as we may, no tears
it is all consuming, nothing left unscorched
flashes from heaven to earth
and from earth to heaven explode as they meet
thunder rolls round the heart
we watch, we wait, we run
while the flames rage in their course
and inside us, the rains pour.

©2016 Scott Eagan”

Guest Blogger: My Daughter's Stations of the Cross

I am so happy to share with you something that my 12-year-old daughter Siobhan wrote and shared with me.  It is hard to describe how I felt when I read these Stations of the Cross.  

Siobhan, I’m so proud to be your mom.

---

“I : CONDEMNED- JUDGE
Stand before the crowd for me
What have you to say for thee?
No sound, no word to save his name
To end his pain, to stop his fate
Although his heart is pure and clean
He is condemned to endless sleep

II : CARRY- SPECTATOR
I watch them weave a crown of thorns
Hustle, heckle taunt and scorn
I watch them load your back with weight
Bitterness crossed with twisted hate
I want to end their cruel advance
But I do not move when I have the chance

III : FALLING- SOLDIER
You stumble yet we push you down
You cry but we ignore the sound
No one helps you when you fall
No one makes a move at all
I cannot help but feel for you
But when you’re down I do not move

IV : MEETING- MOTHER
So alone you stumble forth
They do not know what you are worth
So now, now when you say to me
“Courage, woman, for this must be”
I truly know that I must believe
For by your cross we are redeemed

V : HELP- SIMON
They push and pull me toward the tree
The heavy burden meant for thee
They grow impatient tired of
Your slow progress or lack thereof
They snatch me off the streets of ill
So I help you against my will

VI : FACE- VERONICA
Alone again he struggles on
They will nail him to the tree anon
I don’t have anything to give
But I cannot yet leave him
My hands I have and my veil in place
So at least I can wash your face

VII : FALLING AGAIN- PETER
I see you fall this time on rock
I cannot bare to see them mock
I have denied you thrice today
But still I love you, still I pray
That you’ll forgive me for I was weak
As you set on humble and meek

VIII : CRY- WOMAN
As he stumbles toward us still
He is not drained of his good will
Though it’s I who should help thee
You reach out and comfort me
You’ve been abandoned by your friends
But still you love until the end

IX : FALLING STILL- PHARISEE
This time he falls and does not rise
He is so close to his demise
That I can see the wasted land
Where they will nail his feet and hands
In spite of cards that fate has dealt
Why do you not save yourself?

X : ROBBED- JOHN
They take your clothes and leave you bare
Crown of thorns still in your hair
You wear those twigs like the king you are
And despite these horrid scars
I know you’ll come again someday
So that we can then be saved

XI : NAILED- MAN
This is my job and I’ve no choice
But I have yet to hear your voice
You do not protest when we stab
Your hands and then your side they jab
I cannot help but think and pray
Are you the king as they all say?

XII : MORTEM - CHRIST
Father father why have you
Abandoned me as I go through
I trust you, I do not doubt
The things you ask to carry out
With my last breath, I want all to hear it:
Into your hands I commend my spirit
”

A self-portrait by Siobhan.

The "God Is In Control Church"

I used to live in a strange town called Waldorf.  The first time I ever went to Waldorf was to eat lunch with new colleagues from the parish where I was about to start working.  Carol directed me to the restaurant by telling me to drive south into Waldorf, then turn left on “Mattawoman-Beantown Road."  Cheryl mentioned a helpful landmark:  “You’ll see a giant paint can on the left side of the road right before your left turn.  The giant paint can is how we mark things in Waldorf – everything is either before or after the paint can.”

I found the whole thing very strange.  Waldorf was always like that for me, though I did become quite accustomed to saying “Mattawoman-Beantown” and giving directions by orienting everything around a very large paint can that was perched on top of a strip mall. 

After slugging through seven or eight years of purgatorial Waldorfian living, my sister-in-law’s Swiss boyfriend informed me that Waldorf means “wooded village” in German.  It sounded so lovely!  If only!

But I shouldn’t complain.  Waldorf had its charms.  And one of them was a little non-denominational church situated on Waldorf’s main thoroughfare, nestled into one of Waldorf’s most nondescript strip malls.  It was called the “God Is In Control Church.”

Now that is a great name for a church.  Sure, we Catholics have very fine church names:  Holy Infant, Our Lady Help of Christians, Prince of Peace, The Basilica of the National Shrine of the Immaculate Conception.  Wonderful saints, devotions and mysteries.  But I think Waldorf may have one-upped us this time.  Every time I drove past that little storefront church, I felt great about life.  I might have been living in a strange town, surrounded by suburbia, yearning for a wooded village.  But God was in control.  God was in control.  And that was enough.

Yes, the members of that little church had done something right.  Just by choosing a name and hanging up a sign, they were evangelizing me.  The “God Is In Control Church” made me happy.  It made me feel safe.  It made me want to nod my head and shout “Amen!” 

Plus, it was almost as much fun to say as “Mattawoman-Beantown.” 

I can't believe I found a picture of the actual paint can in Waldorf, MD!  You can click on the image to go to a website where you will see pictures of many, many giant paint cans found throughout the U.S.  Who knew?  P.S.  My husband enjoyed Waldorf very much.

"Everything"

Last week I gave a retreat for high school sophomores.  It was a very new experience for me!  As I was preparing, a friend of mine recommended a short video that she thought the teens would find meaningful.  She herself had been touched by it as an adult.  I was more than open to suggestions, so I watched the video. 

I loved it.  The sophomores loved it.  And I think you will, too. 

As I told the high school students, you may not have the same problems as the girl in the video, but you will recognize her struggle.  You will understand her searching and straying, the forces at work in her life, and the power of a savior who never leaves our side.  

I recommend that you watch when you have 5 minutes of quiet time by yourself. 

Romance

I recently heard a speaker quote Oswald Chambers: 

“Get into the habit of saying, ‘Speak, Lord,’ and life will become a romance.”

I was struck by the idea, and I tried to put it into practice.  Changing a diaper, sitting in traffic, watching the news, working – I said, “Speak, Lord.”  It was a simple thing to do, a simple way to invite God in, to allow him to speak to me when otherwise I would have just been listening to myself.  I became more aware of his presence.

But what did Oswald Chambers mean by “romance”? 

When we love someone – especially if we are in love with them – we want to be with them.  We want to share everything with them.  This is a natural and relatable human experience.  As it turns out, we are with God all the time, but we rarely call out to him.  We rarely seek the God who is hiding in plain sight in our world, in our day, in each moment.  We are with the one we love, but we don’t realize it.  We aren’t listening for the quiet voice of the beloved.

Jesus described this pervasive divine presence in his own way:  “The Kingdom of God is among you” (Lk. 17:21).  Indeed, the presence, the reign, the kingdom of God grows, like a mustard seed, from something very small into a wonderful, shady bush where birds can land and rest (Lk. 13:18-19).  It grows this way in our lives, too – as we become more aware of how close he is, how much he loves us, how much there is to share.  The harsh world outside can feel more like a shady bush if we are living in it with the one we love. 

Sounds romantic, doesn’t it?  Speak, Lord!