Monday, December 3, 2018

Divine Inspiration

Okay, I have to come clean with you folks. I usually wake up on a Monday morning with at least a vague idea of what I'm going to write about this week. I even sometimes get an inspired thought during the week leading up to Monday and jot it down so I won't forget it. This morning, however, I woke up and knew the minute I realized what day it was that I didn't have even a tiny idea of what I was going to write about today. As the saying goes, "I got nothin'."  So I did what I usually do when this happens ... I seek out Divine Inspiration.

First I whipped out the slip of paper with a writer's prayer on it that I borrowed from writer, author, and psychologist Robert Holden:

Writer's Prayer

I am a pencil in God's hands.

I am here to write love letters from God to everyone in the world.

God is ready to write and, therefore, so am I.

I sit patiently before God and listen for the thoughts of God.

I ask God to remove any imagined blocks to writing now.

I find it easier than expected to write because God does the work.

All I do is listen,
and take notes,
and enjoy the process.

So I did. I sat patiently. And I listened. And this is what I heard: "Open the curtains and look outside." I had drawn the curtains because it was a cold, blustery day outside and I was adding another layer of warmth to the room by keeping the curtains closed. Now I opened them wide and looked ... I mean, really looked. This is what I saw:

  • The same grey, dreary, socked-in cloudy sky that has plagued us for days parted for just a moment, like the Red Sea, and a sliver of blue sky peeked out, releasing a pearly pinkish-white ray of sunshine that spotlighted the roofs of the houses across the street. It was the kind of light that made you think of angels.
  • I saw the little grey squirrel on the roof across the way who is valiantly trying to reclaim his home from the angry birds who drove him off last Spring. Now that they have raised their kids and moved on, my squirrel (I have named him Pip after a children's story I've been working on), has started to move back in, tossing out the used straw and carrying nuts and bits of this and that to store up for the winter. I'm glad to have him back. I've missed his antics.
  • Several crows are screeching around and around overhead. I have no idea what they are so excited about. Did you know that even though, to us, all crows sound alike, the truth is that they can pick out the call of their mate from all the others? And that they always remember a face? Maybe today is the day I'll look up that blog about crow language that I always wanted to check out.
  • The geese are at it again. There is a small flock that doesn't leave for the winter like the rest. They must live nearby at a farm where they will have good shelter and food all winter. Every morning they head out for the river a few blocks from here and hang out, only to return when the sun begins to set. I guess to them it's true that "there's no place like home." 
  • Two blue jays are playing tag, darting in and out of the branches of that huge pine tree outside. How they make those tiny maneuvers through the branches without getting hurt is a miracle.
It never fails. Mother Nature teams up with God and puts on a show for me every day. I watch in amazement at the courage, agility, and beauty of creation and end up asking myself: How can I show up today as the best version of myself for the world? And usually, with a little luck and patience, the answer comes. 

So this is my love letter to the world today. May your clouds part to let in the angelic light of hope. May you find and embrace your place of belonging. May you hear the words of a loved one in your ear today, and may you find time to play with joy and childlike trust. 

And so it is.