agnestirrito

"Whatever you think you can do, or believe you can do, begin it, because action has magic, grace, and power in it." Goethe


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Sunday’s Song: Suffice it to Say…Palm Sunday in Taos

I am at one of those places where I have so much to say, but I cannot say it all today. The specifics have to arrange themselves in the shape they want to be, but I am honoring the commitment I made to blog each Sunday of Lent. So, here I am on sketchy WiFi, typing on my phone, my dear friend Care across from me in a lodge room at the Mabel Dodge Luhan House.

I read over my journal entry from yesterday morning. Start today’s entry. Wonder how on earth a day can hold so much. Today held so much. It is one of those times you think How could all of this happen in one day? Abundance. Total abundance.

I am spending this Holy Week in Taos. It is a marker of time that keeps ticking…keeps saying yeah this is the week you were supposed to be in this place at this time.

If I told you everything so far, you might not believe me. Or you might think I’m a bit crazy. Or you might be glad. Choose glad.

The people in my path have been from every end of the pendulum. A wide arc. We are not all kindreds here…believers and unbelievers and all in between abound…but I have decided sometimes we need the disparity to recognize how much good there is. Or how far we might have to go. How much we still have to do. How much one’s presence matters in this world for so many reasons.

Today I saw parishioners process around a town square, people waving palm branches, singing, marking a moment. I saw a policeman far far down the square holding a palm branch. Waving it. And then a child, an armful of branches at the edge of the crowd bringing us lucky bystanders palms. He was in the frame of my lens and a second later his sweet voice Here. Just that.

Here. As in take it, Woman. Or as in the message be here, present right now. Or as in I see you. Or as in you need this.

Later, I see a family walking. The man (son/brother/father?) had his back pocket filled with palms. He was probably the designated carrier for the family. Maybe they were all out for lunch like we were, enjoying the New Mexico sunshine on a crisp bright day. Maybe they were filled with hope. Something about that pocketful of palms. Something that said see this.

I am seeing a lot these days. Knowing every image is leading me to a place I cannot quite see but know it’s worth walking toward…but remembering to worship the moment I am in. The deep moment of place and time…and suffice it to say I am grateful.

I am watching. Listening.

Here.

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Friday’s Five

Five little things from the past few days that remind me I am a human on this earth:

babies’ laughter…

my daughter’s text from 5,000 miles away…

my son’s hugs…

a sacred medal mailed from a beautiful friend named (appropriately) Care…

a late night phone call from a friend decades younger in real years, but our soul years are sort of the same…

…our connections sustain us. They are the most beautiful and treasured gifts we have on this earth. Cherish your people. 


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Friday’s Five: Moments of Being

I am posting early today, before the day gets away from me. Days get away from me lately. I can’t always do all I hope to do…but isn’t there a grace in that? Isn’t it good to have something else on the horizon? I say yes.

Moments, lately. That’s what I’m grateful for today. 

Sitting in those wonderful massage chairs at a local nail salon with my daughter. I have bright blue toenails for spring. Her fingernails shimmer pink. We were not rushed. We took part in the ritual of self care. 

Late night “in labor” texts from my dear friend Autumn. She’s a mommy again and I got to hold both of her sweet children yesterday. Born fourteen months apart, she’s going to be caught up in a blissful blur of baby busy for a few years. It sure was nice to sit beside her on her bed and hold her newest arrival. Marveling at his tiny fingers. A head full of black hair. He slept peacefully in my arms as I thought of future grandchildren I may be blessed to hold. 

My college students. I love them. I sat beside several of them last night, editing their papers and encouraging their progress. We’ve built another supportive in-class community during those Thursday night sessions. I’m always thankful for the moment   I realize  it has come to pass once again: we care about one another’s efforts. It is a beautiful thing that no test can measure.

A weekly hour apart from the world. I get to spend an hour in prayer at my church’s adoration chapel every Wednesday. There is nothing that matches the peace and understanding that comes from that hour apart with God. It’s like re-meeting an old friend every time. I highly recommend personal, dedicated prayer time, regardless of your religion. You might be surprised how your time multiplies when you make time for what matters.

The cardboard sign the guy had trailing from his backpack at the corner of Richmond this week. A black sharpie scrawl proclaimed YOU ARE BEAUTIFUL. Those three unexpected words stayed with me. I hope  they stay with you, too.

Here’s to many good moments of being for you all. Blessings…


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Sunday’s Song: Waiting

Gratitude is a decision. A conscious one. And while I didn’t log my Friday’s list of five blessings this past week, I was vividly aware of them. Moments of understanding and clarity. Moments of self realization. Moments when I was given insight and strength. Moments of grace. Moments that came during days of waiting. I’m thankful.

…for we are in the midst of waiting.

A cure isn’t coming. We’ve known that.

Can a miracle happen? Sure. Even our parish priest appealed to the congregation at several masses this weekend to pray for one for Sam as we enter this season of Lent. But if the miracle does not come, I keep Sam’s words in my mind:

He is the miracle.

So. We wait. One way or another, we will each journey home. At a time of God’s choosing. Sam waits in peaceful expectation. At home. Amid the beauty of God’s creation: cardinals, ducks, and geese greet us. The wild pear are in bloom: a different painting every day as we look outside.

Right now, we are waiting to see if yesterday’s 70 degree weather really will change to 28 degrees overnight as the weatherman predicts.
The birds are waiting for me to fill the feeders.
There’s corn spread on the levy outside our back windows, waiting on an elusive deer to gift us with its presence.
I’m learning every day we are all waiting for something. How I wait has become important to me. Waiting without worry. Waiting in a state of peace. Waiting during the day at hand, not one far down the road.
I’ve learned what I do and where my thoughts go while I wait is important.
Some things go undone. Life goes on.
Some people are uncaring. Again, life goes on.
Waiting teaches us what we need to know. It teaches us what we will and will not allow from others. It teaches us who we are.

Lamentations 3:25
The Lord is good to those who wait for him, to the soul who seeks him.

Amen.


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Boston

Today people died in Boston as a result of a terrorist attack at the Boston Marathon. A child is among the dead.
Dozens more are injured.
Lives changed in an instant.
Ours did too.
Miles away, we all changed again today.
Every day is a praying day for me, but even I wonder at all the suffering I know about lately.
It is too much to understand.
There is evil in the world; this we cannot deny. However, we must not give in to the sadness or horror. We must walk on.
Walk on and share your light.


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Contentment

I woke this morning with this verse on my mind and it has stayed with me throughout the day:

I have learned whatever state I’m in, to be content.

I may have loosely translated it here, but it’s from Phillippians 4:11.

I am learning.

It is a time of great change, but I know God will send me what I need. It might be a person, a talent, a memory.

I felt a calmness today I haven’t felt in a long while. That is not to say all my problems are solved or all my worries are over.

It is to say that today I remembered a verse I has forgotten for awhile, and today I decided to live it.