small and simple.....

I have been more faithful than usual this winter in praying the Liturgy of the Hours.Two other books companion my prayer time;reflections of Thomas Merton,the writer /monk and Brennan Manning,the ex-priest,alcoholic/radical lover of Christ.Their words are so honest and true.In this lifetime,I doubt I will be humble enough to be so self revealing.

Merton was a monk in Kentucky, so his writings for January often mention being snowed in at his hermitage and how this is perfect for his soul .In this confinement and solitude ,he is more able to indulge "my joy and my only importance,"praising God.

"The Lord is king,let the earth rejoice,
let the coastlands be glad.
Cloud and darkness are his raiment;
his throne,justice and right......
.......Rejoice you just in the Lord;give glory to his holy name"".Ps 97

As I write these words, I realize how uncomfortable I am with praising God.The Liturgy of the Hours is mainly praise but these are not my words although I believe them .As I ruminate on this, I take heart that there is probably a good reason, not a fatal flaw ,for my discomfort. Praise was given out in my family,extended and close,not at all or never.Sarcasm was their way of communicating and slight flaws never went unexplored.It is how it was for these descendants of tough immigrants.One must never flirt with getting a big head.One should be humbled by being pummeled.Oh, the college girl misspelled a word.Tsk.Tsk.

It has taken me a lifetime to be open enough to hand ,on a small silver plate, simple words of affirmation.What I think ,now leaves my lips and embraces another.It is so freeing.

Perhaps I am intimidated by the grand praise of other writers who see God's beneficence more clearly than I.I need to improve in this area because I believe, along with the monk, that this is my purpose and my joy.I mean to start small and with a simple view.

All praise to the Lord of the Universe for:

-the plump robin in the birdbath...remembered innocence..
-.the grey in the woods that looks like enchanting mist.
-the travelling bluebird at the box in January.....
-the nodding daffodils that lay forgotten for months...
-the small brass bell ,a Welsh lady ,that sits near where I write and watches...
-sunshine after days of drench...
 ..............................................................For these I give you glory.