Who is the center of my universe?

By Melanie Jean Juneau

Observable universe logarithmic illustration by
Unmismoobjetivo (Wikimedia Commons).

An interesting question to ask ourselves, “Am I Christ centric or ego centric?”

I was shocked when I discovered that I functioned as if I was the center of the universe.

Shocked because I  really did not grasp that my whole paradigm was skewed.

Shocked because I thought I had given my life to God.

Shocked to understand just how much inner transformation it takes to say with St. Paul,

 Galatians 2:20

I have been crucified with Christ and I no longer live, but Christ lives in me. The life I now live in the body, I live by faith in the Son of God, who loved me and gave himself for me.

 Until we allow our false selves, our egos to die, we  view the world through our eyes with events and other people revolving around ourselves as the centre.

Only surrendering that false self to Christ on the cross can free us from this prison of selfish isolation and plug us into the Mystical Body of Christ.

Then we are free to simply be children of God as we gather with others to worship Christ at the center of all life.

I do not make Christ  the center of my life because Christ isn’t merely the center according to St. Paul, He IS my life!

Colossians 3:4 “When Christ, who is our life, is revealed, then you also will be revealed with Him in glory.”

 Melanie originally posted this at:

http://melaniejeanjuneau.wordpress.com/2014/07/14/me-my-mine/

 

Between Us

By Cynthia Scodova



"...But the greatest of these is love."
                                First Corinthians 13

Driving through the rain

that stays

along the miles

we draw apart,

in the time we were given.

And our letting go 

become cloud

going 

around and around

the sphere

of our hearts--

carrying, with storm winds,

the blazon-unleashing leaves

like lamps of angels

 down the dark road

lengthening 

between us

in the lashing

rain,

where love 

remains.

 

 

Read more of Cynthia's poetry at  The Mad-eyed Monk.

I need angels in autumn

By Daria Sockey

St. Michael by Fra Angelico
 (phto credit: Wikimedia Commons).

September 29th thru October 7th is one of my favorite stretches of the entire year. On the natural level, the fall foliage is approaching its peak. Just walking the dog or driving out to buy milk becomes an exercise in joy, as sky and trees compete with one another to astound us mortals with their beauty. Liturgically, we get a string of beloved feasts: The Holy Archangels, St. Therese, The Holy Guardian Angels, St. Francis of Assisi, and Our Lady of the Rosary.

The only downside to this time of year is something I call on both my Guardian Angel and St. Francis to assist me with. Anyone who drives through the farms, meadows and forests of northwest Pennsylvania these next ten weeks runs a huge risk of hitting a deer. It's mating season among our hoofed and antlered furry friends. The boys are (literally)  chasing the girls, and no one is watching where they are going. True, deer never pay much attention to cars in the best of times, but they are twice as careless in the autumn. The roadside body count goes up dramatically this time of year. Along with insurance claims.
 
Continue reading at Daria's blog Coffee and Canticles.

Lessons in spiritual warfare from a bougainvillea

By Caroline



One day I decided this needed to go:

It’s pretty, I know. But this beauty has an evil side; it has mad thorns that will rip your flesh with one wrong move. It grows like wildfire and you can’t kill it. What began as a small potted gift from a friend had turned into a fiend that was destroying my fence, yard and innocent flowers.

My husband doesn’t let me use electrical tools in the garden because…well, because I’ve given him good reason not to. So– I have been relegated to do whatever I’d like in the garden as long as I don’t sever electrical wires or send myself to the emergency room.

Every summer in the unrelenting Florida heat, I’d trim it back in tiny increments, but the more I trimmed the faster and thicker it grew… until it took over half of the backyard fence.

It was so intricately entwined and out of control that as I stood with my clippers in hand I was at a loss for where to begin. One thing about me …  If I have enough determination to begin something, I will finish it… The job will get done, come what may. That’s my mother’s DNA.


Continue reading at Caroline's blog Bell of the Wanderer.

Beloved

By Cynthia Scodova


Let the heavens rejoice, let the earth be glad,

  let the sea and its fullness resound.

The fields will rejoice, and all that is in them,

  all the trees of the woods will rejoice

  at the Lord’s presence – for he comes...

                                                                                     Psalm 96

                                  You are beautiful, my beloved,
                                  easing into
                                  the long bed of night;
                                  deep-indigo, star-dust satin
                                  you brighten
                                  each morning.

                                  Your light becoming
                                  what it touches:
                                  peridot pastures torching
                                  the uncontainable lines of heaven and earth;

                                  the fire rings of maples
                                  opening fists of rubies,
                                  citrines and sapphires,
                                  hues on hues of garnets
                                  scattering like broken necklaces
                                  across the blue-silver
                                  floors of the autumn air--
                                          our hearts seasons and solstices.


Continue reading Cynthia' poem at  The Mad-Eyed Monk.

Our biggest delusion

by Melanie Jean Juneau

Morning  by George Inness (photo credit: Wikimedia Commons).

There is a world of difference between a man who is aware of himself, sitting on a hill and looking at a beautiful sunrise and a man so enthralled with that very same sunrise that he forgets himself and becomes  absorbed in the scene. In the first instance the man is egocentric; he is at the center 0f his world, not God

When I see beauty everywhere, I experience joy and a sense of connection because my eyes are not on myself. The truth is that I am simply part of the whole. Everything does not depend on me. I am free to relax and enjoy the beauty of nature and the Spirit of God which permeates all when I am in the right place in the scheme of things.

I am living in a fantasy when I see myself as the center of the universe, viewing everything as it circles around me. As believers we sing and recite prayers that proclaim that God is the center of all but our psychological make-up screams the exact opposite. I view people, events, history and yes even God through my eyes, judging what is right, trusting my thoughts and my feelings as the final judge of what is real. When Jesus says that we must die to ourselves, He is not speaking about some pious self-sacrifice that makes us look holy, no He has something much more radical in mind. The kind of inner transformation Jesus desires literally rips the rug up from under our feet and shatters our world view.

"I have been crucified with Christ and I no longer live, but Christ lives in me. The life I now live in the body, I live by faith in the Son of God, who loved me and gave himself for me" (Galatians 2:20).

Why is modern man so anxious, nervous, out of sorts? Part of the reason is probably that many people barely see a blade of grass during their normal work day. Surrounded by concrete and glass, our innate self craves connection with the rest of the natural world, other people , the communion of saints, (both living and dead) and at an even deeper level, God Himself. Instead we live in isolated, man-made prisons which shut out other human,s never mind other living creatures and God.  Each person is at the center of their little artificial universe. That means that each of us has assumed the role of king or queen of our tiny kingdoms with everything depending on us.

I was never designed to live alone like an island unto myself. Yet, in my pride, I cling tenaciously to my throne and crown. Only when I was completely depleted and shattered, only then did I resign and give God  back His job. Only the did I surrender an ego centric point of view and embraced reality which is that God is at the center of the universe and I am simply part of the Mystical  Body of Christ.

Definitely absurd, but I only saw this fact after I surrendered and let go of control. What is really important in life is not found in self-created delusion but discovered as I learn to live in harmony with a bigger universe than the one I created.

"In the total expanse of human life there is not a single square inch of which the Christ, who alone is sovereign, does not declare, ‘That is mine!’" (Abraham Kuyper).

St. John of the Cross (San Juan de la Crux), who lived in the 16th century, explains the inner process of becoming one with Christ:

I lose myself and remain,
With my face on the Beloved inclined;  
All has come to rest,  
I abandon all my cares  
There, among the lilies, to die.

 Melanie Jean Juneau blogs at  Joy of Nine.

A thousand dimensions

by Nancy Shuman

Photo by Greg Smith, Wikimedia Creative Commons.

I fell in love with the sea when I was seventeen.  Never mind that I'd never laid eyes on it.  Never mind that I was growing up in a landlocked American state, far from salty breezes.  I imagined crashing waves and windswept dunes and oh, such a wonderful smell! 

The first time I saw the ocean, that day when I was hit with the full impact of sounds and scents and gusts of wind for which I had only been partially prepared, I knew I'd had no way beforehand of picturing the scene spread out in three dimensions before me.  The constant roll of waves, that overpowering ROAR, the feel of feet being sucked down into wet sand.  Even though I'd dreamed of it and actually in some way loved it, there was no way I could have envisioned the totality of it all. 

Everything I'd imagined about the sea was true.  The only shock was in discovering how much MORE there was to it.  The three-dimensionality of it.  The engagement of senses I'd never thought would be called into service. 

Sometimes I compare my love of the sea to love of God.  Never having seen Him, I love Him.  I have true ideas of Him, and through His grace I can actually know Him.  Yet there is no way I can know Him in His fullness until I see Him face to face.  I cannot even envision such Totality, and I suspect such vision would overwhelm a human still in the flesh.

Will there be, in eternity, sounds beyond anything we've ever heard here?  Colors not detectable to eyes of flesh?  A thousand dimensions spread before us, in every taste and shade, in every tone and depth, in every texture of Love.... ?

"Eye has not seen, ear has not heard, nor has it so much as dawned on man what God has prepared for those who love Him."  (1 Corinthians 2:9) 


This was originally posted at  The Breadbox Letters. Nancy Shuman also blogs at  The Cloistered Heart.

Crepusculous Moments

by Ruth Ann

Manuscript of Salve Regina (Photo Credit: Fedkuki, Wikimedia).

 I have discovered a particularly unique time of the day, a space when time itself seems to stand still. Sun has just set, yet there is still the soft glow of scattered light from the refraction of the sun's rays. One hears the sound of utter silence. There are no bird twitters. They have roosted. No animals are walking about; nor are they making sounds. Nocturnal wildlife has not yet stirred. Within this hush peace emerges. I know God's presence. I pray, giving praise and thanks.

The twilight time ends with the first cricket's chirp, soon followed by others. Twilight gives way to nightfall. I feel like singing Salve Regina.


Originally posted by Ruth Ann on her blog  From the Pulpit of My Life. Please visit Ruth Ann for more reflections from a Third Order Carmelite.