What could be more romantic than the view from a hot air balloon, floating as the breeze will take you through the dawn sky? Of course, the beauty and romance of a hot air balloon is exactly its inconvenience—you have no rudder, no wings, no control over what direction you will go.
What is the best thing that has happened to you because you ended up somewhere you didn’t intend to go?
Look, writes Mary Oliver in her poem “In Blackwater Woods,” the trees/are turning/their own bodies/into pillars//of light,/ are giving off the rich/ fragrance of cinnamon/and fulfillment…. Even as the trees prepare to let go into winter and stillness they burn with an incandescent light. Sometimes our moments of greatest abundance come as we recognize the inevitability of loss.
When have you made beauty out of facing loss?
The phrase, “my cup runneth over” from the 23rd Psalm epitomizes the image of abundance—enough and more than enough. In the season of harvest, baskets can overflow with apples, tomatoes, zucchini and so much more. Abundance sufficient to eat now, preserve for later and still share with friends.
What do you have so much of that you can enjoy it, share it, and expect to have enough for later?
A veil both hides and reveals, inviting you to imagine the totality of what you can only glimpse in part, whether that be a bride, the rocks behind a waterfall or a sacred mystery.
What half-hidden thing captivates you?
“Forgiveness is the name of love practiced among people who love poorly. The hard truth is that all people love poorly. We need to forgive and be forgiven every day, every hour increasingly. That is the great work of love among the fellowship of the weak that is the human family.”
―Henri J.M. Nouwen
Who has forgiven you for loving poorly?
