Dear Friend,

This year’s spring has seem slow in coming. It’s been cold. It’s been rainy. We almost were blown away a few times and have spent more time in our basement than usual. Hopefully all those April showers will bring some May flowers! I have started to see some of my flowers finally starting to bud.

All of this weather reminds me that sometimes resurrection and transformation are like that. Slow to get started. Bumpy. Not really what we were hoping for. Getting us to visit parts of ourselves we don’t always spend much time with. I hope if you are in a time of transformation (which maybe we all are always in – just how conscious we are of it perhaps) that you will get to see some of the flowers soon.

Blessings,
Pastor Jenny

Fingers Pointing at the Moon

by Barbara Brown Taylor

I love just about everything Barbara Brown Taylor writes. Her way with words always speaks to me and helps me see more beauty and richness in things. What better then, than an essay from her on the ways words shape us. Talking about how our religious language can be a challenge, she quotes Richard Rohr who wrote, “We are all fingers pointing at the moon arguing about who has the best finger.”

Read the full article here.

Come, my Way, my Truth, my Life

Paul Zach

Fitting with last Sunday’s sermon on John 14, here is a song off a new album by Paul Zach called Hymns Volume 2. The song is Come, my Way, my Truth, my Life. It’s lovely and you may like other songs from the album too!

Walking in Peace

Zen Master Thich Nhat Hanh

It is the season when more of us might be getting out in the nice weather for walks. Someone recently shared this brief video from Zen Master Thich Nhat Hanh talking about “walking in peace.” I thought it was a lovely way to think about encountering the divine in a simple walk. I can imagine his suggestion of the words “I have arrived. I am home” as a really lovely breath prayer that could be integrated while walking.

Sometimes in this Easter season, as spring is springing, and we keep talking about resurrection, if you aren’t feeling very springy or ready for good news and flowers everywhere, it can feel lonely. Here’s a lovely blessing from Kate Bowler about what it is to be “not-yet-risen.”

a blessing for the not-yet-risen

Blessed are you
who didn’t bounce back,
who are still in bed
while the world moves on.

Blessed are you
in the space between endings
and beginnings,
where nothing is clear
and everything feels tender.

You didn’t miss it.
The miracle, the moment,
the part where everything
was supposed to get better.

Some seasons don’t come
with signs.
No lilies. No trumpets.
Just quiet days strung together,
asking you to keep going.

Blessed are you
doing the slow work of living,
when “new life”
feels more like “mostly tired.”

You don’t have to have answers.
You don’t have to feel inspired.
You are still becoming,
even here.

There’s no rush to rise.
No gold star for speed.
This kind of growth
takes time.

So may you trust
what’s still soft and unfolding.
May you feel the nearness
of love that doesn’t leave.

And when the world asks for
more than you can give–
may you remember:

you are not the problem to solve.

You are the story still being told.