Psalm 42 is one of my favorites – it speaks meaning into a variety of circumstances. I’m taking a writing class this semester, and we had an in class assignment to write a prayer using the form of a “collect.” The basic structure is a address to God, an attribution to God, a request from God based on that attribution, something we hope would result from the fulfillment of that request, and ending of praise. Below is my collect.
You who are the Living Water,
you nourish our lives as you quench our thirst.
Fill our broken hearts with your deep wholeness,
that our longing for you might overflow into joyful praise;
we wait for you in hope, God our Source, our Life, and our Strength.
June is the month of adventures in worship for me.
I began the month at the Forum for Theological Exploration’s Christian Leadership Forum, where I was a part of the worship planning team. Then, the middle of June marks the beginning of my school’s summer session, during which I’ve joined with 2 other students and the Dean of the Chapel to coordinate the summer chapel worship services. Finally, on Wednesday, I’ll be headed to the Wild Goose Festival in Hot Spring, North Carolina, where I’ll be joining other folk from FTE to curate the chapel space. (And in between all this I’ve come to Bloomington to perform a concert with my sister.) It’s a doozy of a month. Regular posts – and reflections on this month’s happenings – will resume in July.
Embedded in the very definition of “sojourner” is the understanding that such a person is a temporary resident – she lives somewhere fully, but not forever.
Several years ago I was a “transcarpathian sojourner,” and, until this afternoon, this long-neglected blog named me as the “sojourner at home.” I still identify as a sojourner, one who is both rooted and on the move, but it is one piece of the liturgy that shapes me life. I want to open up the margins of my writing and let in something – or someone – more whole.
What will you find here, now that the title of the blog is simply my name? Poetry, prayers, life-happenings, musings about church and the world, ideas for new ways to practice the presence of God, favorite quotes, gratitude lists, challenges to the status-quo, meditations, conversations …
There is a piece of paper taped to the window sill above my sink that contains a quote about God’s presence in dish washing and then these two questions: “What is the daily liturgy you are writing? Where is the Eucharist in it?” A few definitions may be in order. Liturgy = work of the people. Eucharist = thanksgiving. The goal is to share here thoughts on how to craft a daily work of the people shaped by thankfulness for the presence of Christ in our brokenness. This encompasses everything: how we live somewhere, the food we eat, the people we laugh with, the stories we embrace, the way we are attentive to the water we drink and the air we breathe. In each moment of being, be ever thankful.