Living in Unconditional Love (65)
Jun 05, 2022
Living in Unconditional Love (65)
“Love flows from God to humans without effort:
As a bird glides through the air without moving its wings-
Thus, they go wherever they wish united in body and soul,
Yet separate in form.”
–Mechtild of Magdeburg
My wife Eileen died from esophageal cancer in February 2020 one year after being diagnosed, 60 years to the day that we met on Long Island. Then my brother Tom became ill, and I spent a total of six weeks being with him in Ohio, but he died in October 2020. My sister-in-law Sue Mahoney died from Covid-19 in January 2021. On top of it all stood the pandemic, locking everyone down almost two years, and even though it is abating, I wear my mask anytime I am out among people, unlike many.
06/05/2022 The rhododendrons are in bloom and the iris have started to bloom, so mid-spring is here. I seem to be running about ten days behind almost everyone else. My peonies are showing buds but no color, but everything looks great. One problem: I planted (or to be honest: had planted) a dozen annuals in the garden by the hill/barn and watered them and they were looking great – until they vanished! Some critter ate them all! (I have lots of critters.) I have another dozen in the garden in the front of the house and they are all doing fine.
I have not been to the cemetery since before Memorial Day, and plan on going on Sunday (I am writing this on Saturday – a bright but chilly day, in the 60’s) sometime in the afternoon and plant some more gladiolas and see how the geranium is doing. I planted three close by the headstone and will plant another three. I have twenty gladiolas already planted in my gardens with another twenty to go – ten each week so I will have beautiful blooms over a longer period. Eileen loved gladiolas, and I think they were her favorite flower.
I had a surprise when I visited the small garden by the hill – a large bird crashed out and vanished in the bushes. When I finally investigated, I discovered a turkey nest with six or seven eggs (I didn’t pause to count). That is the second time a turkey has had a nest close to the house but the first in a garden. Several years ago, one had a nest close to the barn in the grass. I love to see the little ones parading around after hatching, which should occur in ten days or so. The nest is over a foot in diameter, built up with sticks and daffodil leaves, which are thick in that area. I have several lily bulbs there too, and wanted to fertilize them, but that will wait now. It is amazing to think that these big birds come so close to the house; they build a big nest on the ground in some tall grass (in this case daffodil leaves) they can mash around.
I came across a prayer in one of my ‘morning prayer’ times that is very moving and fits what our land is going through. The question I and many others have is how do we (I) have hope and have a positive mind about conditions and the people involved promoting killing weapons? This prayer was found in the Avensbruck Concentration Camp on a scrap of paper lying around and perhaps should be in my daily prayers rather than only once a year on May 29.
O Lord, remember not only
The men and women of good will
But also, those of evil will.
But remember not all the suffering
They have inflicted upon us;
Remember the fruits we have borne
Thanks to this suffering –
Our comradeship, our loyalty,
Our courage, our generosity,
The greatness of heart
Which has grown out of all of this;
And when they come
To stand before You
Let these speak for them.
Light the Flame, 365 Days of Prayer
By Andrew Harvey
Indeed, I believe we need to apply this prayer to all the pain that we see in our world, how it is in pain that we gather together and remember who we are and where we are going. It is pain that draws our minds and scattered wills to a common cause, and from what I have read and seen it is only through pain that we can find the source of all, our core Being, our God. Thus, we have Jesus crucified, joining us in pain as both God and human, clearly illustrating that God not only sees our pain but actively is immersed in our pain. If we are all children of God and therefore are part of that God, then in our pain we find recourse in the sorrow and pain that our world (and us, and me) finds in our life.
Gentle One, I rest once more in You. It is in Your Spirit that I find hope and it is in the pain of the world that Your Love is made manifest by the love of other human beings in relieving that pain. You give us the beauty of the universe to dwell in, and we find much rest in that, but only in pain is our inner being wrenched loose and made bare. Great loss and great pain of any type will do this, and all are bound to experience that at some point in life, for pain is a given for the human life. I bow in gratitude for the gentle Love that flows from You to us in this time in the form of heart-wrenching love from so many to so many others that are experiencing life altering pain.