The Middle Passage

Joyce Rupp's poem resonates with me -

the persistent voice of midlife wooed and wailed, wept and whined, nagged like an endless toothache, seduced like an insistent lover, promised a guide to protect me as I turned intently toward my soul.

as I stood at the door of "Go Deeper", I heard the ego's howl of resistance, felt the shivers of my false security but knew there could be no other way. inward I travelled, down, down, drawn further into the truth than I ever intended to go.

as I moved far and deep and long, eerie things long lain hidden jeered at me with shadowy voices, while love I'd never envisioned wrapped compassionate ribbons 'round my fearful, anxious heart.

further in I sank, to the depths, past all my arrogance and confusion, through all my questions and doubts, beyond all I held to be fact.

finally I stood before a new door: the Hall of Oneness and Freedom. uncertain and wary, I slowly opened, discovering a space of welcoming light.

I entered the sacred inner room, where everything sings of Mystery. no longer could I deny or resist the decay of clenching control and the silent gasps of surrender.

there in the sacred place of my Self, Love of a lasting kind came forth, embracing me like a long beloved one, come home for the first time.

much that I thought to be "me" crept to the corners and died. in its place a Being named Peace slipped beside and softly spoke my name: "Welcome home, True Self, I've been waiting for you."

Rembrandt's Prodigal Son

I am reading Henri Nouwen's "The Return of the Prodigal Son" based on one of Rembrandt's last paintings at the Hermitage museum.

Rembrandt did not follow the literal text of the parable. What he portrayed is a half-blind old man (he painted the blind as real see-ers), dressed in a gold embroidered garment and deep red cloak, laying his large, stiffened hands on the shoulders of his returning son, in a torn undertunic covering his emaciated body and torn sandals. It's a picture of infinite compassion, unconditional love and everlasting forgiveness. Looking on is the critical older son who stands stiffly erect with both hands clasped together close to his chest.
Henri Nouwen reflects on himself as the wayward younger son, the older resentful son and finally the welcoming father. It's wonderful exposition of homecoming and reconciliation.

Retreat of Silence

Last weekend, I took part in my first silent retreat and discovered the wonderful world of contemplation and meditation.
I quote from Sue Monk Kidd's book "When the Heart Waits" - "When you are waiting, you're not doing nothing. You are doing the most important something there is. You're allowing your soul to grow up. If you can't be still and wait, you can't become what God created you to be."
"Contemplative waiting is consenting to be where we really are. People recoil from it because they don't want to be present in themselves. Such waiting causes a deep existential loneliness to surface, a feeling of being disconnected from oneself and God. At the depths, there is fear, fear of the dark chaos within ourselves."
Such a waiting can be likened to entering into a cocoon; into a process of separation, transformation and emergence [picture taken from www.naute.com].

Cambodian team

This is the wonderful Cambodian team, comprising ELLCO ladies from Singapore and the Christian Broadcasting Network team in Cambodia. We spent a week together from July 14-19, visiting cleft lip/palate patients, taking kids from provinces to the zoo, visiting women and children at Laveasor, Stang Man Chay as well as Phnom Penh and Kandal prisons. It's the true kind of worship described in Isaiah 58 - to feed the hungry, clothed the naked and help the poor. And it brings the best job satisfaction ever! I'm so glad I was part of it.

A Prayer That Convicts

These words from a Franciscan benediction are convicting ...

May God bless you with discomfort
At easy answers, half truths, and superficial relationships
So that you may live deep within your heart.

May God bless you with anger
At injustice, oppression, and exploitation of people,
So that you may work for justice, freedom and peace

May God bless you with tears
To shed for those who suffer pain, rejection, hunger and war
So that you may reach out your hand to comfort them and
To turn their pain into joy

And may God bless you with enough foolishness
To believe that you can make a difference in the world
So that you can do what others claim cannot be done
To bring justice and kindness to all our children and the poor
Amen.

Chronicles of Narnia

I enjoyed The Lion, the Witch and the Wardrobe and was looking forward to its sequel, Prince Caspian. I must admit that I did not enjoy it as much as the first, perhaps because I expected more. However, it's still worth watching - the showstealer was Reepicheep, a swashbuckling mouse as well as the giant liquid figure that rose out of the river to defeat the Telmarines. The story has parallels with the author's own life - Lewis' nursemaid told him folktales and he had an influential tutor, as did Caspian. Both were also motherless.

Long live the Spud!

I love anything with potatoes - shepherd's pie, bangers and mash, french fries, rosti ... Apparently, the UN has declared 2008 as the International Year of the Potatoe and is hoping that its merits would help alleviate poverty and promote economic development.

The spud was first domesticated in the Andes (there are 3,500 edible varieties!) and carried to Europe in the 16th century. Its value lies in its high yield and almost perfect balance of nutrients. Potatoes can produce more energy per unit area per day than any other crop and it's possible to subsist on a diet of spuds with very little else.

Apparently, it underpinned the industrial revolution in England in the 19th century by being a cheap source of calories and an easy crop to cultivate so it liberated workers from the land. But there was also a downside with the Irish potatoe famine of 1845 when 1 million Irish perished because of the potatoe blight.

There's a book out (if you want more details on this tuber food) - Propitious Esculent (Helpful Food): The Potatoe in World History by John Reader - on the biography of the spud; the world's 4th largest food crop (after maize, wheat and rice).

Maybe we should all start growing and eating more potatoes, considering the fast rising prices of wheat and rice (this blurb was inspired by spud articles in The Economist March 1st '08).