Wondering while you are wandering into Love: A reflection for Lent

 

I find myself wandering a lot. As I wander I do in fact find myself wondering about so many things. I wonder at the beginning of the week where this Sunday’s wandering may lead. I wonder about the state of the world, our humanity, our capacity to do incredibly beautiful and loving and grotesque things to one another. Sometimes I wander and wonder with others, sometimes alone, well apart from Molly. She though is just off investigating, far less troubled by the state of her own being and or the state of the world. I would do better to follow her wanderings than my own wonderings, but then again she doesn’t have to create and deliver worship.

I was out with a friend and her dog Ronnie, Molly’s best friend, on Wednesday morning. We were wandering and wondering together. My friend is a writer and I was asking them about their current work. They told me that something had got stuck in production. I told them I was struggling to come up with something for this week, despite spending the last two days exploring, wandering down all kinds of blind alleys and getting nowhere. We wandered and wondered for a bit longer and I eventually headed for home.

I had notes and thoughts galore, but my wandering had brought no more clarity to my wondering. I did read a rather beautiful quotation posted by Rev Laura Dobson reflecting on Ash Wednesday and the beginning of Lent, that she had posted on Facebook It is by A. Powell Davies a Unitarian minister in the first half of the twentieth century. It read

“Be with us, O God, when we think of the wrongs we have done to other people; lest, hating ourselves for our evil-doing, we turn our hatred outward on to them. Help us to forgive ourselves, acknowledging that we are no better than we are; and then help us to believe that we can be better.”

As I read I thought it was a beautiful prayer to take into the season of Lent. It got me wondering as we begin our 40 day wander through Lent, what this season is actually about. Surely it is not just about deprivation, but about creation. About creating something beautiful for lives and in the lives of others. Surely its about love coming to life once again in human form. Well at least this seems to be what is at the end of Lent and the joy and celebration of Easter.

We have entered the season of Lent. I hope you all enjoyed your pancakes on Tuesday. On what some still call Shrove Tuesday, or as many prefer to call it “Pancake Day”, or as I prefer to call it “Flat Yorkshire Pudding Day”. How do you eat yours?

The following day “Ash Wednesday”, for Christians, marks the beginning of 40 days of fasting and self-sacrifice that lead up to Easter, the day of re-birth re-newal and new beginnings.

In the account found in Matthews Gospel, that we heard earlier. Jesus is “led by the spirit” into the wilderness, a place of transformation and temptation. He is taken to the pinnacle of the temple and to the top of a high mountain. Here he is offered the world, but rejects the allure of an easier showier more obvious path. Instead he chooses the road less travelled, the heroes path. He is tempted by “Satan” but resists the temptation. Satan is not a physical being, some horned character of cartoons, but the tempter. Satan is an illusory obstacle that keeps us from keeping our responsibilities. It is that power that distracts us from living the loving life that we can. I felt like I was distracted somewhat this week, as I found it hard to focus. Not that I had been wandering around in the desert, starved and exhausted for 40 days, so I didn’t have much of excuse for being distracted. That said I found it hard to focus on the task at hand. I am not alone.

Jesus resisting temptation is a universal tale; many of the great sages went on similar journeys, before embarking on their missions to heal their people. The Buddha had to leave the comforts of home, abandon his weeping family, shave his head and don the robes of a world renouncing ascetic when he began his journey to discover a cure for the pain of the world. Long before his revelations Muhammad used to retreat to Mount Hira, outside of Mecca, where he fasted, performed spiritual exercises and gave alms to the poor. He did this in an attempt to discover a remedy for the troubles of his time. It is currently Ramamdan, a time of fasting for Muslims. When Ghandi began his mission he left the comforts of the elite in which he had lived his whole life and travelled to India carefully observing the plight of the ordinary people.

During their own times in the wilderness the great sages found their answers. Through taking the road less travelled, the hard road, the difficult road, the answers came to them. They discovered the knowledge they needed to impact positively on their people in their time and place. This is the spiritual life in its essence. It is often the hardest most difficult path and it can certainly appear to be the loneliest, one filled with temptations. That said it is the one where the answers are usually found.

The great sages were not just wandering alone, they were wondering what they felt they must do with this one wild wonderful life.

In being called out into the wild they didn’t just wander aimlessly they wondered, often for a long time. I have heard lent being described as being a long time, as in length. The forty days are symbolic of a long time, just as 40 years in the desert symbolised a long time wandering round the desert for Moses and his people seeking the “Promised Land”. So too the story of Jesus in the wilderness echoes this struggle. His was to remain true to his covenant, theirs was to establish a religious community.

Wandering and wondering in the wild is part of everyone’s spiritual journey. I’m sure most have experienced this in recent times. The journey is individual as well as communal. It is a time of struggle, but also transformation. It reminds us that we are alone, but also not alone. As Sarah York puts it:

“We are neither where we have been nor where we are going. There is danger and possibility, risk and promise. In the wilderness, the spirit may descend like a dove and lift us on its wings of hope, then drive us into the depths of despair; it may affirm us with a gift of grace, then challenge us to change. In the stories and rituals of Eastern as well as Western religions, a journey into the wilderness represents a time when we both pursue and resist the Holy.

We may choose to enter the wilderness like the people of Yahweh, to escape bondage, or, like Henry David Thoreau, to “live deliberately.” Or we may, like Jesus, be driven there without much choice. Once there, even our markers of time and space collapse, for this wilderness is not in space or time, but is the boundless territory of the soul.”

It is easy to look at Lent as merely a time of deprivation. Of denying ourselves in solidarity. There is an element to this, people choose to give things up for Lent and deny human pleasure etc. it is the same with fasting in other traditions too. There is more to it than this though. To me it is a time of preparation. Yes, of purification, but in the sense that it is readying us for something new. Something that will be given birth to on the new day of renewal and re-birth that is Easter.

As I wandered home and thought of Easter and the enjoyment of chocolate and the Easter eggs in the shops etc my wonderings turned to a film that seems to me to be a fascinating allegory of what is at the heart of what was discovered during those wanderings and wonderings in the desert,

The film is “Chocolat” by Lasse Hallstrom. It is set during the season of Lent, in a small French town in 1959. The town Lansquenet holds fast to tradition. The Mayor of the town has the young priest in the palm of his hand and he gets him to preach sermons each week to the people about the dangers of temptation, the threat to morality posed by outsiders, and even the evils of chocolate.

A beautiful and mysterious woman Vianne enters the town and opens a chocolate shop, this infuriates the mayor. She is seen as the ultimate symbol of temptation. Her joy for life leads her to reaching out to others who are excluded in the village. She guesses their favourite chocolate and pours out her love and acceptance. All the while the mayor attempts to have her driven out of town. Throughout the film all the characters seem to go on a journey, the classic heroes journey. A journey that is the length of time, that is Lent, is perhaps all about.

The young priest Pere Henri goes on the same journey and finally he finds his voice. On Easter morning he wakes up and realises he has had enough and instead of preaching a sermon on the divinity of Jesus, instead he speaks of his humanity. He talks of the religion of Jesus, rather then the one that had been made around him. He spoke of the lessons of his life, about inclusion and universal love saying:

"We can't go around measuring our goodness by what we don't do. We measure goodness by what we embrace, what we create, and who we include."

Isn’t this the message that came into being in the desert after those 40 days. A message that was brought to people about a new religion, a message that stood in contrast to the tribalism and blind following of rules of the time. A message that brought the spirit alive in people’s lives. a message that needs to be heard again in this our day and age. A message of inclusion of radical love; a message of universal acceptance.

So, this is my message this Lenten season. This is where my wanderings and wonderings have led. It is nothing new. It’s message that has been heard for millenniums. It might sound radical in this day and age, but I’m not sure it is. Unless love and acceptance is considered beyond the pale. I invite you to journey with me this Lenten season and see what you might uncover and perhaps discover as we wander and wonder, sometimes alone and sometimes together.

I’m going to end with a little Mary Oliver. It’s a kind of question really. The poem is “A Summer’s Day”, so yes it is not seasonally correct, but hey we are somewhat unorthodox round here. So here it is.

“Summer’s Day” by Mary Oliver

Who made the world?
Who made the swan, and the black bear?
Who made the grasshopper?
This grasshopper, I mean —
the one who has flung herself out of the grass,
the one who is eating sugar out of my hand,
who is moving her jaws back and forth instead of up and down —
who is gazing around with her enormous and complicated eyes.
Now she lifts her pale forearms and thoroughly washes her face.
Now she snaps her wings open, and floats away.
I don't know exactly what a prayer is.
I do know how to pay attention, how to fall down
into the grass, how to kneel down in the grass,
how to be idle and blessed, how to stroll through the fields,
which is what I have been doing all day.
Tell me, what else should I have done?
Doesn't everything die at last, and too soon?
Tell me, what is it you plan to do
with your one wild and precious life?

Below is a video devotion based on the material in this "blogspot"

Being Visited by Journeymen: Entertaining Angels Without Knowing It

I had made plans to go to Dunham Massey with Molly and a friend on Tuesday morning. As it happened this didn’t work out as I planned. This happens a lot. Plans are made and then things don’t quite work out the way you would want them to. I went for coffee with some friends. The conversation wandered down a few cynical avenues and I left with a few negative thoughts wondering what I would do that day. I had no idea what to explore although there were thoughts of the God of Surprises floating about my mind. As I passed the market I noticed two “eccentrically” dressed women in black hats talking with a couple of people, I wondered who they were. I then went home, with thoughts of where to take Molly for her walk. I decided to go to the schoolroom first and prepare it for the “Living the Questions” group that evening. There was a knock on the door, Molly started barking. I opened the door and discovered the two women I had passed at the market. They introduced themselves as Jade (pronounced Jada) and Eva, telling me that they were “journeymen” and were looking for somewhere to shelter, to sleep for the night. They had been sleeping outside for several days as they were travelling around the country. They explained to me what a “Journey Man” was. I will explain in a moment. They both had staffs and some baggage which they carried. They left this gear in the schoolroom. I told them that room would be free from 9pm as we had a discussion group which they were welcome to join us for if they wished.

I was blown away by this amazing encounter and pleased my best laid plans had not gone the way I had wanted them to. The God of Surprises seemed well at work.

The Journeyman tradition dates back to the middle ages. When an apprentice had finished their apprenticeship with their master they were to go out on their wander, their waltz, their journey. They were to travel around working and learning from other masters before returning home better skilled. They were called journeymen as they travelled day by day. Journey coming from the French word Journier which meant your daily task or daily travel. They went out into the world living day by day on their journey living on their daily bread. They were to travel for at least three years and one day and could not return to be freemen of their trade until they had done so. The tradition continued until the post war years. The Nazi’s were opposed to it and it almost died off during the war years. Following the reunification of Germany the tradition has revived. Journeymen today are not only men. Jada is a woman and Eva identifies and non-binary.

I bumped into them both later in the day when out walking with Molly. I sat and talked with them a while and found out more about them. They came and joined us for “Living the Questions”. We did not explore the subject we had planned, instead we let Jade and Eva tell us about themselves and their experiences as Journeymen.

It was an incredible evening as they talked about their experiences on the journey. They must travel by hitching a ride and find some place to sleep each night. They are of course meant to work and learn their trades from other masters. Jade is a carpenter and Eva a leather craftsperson. Of course this is no longer allowed in the UK as they are European Union citizens. They explained their clothing and why it is designed as it is as well as the staffs they carry. They talked about how vital it is that they learn patience and understanding and not to get down even if they had wait hours for a lift. They talked about how the journey was helping them develop as people and to understand others. What struck me was how they could not be shy, they had to be courageous. How they had to be humble in asking for help and how they were offering to others an opportunity to be generous. They were like living angels to me as they seemed to bring out the generosity in people. They brought out so much joy in me and in some of us present. I cannot tell you how much the whole experience moved me. I asked them what had brought them to knock at my door. They said that they were talking with a couple of people at the market and they has said that they should try the minister at the Unitarian chapel, as you would find a friendly welcome there. I could have cried, this touched my heart deeply.

I could tell you so much more about these two incredible people who blessed us with their presence. They were heading towards the Lake District and then Edinburgh before travelling down the Yorkshire coast and to York before heading south. They slept the night in the school room and I said I would leave them to go when they felt ready in the morning. I am sure they will bless many more people on their journey. Neither would be returning home for a couple of years, but I know that when they do they will have so much treasure to share.

Earlier we heard an extract from the Hebrews chapter 13 vv 1-6. The line from the second verse has been resonating with me since Tuesday. 2Do not neglect to show hospitality to strangers, for by doing that some have entertained angels without knowing it. Who is showing hospitality to these strangers in our very midst?”

This seems to me exactly what occurred on Tuesday. Jade and Eva were both offering and receiving hospitality wherever they go and they are blessing and bringing out blessings everywhere. I felt like we had entertained angels on Tuesday.

Showing hospitality and caring for the vulnerable in society is a key aspect of the Judeo - Christian and Islamic tradition. You will find it deeply rooted in the Abrahamic traditions and virtually every other world religion too. Hospitality is an essential spiritual practice. It begins with an open heart and a generosity of spirit. It’s about recognising the good in life and in people, especially those in need. It’s about recognising ourselves in those very same people. It’s about being open and welcoming to all, wherever they have been, where ever they are going and wherever they find themselves now. Tibetan Buddhist monks great the strangers visiting their temples with “Welcome, friend, from what noble spiritual tradition do you come.” The Christian monastic tradition has a long held practise of taking in strangers and offering them sanctuary as if they were Christ, inspired by those very words from Hebrews. In so doing they are following the example of Jesus who mingled with all people, there was no one left outside the city gate, no untouchables.

This ancient hospitality seems to be to be at the very core of the Journeyman tradition and something that is sadly dying out in our modern age. Hospitality to me seems to be the whole concept of “Kin-dom of Love” right here right now.

Sadly, our age has become characterised by distrust, there is a fear of the strange and the stranger. Tuesday reminded how important hospitality to strangers is. In so doing we offer true spiritual love and liberate ourselves from the bondages of selfishness and self-centredness. It sets us free. Jade and Eva seemed so free as they offered folk they met the opportunity to be generous. They reminded me of the following by Joan Chittister “Hospitality is the way we come out of ourselves. It is the first step toward dismantling the barriers of the world. Hospitality is the way we turn a prejudiced world around one heart at a time.” In listening to Jade and Eva’s adventures they seem the absolute incarnation of this amongst us. We were entertaining angels on Tuesday and they blessed the town of Altrincham, they certainly blessed me.

I was thinking of Jade and Eva on Wednesday after they left, as they headed to find a lift towards the lake district. I was wondering how long they would have to wait patiently before getting a ride. I thought about their journey, how they were “following their bliss”, how it is a classic example of Joseph Campbell’s “Hero’s Journey”.

Campbell described life as a call to adventure. Highlighting that human history is littered with stories and adventures inspired by the search for treasure and or wisdom - Stories such as Jason and the Argonauts or many of the other Greek tales, Pilgrims Progress, Gulliver’s Travels, The Wizard of Oz, Jack and the Beanstalk, The Lord of the Rings the list goes on and on – Humanity’s canon is littered with folk tales and myths which teach us about this call to adventure, about the potential for both beauty and horror that is life.

Joseph Campbell spent years exploring these myths and stories believing that they possessed universal qualities that could help us understand how so often life calls us out to adventure, often at the least expected of moments.

Campbell identified four distinct stages of the journey. The first stage he named as “The Call to Adventure”. This he claimed is caused by discontent, which draws us out of the comfort of our lives to risk something new. The second he described as an initiation, where ordeals are faced that test someone’s mental and physical skills. The third stage is the time of revelation the discovery of truth and treasure. The final stage is the return to one’s community, with wisdom gained and with treasure to share.

These adventures began and ended with a call. They began with a powerful call to adventure, but they also ended with an equally powerful call, to return home. Just think of Dorothy in the Wizard of Oz and those immortal words as she clicked her ruby slippers “There’s no place like home, there’s no place like home, there’s no place like home.”

Surely this is what Jade and Eva were on. Isn’t this exactly what Journeymen do. Certainly as I listened to them they described how they were called out of the comfort of their lives, to seek meaning and adventure. How they faced many ordeals with heart and courage and how they were blessed by the people they met, how they learnt so much about themselves and life itself. How they left gifts wherever they went, bringing out a great deal of good in the world. They will eventually return home with gold to share.

On Monday I stepped into the chapels gardens and noticed 6 magpies. I have never seen six before. I told a friend about this and they said well you had better keep your eyes open for gold, because six magpies symbolise gold. Well, the very next day I discovered it in these two remarkable journeymen Jade and Eva. They blessed me and this town with their visit that day. They brought out the best in me and I trust that we left them with a good impression and stories to share on their adventure. I believe I encountered two angels that day.

What a journey.

Below is a video devotion based on the material in this "blogspot"

Not Everything is Lost

“Gate A-4” by Naomi Shihab Nye

Wandering around the Albuquerque Airport Terminal, after learning my flight had been delayed four hours, I heard an announcement:
"If anyone in the vicinity of Gate A-4 understands any Arabic, please come to the gate immediately."

Well—one pauses these days. Gate A-4 was my own gate. I went there.

An older woman in full traditional Palestinian embroidered dress, just like my grandma wore, was crumpled to the floor, wailing. "Help,"
said the flight agent. "Talk to her. What is her problem? We
told her the flight was going to be late and she did this."

I stooped to put my arm around the woman and spoke haltingly.
"Shu-dow-a, Shu-bid-uck Habibti? Stani schway, Min fadlick, Shu-bit- se-wee?" The minute she heard any words she knew, however poorly used, she stopped crying. She thought the flight had been cancelled entirely. She needed to be in El Paso for major medical treatment the next day. I said, "No, we're fine, you'll get there, just later, who is picking you up? Let's call him."

We called her son, I spoke with him in English. I told him I would stay with his mother till we got on the plane and ride next to her. She talked to him. Then we called her other sons just
for the fun of it. Then we called my dad and he and she spoke for a while in Arabic and found out of course they had ten shared friends. Then I thought just for the heck of it why not call some Palestinian poets I know and let them chat with her? This all took up two hours.

She was laughing a lot by then. Telling of her life, patting my knee, answering questions. She had pulled a sack of homemade mamool cookies—little powdered sugar crumbly mounds stuffed with dates and nuts—from her bag—and was offering them to all the women at the gate.
To my amazement, not a single woman declined one. It was like a sacrament. The traveler from Argentina, the mom from California, the lovely woman from Laredo—we were all covered with the same powdered sugar. And smiling. There is no better cookie.

And then the airline broke out free apple juice from huge coolers and two little girls from our flight ran around serving it and they were covered with powdered sugar, too. And I noticed my new best friend— by now we were holding hands—had a potted plant poking out of her bag, some medicinal thing, with green furry leaves. Such an old country tradi-tion. Always carry a plant. Always stay rooted to somewhere.

And I looked around that gate of late and weary ones and I thought, This is the world I want to live in. The shared world. Not a single person in that gate—once the crying of confusion stopped—seemed apprehensive about any other person. They took the cookies. I wanted to hug all those other women, too.

This can still happen anywhere. Not everything is lost.

Not everything is lost. I love this story poem by Naomi Shiab Nye. It describes beautifully what it means to truly live sacramentally, what it means to bless those we meet, to live by blessing, isn’t this true communion a love fest, a true love fest. This can still happen anywhere. Not everything is lost. This is how we are meant to live spiritually alive. Yes, we can all be lost at times, but it does not mean all is lost, we can soon be found.

Not everything is lost.

Last Saturday, evening I was talking with one of the regulars of “Colours of Grief”, she was utterly lost. Not necessarily with the grief that comes with death, more living grief. She was deeply lost within herself, so much so that she was finding it really difficult to connect with anything. She was almost in the same panicked state as the woman in Naomi’s poem. I walked her to her car when suddenly a British Bulldog appeared from out of the twilight. He ran straight towards me, jumping up my legs as dogs do. His tale was going like billy-ho

We instantly stopped our conversation and were consumed with concern for the dog. He had no collar and we wondered where the “ummer” he had come from. My friend suddenly forgot all her troubles and was focused purely on finding this lost dog’s home. My phone rang and I became distracted by another crisis. We searched around and noticed the gates of next doors house was open, so we approached and knocked on the door. A man answered and his wife and children came to the door. It was their dog “Buzby” who had got out. How on earth they hadn’t noticed is beyond me. They are new neighbours and I had not met them before. The dad did make me chuckle when he told me the dog’s name “Buzby, as in sir Matt”, he is obviously a Manchester United fan.

It was lovely to get the lost wandering dog home. What was equally so was the impact it had on my friend, how she responded to its needs, she suddenly wasn’t so lost herself in her troubles, it was beautiful to witness.

This all brought to mind a quote I often see posted on social media “Not all who wander are lost”, it comes from the “Lord of the Rings”. It is certainly true, just because someone is wandering aimlessly it doesn’t mean that they are lost, Buzby wasn’t he was just wandering round the neighbourhood, but he could have easily found his way back home, it was we who intervened. It also got me thinking that all who are lost do not necessarily wander. You can be lost in the most familiar of places, in the safest places, surrounded by loving company, as my friend had been. She was lost oh so deeply within herself. Somehow by helping Buzby find his way home, she found herself at home in herself once again. I admire my friend greatly as even though she doubts it she always seems to find her way back home despite her very real troubles.

Most folk are familiar with the phrase “The unexamined life is not worth living”. Socratres is reputed to have said it at his trial when he was found guilty of impiety and corrupting of the youth. He chose death rather than exile. For if he was in exile he would be unable to continue to examine life. As Socrates trusted his religious experiences such as his guiding “daimonic voice” he preferred to seek truth in the after-life, than to live a life not identifying the answer on earth. He would rather die than live an unexamined life.

It is vital to know ourselves, to be true to ourselves. Although the most important knowledge to know is that we are mortal, we are not God’s at least according to those great thinkers of ancient Greeks. To “Know thyself” is to know that you are mortal, you are not God.

So yes “The unexamined life is not worth living”, that said I have also found that that an over examined life can become stagnant. It is so easy to get lost in ourselves, so lost that we fail to live and find it impossible to engage with life fully. When this happens life can feel like it isn’t worth living. To quote good old Forrest church

..."an overexamined life is not worth living. I know that. some of you who come to me for couselling are so wrapped up in your own and your parents' underwear that I sometimes wonder if you will ever get out, if you will ever get naked. Just remember, you are not alone on the Titanic. we are all here together, on this extraordinary ship - different classes, yes, and not enough lifeboats - but when it comes to death there are never enough lifeboats. the ship is magnificent but one day it will sink. All hands will be lost.

This advice may return to haunt you, but I commend you to ignore life's dangers as readily as you protect yourself from them. Even as an overexamined life is not worth living, an overplanned life lacks wonder and sponteneity. The harder we work to get things exactly right, the more cautious we become, the more careful not to fail. Risking nothing, we stand to gain little beyond the security of battened-down existance. We miss the sea breeze and the ball. We will know little failure, or only little failures, but consider the cost. any sure thing is almost sure to be so carefully packaged that when we unwrap it, the size of the box will turn out to be so many times larger than the size of the gift that we cannot help but be dissapointed.”

We do not have to wander to feel lost, we do not have to step out into the wilderness, the unknown. It is just as easy to get lost in the most familiar, to be lost in ourselves, so much so that we fail to live. We are communal beings, we are in this together and do you know what we often only truly find ourselves in the love and service for one another, this it seems is where true meaning emerges. This is often where we truly find ourselves, our purpose.

We all feel lost and confused at times and we all find ways to help and encourage, to keep one another going. I love the wisdom of the greats, but they are not really my inspirations. It is the ordinary folk all around that I admire the most, that change my life. It was an ordinary man from Oldham that guided me when I was most lost, not Socrates or Frankl, Jesus or Gandhi, they have helped, but were not the real inspirations. I do not stand on the shoulders of giants. More ordinary folk, those that stumbled along a lot, those that fell many times, but rose again. They had no special wisdom or power, in fact they constantly messed up, they often failed. That said they were filled with love and courage, they were perfectly imperfect. They got up every time they fell, they kept on going and encouraged others to do so too. They helped others and each other to reach what seemed unreachable, they inspired others to do the same. When I am gone I hope that no one tries to stand on my shoulders, I am certainly no giant. I am more interested in walking shoulder to shoulder with others, inspiring each other, offering courage and bringing out the best in each other, just as Buzby did in the Twilight of last Saturday.

We all feel lost at times, but we can always be found again. No one needs to lead, nor does anyone have to follow. We all take our turn, just like those Canada Geese I love so much and their honking.

As Naomi wrote “And I looked around that gate of late and weary ones and I thought, this is the world I want to live in. The shared world.… This can still happen anywhere. Not everything is lost.”

I saw this once again last Saturday and I have been witnessing it all week. I have seen over and over again that when we feel lost we are found again through our shared interdependence, this is how we are sheltered and saved. My friend and “Buzby” the bulldog showed me that once again in the twilight last Saturday. All is not lost, faith, hope and love will always lead us home. This is the world in which we all share. “This can still happen anywhere. Not everything is lost.”

So, know yourself, know that you are mortal and know that no matter how different you might feel, how lost it all seems, no one is anymore lost than anyone else and no one is anymore different than anyone else.

Not everything is lost.

We all feel lost at times, it is important to accept this. The problem isn’t getting lost, we all get lost. The problem is in losing faith that you can be found once again. The key is how we live when we find ourselves lost. Do we close down and get lost deeper in our fear, or do we pause and reach out and ask for help from those loving forces that are all around whether visible or invisible.

Also when we see another lost, or hear their call. How do we respond? Do we stay lost in our own or others underwear or do we ourselves answer the call?

Not everything is lost. All is not lost. No one is ever truly lost, we can always find our way back home.

below is a video devotion based 

on the material in this "Blogspot"

“If you wonder while you wander then you are never lost”

 

From “Stay Curious: How Questions and Doubts Can Save Your Faith”

By Stephanie Williams O'Brien 

A thought-provoking exploration of the difference between wandering and wondering.

"If the wilderness wandering we read about in Scripture were reframed as a time of wonder, it would be an entirely different experience! I see the difference between wandering and wondering like this:

"Wandering is a coping mechanism of avoidance that tries to minimize what is uncomfortable.

"Wondering is an active pursuit of questions and a willingness to risk the tension in the unknown.

"Wandering is a way to steer clear of the stress that comes from a deep concern about the direction that might be best for you and others around you.

"Wondering is a heightened curiosity about God, yourself, others, and the world that, while often uncomfortable, is full of passion and intrigue.

"Wandering is motivated by fear, confusion, apathy, and an endless search for novelty.

"Wondering is motivated by passionate uncertainty about the mystery of God and the excitement that comes with discovery.

"Throughout the story, God was inviting a different approach. And God still offers that invitation to us — to take on a posture of wonder.

"Wonder that fuels our passion and leads to discovery. Wonder that pushes us to even deeper questions and away from pat answers. God is calling us not to satisfying contentment but to deeper meaning-making experiences — the kind of experiences that bring a community or a family closer together rather than further apart. The kind of journey that invites the courage to risk and squelches apathy.

"With questions propelling us along the way, we wonder through the woods rather than wander."

...I wonder while I wander...Will you come and wander with with me while I wonder my way through this little "blogspot"...

Like most folk I have felt like I’ve been wandering around in circles in the wilderness these last 12 months. Almost as if I haven’t been fully living in reality, as alive as I would want to be, my senses have been a little dulled. I have felt, to some degree, a little physically separate. So. I haven’t felt like I was wandering like the ancient Israelites did together, in community for forty years, with Good old Moses. That said I have not felt like I was in isolation either like Jesus enduring forty days of temptation. I have been connected and of course not completely alone but at the same time wandering around aimlessly, getting by, surviving, somehow not fully alive.

I went for a walk with this in my mind the other morning. I passed a speed limit sign that read max speed 40mph, this brought 40 into my mind. I asked myself why does the Bible always refer to the number 40? Well, the number 40 symbolises a period of test. It is referenced a total of 146 times in the Bible, in both the Jewish and Christian scripture. The last twelve months have been a test for so many of us and it is not over yet. This week brought good news of course. Death rates are falling as the vaccine continues to be rolled out and a road map out of the restrictions we have been living through is being drawn. It seems that we are tentatively heading towards life as we would like to live it. This will rightly be a slow process, not an overnight matter, but there is light at the end of the tunnel. The schools will be open again soon. We will begin to be able to socialise in small numbers outdoor, the gyms, hairdressers and eateries will begin to open. Who knows in a few months time we may all be able to sing together, although that is not going to happen this side of summer, I suspect. We are starting to slowly come out of the wilderness. Let us continue to tread carefully as we do so.

I’ve been thinking about the wild and the wilderness as I have found myself walking about again this Lent. I am taking a long daily walk, connecting in silence to life all around me. It is doing me a whole load of good. Of course it is helping me physically, as the gyms won’t be open for six or seven weeks. It is also helping me connect both inwardly and outwardly too. Walking alone is something I have done at different times in my life. As a child I would go off alone and almost live in a kind of bubble, I felt safe, but cut off in this state, it was so vital then. This was my childhood safe place. It disconnected me from a painful and frightening reality. As an adult it is a different feeling. These days it is about connecting ever more to reality. By doing so I connect to God both within myself and alive in reality. When I am out walking alone, I am not doing so as someone who feels lost and is looking to be found. Rather this is a time to wander and to wonder and thus feel connected.

Sometimes we can find ourselves utterly lost, even when in familiar surroundings. We can of course feel lost because our lives have had to be restricted and we do not know what to do with ourselves. Or that we have lost someone or something precious and we are drowning in grief.  There are other times when we can feel utterly lost within ourselves. This happens when we separate ourselves from what we know to be true, from that love at the heart of ourselves and the heart of life. When we have blinded ourselves to the light both within and without. I remember the feeling oh so well, when I walled myself in and I began to feel alone and utterly lost.

So, what do we do when we feel lost? Well sometimes we keep on wandering, round and round hoping to find the promised land, alive and awake attempting to learn from the experience, like the ancient Israelites did. Other times, the thing to do is to pause to stop wandering and begin to wonder instead. To loosen up, to lighten up, to be patient and to trust, to take a breath, to enter calm and quiet, to be open once again to let love reach in as well as pour out. As we do, we don’t feel as lost in the wild and instead of wandering aimlessly we begin to wonder with purpose.

This brings to mind a wonderful poem titled “The Way” by Edwin Muir

Friend, I have lost the way.
The way leads on.

Is there another way?
The way is one.

I must retrace the track.
It’s lost and gone.

Back, I must travel back!
None goes there, none.

Then I’ll make here my place –
The road runs on –

Stay here, forever stay.
None stays here, none.

I cannot find the way.
The way leads on.

Oh, places I have passed!
That journey’s done.

And what will come at last?
The way leads on.

Now of course sometimes when you feel lost you aren’t as lost as you think. What you are is actually in a place you would rather not be, or in a situation you would rather not be living through. I am sure we have all felt this at times these last 12 months, I know I have. This brings to mind a wonderful piece of wisdom form my old favourite Mulla Nasruddin

Nasruddin was sat on a river bank when someone shouted to him from the opposite side:

“Hey! how do I get to the other side?”

To which Nasruddin replied “You are on the other side!”

We are all on the other side of the river bank.

By the way I saw a delightful sight on the other side of the canal the other day. I saw a family walking with two dogs. One was a little Shih Tzu who was the spitting image of our little Charlie, walking side by side was a giant Saint Bernard. It was a wonderful and hilarious sight. I have been chuckling about it ever since. I would have missed it if I’d been lost in myself and not walking in the wilds of life. My mind has wondered about many scenarios about that little combination these last few days.

I digress.

Whether any of us like it or not, we all find ourselves on the wrong river bank at times, not knowing how to get to the side we would like to. We all find ourselves in an uncertain place, lost and without guidance. We all feel lost at times. Sometimes we need to just let our minds wander and begin to wonder. Sometimes those old tales help here. These stories have a way of revealing reality through their beautiful mystery.

In his meditation “The Spiritual Journey” David O Rankin names a few who have walked courageously through theirs. Stating:

“It is Moses leading the Jews through the desert of Sinai, and Jesus enduring the temptation in the wilderness of Israel, and Buddha seeking enlightenment along the dusty roads of India.

It is the glorious voyage of Odysseus in Homer’s Odyssey, the narrow paths through the circles of hell in Dante’s Inferno, and the confessions of the travellers in Chaucer’s Canterbury Tales.

It is the pilgrims sailing on the Mayflower, the settlers moving westward, being On the Road with Jack Kerouac, and spinning through a black hole in Kubrick’s 2001: A Space Odyssey”

We are all of us pilgrims on the sacred journey that is life and like so many of the more famous ones we think we have to go someplace else to discover our own Nirvana or to build the New Jerusalem. Just as the pilgrims on the Mayflower did in the seventeenth century. They believed that they had to travel a great distance to a new land to create their heaven on earth. Well, I have discovered that this is not necessary. You do not have to travel great distances to experience the beautiful journey and you do not need to travel great distances to build the New Jerusalem, it must be here, in our own hearts or nowhere. The “Kin-dom” of Love has to be built here or nowhere.

I suspect it’s the same about finding ourselves once again when we feel lost. Who or what do we listen to? Well, I am learning to listen to that inner voice, that light that shines bright within all of us. That spark of the Divine that is within everything. That which awakens the sense of my senses, that which guides me home no matter how lost I am and that which allows me to be at home wherever my feet are planted. That Kin-dom of Love, within me, within each of you and within everything.

Let love be our navigator it will always lead us home, to the place where we belong. Do not worry too much about feeling lost, we all feel that way at times.

The problem isn’t getting lost, we all get lost at times. The problem is in losing faith that you can be found once again. The key is how we live when we find ourselves lost. Do we close down and get lost deeper in our fear, or do we pause and reach out and ask for help from those loving forces that are all around whether visible or invisible. Sometimes all we need to do is stand still and listen, to what is both within us and without us, all around us. Sometimes you just need to sing with the blackbirds, they will always sing back to you and ever more sweetly. Sometimes you just need to follow the directions in this final poem “Lost” by David Wagoner. Just  “Stand still. The forest knows where you are. You must let it find you.”

"Lost" by David Wagoner

Stand still. The trees ahead and bushes beside you
Are not lost. Wherever you are is called Here,
And you must treat it as a powerful stranger,
Must ask permission to know it and be known.
The forest breathes. Listen. It answers,
I have made this place around you.
If you leave it, you may come back again, saying Here.
No two trees are the same to Raven.
No two branches are the same to Wren.
If what a tree or a bush does is lost on you,
You are surely lost. Stand still. The forest knows
Where you are. You must let it find you.