You can read it here.
And here's today's roundup.
"trust that our little lives will multiply themselves and be able to fulfill the needs of countless people....The fruitfulness of our little lives, once we recognize it and live it as the life of the Beloved, is beyond anything we ourselves can imagine. One of the greatest acts of faith is to believe that the few years we live on this earth are like a little seed planted in a very rich soil. For this seed to bear fruit, it must die. We often see or feel only the dying, but the harvest will be abundant even when we ourselves are not the harvesters. How different would our life be were we truly able to trust that it multiplied in being given away! How different would our life be if we could but believe that every little act of faithfulness, every gesture of love, every word of forgiveness, every bit of joy and peace will multiply and multiply as long as there are people to receive it...and that -- even then -- there will be leftovers!"
Smelling of sweet resin the Aleppo pines’ shadows grow taller by the hour. Two identical twin boys chase each other through the shadows, the one who’s ten minutes older yelling, I’m gonna kill you while the younger one laughs, Kill me, kill me if you can! Day by day these teatime mortars keep pecking at the blast wall that the boys have grown so used to they just keep right on playing. If they weren’t here in front of me, I’d find them hard to imagine, just as I sometimes find my own twin brother hard to imagine. I’m supposed to be doing a story on soldiers, what they do to keep from being frightened, but all I can think about is how Tim would chase me or I’d chase him and we’d yell, I’m gonna kill you, just like these brothers do, so alive in their bodies, just as Tim who is so alive will one day not be: will it be me or him who first dies? But I came here to do a story on soldiers and how they keep watching out for death and manage to fight and die without going crazy— the boys squat down to look at ants climbing through corrugated bark, the wavering antennae tapping up and down the tree reminding me of the soldier across the barracks sitting still inside himself, listening to his nerves while his eyes peer out at something I can’t see— when Achilles’ immortal mother came to her grieving son, knowing he would soon die, and gave him his armor and kept the worms from the wounds of his dead friend, Patroclus, she, a goddess, knew she wouldn’t be allowed to keep those same worms from her son’s body. I know I’m not his father, he’s not my son, but he looks so young, young enough to be my son—sitting on his bunk, watching out for death, trying to fight and die without going crazy, he reaches for his rifle, breaks it down, dust cover, spring, bolt carrier with piston, wiping it all down with a rag and oil, cleaning it for the second time this hour as shadows shifting through the pines bury him and the little boys and Tim and me in non-metaphorical, real life darkness where I’m supposed to be doing a story.This post contains a poem I wrote about Thetis a few years ago.
"I saw a great many bones on the floor of the valley, bones that were very dry. He asked me, "Son of Man, can these bones live?"As we live on this earth, we are surrounded by death. Right now many of us are overwhelmed with what I recently learned to call eco-anxiety, as we witness extinctions and the degradation of our environment taking place before our eyes. We see death in many other ways, too: we see people we love dying; we see dreams dying; we see evil winning. If I didn't believe in the resurrection, I wouldn't be able to go on. Because I do believe in it, I can.
Easter is more overwhelmingly awesome in a graveyard than in a shopping mall.
I urge you: Be where the bones are and breathe out all the life you have been given and watch them start to clatter and rattle...
"Behold, I make all things new."
Since this time last year, we've fallen off of some wagons, jumped on to some others. You got a raise or lost the money. You got drunk or sober, married or divorced. People were born, people died. Nothing could stop the rising. Your accomplishments didn’t speed him up, your failure didn’t slow him down. Love got up, in his own sweet time. Death was conquered. Maybe you don’t believe it. So? What you BELIEVE won’t make it more or less true. Resurrection is God's responsibility.Some people will go to Church & be "strangely warmed" today. Some will leave still disillusioned. Either way, THE WHOLE COSMOS CHANGED. Easter is good news for every blade of grass & every nursing home, every animal on a farm & every angry atheist, every cell & grain of sand. Life conquered death & there's not a thing we can do about it. Receive it as gift, doubt it, be wayward or devout-it's happened & happening. Resurrection is not an edict or summons, but an invitation to know the open secret humming beneath all created things-DEATH IS NOT THE END.Prayer: Firstborn of the dead,
we awake this morning to the astonishment of your resurrection. Our hearts have been heavy for too long. Let us be given over now, to the gut-busting joy of new life, unexpected gifts, the surprise of resurrection in the deadest places. We cannot understand how it happens, or what it means. But we do not come to you looking for explanations--we come hungry for joy, ready for awe, desperate for Easter hope. Baptize us in wonder again, risen God. Amen.
“The best thing for being sad," replied Merlin, beginning to puff and blow, "is to learn something. That's the only thing that never fails. You may grow old and trembling in your anatomies, you may lie awake at night listening to the disorder of your veins, you may miss your only love, you may see the world about you devastated by evil lunatics, or know your honour trampled in the sewers of baser minds. There is only one thing for it then — to learn. Learn why the world wags and what wags it. That is the only thing which the mind can never exhaust, never alienate, never be tortured by, never fear or distrust, and never dream of regretting. Learning is the only thing for you. Look what a lot of things there are to learn.”