The Beauty Of Your Peace

Breakfast

In these last few months I have Stopped Doing Some Things. In an effort to get back to center, away from the extreme edges of what seems to be a tenuous grip on a balanced life, I have peeled some of The Things I Do away from The Person I Am.

So I am no longer defined by my work as a piano teacher.

I am no longer obsessively working every waking moment.

I am no longer existing on a scant five hours of sleep.

I am no longer trying to be somebody else, some amalgamation of a Highly Successful Ministry Leader Musician With A Family.

Stripped of some of these things, which seem so simple and easy tossed aside (but which, in fact, are not), what am I?

Well, we are all on that journey, I suppose. I have no definitive answer. Yet.

I am not so busy. I am calm. I am not so anxious. I have peace. I am not so frustrated. I am centered.

And there is this: I am seeing. I am making every effort to be present in the moments of life, and rather than a trite mantra designed to make me feel better about living a valuable, worthwhile life in the midst of chaos, I am seriously taking the time to do it. Not just say it.

This Sunday, we will close our worship service with these words:

Take from our souls the strain and stress
And let our ordered lives confess
The beauty of your peace


I discovered today that those lyrics are rooted in a poem called The Brewing of Soma by Quaker poet John Greenleaf Whittier. Funny; I felt deeply the power of the words as we rehearsed Finding out that this contemporary tune is wrapped in verse written over 120 years ago elongates the experience. I had no idea - but somehow, I knew.  There was power there far beyond the simple harmony and melody line.

Somehow, my soul knew.

I am seeing more, these days. Simple things. A long line of truth that I intuitively understand. Something that speaks internally.

This is working. I am blessed.

Hallelujah.

Simple things. Eggs.