"A disciple once came to Abba Joseph, saying, 'Father, according as I am able, I keep my little rule, my little fast, and my little prayer. And according as I am able, I strive to cleanse my mind of all evil thoughts and my heart of all evil intents. Now, what more should I do?' Abba Joseph rose up and stretched out his hands to heaven, and his fingers became like ten lamps of fire. He answered, 'Why not be totally changed into fire?'"
This, this, is what I want. To be flame. Pure light. I want it in my writing. I want it in my relationships with other people. I want it in my home. I want it in my heart and mind, in my breathing in and breathing out. I want it to be so much who I am that I am not even aware of its being so.
Christ in us. His promise, and He says He will complete what He has begun in us. That's the only reason I dare hold to any hope at all of it ever being so, audacious as that hope seems.
5 comments:
One of my strongest "life symbols" (don't know what else to call it) is that of light. Even if that weren't what my name (Lucinda) meant, I think it would still be so. Light fascinates, draws, gives hope, burns, blinds, is glorious.
No wonder Christ is the light of the world and the world didn't know him. Too bright to be comprehended.
Two songs come to mind: "Come on Baby Light my Fire" (entirely unappropriate), and "This Little Light of Mine"(a bit juvenile, I admit, but that is the world I live in right now). Lucinda- what a beautiful name. I knew a girl named Cindy- short for Cynthia, hadn't occured to me about Lucinda- anyone ever call you Lu, Lucy? I like Lucy too.
Bub--I was stunned when I read your words. Thank you very much. I will tuck this away in my heart to treasure on peek at when times get dark. :::sniff, sniff:::
It's almost enough to make me regret promising to break your finger (not threatening--PROMISING) and laying upon you the Curse of the Bellybutton God and tricking you into (:::momentariliy imcapacitated with giggling even as I type:::) taking that spoonful of vanilla extract and getting you to try eating rocks dipped in mud because I told you they were candy and. . .
Oh, the good times we've had! :D
:::sobering::: I have much to repent for. It was just all so much fun, you understand. . . :::attempting properly mournful expression:::
Joyella--About the juvenile thing. My girls are 10 and 7. I understand. :) About the name thing. . .My family and most friends call me Cindy; one friend calls me Lu; another very dear one calls me LuCindy--a childhood "fun" name resurrected in college. I used to have an uncle who called me Lucy because he knew it irritated the life out of me--I despised Lucille Ball's Lucy. Then I found C.S. Lewis's "The Chronicles of Narnia", and fell in love with the heroine of "Room with a View", and now Lucy is a beautiful name to me. :) But no one calls me that but me, in my head, when I'm being smart with myself. ;)
LuCindy -- remember the passage in the tenure essay I wouldn't let you touch? It seems I am always being drawn back to and reminded of the moth passage from Holy the Firm. To be emptied entirely of all but the shell of our being and filled with His light . . . "if I can't be a nun for Julie Norwich, still I can be a moth channeling my measure of candlelight through the surrounding darkness." What to do with this one and precious life? Let His light flame through it.
So easy to say. So hard to do, especially when it's raining outside and there's a basketball game you want to go to (your boys in position for first place in the conference and students begging you to come) but you've really got to grade the homework from the grammar class since they've been so patient for weeks now and then there's the matter of the boy's spelling test you can't let him off from and THERE'S NO CHOCOLATE IN THE DESK DRAWER!
I'll be better tonight, I promise. There's chocolate at home. :)
Thanks for reminding me again of the need to be aflame -- I needed it today.
alaiyo
Alaiyo--I love that image of Dillard's, too. Yes. It's so hard to remember that light flares in all the little "drudgeries" of the day. Eyes. We need eyes!!! Thank you for writing here. Your words, as usual, are an encouragement.
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