Friday Five: Rivers in the Desert

As posted at RevGalBlogPals:

"I am about to do a new thing; now it springs forth, do you not perceive it? I will make a way in the wilderness and rivers in the desert." Isaiah 43:19, NRSV

As we near the end of the long journey toward Easter, a busy time for pastors and layfolk alike, I ponder the words of Isaiah and the relief and refreshment of a river in the desert.

For this Friday Five, name five practices, activities, people or _____ (feel free to fill in something I may be forgetting) that for you are rivers in the desert.



1. Since my day started with a car accident (I am physically fine, emotionally a wreck-thank you), I am reminded again about the role of chance in my life. 10 years ago I went by chance to a certain physical therapist who became one of my best friends and the Godmother to our son. Today, within one hour of the accident I called her to ask if I could borrow her second vehicle knowing full well that she would say yes. This woman has been a rock of stability, a voice of reason, a rollerblading pal, and an embodiment of grace in my life. If anyone could ever get me to convert to Roman Catholicism it would be her just because she so completely lives her faith.

2. Speaking of rollerblading. The wind, being outdoors, going fast! Speed, the white water river in the desert.

3. My husband. As much as he drives me crazy, and he does, he can still make me laugh. Always.

4. Knitting.

In the book "Beginning to Pray" the author tells an elderly woman who has not learned to let God have a place to get a word in to her prayers to take her knitting and for 15 minutes each day knit before the face of God. He forbids her to say one word of prayer and tells her to just knit and try to enjoy her room. She does this and says, "I remembered that I must knit before the face of God, and so I began to knit. And I became more and more aware of the silence. The needles hit the armrest of my chair, the clock was ticking peacefully, there was nothing to bother about, I had no need of straining myself, and then I perceived that this silence was not simply an absence of noise, but that the silence had substance. It was not absence of something but presence of something. The silence had a density, a richness, and it began to pervade me. The silence around began to come and meet the silence in me. All of a sudden I perceived that the silence was a presence. At the heart of the silence there was He who is all stillness, all peace, all poise."

5. Rite 2 liturgy. I love the language of my church. It is rich, intelligent, poetic and familiar.