Where are you turning for peace these days? It can feel elusive on a shifting path! In bonus Episode 149, Cynthia and Susan revisit an earlier conversation to compare notes and discuss things they’re still learning when it comes to the ongoing challenge of ‘making and doing’ personal peace.
Notes & Quotes:
The Crucible of Doubt: Reflections On the Quest for Faith, by Terryl L. and Fiona Givens
Making Peace: Personal Essays, by Eugene England
The Inspiring True Story Behind the LDS Hymn “Where Can I Turn for Peace?”, LDS Daily, 10/4/2016
Day 3 Mass Gathering – The Rev. Nadia Bolz-Weber | ELCA Youth Gathering, 7/3/2018
When Things Fall Apart: Heart Advice for Difficult Times, by Pema Chodron
Shades of Becoming: Poems of Faith Transition, Edited by Nancy Ross and Kristen R. Shill
Everything Belongs: The Gift of Contemplative Prayer, by Richard Rohr
NIV, The Woman’s Study Bible: Receiving God’s Truth for Balance, Hope, and Transformation, Edited by Dorothy Kelley Patterson and Rhonda Harrington Kelley
“One woman who had been through years of trial and sorrow said through her tears, “I have come to realize that I am like an old 20-dollar bill—crumpled, torn, dirty, abused, and scarred. But I am still a 20-dollar bill. I am worth something. Even though I may not look like much and even though I have been battered and used, I am still worth the full 20 dollars.” — Dieter F. Uchtdorf, You are My Hands
“No one longs for what he or she already has, and yet the accumulated insight of those wise about the spiritual life suggests that the reason so many of us cannot see the red X that marks the spot is because we are standing on it. The treasure we seek requires no lengthy expedition, no expensive equipment, no superior aptitude or special company. All we lack is the willingness to imagine that we already have everything we need. The only thing missing is our consent to be where we are.”
― Barbara Brown Taylor, An Altar in the World: A Geography of Faith
“Prayer is sitting in silence until it silences us.” — Richard Rohr
Geology Lesson
My faith is a stone so heavy
I cannot move it, angels must
roll it away. Sometimes
the tomb is empty
sometimes it guards its secret, alive
or dead—I cannot know.
My faith is a stone skipping lightly across seas,
if thrown just right.
Mossy faith, slick in the bottom of a ditch,
irrigation rushing over it, spreading life
to my rows of everything, and all
my planted seeds. The weeds
grow too. My faith dries out,
waits for its next turn.
Sometimes I fish it from my shoe,
begin to walk but find it underfoot again.
Faith clumsy as a rock, sized
for my pocket, pebble faith passed
one hand to another, mine
to mine to mine. Today I am set down,
tomorrow I’m picked up again.
This is all I’ve learned.
— Susan M. Hinckley
