With that same tenderness and sense of wonder, the kind of tenderness and wonder only a gardener may have, he called Mary by name, inviting her into the unfolding of this story, awakening within her the wisdom of resurrection.
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With that same tenderness and sense of wonder, the kind of tenderness and wonder only a gardener may have, he called Mary by name, inviting her into the unfolding of this story, awakening within her the wisdom of resurrection.
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Now is the time to wander, bare soles to the soil, without the sure footing of shoes. To let all preconceived notions of who i thought i was, where i thought i was going fall away. Now is the time to find a bit of myself, a bit of my soul while getting lost out here in the desert. An ending, a death, a removal of my sure, shoed footing was necessary so that i could start to live.
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We all have experienced a loss of normal, and with that, an invitation (almost an urging) to unearth new ways of being in our world. Do we have the courage to wander into our own deserts to find what makes us truly human, wholly interconnected with Divine, with Wisdom, with Wild?
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The sages who compiled the wisdom literature of the Hebrew Bible and the prophets who lived in the desert wilderness knew how to discern the Living Wisdom from the natural world around them. Looking to nature to discern how we must live with one another in a way that reflects our Source is an ancient way of deep re-membering. Re-membering that Wild from which we emerged.
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Resting my hand on my now silent Friend, I feel swept up in the untamable seething anger breathing through the needles of these trees, and I have a vision of Woman Wisdom standing atop the hill’s crest unleashing Her cries.
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