light

A Song for the Season: Soft Light From a Stable Door

Steve · December 7, 2013 · 1 Comment

A little something special for the seasons of Advent and Christmas…I’m going to periodically through December post lyrics and audio recordings of songs from our Christmas CD produced a few years ago, Nathanael’s Creed’s “Home Again with You.”

[If you’re looking for stocking stuffers, the CDs are available for $15, which includes postage and handling. Drop me an email or send a check to: Steve Givens, 51 High Valley Dr., Chesterfield, Mo. 63017.]

First up is “Soft Light from a Stable Door,” a song based on a beautiful poem by the English poet Lilian Cox.

To listen, click here: Soft Light from a Stable Door

Soft Light from a Stable Door
Words by Lilian Cox
Music by Steve Givens & Jim Russell

Soft light from a stable door
Lies on the midnight lands;
The wise men’s star burns evermore,
Over all the desert sands.

To all peoples of the earth
A little Child brought light;
And never in the darkest place
Can it be utter night.

No flick’ring torch, no wav’ring fire,
But Light the Life of men;
Whatever clouds may veil the sky,
Never is night again.

To all peoples of the earth
Never is night again.
The wise men’s star burns evermore
Never is night again.
Soft light from a stable door
Never is night again.
Never is night again.
Never is night again.
Never is night…

–

The players

Guitar: Jim Russell
Lead vocals: Steve Givens
Keyboard: Phil Cooper
Percussion: Pat Dillender
Bass: Gerry Kasper
Background vocals: Phil Cooper, Pat Dillender, Jim Russell and Gerry Kasper

Today’s Word: Clarity

Steve · September 24, 2013 · 1 Comment

I enjoy technology, perhaps a little too much. It allows me to publish this blog, after all. And then there’s Facebook, where I keep up with all my “friends,” and Twitter where I share brilliant nuggets of wisdom 140 characters at a time. I buy music on ITunes and record my favorite TV shows with my DVR so I can watch them whenever I want. Like it or not, we live in a plugged-in world of constant messages and invasive images. We are surrounded on all sides by noise, pictures, news, knowledge and entertainment. None of these are bad things in and of themselves. But taken together, this ever-present media blitz can overtake our lives and block out any kind of an interior life or conversation with God. We try to find moments of prayer and attempt to catch glimpses of the divine, but images swirl in our heads and we have a hard time seeing the light of truth.

But moments of clarity are possible, even in the midst of a muddy, befuddled world. Instances of clear-blue reality sometimes cut through the clouds when we least expect it. A verse of scripture we have heard many times before offers us something new. We read the right book at just the right time. A song comes on the radio that seems sung for us alone. A conversation with a friend reveals a truth that had been hidden or ignored. Clarity. Truth. God moves through and in our lives all the time. Clarity comes with our awareness, with unplugging and paying attention, with allowing God to “show up” in our lives and speak.

Ask yourself in silence: What keeps me from seeing and hearing God with clarity? When was the last time I found a message from God in the words or actions of others?

Today’s Word: Night

Steve · September 12, 2013 · 2 Comments

Last night I spent the night as the only person in the Ignatius House Jesuit Retreat Center outside of Atlanta. I arrived in the evening so I would be ready to present a retreat today to a group of (what turned out to be) inspiring, incredibly open and courageous cancer patients, along with their supportive family and friends and some dedicated and equally inspiring caregivers and pastoral care workers. More on that tomorrow. But last night I found myself all alone in the big ole rambling place. “Sounds creepy,” said Sue and our daughter Jenny on the phone. But it was just the kind of silence and darkness that I needed. Night — especially a dark and quiet night out in the country — often gives focus to my prayer and pulls my thoughts to God more intensely because the dark and the silence block out the noise and light of the world. So I was not feeling creepy but, rather, deeply.

I wandered the halls a little. I sat in the small chapel for an hour and a half reading, praying and working on the next day’s talks. I sat out on a balcony and watched a spider spin a web. Midnight was approaching and I could have stayed up much later; would have if not for the knowledge that I had to get up early to begin my day. I reluctantly turned in, but not before offering a prayer to the Creator of the night — the artist of darkness and the composer of exquisite silence.

A Night Prayer

Under the veil of dark
I turn to you, Lord
To illuminate the night
To lighten my mind
To enlighten my soul
To recall my day
To find your movements
To begin to begin again
To anticipate tomorrow
To live in hope.

Ask yourself in silence: Do you find God in the darkness and quiet of the night? Do you take the time to review your day in the evening and prepare for the next day?

Today’s Word: Astonished

Steve · September 3, 2013 · 4 Comments

sunset2 — Sunset lesson on Captiva. SJG photo (As always, click on photo for a larger view...)

A few nights ago, watching the sunset on Captiva Island in southwest Florida, I witnessed a young mother teaching her son a most important lesson. As the sun was near setting, she drew the three- or four-year-old close and helped him be still long enough to see what was going on. While he is too young to understand that the sun is not actually sinking into the ocean, the beauty and awe of the moment was not lost on him. The lesson was not in vain because he couldn’t understand the science. He stood perfectly still next to her and didn’t move until the sun was gone. Her effort was worthwhile and may be remembered for many years to come. If nothing else, this young man may grow up to remember that his mother loved sunsets and first showed them to him.

But more importantly, he may grow up to be a man who knows that it’s important and okay to slow down, to stand still and to watch the sun slide into the ocean. It’s appropriate to gasp in exhileration when the world explodes in beauty before you. It’s right and just to fall on your knees and acknowledge that the Creator of everything likes to show off a little every night and paint the sky for our enjoyment. He may grow to be a man who was taught by his mother to look outside himself to find the real meaning in life. He may learn to see God in the beauty of a Florida sunset.

May we all remember what it’s like to be amazed by something we don’t fully understand. May we all pray the words of the New England poet Mary Oliver:

Let me
keep my mind on what matters,
which is my work,
which is mostly standing still and learning to be
astonished.

Ask yourself in silence: When was I last astonished?

Today’s Word: Lamp

Steve · August 8, 2013 · 2 Comments

Point Cabrillo Lighthouse, near Mendocino, California. SJG photo

“Your word is a lamp for my feet, a light for my path.” (Psalm 119:105)

Physically and metaphorically, we have lots of good sources of light in our lives. We flip switches and trust that the lamps will always come on. We awake each morning knowing that the sun will rise to illuminate the earth. Teachers and parents pass on the light of knowledge to their charges. Doctors, nurses and other healing professionals are led by the light of science to care for those in need. It’s no wonder that the creation story begins with: “Let there be light.” God knew — and continues to know —what we most need.

Light, in its many forms, uses and meanings, is perhaps God’s ultimate gift. Without it, we would literally and figuratively be in the dark, our lives only shadows and figures in fog. Spiritually, God lights our way through the darkness of our lives with his Word — with words of scripture left to light our paths, and with the ongoing presence and movement in our lives of Jesus, the Incarnate and living Word. Lamps for our bewildered feet.

Ask yourself in silence: Which lamps light my path? How much do I trust the living Word of God to show me the way through the darkness of life’s questions?