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Raindrops keep fallin on my head
and that doesn’t mean my eyes will soon be turnin’ red.
Cryin’s not for me cause I’m never gonna stop the rain by complanin’ because I’m free… Because in Christ I am free.

Free to accept getting wet from the rain
Free to accept life and walk through its pain
Free to remain in Him and attain in Him the hope
That abides the darkest night, the hope that looks for the light
When there’s none I can see.
I’m free to be me, just me
Free to feel misery and ecstasy with equanimity
And regard those imposters equally.

In Christ I find peace that increases and never ceases

Except when I forget, hedge a bet, or get in a hurry
When the slings and the arrows come at me in a flurry
Like a cold cold rain. And I sink into worry.
I distract and delude myself trying to scurry
Around doing it myself.
Not accepting His help
Completely blind to how I put Him on the shelf.

Not willing to play out the cards I’ve been dealt
I complain. Curse the rain. And feign a campaign of control
Until His Grace smacks me upside the broadside of my soul

Until I set aside my ego and see so it’s better that He go
And steer my ship for a while. Or better yet, forever.
Then I can smile in any kind of weather.
I can welcome the rain. Accept the wet. Accept the death
Required for true life. Accept His Cross.
Welcome the loss.

See, God’s Will will be done whether I want it or not
So Christ, help me want what I already got
Rather than jonesing to get what I want
Reveal to me the blessings I can’t seem to spot
Without a lot
of your Grace.

Please free me from noisy desires that still taunt me
Please free me from nagging temptations that haunt me
Please free me from the conceit that I’m too good
To suffer a little defeat when I know You would
Die for me and rise to be my shelter for eternity.

By walking thru the pain with Him, ultimately I gain with Him. And I can remain with Him.

Where I can be…Free. Nothing’s worrying. Me.

Goofy Hannah

Originally uploaded by codyandheidiclark

Don’t step out of line with your old man, Girlzilla. Honor your father and mother, or imagine a banner-sized version of this beauty at your wedding reception.

Oh yes, you know I would…..

Head Shot

Originally uploaded by codyandheidiclark

Yes, I think it is. Rather depressing. At least I know Heidi must love me for my heart and not my money or my looks.

bigsmilesatchristmas

Originally uploaded by codyandheidiclark

Heidi is every bit as warm and loving as she looks. Even Gracie has to smile when momma’s got her.

Aaron

Originally uploaded by codyandheidiclark

Mr. Freshpants, or Fresh in recent years, is eight now. He’s a deeply felt little guy. All boy, awkward, hyper, jubilant. Has come a long way as he was a drug baby too. We had him since almost birth but we adopted him when he was two.

Gracie looks back

Originally uploaded by codyandheidiclark

Gracie is 6 years old, going on fourteen. All her best photos are of her looking serious. She was born with drugs in her system. We adopted her in her second year.

Hannah all Artsy

Originally uploaded by codyandheidiclark

Girlzilla is on the verge of being grown up at sixteen. She’s our birth child. She singlehandedly prepared us for the chaos of having four children. Now she helps us care for them.

Olivia Toothy

Originally uploaded by codyandheidiclark

She was born weighing just 17 ounces. She’s still a skinny little sprout. But she’s endlessly exuberant. We adopted her in 2005 during her first year.

I was listening to my daily payer podcast, courtesy of the Jesuits at Pray As You Go, and I heard something familiar. The words of the meditation song were the same as the meditation sung by my best man at our wedding twenty years ago. But it was some other arrangement, not the Ralph Vaughan Williams melody I was familar with. This made me smile, and I started trying to sing the old tune I knew.

Later, Heidi called me on her way out to class. “Did you listen to the prayer podcast this morning? Anything sound familiar?” So we shared a quick moment.

It makes some great poetry. Better when sung. I wish my voice were in shape enough to do this justice. Anyway, here it is.

Come My Way, from The Call, by George Herbert

Come, my Way, my Truth, my Life:
Such a way as gives us breath;
Such a truth as ends all strife,
Such a life as killeth death.

Come, my Light, my Feast, my Strength:
Such a light as shows a feast,
Such a feast as mends in length,
Such a strength as makes his guest.

Come, my Joy, my Love, my Heart:
Such a joy as none can move,
Such a love as none can part,
Such a heart as joys in love.

As of this evening, Heidi and I will have been married for twenty years.

Twenty. Freaking. Years. Woohoo!

So, big night tonight, huh? We should have some big stuff planned, right?

Hmmm… Well… we’ll go to dinner. We’re planning a getaway weekend for later this month. Sounds kind of ho-hum.

This was bothering me today in thought (or prayer. potayto-potahto) until it hit me — this anniversary thing is too big to fit into one day. I have trouble (and not enough money for) coming up with some sort of ostentatious event/present that can do twenty years of marriage justice in one day. I mean, it’s not just our anniversary, it’s the 20th birthday of our entire family!

So, I declare a Jubilee Year. Yeah, that’s it. We’re going to celebrate for an entire freaking year. I’m thinking a getaway vacation for Heidi and I. A big road trip vacation for the fambly. A blow-out family jubilee birthday party. A ten year vision, a time capsule, a jubilee garden in the backyard — the possibilities are endless. Lots of ways to celebrate.

So that’s what we’ll talk about tonight. Kickoff the Jubilee year at some trendy Houston Eatery like Reef.

Happy Anniversary, Baby.

I got one of those patriotic emails in my inbox today. This one had a Jeff Foxworthy-esque list of things that make you a “True American.” I guess I should be encouraged that one of my acquaintances sees me as a “True American” type.

I get a fair number of these emails since I am a religious type, which brands me for a certain type of communication, which I usually delete. But this morning it occurred to me that this kind of email — an electronic mainfestation of the collective ego of my peer group — is actually a gift.

These emails draw lines between “Us vs. Them.” Or, more accurately, they point out the lines that are already drawn in our group’s culture.

Kind of like pointing out a downed power line. Step carefully. Avoid the line.

So instead of deleting the email, which is usually the most prudent course, I replied. Mainly because the upcoming feast of Epiphany makes this an impromptu catechetical opportunity. So I said:

“This reading was very helpful in drawing that important line between “Un-true Americans” and the rest of us. Now that we see the “Us vs. Them” line, we can be quite deliberate in stepping over it.

You see, I just got done with a Bible Study where we discussed the readings for this Sunday — the Epiphany of the Lord. What hit me most is that, of all the various manifestations in the Gospels — the baptism, the wedding at Cana, the transfiguration — this one is presented first.

Epiphany establishes Jesus first and foremost as a universal savior to all the nations, not just the “True Jews.” Good thing for us, huh? Everyone is an “Us,” nobody is a “Them.”

I identify with a lot of the items below and maybe qualify as a “True American.” But Jesus came for all people. And I guess He would probably hang out with the “Un-true Americans” more than the “True Americans.”

If we want to embrace Christ, then we have to embrace what he came for. So I figure we need to cross that line, find some “Un-true Americans,” and go love them.

Something to pray about. Thanks.”

If I want to get better at loving across the lines that I live behind, I need to be more aware of where I have drawn those lines. Or see the ones that have been drawn for me that I never question.

I am reading a Pema Chodron book about embracing/conquering fear called “The Places That Scare You.” It’s all about crossing such lines over into the things you fear. She describes the “bodhisattva warrior,” someone who runs across those lines, armed with loving kindness and compassion, to embrace pain, discomfort, and suffering for the sake of others. Jesus, for sure, was such a “bodhisattva warrior.”

I want to be one when I grow up. Well, really it’s more like, I want to want to be one when I grow up. The idea is nice, but the reality scares me. But one of the first steps to getting there is to realize where those places are that scare me. Where the unfamiliar, uncomfortable, painful things lie. Beyond the lines I draw to keep me safe. The same lines I need to step over.

The magi of Matthew’s Gospel crossed lots of lines across foreign lands to seek Jesus. So this year, for me, the Feast of Epiphany is about crossing lines into unfamiliar, uncomfortable places. To follow Jesus.

All this from patriotic spam. Another Christmas gift.

Yes, but I’m back at work. Sort of. The family is downstairs exploring, and in some cases, destroying, the Christmas loot. And I am up in the office trying to get a process control plan written. It’s hard to concentrate. Hence the blog entry.

Another Christmas of abundance. Lots of cool stuff that still needs to be explored. Not enought time yet to fully experience and comprehend the gifts. Grandparents scored big time by bringing the kids a Wii and that is going to get lots of air time. We also got one of those XO laptops via the OLPC Give 1 Get 1 program. (Yeah, I was one of the “first day” donors, so we got one in time for Christmas.) I can see lots of potential in this — my ADD son spent about 40 undirected minutes exploring it yesterday morning, which is encouraging. But it’s gonna take some learning on my part to be able to show him how to really take it out for a spin. More exploring, learning, comprehending the potential of the gifts.

I’m glad its part of the design that Christmas is a season, not just a day. A good gift unfolds its benefit, its significance in the fullness of time. Mary and Joseph, I’m sure, could not fully grasp the gift of their baby Jesus, not after just one day. They too needed time to fully comprehend what they had there. What kind of gift this was.

I’ve said before tha December 26th is my favorite day of Christmas. It is the day after the bustle dies. The first day to be quiet and settle in with the new blessings that Christmas brings. The first chance to let the importance of what has been exchanged sink in, to let quiet joy take over the excitement of newness.

I am excited about having an XO laptop computer for my kids to use. It is definitely designed just for little people. I know they don’t understand what they have yet, but do any of us really?

I got a copy of this story in my email inbox. This story touched me even though I am no martial artist. So much stuff comes in with my email that represents to-dos and unwanted come-ons that it is nice to receive a little pearl now and then.

And then in my search to find examples of the anecdote on the web somewhere, I ran into Pensieve, the blog of what looks to be a kindred spirit. Another little pearl.

This is all that I miss about blogging when I am not into it regularly. My contacts from my previous blogging years have all but dried up. My comments are basicaly only spam. My site traffic comes from chance encounters from online searchers. But I still keep this blog — to exchange Little Graces, like pearls among the stones.

It’s about that time of year. John Coltrane recorded “A Love Supreme” on December 9th, 1964 and left the world one of the greatest musical recordings ever in any genre, any decade.

I’ve been thinking about him for the last couple of weeks ever since we had this prayer session in adoration at Church. We had about 40 guys all in the chapel and the prayer leader had arranged to play some spiritual music for our reflection. Personally, I prefer silence in adoration, but I especially did not jibe with the schmaltzy orchestral religio-kitsch he chose for this 20 minute period.

I began to wonder, “Wouldn’t Jesus like to hear something updated for a change? Something good, something not churchy, something with a beat, perhaps?” There is quality music out there that gives glory to God regardless of whether it is “Christian.” And then I though of Coltrane. Jesus definitely does not get to hear enough of John Coltrane. And what would be a better selection for adoration than “A Love Supreme?”

I’m going to give it try one night. I have the midnight hour tonight by myself. Maybe I’ll bring my own tunes…

Meanwhile, here is the eponymous poem he wrote in his liner notes for “A Love Supreme.”

A Love Supreme

I will do all I can to be worthy of Thee O Lord.
It all has to do with it.
Thank you God.
Peace.
There is none other.
God is. It is so beautiful.
Thank you God. God is all.
Help us to resolve our fears and weaknesses.
Thank you God.
In You all things are possible.
We know. God made us so.
Keep your eye on God.
God is. He always was. He always will be.
No matter what…it is God.
He is gracious and merciful.
It is most important that I know Thee.
Words, sounds, speech, men, memory, thoughts,
fears and emotions — time all related…
all made from one…all made in one.
Blessed be His name.
Thought waves — heat waves-all vibrations –
all paths lead to God. Thank you God.
His way…it is so lovely…it is gracious.
It is merciful — thank you God.
One though can produce millions of vibrations
and they all go back to God…everything does.
Thank you God.
Have no fear…believe…thank you God.
The universe has many wonders. God is all.
His way…it is so wonderful.
Thoughts–deeds–vibrations, etc.
They all go back to God and He cleanses all.
He is gracious and merciful…thank you God.
Glory to God…God is so alive.
God is.
God loves.
May I be acceptable in Thy sight.
We are all one in His grace.
The fact that we do exist is acknowledgement
of Thee O Lord.
Thank you God.
God will wash away all our tears…
He always has…
He always will.
Seek Him everyday. In all ways seek God everyday.
Let us sing all songs to God.
To whoma all praise is due…praise God.
No road is an easy one, but they all
go back to God.
With all we share God.
It is all with God.
It is all with Thee.
Obey the Lord.
Blessed is He.
We are from one thing…the will of God…
thank you God.
I have seen Godd–I have seen ungodly–
none can be greater–none can compare to God.
Thank you God.
He will remake us…He always has and He
always will.
It is true–blessed be His name–thank you God.
God breathes through us so completely…
so gently we hardly feel it…yet,
it is our everything.
Thank you God.
ELATION–ELEGANCE–EXALTATION–
All from God.
Thank you God. Amen.

Oh Please, what’s the big deal? I am already tired of the Christian protest spam I am getting against the faux threat of the children’s movie “The Golden Compass.” Much ado about not much.

There’s more subversive, damaging material in one violent summer blockbuster or teen sex comedy than in the entire Body of Phillip Pullman’s work. He may wish to “Kill God,” but it’s the wrong God he’s trying to kill. He may want to subvert the Church, but the Church he thinks he’s subverting is the wrong Church. Church done wrong, something all should be against. A teddy bear named “Jesus” would be more threatening than this movie.

I’ve never been in league with the Catholic League. I’m more inclined to agree with the reviewer for the US Conference of Catholic Bishops:

Will seeing this film inspire teens to read the books, which many have found problematic? Rather than banning the movie or books, parents might instead take the opportunity to talk through any thorny philosophical issues with their teens.

Yeah, let me be the one to “protect” my children from evil atheist subversion, please.