Yesterday morning I left home early enough to catch a perfect spider web spun across the width of my road. Lit with morning sunshine, the dew sparkled on its many spokes like a million tiny lights. The intricate detail was lost on me as I drove right through it. In fact, I didn’t even notice it. It wasn’t until I pulled into the parking lot that a vision of the unspoiled web popped into my head and I realized what I had done.
Continue reading →Author: colleen arnold
Colleen Arnold is a family physician, widow, mom and freelance writer living in Lexington, Va.
A Walking Meditation
I walk a lot. Up and down my hilly road, on the trail behind my house, on trails through the Blue Ridge Mountains – even in circles around my dining room table when I can’t get outside. Walking calms my mind and exercises my body, but it can also soothe my soul. I know a lot of us are walking even more in these days of closed gyms and social isolation, so here’s an idea for turning those walks into moments with God.
If you are on a time limit, set the timer on your watch or cell phone to three minutes for each of the sections. If you’re not on a strict schedule, just allow each part of the meditation to spontaneously conclude on its own.
Introduction: Start your walk simply by inviting God to show you His creation. Thank Him for this specific time together. Stand still for a minute and take a few deep breaths to clear your head and engage your body. Then start walking at a comfortable pace.
Continue reading →God…and Fireworks… in the Mess
We love celebrating New Year’s Eve with fireworks, but our tradition almost didn’t happen the year Jordan was born.
The weather was exceptionally cold, and tiny sleet crystals fell off and on throughout the day. An ice-crusted blanket of snow covered everything in sight. It was too cold for the girls and I to go outside, and there was nowhere clear enough for Neil to set off fireworks.
Jordan was only three days old and Jackie not yet two years, both too young to know what they were missing. But Gina was seven, already well acquainted with the tradition, and disappointed to give it up just because the weather was bad.
“Please, Daddy,” she begged. “There’s got to be something you can do!”
After mulling it over, Neil did what any dedicated dad would do, and came up with a plan. He decided to set the fireworks off on our deck.
He spent the late afternoon in preparation. He chopped ice off the railings and threw it overboard. He shoveled a path down the middle of the deck and salted it to minimize sliding. He made sure the windows were clear of winter dirt and dragged away any potentially flammable outdoor obstacles.
Once darkness fell, Neil pressed the oversized living room chair against the French doors and settled me in the middle with the baby nuzzled asleep in my lap. He perched Jackie and Gina on piles of fluffy blankets and excitedly revealed his plan. Bundled up like the Michelin Man, he headed outside.
Continue reading →A Common Language
The medical team hiked up the mountain, then cautiously across the narrow ridge. Donkeys carried our supplies, stepping tentatively in the worn path that extended as far as I could see. The sea sparkled in the distance without any hint of the pollution and trash that cluttered it.
The drab brown grey of the barren slopes gradually gave way to scraggly vegetation and tiny houses with drapes for front doors. The scrawny dogs and goats watched us trek by, and an occasional brave Haitian peeked out from the open-air windows.
Eventually a small village came into view in the distance at the crest of the trail. The vegetation increased: lush greens, tropical flowers, bananas, sugar cane, even a few small grapefruit trees. The people increased, too: a few working in their tiny gardens or washing clothes on rocks in puddles. It felt like we had traveled back in time. No running water, no bathrooms, no electricity. When we finally hiked into the center of the village, the sun was sinking in the sky. This was the village of Bon Se Jou.
Continue reading →The Raising of Lazarus
Dear friends, if our churches were open this weekend, many of us would hear the Gospel about the raising of Lazarus. It is one I’ve reflected on often, and I’d like to share one of my meditations on it with you.
Just click below and let the Holy Spirit guide you. Share it with as many people as you think need it, and if you can’t get it to work, shoot me an email and I’ll send it to you directly
PS: If you see this on Facebook, it crossed over automatically. I gave up social media for Lent so I won’t see your comments there – leave them here instead so I am sure to get them!