Eeper Lite
Sweet and digestible little snacks from the maker of Eeper (www.netanya.wordpress.com)
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Icon of St. Francis, painted in dark, milk, and white chocolates, plus caramel for flesh tones and Twix wrappers as background. By Robin Zimmerman.
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Christ with me, Christ before me, Christ behind me,
Christ in me, Christ beneath me, Christ above me,
Christ on my right, Christ on my left,
Christ when I lie down, Christ when I sit down, Christ when I arise,
Christ in the heart of every man who thinks of me,
Christ in the mouth of everyone who speaks of me,
Christ in every eye that sees me,
Christ in every ear that hears me.St. Patrick -
Can I cut these wires? Plant some explosives? Spring a leak? Shut it all down, pack it all up, say Peace, I’m going to Mykonos?
I feel my heart throwing up defenses all around it, pretending like it’s a stone. It’s my heart’s way of playing possum, when I don’t know what to do and it’s all too much—go limp, go cold, draw inward, plan your escape.
But then what? I sail off into the sunset, alone and content? Yeah right. This little lonely possum heart will eventually open one eye, then the other, and hope that everything is right where I left it.
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A friend posted this as his FB status today, and it made me think of how many beautiful lessons I’ve learned from St. Francis (and those inspired by him) over the past year…
Last summer when I went to Assisi, my favorite part was the Hermitage, a rustic monastery nestled in the peaceful woodlands on the hills above the town. I could see why St. Francis liked to go up there to pray. The picture above is a statue there, of Francis kicking back on the ground, gazing at the clouds. That’s when I decided I really like him. I remember hearing the following prayer for the first time last winter, and I think I need to carry it around with me…
Lord, make me an instrument of your peace.
Where there is hatred, let me sow love.
Where there is injury, pardon,
Where there is doubt, faith,
Where there is despair, hope,
Where there is darkness, light,
Where there is sadness, joy.
O Divine Master, grant that I may not so much seek
to be consoled as to console,
not so much to be understood as to understand,
not so much to be loved, as to love;For it is in giving that we receive,
it is in pardoning that we are pardoned,
it is in dying, that we awake to eternal life.
Amen.
—attributed to St. Francis of Assisi (1181-1226) -
Peanut butter bacon cookies, courtesy of Joy the Baker. Not to be confused with me, Joy the writer/student who likes to bake. Making these tomorrow for coworkers, and I think I’m already feeling shame over licking the buttery, sweet and savory dough out of the bowl. Perfect time for a little “it’s-the-holidays” shrug and a sheepish smile.
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…the presence of God: he picked me up and swung me like a bell. I saw the trees on fire, I rang a hundred prayers of praise.Annie Dillard, “Tickets for a Prayer Wheel”
