The first fresh days of the new year are unfolding into deeper ones and I want to be here within them, but I feel enclosed in almost a continual house of mourning so far this year. I feel grateful to be alive in this glowing and abundant world, everyday I really do feel that thrill, but it also has been tempered by loss. It has made it difficult to write, yet writing feels even more important now.

What a day when my face hurts from laughter listening to Selah’s Gaelic accent or when Danny’s sweet face beams with unadulterated joy as he tells me how many chapters he’s now conquered in his first reading of The Hobbit. What a day when my beloved friend, Mike, passes through the thin veil separating us and eternity…or does it?

Selah’s face, Danny’s face, Mike’s face…they all feel so present as I write to you, though they are not with me here and now. Presence, what a thing to try to grasp. Maybe it is simply better to enjoy and behold, maybe that is grasping. Maybe even eternity begs to be beheld and that’s part of why a face can bring so much joy and why its departure hurts so bad, maybe if we stop and see, really see —the fresh unfolding— we can cherish the what. follows.

Reminds me of how the ancient Israelites named the bread that fell fresh from heaven “what’s it”. They didn’t know what it was, but it came every day, repeatedly, faithfully, so it was right that it should be named. We should name things, even when we don’t understand its presence.

“To alter our inner state we need to modify our surroundings. That is the function of ritual.”
-Ismar Schorsch

Abraham Joshua Heschel once wrote that the purpose of ritual and tradition is the ability to look through their window in order to truly see everything else. As for me, I have often feared tradition to the point that I rejected containing or cultivating any internal apparatus to see, I have only been at sea.

I enjoy a conversation with my husband, Jay, considering all the ways the story of presence repeats like a refrain, reflected through the story of creation. The Creator gave a mirrored image to mankind and then again to Moses in the burning bush. Though it was different that time, that non-consuming fire was meant to be understood as the very presence of the Creator of all spheres. But how could that reminder end there? Presence never ends, so neither can the reminders.

The burning bush is calling out as a visual reminder through the lit-up-seven-branched-tree to be in the sanctuary of God, the menorah. On Mt. Sinai, more fire. His tradition of presence is fire, but as for me, I have often feared tradition to the point that I rejected containing or cultivating any internal apparatus to see, I have only been at sea.

will you stay with me
when I forget you’re there
will you still love me
when my love lingers elsewhere?

i hear you softly speaking
secrets that enclose
words that softly linger
with sweet repose

and I will never leave you
leave you waiting ’round
’cause I’m the one whose been waiting
for you to turn around

how can i contain you
when you contain everything?
the house of my soul is far too small,
but still I must sing

i hear you softly speaking
secrets that enclose
words that softly linger
with sweet repose

and I will never leave you
leave you waiting ’round
cause I’m the one whose been waiting
for you to turn around

enclosed by you
in close I see
i am in you
you are in me

Enclosed by You, Josh White and Josh Garrels

“How can i contain You, when You contain everything? The house of my soul is far too small, but still I must sing.” These are the words that won’t let me go lately. What joy there is to find, even in the house of mourning.

Richard Wurmbrand (founder of The Voice of the Martyrs) once pointed out how Psalm 109:4 in Hebrew plainly reads, “I am prayer”. This reminds me of the faithful bard Rich Mullins. So often as I read the Psalms, I’ll hear one of Rich’s lyrics float through, and I’ll recognize that the psalms were so in Rich that the psalms had to come out of Rich, expounded upon by his life language. In other words, Rich was prayer.

I want to be prayer. I want to be faith-full. The Hebrew word for prayer is tefillah and the Hebrew word for faithful is emunah. I’ve been pondering how they are connected. What can we learn from one to better understand the other?

As I have studied to better understand prayer over the years, one of the resources I have centered myself upon was the prayer cycles of the first followers of Messiah Jesus (Yeshua). What a wild ride it has been to try to grasp the essence that they belonged to not only The Way, but a way.

Upon discovering not only could we have an idea of what they prayed but even when they prayed each day my interest was piqued, all while my self-awareness of my own lack of discipline and fear of tradition immediately raised an eyebrow!

The first followers of Yeshua were an all-Jewish sect of Judaism up until the beginning of the second century. The way of their Master and expression of faith was a well-oiled-machine. There were morning prayers, afternoon prayers and evening prayers. There were prayers upon waking, after meals and upon seeing something wonderful for the first time. There was a way they belonged to, and The Way was faithfulness. Emunah.

“Do not let kindness and truth leave you;
Bind them around your neck,
Write them on the tablet of your heart.” -Proverbs 3:3

When we read that Paul writes, “Rejoice always; pray without ceasing; in everything give thanks” it begins to make sense how and what he may have had in mind for this to be carried out when we learn that there were continual blessings and prayers to join in. Even one of the meanings behind blessings, brachot in Hebrew, is a branching out, an extension, a fruitfulness, a faithful multiplication. 

Without much community to join in this kind of continual prayerfulness with, my family has eagerly yet feebly sought to catch even a glimpse of what kind of way we could find forward through prayer if we tried to learn the way Yeshua gave his first disciples as well as the way they were already found within. There has been a prayer in my heart for us to be enclosed, wrapped, engraved, embraced in these ways so that we too could be prayer. Tefillah.

When the children of Israel had eaten and were satisfied, the Scriptures said, do not forget the Lord…Do not forget who made you, who brought you here, bless His name.

Today I am mourning the loss of a great friend to me and my family, an amazing light in this world. When I imagine his life like a picture I see a table in my mind’s eye, and it is full of goodness to share. There stands Mike, welcoming as many as would come. Mike was prayer. And now He knows it better than ever. He has shared his bread, he has eaten and is satisfied, and he is now, no doubt about it, giving thanks.

So am I. Today, because of the faithfulness of another, today—I too am prayer. What joy there is to find even in the house of mourning.

Presence, what a thing to try to grasp. Maybe it is simply better to enjoy and behold, maybe that is grasping. Maybe even eternity begs to be beheld and that’s part of why a face can bring so much joy and why its departure hurts so badly, maybe if we stop and see, really see, the fresh unfolding we can cherish the what follows.

All I know—today is precious. The faces around us—are here because we need them, they need to be cherished, received, beheld, held, spoken gentle words to.

In the house of mourning there is great love and faithfulness to be learned. In refrain, repetition, tradition and ritual, there is a way to see. 

In loving memory of my friend Mike Sabin, I will be more faithful, though the house of my soul is much too small, I will sing. I will not fear tradition or reject containing or cultivating internal apparatus to see, I may still be at sea, but I will sing.

And, I know I am not alone, thanks for being with me friends, much love…

Raynna

Hello, I’m a woman, healing in my slice of wilds, exceedingly glad to send this out to you in your own. Let me know if it reached you, how it connected with you, and what have you encountered lately?

Also, share these words with someone else if they spoke to you today? You never know what can happen when we share…

I’m glad you’re here. Subscribe to receive my posts in your inbox, and I’ll send ya my poem, Bound by Light. Read the first post in this series on faithfulness here: The Faithfulness Writings Begin