Prayers and the Earth

The time in Jordan has been quite prayerful, but in a different way than I was expecting. I thought I would be praying more for people who are in need of prayers back home, and yes, I am doing that, but I feel like my prayer is somehow attached to the ground, to the soil, to the dust. I cannot articulate it yet. The sand and the earth are always nearby and one day it will claim all of our lives and so the matter of time feels much different here. Death is part of life, and we simply lives in happiness as best we can before the ancient aspect of the life cycle comes in due course. From dust we were created and to dust we shall return. 

Last year I did not have much time to grieve the losses in my life and I simply try to remember many of the good moments with deceased loved ones, but it is as if I'm not supposed to be grieving at this time, but to settle into the groundedness of the natural physical world around me. I wonder when I will grieve, or if I will. I'm dealing with the sadness of death so often and I believe in the Resurrection, and though I have moment of sadness, I'm not called to stay there. 

Maybe it is the magnitude of suffering in the world. I see precious stories in young people who are trying their best to be their best in studies, music, or whatever endeavor they are choosing. I like it when I see people trying to do better. I see precious stories in the way that women adopt children who are abandoned and in need and they accept the child as their own to give them the best shot in life. I see the hopes of parents and grandparents who are simply delighted that their children exist, especially when one of the children needs special care. I see people who try to make beauty in their little corner of the world, to have something of their own of which they can be proud. I see people who want to be seen or heard or known by another person, and their faces light up when someone acknowledges them or speaks to them.

Perhaps I'm too much of a dreamer, but I await the day when every individual has her or his moment, a moment of recognition, a moment of reversal, a moment of breakthrough when they know fundamentally how loved they are but another person, and that this love has the power to change the course of the world.I don't think it takes that much effort. It takes just deciding to accompany another person on the road just to be with the one you are with at the moment. We just accept where we are and who accompanies us.

--------

As it was our Christian Sabbath, it was a low key day. I decided to make Sunday dinner for the community and it was well received. We have some of Vivian's Quiche meat and vegetable pies, so I cooked them off for dinner and supper before they reached their expiration date. We had steak and mushroom, shepherd's pie, chicken pot, and vegetable pies. I also made some hor d'oeuvres of mini-cheese and min-asparagus quiches. We had some meat lasagne as warm overs and some chicken and potatoes. Emile prepared a salad and I heated up some rice and warmed up some bread. We finished our the chocolate cake with ice cream. Everyone seemed satisfied and we had nice conversations. We ate well, and I needed a walk. 

I've made the afternoon a time of study and writing so I can avoid the noonday heat. One problem is that I like to sleep. I must get to bed earlier but I feel wide awake from my walks. 

We had Mass for 18 people on Sunday night - a smaller group than most weeks, but Saturday was overflowing. The smaller group made it quite prayerful, and people seemed to like my homily. I spoke about the marvels of space and also the need for society to treat women better, more as equals. They seemed to really lean in when they heard those words. 

During the evening, I walked to Jebel Webdeih for some exercise. I cannot wait to get back home to get in a run in the morning once again. The village was packed. It was easy to spot the Americans, but somehow we do not speak. It is as if we want to blend in and be Arabic instead of American, but we do not hide our character well. I came home and did a little bit of sketching that I hope I can make into some watercolors. The first one will be basic because it is a simple monument in Baghdad. The others will be more intricate. If I do these well, maybe I'll do larger oil paintings for the Baghdad College community in Detroit and Chicago.  

Sleep is calling and it is going to win out.