Week One, Day Three Hope

I invite you into the prayer practice of Visio Divina by focusing on your breathing.  Breathe in to the count of three...exhale to the count of six or seven.

Breathe in the One who goes by the name, "Hope"...exhale the voices that say such thinking or talking is all foolishness or wishful thinking.

Breathe in the aromas of sunshine, breezes, and birds singing out that morning has broken...breathe out that which woke you up at 2 am to chat.

Breathe...simply breathe.  Letting the exhale slowly fall from your lips like a drip of water from a faucet.

Look at the image and let your eyes stay with the very first thing that you see. Keep your attention on that one part of the image that first catches your eye. Try to keep your eyes from wandering to other parts of the picture. Breathe deeply and let yourself gaze at that part of the image for a minute or so.  

Now, let your eyes gaze at the whole image. Take your time and look at every part of the photograph. See it all.  Put yourself in the photo.  You are standing right there alongside me taking the photo, I wonder, what is stirring within you?  Reflect on the image for a minute or so.

Consider the following questions:

What emotions does this image evoke in you?

What does the image stir up in you, bring forth in you?

Does this image lead you into an attitude of prayer? If so, let these prayers take form in you. Write them down if you desire.

Reflection...

I want to live on "Hope Street".

I want to reside, rest in a place where every time I am asked for my address, the word, "Hope" falls from my lips.

I want to sit on my front porch, waving to my neighbors walking past, because we share this one block of the world the city leaders decided to call "Hope".

I want to be, breathe knowing that I live in, on, and upon "Hope".

I almost missed this photo.

We had just left Capilano Suspension Bridge Park.  I had over one hundred photos on my camera of towering trees (don't worry, those photos are coming) as well as that tree stump I asked you to gaze and prayerfully ponder last week (don’t worry, that photo isn’t going to make another appearance).  My body was tired from the train ride that morning and two-hour plus walk in the beauty of creation.  My mind was trying to take in what I had experienced, and we were settling into our second stop on the journey.  We had encountered a playful squirrel (more on that later).  We were all a bit exhausted, so we boarded the trolley back to our hotel.

Then, just as we turned out of the parking lot, there was Hope Street.  I almost missed it, except my wife saw the street and pointed it out to me. And, with a trace of God's grace, the trolley stopped at a red light giving me time to get my camera out.

This short story for me is a great metaphor for hope.

Hope happens when we least expect it.  Hope arrives in our lives unannounced and is willing to wait quietly for us to notice.  To be sure, my family and I didn't discuss the merits of calling a street "Hope," or how other people who lived just south of "Hope" might feel about the location of their homes?  There was no philosophical conversation, just a blurry picture barely snapped before the trolley began to move in the bumper-to-bumper traffic.

This story and the photo are a reminder of what "Hope" is in my life.  Hope is a trace of God's grace which invites me to notice and name the movement of the holy.  The prayer practice of gazing and prayerfully pondering not just right now in that one moment, but especially as I move about my day and as we inch toward Bethlehem this Advent.

Blessings ~~