Epiphany Sunday has come and gone. The wise men have long since paid homage, left their precious gifts with the Christ child, and headed back to the East. I am just now arriving, just now approaching the manger, just how beginning to comprehend the Lord made flesh. So I was drawn to this amazing image by my friend Rabirius. I am uncertain if his work is photography, or art, or both. There is a mysterious, multilayered quality that draws me in, fires my imagination, makes me dig deeper for meaning and insight. I don’t know about you, but my ‘aha’ moments are more lie ‘aha’ seasons. There may be a sharp flash of light, an opening, a new direction. But the meaning is not something I come to quickly, or at least not as quickly as others. Like Mary, I must ‘ponder these things in my heart’. I must pray over them. I must look from more than one angle, in more than one light, with more than one perspective. What catches your eye first in this image? For me, it was the wall. How often do we walk away or take another path because we are sure the way ahead appears to be a dead end, blocked off and impenetrable? We simply dismiss the possibility, and go off on another tangent. What if we allowed ourselves to look further, to mull over the scene, to be sure we haven’t missed anything? Perhaps we might encounter the brightly colored door of this scene, illuminated by mysterious light. Or an eye meeting our steady gaze, beckoning us to a new and better place that what we leave behind. So what if it takes more time, or if we arrive after the others have departed? Such soul work is worth the time and the effort and the healing we find along the way. Make time today to ponder the walls in your life. Consider how long it took to build those walls, and what it might take to tear them down. Allow the Holy Spirit to show you the path ahead, a path that may wind and turn, but path you can be assured will get you there. Open your heart and mind and soul to the gift of grace, whether an epiphany or a gloaming, whether in an instant or over a lifetime. And always remember, our ‘work’ is simply to be present to transforming grace and mercy of our Lord, the same Lord that was born as a baby and walked among us in the flesh. Text by Connie Chintall ©2014, photo entitled ‘What is Hidden Behind This Door?’ by Rabirius ©2013, all rights reserved. To see more of his work, go to http://rabirius.wordpress.com/
Reflecting on Epiphany….
16 Jan 2014 6 Comments
in Reflecting on...... Tags: Connie Chintall, discernment, door, Epiphany, growth, path, prayer, Rabirius, spirituality, wall
Reflecting on the Nativity….
25 Dec 2013 2 Comments
in Reflecting on...... Tags: brokenness, Connie Chintall, discernment, faith, first Christmas, growth, healing, journey, manger, miracles, nativity, spirituality
The afternoon ground is still coated with frost while the air is mild and the sky is clear. The brilliant sunshine takes me back to the first Christmas my husband and I spent together as a married couple, living in Los Angeles. We received a nativity set from my sister Lana, a fitting gift for our new life together. So I was drawn to this photo of that same nativity set, almost twenty five years later. I can’t tell you how many moves we made since then. The nativity set has traveled with us, and hasn’t always fared well with the moves. If you look closely, you’ll see the shepherd has lost one foot, and must lean against the stable to stand upright. The thatched roof is worse for wear, certainly not offering much shelter from the elements. We found part of the missing lamb, just the head, now relegated to peeping out from amongst the hay in the stall. This year the elephant my daughter crafted in art class has joined the manger scene. Sometimes I’ll notice a shiny new nativity set when we are shopping, but this one suits us just fine. I don’t know about you, but I need to be reminded it’s okay for things to be less than perfect. It’s time to en joy one another instead of rushing around for one last gift, making yet another dessert, or fussing over a missed Christmas card or decoration. After all, that first Christmas was far from perfect. Our worst Christmas travel stories pale in comparison to traveling by donkey, about to birth a child. How often are we impatient when waiting to check into a hotel? How would we react to being offered a stable for the night? What mother would want to lay their baby in a lowly manger, wrapped in bands of cloth, perhaps tore from her own garments? It seems to me that Christmas is more about our brokenness than anything else. In the midst of this chaos, this messy, tangled, confusing existence, our Lord takes human form and lives amongst us. Make time today to remember that very first Christmas, when the King of Kings deigned to become one of us, born in a lowly stable. Consider his first followers were shepherds, the lowest of the low, despised by the priestly elite. Remember the wise men who must have seemed foolish to follow a star, across deserts and in defiance of authority, to seek out an infant child. And remember, that same King of Kings still seeks after us all, not matter how battered, or how lost.
Come to Bethlehem and see
Christ Whose birth the angels sing;
Come, adore on bended knee,
Christ the Lord, the newborn King.
See Him in a manger laid,
Whom the choirs of angels praise;
Mary, Joseph, lend your aid,
While our hearts in love we raise.
Verses 3 & 4 of Angels We Have Heard on High
Text and photo entitled ‘Nativity Made Whole’ by Connie Chintall ©2013
Reflecting on Messengers….
12 Dec 2013 2 Comments
in Reflecting on...... Tags: Advent, adventure, Connie Chintall, discernment, faith, goats, growth, guard, Henny McColloch, messenger, risk, steadfast
The skies are clear and the air is cold. The way my old dog is hopping and skipping around, you’d think he was a goat. Perhaps he’s invigorated by the cold, but more likely he’s limiting contact with the icy ground. Our routine seems the same every day, out in the morning and at night, but on days like today there is a twist. So I was drawn to this photo of a faithful goat by my friend Henny. She is a letter carrier with a rural route. Each day when she approaches this farm, the goat scurries over and perches on the stone steps in front of this door. So the other day she took a picture of this strange phenomenon. I am intrigued by the sturdy stone steps and cinder block frame, all to protect an old and weathered door. This door appears to enter a barn that has seen better days. I doubt the animals inside receive much protection from the elements. Wind must whip right through the spaces between the slats. So what is the goat protecting? What does the goat seek to guard? Goats get a short shrift in the Bible. We hear how the sheep and the goats are separated, as if one is good and the other bad. Yet perhaps we simply considering two alternatives, both good, both valid, like left and right. Sheep follow their shepherd, are more docile and compliant. Goats skip and run, looking for mischief and adventure. And in the midst of all this nonsense, goats remain sure footed, even on steep or treacherous terrain. Unlike sheep, goats eat practically anything. What if this goat is not a guard, but rather a guide to a more adventurous path? Perhaps he is inviting us to knock on the door, to try the knob, to see what is on the other side. I imagine this goat is not unlike John the Baptist, a messenger preparing the way for Christ. He points beyond the doorway to the manger, where our Lord enters this life as do we all, a helpless infant. Make time today for the goats and the sheep in your life, and in your soul. Consider the path not taken, the adventure you yearn to begin, the risk you fear to take. Pray for the All Merciful to go before you, to bless and protect you, to stretch and soothe your soul. And always remember, no matter how far you wander, the Alpha and Omega will lift you up lest you dash your foot against a stone. Text by Connie Chintall ©2013, photo entitled ‘Steadfast’ by Henny McColloch ©2013, all rights reserved
Reflecting on Redemption….
10 Dec 2013 Leave a comment
in Reflecting on...... Tags: Connie Chintall, forgiveness, growth, Karen Russo, letting go, prayer, redemption, slated colored junco, spirituality
It’s a cold, wet day here in Virginia, with snow and ice clinging to the trees. On days like today, the slate colored juncos gather in the evergreen just outside our front window. So I was drawn to this amazing photo, patiently taken by my friend Karen at her bird feeder. Karen captures the beauty of our area, offering glimpses of the small creatures we so easily overlook. When my daughter Tori was little, she called these juncos ‘ink birds’, saying they looked like someone held them upside down and dipped them in ink. The junco has a black back and is white on the under belly, where he is most vulnerable. We must look closely to see that white belly. We must be face to face, vulnerable to one another, willing to be seen as well as to see. The guarded stance reveals little of our inner workings, only offering the dark cloak on our backs. How often do we yearn for redemption, yearn to let go of regrets or sorrows that weigh us down? We want to let go, to move on, if only we could avoid that difficult first step. God knows everything, so why bother airing out dirty laundry? Why not fast forward to the best part, safely entrenched in our respectability? It’s a great temptation to remain as we are, yet when we risk nothing we gain nothing. Make time today to allow yourself to be vulnerable, to make room for grace, to be open to the goodness of life. Like these little birds, let your spirit shine through, despite the frustrations and setbacks that seek to soil the soul. Cast off the heavy burdens that hold you back to make room for the lightness of redemption. And always remember, when we let go of our weakness to God, His strength and power fills our hearts and soothes our souls. Text by Connie Chintall ©2013, photo entitled ‘Alert and Aware’ by Karen Russo ©2013, all rights reserved
Reflecting on Devotions….
22 Nov 2013 2 Comments
in Reflecting on...... Tags: Connie Chintall, Deb Love, Devotions, dirty pool, discernment, faith, growth, journey, prayer, spirituality
It’s a mild, breezy morning, and I just returned from walking the dog. Sometimes these walks offer an opportunity for prayer than eludes me otherwise. I struggle with sitting still, and staying silent. It seems easier to quiet my soul when my body in is motion, easier to grasp the vastness of the Creator when nature surrounds me. It’s the time of year when the trees have shed the last of their leaves. So I was drawn to this photo of a pool with newly fallen leaves by my friend Deb. Each leaf is still distinct, intact. Some of the leaves still float on the surface, yet to fall to the bottom. No one likes the chore of clearing the leaves. I don’t know about you, but I have plenty of good and not so good reasons to procrastinate. It’s too cold, I’m too tired, I would rather play than work. And unfortunately, the leaves do not wait. More and more leaves fall, and before long begin to rot. It seems to me that my morning devotions are a lot like clearing leaves from the pool. Note I said morning devotions, not daily devotions. I manage to carve out prayer time most days, but I cannot claim to reserve time each day to pray. Yet my aspiration to pray each day drives my discipline of devotions. Perhaps devotion is a word that has gone out of fashion, more often applied to love affairs than to prayer. We speak of parents or spouses being devoted to their loved ones. I find it difficult to remain present to those I love, to those who share my home and heart, without devotion, first and foremost, to the Holy of Holies. This practice has evolved over many years, and across many seasons of life. At first I waded in, lucky to carve out a few minutes of intentional prayer. When my daughter was little, I would pray in the parking lot, when I arrived at work. Isn’t my spontaneous prayer enough? It is, and isn’t. My spontaneous prayers were demands more than devotions. Instead of being with my Lord, I was simply asking for what I wanted. My morning devotions orient my actions, ease my burdens, and lighten my spirit. When I am diligent with prayer, the leaves of my life are swept away before they fall into the depths. My soul is stirred up, and cleared out. I see life less as a series of fragmented events and more as a seamless journey. I am more likely to respond, less likely to react, most likely to accept rather than judge. Make time today to stir the depths, to cleanse your heart and renew your soul. Pause to pray for clarity, with or without words. Allow the Holy Spirit to clear away discouragement, doubt, and despair. And always remember, when we sweep away our own fallen and rotting leaves, we stop judging and begin to see ourselves and one another more clearly through the eyes of the heart. Text by Connie Chintall ©2013, photo entitled ‘Dirty Pool’ by Deb Love ©2013
Reflecting on Empathy ….
14 Nov 2013 2 Comments
in Reflecting on...... Tags: compassion, Connie Chintall, discernment, empathy, faith, growth, healing, Sky Meadows, sympathy, wild columbine
It’s a beautiful, bright autumn morning here in Virginia. Even in November, we are blessed with mild days, when the sun warms the air and tempts you to do without an overcoat. On days like today, I wish my garden included more fall flowers. All that remains is a single rose. So I was drawn to this lovely photo taken by my friend Kira one spring evening from her front porch. We can see a single wild columbine in the foreground, in sharp focus, with others very close by but also very blurry. I love how the blossoms bow down under the weight of the rain, bending but not breaking. Perched on springy branches, these gentle flowers seem poised to take flight. Yet this bloom has separated from the rest, perhaps carrying a heavier burden, or too proud to ask for help. How do we reach out to others in pain, often suffering more than we can begin to imagine? Do we wait until they ask for help? Do we call and leave it at that? Perhaps we look to insert ourselves into the situation, to feel their pain, to walk a mile in their shoes. There was a time when I thought such empathy was the highest calling, when my pride and ego insisted I knew what another was feeling, and worst yet, what they needed. Now I wonder if any of us truly knows another’s pain. When we place ourselves in another’s shoes, it becomes about us instead of about them. What if empathy feeds the ego, rather than helping the other? What if empathy is an obstacle to true compassion, a way to stay in control when life seems to spiral out of control? A lifeguard begins to help by throwing in a red and white ring, then offering a pole from poolside. Only when all else fails does the lifeguard jump into the water. It takes a respectful distance to help others, working from a place of strength and stability. Once we jump in, we may be asking too much of ourselves to be able to help another. Our desire for empathy may crowd out our compassion and sympathy. Make time today to reach out to others in pain or distress. Resist the temptation to take charge, to assume you know what is going on, or how the other person feels. Simply offer to walk with them on their journey, doing as much or as little as required. Humbly complete the tasks you are given, trusting in God’s economy to provide the rest. And always remember, when we lean on God’s strength and compassion, rather than relying on our own, each of us is capable of offering a ray of sunshine in the midst of a storm. Text by Connie Chintall ©2013, photo entitled ‘All Alone on a Rainy Evening’ by Kira Skala ©2013
Reflecting on Time Apart….
24 Oct 2013 2 Comments
in Reflecting on...... Tags: awe, beauty, Connie Chintall, faith, growth, Lake Erie, new life, Put In Bay, Seaweed, South Bass Island, Wind Swept
Eastern Point of South Bass Island, Put in Bay, OH
It’s a rainy morning on South Bass Island in Put in Bay, Ohio. I am visiting a friend I’ve known for years, visiting and enjoying a break from my daily routine. My car, and my cares, are safely tucked away in a parking lot on the mainland. I boarded the ferry with just enough for the week, crossing the channel to a time and place apart on this delightful little island. Most folks have left for the season, or are in the process of packing up to depart. The restaurants take turns offering dinner, rather than compete for the business of those who remain through the winter. Life slows down as the weather cools and the wind roars across the water. The island is small enough to traverse by golf cart, so Mary and her dog Gabriel have been taking me to the out of the way corners of the island. On Eastern Point, we found a spit of land often covered by water. There are no tides on Lake Erie, so the strong wind I lamented on arrival extended the shoreline and offered us this beautiful view. I chose this photo not because it was the most picturesque, but because it captures the feel of this place the best. The vastness of the water and sky seem at odds with the intricate details of rocks and broken shells. Waves and waves of seaweed have been gracefully sculpted by the harsh weather. Then right smack in the middle, there is a block of concrete, a symbol of our meager human efforts as compared to the vastness and unending power of the Divine. I was overwhelmed with a sense of being apart, of stepping aside, of emptying of self to make room for the grace and mercy of the Almighty. I don’t know about you, but too often my life can become a constant drain, an endless list of things to do, a drudgery rather than a joy. I forget to fill myself first, to listen before I speak, to rush ahead before discerning a clear direction. After the Sermon on the Mount and the feeding of the 5000, our Lord boarded a boat with his disciples. He drew away from press of the crowd, rather than rushing on to the next in a series of miraculous good works. If the God Incarnate required time apart to rest and refresh, how much more do we need to make time apart? Perhaps we need to board a ferry and separate ourselves long enough to plant a seed of peace. Perhaps we simply need to make time in our daily lives for prayer and reflection. Perhaps it’s a little of both. We may take home what we learned while away, nurturing a newfound sense of a God that abides, a steadfast love without beginning or end, a healing that leads to wholeness in this life or the next. Make time today to be filled with the power and grace and mercy of the Almighty. Allow the Alpha and Omega to soothe your soul. Rest in the Cradle of Life, letting go of what weighs you down with each breath out, drawing in the Well of Healing Light with every breath in. And always remember, as we plunge headlong in to the busy-ness of this life, our God is ever present, waiting patiently for us to rest, to reflect, and to renew our weary souls. Text and photo entitled ‘Wind Swept Glory’ by Connie Chintall ©2013
Reflecting on Glimpses….
09 Sep 2013 Leave a comment
in Reflecting on...... Tags: Connie Chintall, discernment, Eric Jordan, eternity, faith, glimpses, growth, hope, Kerrville Cross, resurrection
It’s a beautiful, crystal clear morning on Long Beach Island in New Jersey. The journey here has brought me to a mixture of times long since past and times yet to come. So I was drawn to this amazing photo by my high school friend Eric of the cross located on Interstate Highway 10 in Kerrville, TX. I love how he caught the light streaming through the top of this enormous cross. As an engineer, I am awed by the openwork metal construction, by the daring of the builders to take on a task so many others would forsake. It is so easy to see the empty, solid cross as the whole story, rather than simply the beginning of the story. It’s tempting to dwell on the past, on how we got to the empty cross. It’s what we know for sure, what we can easily account for. Instead the empty cross is a glimpse of eternity, the beginning of a glorious and wonderful story that starts here and now. A very wise child taught me that eternity is not linear time without beginning or end. Eternity is all times happening right now, simultaneously, miraculously, spectacularly. Rather than standing at a single point, looking back or looking forward, the Almighty can perceived all times, all places, all souls, all at once. Make time today to glimpse eternity through the window of the resurrection cross. Root yourself firmly in the here and now, in the intersection between our linear perception of time and God’s all encompassing eternity. Let go of your meager human solutions to make room for the Divine, to follow God’s plan rather than your own. Open your heart to the Mystery, to seek consolation rather than comprehension. And always remember, each and every time we turn afresh to the steadfast love of Alpha and Omega, we find infinitely more than we can hope for, or even begin to imagine. Text by Connie Chintall ©2013, Photo by Eric Jordan, of the Kerrville Cross. To learn more about this amazing cross, go to http://thecrossatkerrville.org/home/
Reflecting on Separation….
24 Aug 2013 6 Comments
in Reflecting on...... Tags: Alamanos, Connie Chintall, discernment, faith, family, growth, letting go, parenting, separation, sunset, Tomasz Huczek
It’s a cool, rainy morning, more like autumn than summer. Today is the day my daughter moves into her dorm at college, and we all begin the next chapter of our lives as a family together. I know of no other relationship where the goal is independence rather than increasing intimacy. So I was drawn to this haunting photo by my friend Tomasz, of a beautiful sunset beyond the cove. I love how the water and sky seem to be parts of the same whole, smooth and silky against the rocky shore. I can picture myself in his place, looking into the distance, at first seeing only the glory of the sunset, then glimpsing the tiny figure on the point. Up until today, we have talked and dreamed and reveled in the wonderful opportunities that await our precious daughter at university. Now all I can see is the distance this change will create, a change we have yet to fully comprehend. So I must remind myself that she is God’s child first, given to usas our daughter, to shepherd and help find the path the Holy of Holies has prepared for her. I must remember the Almighty, the God of angel armies, will send legions of warrior angels to guide and guard her, to bless and protect her. Most of all, I must remember to look beyond today, to the little that I can now see, to trust that rocky shore offers a long way home when she needs it. Yet that vision may be too small – more likely she will dive in and swim home, or even sprout wings and fly. Perhaps as a military family we meet today with more experience of separation, yet that experience does not prepare us for this separation. Today is a day to lean on the heart’s knowledge that prayer binds souls together in ways that time and distance cannot sever. The eye may perceive her from afar, but she will always be as close as my beating heart. Make time to savor the here and now, to store up a treasure trove of memories. Honor the children in your life for who they are, leaning on God’s strength and all encompassing power to grow into men and women with a passion for life and serving others. And always remember to hold them close, but not too close, making room for their path, rather than an extension of your own. Text by Connie Chintall ©2013, Photo entitled ‘Alamanos Sunset’ by Tomasz Huczek ©2012, to see more of his photos, go to http://tomasz.cc/
Reflecting on Blind Corners….
20 May 2013 5 Comments
in Reflecting on...... Tags: alley, blind corner, Connie Chintall, discernment, discipline, faith, growth, Liv Schoffstall, prayer, trust, Va, Warrenton
I live in Warrenton, VA, the first town to be designated as a ‘Main Street USA’ town. Even after living here for almost twenty years, there are views of Old Town that elude me. So I was drawn to this intriguing photo by my young friend Liv, of the space between the shops on Main Street. I’m always surprised at how few folks know about Old Town, how they simply shop the chain stores and eat at the chain restaurants on the business highway. I love the little shops on Main Street that carry unusual and interesting items and the restaurant that uses local produce and meat. You park behind the shops, just once, then walk from one stop to the next to run your errands. I often meet folks I know on the street, or when I stop for coffee. As you can imagine, most days I end up far from my car, and either need to take the long way around or find a less obvious route to where I parked. I must admit I have walked past this place again and again and did not begin to imagine there was a way through. From the street, you’ll never see the path that snakes between the shops, and ends up in the lovely parking lot beyond. It seems to me that the walk of faith is a lot like this blind corner. There are times when we must walk into tight places to find a better way forward. We must take that first step, even if we are unsure there is a way out. Perhaps the first time we take a false turn or back up. Perhaps we are not ready to enter that tight squeeze, to stretch or grow beyond where we are right now. Yet the good news is that while second chances are rare in this life, God offers us an infinite number of second chances. Make time today to trust our All Powerful Lord to see beyond what our limited mortal view can offer. Let go of the burdens of this life, of problems that seem to have no solutions, of situations that seem hopeless, of paths that seem to go nowhere. Let God breathe new life into the dreary corners of your life, and show you the Way ahead. And always remembers, even when we chose the longer way around, we still end up where God is taking us, one way or the other. Text by Connie Chintall ©2013, Photo entitled ‘Blind Corner’ by Liv Schoffstall ©2013, All Rights Reserved.
Seek the Sacred Amidst the Ordinary 