the beatitudes, monday

Monday, November 16

Opening Prayer: Lord Jesus, help us to mourn over the things that break your heart, that one day we might be comforted by your Spirit and your Presence in our lives for all eternity.  Amen.

Scripture: Matthew 5:4

Journal: Where are you mourning in your life right now?  How are you receiving comfort from God?  What do you think God wants us to mourn over?

Reflection:

 

     Digory kept his mouth very tight shut.  He had been growing more and more uncomfortable.  He hoped that whatever happened, he wouldn’t blub or do anything ridiculous.

     “Son of Adam,” said the Aslan.  “Are you ready to undo the wrong that you have done to my sweet country of Narnia on the very day of its birth?”

     “Well, I don’t see what I can do,” said Digory.  “You see, the Queen ran away and—“

     “I asked, are you ready,” said the Lion.

     “Yes,” said Digory.  He had had for a second some wild idea of saying “I’ll try to help you if you’ll promise to help about my Mother,” but he realized in time that the Lion was not at all the sort of person one could try to make bargains with.  But  when he had said “Yes,” he thought of his Mother, and he thought of the great hopes he had had, and how they were all dying away, and a lump came in his throat and tears in his eyes, and he blurted out:

     “But please, please—won’t you—can’t you give me something that will cure Mother?”  Up till then he had been looking at the Lion’s great front feet and the huge claws on them; now, in his despair, he looked up at its face.  What he saw surprised him as much as anything in his whole life.  For the tawny face was bent down near his own and (wonder of wonders) great shining tears stood in the Lion’s eyes.  They were such big, bright tears compared with Digory’s own that for a moment he felt as if the Lion must really be sorrier about his Mother than he was himself. (The Magician’s Nephew by C. S. Lewis)

Prayer

Closing Prayer: Help me O God,

Give me the courage to cry.

Help me to understand that tears bring

     freshly washed colors arching across the soul

     colors that wouldn’t be there apart from the rain.

Help me to see in the prism of my tears,

     something of the secret of who I am.

Give me the courage

     not only to see what those tears are revealing

     but to follow where they are leading.

And help me to see,

     that where they are leading me is home…

          (Windows of the Soul by Ken Gire)