Oct. 26, 2022

Oct 26, 2022

Make your heart a bowl
that is large enough to hold it all.
Imagine that you are the potter.
Stretch the clay. Cherish the turning wheel.
Accept that the bowl
is never going to be done.

–Lynn Ungar

Beloveds,

Everything about life these days seems to be packed full of just so much, well, everything. An hour or two ago (I am writing late Tuesday afternoon), it was pouring rain and got so dark that the streetlights here at church turned on. Now, the sun is shining, a gentle breeze is blowing through the trees, and the small birds who live nearby are hopping on & off the windowsill outside my office window. For the first time today, I see large patches of blue sky between briskly-moving remnants of storm clouds: a meteorological version of scanning headlines and the urgent messages in my inbox.

What is is a lot to take in. (Never mind, please, about managing it!). So I’ve been sitting since last weekend with this beautiful fragment (above) from Lynn Ungar’s poem, “A Letter in Return.” To make my heart larger–gently, patiently but persistently, like a potter shaping a bowl–seems a reasonably doable initial response to the too-muchness of life that keeps presenting itself. No matter if I can’t hold it all yet; I hope the intention of holding it all, the faithfulness to the task of stretching, honors or witnesses or blesses whatever and whomever needs to be honored or witnessed or blessed, if only imperfectly. When the opportunity to stretch what needs stretching in the world around me presents itself, I suspect the skill will be transferable. 

Yours in the imperfect loveliness and audacity of our lives and our work,

Rev. Denise

P.S. I will be out of town the next few days (through Sunday, Oct. 30) for some training, so you might notice a slower response if you message me via email or Slack. If you experience a pastoral emergency, please text me at 615-838-9611.

Rev. Denise Gyauch
Minister, Greater Nashville UU Congregation
RevDenise@gnuuc.org