Prayer—reaching outward
reaching inward
reaching toward something
more real than I find myself to be—
reaching toward a light in darkness
toward a confirmation in the midst of doubt
toward fulfillment in a time of emptiness
toward something other.
Prayer moves in emptiness
moves below emptiness
to a place of silent stillness
where there are no words
no feelings
but a sense of completion
as my “I am” dissolves into the Other.
Ann Glover O’Dell
13 January 2020
An ancient Christian theologian penned this couplet:
“Of what value is God’s message to Marie [Mary, mother of Jesus]
if He has not the same message for me?”
God is trying to give us the same sign, send the same message to each of us. He wants a special birthing to take place in each one of us, each of us being his unique, holy, precious, only begotten child.
I was told by a former pastor that the pain in me had a message I needed to hear. He sent me home to have a written dialog which revealed that something new wanted to be born in me, and something had to die for the new being to emerge. The process awaited my permission. It depended entirely on my consent. God does not birth himself into our consciousness without our cooperation.
God wants to birth Himself into our awareness in such a way that we possess our own Immanuel, our own internal God-With-Us, God-Within-Us.
God’s signs are around and within us. If we don’t witness one, God invites us to ask for one, our own personal sign. The message to Mary is God’s message to us. He awaits our permission.
The Magi had been informed in their study that a new king would be born in their lifetime and a special star would appear in the heavens to indicate the birthplace. They waited and watched until they saw the star.
We are kings of our own kingdom, rulers of individual realm. We are not watching for a star because we’re not interested in a new king. We don’t want any competition for our throne.
But sometimes when we’re most introspective, we realize we would like something new and wonderful happening in our lives—we’re not sure what but something that will give us a kind of joy we haven’t experienced in a long time.
We need not look for a star in the heavens. Our sign is within us, beckoning us to the manger deep in our weary spirits, lighting the way for our conscious awareness to see something new, waiting for us to arrive so the new birth can be witnessed and celebrated.
Don’t be afraid to follow your sign to the place where only you can be reborn. All you need to do is give permission for the new king, your own benevolent monarch, to be born in you—to give you peace, to make you a co-creator with God in establishing a new kingdom of justice and love.
Hurry! The world needs the new you!
Ann Glover O’Dell
January 2018
God wants to rename you. God wants your name to be Emmanuel. In your heart of hearts God wants you to be able to rename yourself. And the only way you can authentically give yourself that name Emmanuel is to experience God within you—to such an extent that you know beyond doubt that God is with you and within you.
The Jesus story is our story—the story of each of us as God’s holy child, born to testify to the love and grace of God. Jesus came to testify to who God is and who we are. Jesus’ life story showed us the love of God and the divinity as well as humanity within every human being.
Isaiah is your prophet! He is predicting all the names that will belong to you once your godchild is born in you.
Wonderful Counselor—you will be able to counsel others on how to connect with their Inner Wisdom—on how to participate in the birth of their own godchild. What a gift that will be that you will have to give others.
Prince of Peace—you will find a kind of peacefulness in your personality that will make you a new person. And the peacefulness that you experience will be evident to others who will want to know how you obtained it. You will have opportunities to help others to become peaceful people.
Emmanuel—God with us. That will be your most important spiritual name. It means God is with you and you are able to be with others in new and loving ways. You will be God’s representative to those with whom you come in contact. You will be able to rejoice with those who are rejoicing without envy over whatever has happened to them to cause them to be joyful. You will be able to grieve with those who are in sorrow without losing your balance. You will be able to be compassionate to those who need comfort, encouragement, and guidance without trying to control them. You finally will be able to be your genuine, original self, full of grace and love, God’s child.
Ann Glover O’Dell
December 2018
What a beautiful word. Godchild is primarily a term given to an individual, a young child, whose spiritual life we agree to take responsibility for (and sometimes to become legal guardian of in case of parents’ death). The term suggests a reminder that this individual is God’s child whose spiritual as well as physical being is unique and special.
What about our own inner godchild? That’s the part of us that God wants us to find and watch over.
God imprinted us at our beginning with his image—indelibly. Frederick Buechner reminds us that we have “the mark of God’s thumb” on us. The world has covered it with debris of all sorts. But the imprint never dissolves or disappears. Just as all mammal infants experience the imprimatur of bonding, our souls are permanently bonded with God.
Our task is to let God destroy the debris, the detritus of our lives, so that what is in our holy place can come forward—so our godchild can emerge and become the motivating force of our new lives, become the all-pervasive essential characteristic in our personality.
What a perfect time Christmas is to ponder our own holiness.
Ann Glover O’Dell
June 2018
The story of Jacob and the angel he wrestled with during the night is an intriguing one. In an ancient Jewish version of the story the angel asks Jacob for a blessing, not the other way around. Perhaps this indicates that they blessed each other.
Jacob is between what we know of ourselves and the other Self we don’t know. Each has a blessing for the other. Each is a blessing for the other. Wrestling each with each, determined not to release until the blessing wrested and fully given, reveals the name of one (I Am) and changes the name of the other.
Perhaps the wrestling matches in our lives hold potential for blessing both ways. Just as the struggle provides a blessing for our personality, our participating in the struggle may provide a blessing that reaches out into the world.
Ann Glover O’Dell
8 August 2007
Is there any doubt in our minds that God wants us to be rid of guilt and shame and whatever obstacles called sin that come between us and an intimate relationship with Him? God cannot have the intimacy he wants with us as long as anger and “shoulds” rule our lives. There is no room for the joy He wants to give us.
John Claypool said his notion of God was a divinity who was so excited being himself that He couldn’t help but want to create creatures to share that excitement. How can God fully enjoy us unless we experience the excitement He feels in his creative endeavor?
Our first step is to want God’s excitement. Then to recognize that something in us needs to be destroyed. Then to engage our Inner Force in conversation to determine that is indeed a force for good and one that can take away what is blocking us from God’s joy. Then to cooperate with that Inner force by giving it permission to do in us what needs to be done.
God wills us to participate in our miracle of transformation.
Ann Glover O’Dell
17 September 2018
I believe we are garbage collectors. No, we don’t deposit in a dumpster or a landfill. We don’t even use a trash compactor. We hold on to it and let it multiply.
A friend who is a committed Christian says he needs guilt in order to get out of bed in the mornings. He says guilt is his biggest motivator. Another friend tells me she is attached to her sins and can’t imagine letting them go.
One of my sons as a little boy announced he wanted to become a garbage collector because that was something everyone needed. On a spiritual level that is what God is (among other things). A garbage collector. But He doesn’t steal our garbage from us. He waits for us to offer it up. He waits for us to want Him to collect and destroy it.
What would life be without our garbage? We can hardly imagine. A heavy burden lifted? a sense of freedom? A clean slate?
In the enormous space our garbage occupied will come laughter, peacefulness, creativity, and joy. And if we miss our guilt and anger and want it back, God will probably help us conjure it up.
Ann Glover O’Dell
20 September 2018
Someone disagrees with my conviction that under the skin we are all much alike: we have the same fears, the same shame, the same anger, the same existential angst.
Further, I am certain that each of us has an Inner Wisdom, a force for good that wills us wholeness and can give us blessings we cannot give ourselves. This Inner Wisdom is available to all of us in dialogue.
I challenge you readers to prove me right or wrong. First, let me say that the folks I know who have engaged their Inner Wisdom are glad they did. Two I know who had cancer found the cancer no longer remained the hated enemy but actually disappeared. My own debilitating illness was also healed.
The dialogue with your Inner Wisdom is not a courageous act, not a leap of faith, not surrender. Your free will is never compromised. It is an interview—questions and answers. Your rational conscious self is in charge at all times and you can end the conversation whenever you wish.
Begin the written conversation with a question, keeping in mind that your Inner wisdom is concerned with your spiritual and physical well-being, not with tangible things you might want.
The first response from your Inner Wisdom might be, “What do you think?” and that simple question may very well cause your mind to begin thinking in a whole new way about something you thought you had exhausted.
As the dialogue continues, you may find there is something your Inner Wisdom can do for you that you cannot consciously do for yourself. And all it needs is your permission—your unconditional permission to do its work in its own way in its own time. You decide whether to give that needed permission.
If you do, save your written interview as proof positive later on when you want to demonstrate to others that you initiated something that changed your life.
If you give permission for your Inner Wisdom to act on your behalf, eventually I predict a catharsis will occur in your life, washing away whatever has kept you from experienced your real Self. And I hope you will report to me so I will be proved right.
Ann Glover O’Dell
7 July 2018
Your Inner Wisdom awaits your engagement. Whatever you choose to call it—Guardian Angel, God, Higher Power, Holy Spirit, it is that secret inner part of your personality. The creative part. The part that cannot be controlled by your conscious willful self.
Your Inner Wisdom is a force that can do for you what you cannot do for yourself–make you into your original self. It is always a force for good. It wants health and wholeness for you and can give that to you if you cooperate.
Your cooperation is required in the form of giving your Inner Wisdom permission to do whatever needs to be done in you to make room for the goodness it has to give you.
You can glibly say to yourself, “Sure, I give permission for something good to happen to me.”
But that is not enough. In a written dialog you need to converse with your Inner Wisdom until you realize you want a new life with all of your conscious might. And you need to discover that your Inner Wisdom is a benevolent force. Then the permission becomes authentic.
You are always in control of the conversation. And can stop it at any time. There is no coercion. Your free will is left intact. The conversation is not surrender, a leap of faith, a courageous act. It is a dialog—questions and answers. Begin with any question and listen for a response from deep within you.
You are on your way to experiencing God’s special miracle for you.
Easter traditions abound all over the world, and they vary from culture to culture. Often people who observe them do not know their origins, but something in the individual and collective psyche of the people embraces and celebrates the traditions each year. Usually people don’t think much about them until some visitor asks.
In the West some of our Easter customs are even rather contradictory. Rabbits don’t lay eggs, yet every Easter the Easter Bunny brings them to fill children’s baskets on Easter Eve.
Germans immigrating to US brought the idea of the rabbit as the spring symbol of reproductivity. And they are also believed to be the ones who brought the idea of colored eggs. An ancient Teutonic legend states that the rabbit was originally a bird and was transformed by Oestre (Ostara, Eastre), the goddess of spring, into its present form. In gratitude for his transformation, the rabbit laid beautiful eggs each spring in honor of her festival. Our word Easter comes from her name.
Rabbit and egg give a double symbol of new life–and thus are exactly right for us. Some of us seem to need to be told twice–and in unusual metaphors. Trouble is, we seem to have lost our desire to investigate the metaphor. It sometimes takes internationals coming to this country to inquire as to why we engage in such a strange ritual, and even then some of us are content just to admit we simply don’t know.
Rabbit is an ancient symbol not only for fertility–since it reproduces so quickly–but also for the divine. This idea comes from ancient Persia to Africa and was brought to us by the slaves–in the stories of Br’er Fox, Br’er Bear, and Br’er Rabbit. Br’er Fox and Br’er Bear have great schemes for capturing Br’er Rabbit, and often do, but Br’er Rabbit’s wit always serves to save his life.
The rabbit is one of few animals that has no natural defense system and is easy prey for larger carnivores. But in some cultures it’s the very vulnerability of the rabbit that appeals as a symbol for the divine–the idea that God doesn’t come as king of the beasts but as a defenseless creature. The rabbit is a timid, harmless, peaceable creature, who will not retaliate, no matter the provocation. It has teeth similar to rodents but will never bite, not even in self-defense.
The egg has been used throughout history as a symbol of new life. And today in Eastern Europe Orthodox Christians exchange red eggs at Easter as a symbol of their faith, new life, and joy, red symbolizing the blood of life. In a number of countries the decorating of eggs has evolved into a painstaking and beautiful art form. Pysanky is a time-honored folk tradition, established in the Ukraine, handed-down from one generation to another, whereby intricate and beautiful designs in color and wax are painted on the shells of raw eggs. The wax seals the porous quality of the shell and eventually the egg dries up.
We need dig only a little into the soft soil of symbolism to discover that the Easter Bunny is much like St. Nicholas–a metaphor for the God who has good gifts for us–and the egg–representing new life–is one of the special ones. A passage from Luke has Jesus comparing the kinds of good gifts we give our children to the gifts God has for us. The lesson is that even though we can identify what are gifts good enough for our children, we cannot imagine all the good gifts God has in store for us.
In addition to everything else the Jesus narrative tells is the GOOD NEWS that we are EASTER EGGS–each one of us unique and precious, a gift from God. And each of us has a new creature–God’s holy creature, our original being, inside, wanting, trying to hatch out.
Some of us are a lot like the Orthodox Christians who paint over the shells of their Easter eggs. We are porous, vulnerable creatures, and we’ve tried to make our shells impervious to cracks, nicks, anything that might penetrate and further damage the already wounded self we know ourselves to be.
But there are individuals who have had egg-cracking, hatching out experiences. They identify with Humpty Dumpty but recognize they don’t need to be put back together because something wonderful has emerged.
The Ukrainian Pysanky eggs dry up eventually. If one of those eggs is kept safe from cracks, the yolk and white eventually dry up and the egg has almost no weight. We may get to a point where we feel life drying up within us. But God has a better idea for us than that. The Resurrection narrative tells us the shell must be destroyed so that new life can emerge.
Jesus was trying to patch up the brokenness of the world’s shell–by preaching, teaching, touching, healing, performing miracles. But that was not enough. God’s design was to show the world the human Easter Egg–whose body/shell, cracked and broken, opened the way for new life to emerge.
Whether we believe in the Easter Bunny is not the issue.
Whether we believe in John 3:16 is not the issue (For God so loved the world that he gave his only begotten son, that whosoever believed in him should not die but have eternal life). The issue for us is the Easter Egg and the question it presents:
Do we want new life–in this flesh–in this body–enough to cooperate with the new creature within us that is trying to hatch out? to cooperate in stop trying to glue the cracks in our shell? to stop trying to paint over the vulnerable parts and protect ourselves from further wounds?
The spiritual pain and psychological agony in our lives is telling/begging us to quit gluing and patching and let the birth–the hatching out take place. This new creature within is like a little chick who has developed inside the egg shell. The chick must grow until it has a beak strong enough to penetrate the shell–from the inside out.
See how God likes to do the opposite of what we imagine.
Think about eggs this Easter season. Think about yourself as an egg–-with a beautiful new creature inside ready to hatch out. Think about yourself , already a beautifully decorated egg, having something even more beautiful inside that wants to emerge. Think about the real you pecking against the shell–from the inside. Think about letting your egg shell crack open and the new creature hatch out.
Ann Glover O’Dell
March 2002
The prophesy and the Nativity story both give significant clues as to God’s intention and activity. The prophets talk of something new emerging from something old, of a culture where all animals live peaceably together with no danger to humans; of the appearance of one who manifests characteristics of Almighty God himself. The foretelling emphasizes the determination of God to make this happen and the energy He will use to bring this about.
Furthermore, God’s design, energy, and essence are to be known throughout the earth by all. The birth narrative confirms prophesy and impresses on reader/hearer alike that the new being is conceived and nurtured by none other than the indomitable will of God.
Are we ready to see that both prophesy and Nativity story are what we want to claim for our own? Not simply a belief system but rather transformative agents in our individual lives? If we want that it can be ours.
Do we feel old in our spirits and want a new beginning? Are we weary of all the conflict in our lives? Do we yearn for a peace that passes understanding? Are we ready to encounter the prophetic voice deep within us, to dialog with it to learn if it has a special annunciation message for us? If so, become the scribe of your own wise messenger. Ask a question and write the reply. Allow your Inner Wisdom to give you the information you need so that you may, as did Mary, agree to cooperate with the process.
Ann Glover O’Dell
18 December 2017
When God’s voice said, “Be!”
and all the guilt and anger in me vanished
I began to know as I am known—
to understand in deepest heart
that what our mind has told us we must do
can never be divine directives
because our mind attempts to be God,
not listening for his holy will.
When God said, “Be!”
He gave me new relationship
where tasting, feeling, sensing
takes precedence to thinking and deciding.
When God told me to be
I became a born again as Jesus once described
those apprehending life’s abundance.
Ann Glover O’Dell
20 November 2017
John Noonan says religion is for people who are trying to keep from going to hell and spirituality if for people who have been there and who don’t want to go back.
In order for us to be in intimate relationship with God, something that is not of God must die within us. As we witness that death, we experience our own personal hell. There is no way around it if we would truly know God.
Jesus told his God to work out his will. Jesus gave permission to whatever would follow. Jesus cooperated with God’s will.
If a death was necessary for God’s plan to materialize in the life of a man like Jesus, how much more is a death necessary in us.
Ann Glover O’Dell
22 November 2016
The rising sun each morning shows us a new opportunity to find a fresh beginning place in ourselves—a clean slate where we can allow the Holy Spirit to write us a love letter. We may carry fatigue or worry from the previous day, but the Spirit of God, that enormous benevolent energy, wants to give us, above, beyond, under, and through each new day, a fresh glimpse of what it means to be a beloved child of God in whom he takes great delight.
Ann Glover O’Dell
I’ve been trying to find a way to help children (and adults!) access their creative center in order that they might find what will inspire their spirits and give them passion for living. I’ve been thinking of creative folks who have found their passion and who might inspire young people to search for their own.
But I’ve had it all wrong! Creative people as would-be role models might do little more than increase the apathy, rage, and depression already dominating in many youth who may have already despaired of ever finding anything to bring them lasting joy.
The secret is to allow the creative center to express itself in us. And centering is the means by which we request and cooperate with our creative self which seeks to express itself benevolently and uniquely in every human being.
The quiet time of centering can be called calming time or peace-seeking—a time to detach from thoughts and feelings and relax all consciousness while sitting in a comfortable position.
Choosing a special word that expresses one’s intention is important and should be carefully undertaken. Invoking that word when the mind begins to wander down the stream-of-conscious will help to keep one focused. The word can be silently repeated as often as necessary.
Regular daily quiet time is necessary to achieve desired results. Gradually amazing changes will be noticed in one’s personality. Exciting ideas will begin to come forth. Little by little transformation takes place and joyful creativity emerges. A journal would be a good companion so one can begin to chronicle results.
Could it be possible that we, as transmitters of the energy of the universe, can enable that energy to multiply as it travels through us?
I like to think so.
First of all, we need to embrace the idea that this energy is a benevolent one, that it seeks our good and the good of all.
Recalling surprising coincidences can begin to show us how that energy can work to make our lives more enjoyable—and give us the desire for more of its miracles. We may not be able to specifically direct the action of this universal energy, but we can tell it what we want: to be open to its activity within us and its guidance of our choices.
Second, we need to find ways of opening ourselves to its coursing in and through us, ways of inviting it to work its goodness using us as its vehicles.
May there be each day
in all our lives
some moment when we are called,
nay, brought to the doorway
of our soul’s sanctorum,
where the physical, sloughed off
to reveal the spiritual,
fades for a time in the fog of memory
and our heart’s eyes see
as they have never seen before—
a thin space where truth
waits to be revealed
to the curious and the hungry,
and our heart’s ears hear
the message that only love can bear,
the message that we are beloved.
Ann Glover O’Dell
18 September 2017
At the seashore we ingest a sense of eternity—
the primeval rhythms of the sea against the shore,
the sea as the chaos from which all life came,
the depths of the sea as the mystery of whatever cannot be grasped or
comprehended,
the sea as the mystical power of God.
The sea-shore activates our senses and reminds us afresh of our humanity.
We marvel at the sight of the sea, which has looked the same
to countless generations who have witnessed it before us.
We hear the unrelenting pounding of the waves against the shore, booming
yet calming.
We touch the water, the seaweed, the driftwood, and the shells the sea brings
to shore.
We smell the sea, its breeze unlike any other.
We taste its saltiness, full of flavor, full of life, of living creatures.
As our senses sharpen we become aware of the action of the sea:
a constant movement in the ebb and flow of the waves,
a surface that belies an undertow,
the movement of shells and creatures,
the movement that forces the shells to wear down and break,
the movement that causes friction, shell against shell,
the movement that smooths and polishes,
the movement that makes beautiful
even the fragments.
We, too, are worn down by the sands of time and the waves of adversity.
We have been broken by the action of circumstance.
We have become fragmented by the sea of life.
As we finger shell fragments, let us be reminded that we are precious to our Creator,
who wants to smooth and polish our rough edges, our painful places,
not to erase our scars but to heal us in a way that gives our scars a
special beauty
and our lives a kind of loveliness that makes others want the healing
we’ve received.
Let us submit ourselves to the caress of the sea,
the powerful sea of the Spirit of God,
allowing it to wash away what needs to be washed away,
allowing it to make us fresh and new,
allowing it to smooth and polish and broken fragments of our
lives and make us beautiful again.
October 1995
Ann Glover O’Dell
Time and again Jesus instructs his disciples and others in his audience to listen. “He who has ears to hear, let him hear,” Jesus repeats. We have come to understand that for Scripture to have the greatest impact on our lives, we must ask ourselves, ‘what does it mean to me?’ Where is it touching me most deeply? Where am I most affected, and perhaps made uncomfortable, by the Scripture passage?
As we ask these questions, we are better able to see how God might be a part of the situation in the text—and my situation as well. We are invited to have a personal encounter with the verses we choose to read in the Bible, a prelude to the kind of encounter that God wants to have with each of us.
Look again at the parable of the sower and the soils. Many interpretations have been given of the various kinds of soil, and even the sower and the grain that finally emerges from the good soil. But this time you are invited to make your own personal interpretation.
Scripture: Matthew 13:3-8
A sower went out to sow. And as he sowed, some seeds fell along the path, and the birds came and devoured them. Other seeds fell on rocky ground, where they had not much soil, and immediately they sprang up, since they had no depth of soil, but when the sun rose they were scorched; and since they had no root they withered away. Other seeds fell upon thorns, and the thorns grew up and choked them. Other seeds fell on good soil and brought forth grain, some a hundredfold, some sixty, some thirty.
Residents of Haven House, a residential treatment center for addition, were asked to listen carefully as the story was read several times and then share whatever they would of the responses they had and the insights that came to them as they pondered at a deeper level what the story might be saying to them. All of them related the story to their own stories.
One man noticed that the sower lost a lot of seed but gained a great deal in the end.
Another suggested that we need to plant ourselves around a church family so we don’t wither.
Still another suggested that the thorns in the story represent the wrong people we associate with.
One said it seemed to him that to do good, one has to give up something to gain something else.
Another said we must prepare our heart in a way that we have to prepare soil to receive the good seed.
And finally one said we don’t know how our crop will turn out but we want to be good soil so we can produce a good crop.
What varied and insightful responses! And all from individuals who chose to listen to Scripture with new ears, and with a heart ready to receive and embrace.
What about you? I invite you to choose a favorite Bible story and sit with it long enough to let it say new things to you. I believe you will be enriched by what happens to you.
March 2017
(Note: A number of additional meditations are available on this website under Meditations.)
Ann Glover O’Dell
To see the Jesus narrative as our story does not diminish the life and death of Jesus. On the contrary, to see ourselves as God’s beloved child, with the capability of engaging in a unique relationship with God, just as Jesus was, can’t help but enrich his story. To see in the story not only the human/divine nature of Jesus but also the human/divine nature of all human beings is to complete the picture.
Our interest in all classic stories is enhanced by seeing something of ourselves in one or more of the characters. Both fiction and non-fiction give us opportunities to identify with real or imagined characters, to better understand ourselves, to see new paths opening up for us, to gain new tolerance and sensitivity to others’ situations, and to find comfort in sorrow.
The Bible doubles as Christian mythology where larger-than-life characters capture our imagination. We identify with Abram as he is called to leave familiar surroundings, with Joseph as he is scorned by his siblings, with Jonah as he resents the change of heart that occurs with the Ninevites. Classic literature and mythology always develop characters who embody some of our own traits. Otherwise, we could never identify with the tragic heroes as we do.
The soul we credit with belonging to every human being is nothing less than the essence of our divinity, the piece of God planted in each of us, not to give us bragging rights but to give us the abundant life Jesus spoke of, the ability to be the person God begat us to be.
A story presents so many more possibilities if interpreted on multiple levels. Can we not imagine that God wants us to glean the most possible from the stories told in Scripture? That God wants us to learn from the stories and characters to understand more about who we are and how He loves us? Oh, let us imagine greatly!
“ Behold the lamb of God that taketh away the sins. . . .” The consciousness of man, whereby God can be fully known in the flesh, is the lamb of God—God’s most precious gift to man (and with it his free will). This is what must be sacrificed—made sacred. For genuine intimate communion with God, man must be made sacred, must be transformed into God’s original design—not pre-consciousness but rather full conscious awareness.
This full conscious communion with God becomes possible as man freely offers his conscious will to God. God gives man his pure lamb of consciousness, hoping man will, after having made a demi-god of it in service to his ego, offer it back to God to be re-purified, made sacred, as only God can.
Our task in this God-man relationship is to “behold” our willful ego that can no longer provide for us what we most want— peace of mind and inner joy. “Behold” in ourselves what needs to die—what needs to become the blood sacrifice—the gift to God—made pure and sacred by his power and returned to us in a sanctified relationship—a communion of our spiritual essence with the essence of God. That communion of essences is indeed the holy meal that God wants to share with each of us.
Ann Glover O’Dell
23 December 2014
(note: The story of one person’s transformation experience may be read on this website under BOOK entitled Humpty Dumpty Hatched.)
We are seasonally out of sorts.
Winter did not come
and spring has usurped summer
o’erleaping gradual emergence
making handsprings of blossom
cancelling whatever June
might have had in mind.
Praise God for liturgically
wedding us to predictable chronology
where Easter follows Lent
regardless of the weather.
And after Resurrection plus five o
praise God again
for giving feast of fire and air
grounding us afresh on Mother Earth.
Our wings are lifted up
Our spirits fanned to flame
Our breath the breath of God
We see ourselves as burning bush
And repeat our own “I Am.”
Ann Glover O’Dell
20 February 2017
I washed the window of my mind
and sitting on the sill, looked out
for views of inspiration from my muse.
Parades gave me nothing as they passed
and wondered I where else to cast my eyes.
Suddenly a fine wind blew the casement open
and circulated dizzingly within
upsetting applecarts of art work
and opinions collected
during years of trips and education
contributing to theologies tried and true.
This fine wind sifted through it all,
blowing the stale and stagnant
into ingenious incinerators
then distributed assorted rainbows
as it exited toward the sea.
Ann Glover O’Dell
13 February 2017
“Fear Not! I bring you tidings of great joy!”—tidings too good not to be true—tidings all about you—tidings meant just for you.
“For unto you”—into you—within you—is waiting to be born this day right here in the city where you reside, in the home where you dwell, in this life where you live—your new bring—the holy babe that is the essence of God—the God-in-you that is your soul—birthed forth into your consciousness.
For within you this very day is the God child you always were, waiting to be born unto you
“And this shall be a sign unto you: you shall find the babe!” What assurance! We shall find our babe—no hesitation, no trepidation, no uncertainty. You shall find the babe—you, each of you, individually, shall find the babe—the babe that is you—the real you. There is no question about the outcome if –if you want to find the babe—if you follow the signs to the manger.
You shall find the babe, wrapped in swaddling cloths, wrapped very carefully in very special swaddling cloths—the protective, nurturing bands made especially for newborns, for warmth and security, swaddling cloths that only you can provide, swaddling cloths that only you will know how to provide, swaddling cloths that will be your top priority to provide for this new being which is the real you.
You shall find your babe lying in a manger. Lying in a manger—a rough unfinished bin—an unswept stable—might we say the unredeemed depths of your being? Lying in a manger—not just any manger—your manger, your rough bin, your unswept stable, your unsanctified depths.
And this will be a sign for you—you will find your babe lying in a manger—a place not far from here, in a place only you can find, in a place God is leading you to find, in a place you shall find.
Where is your manger? Your rough bin? Your unswept stable? Your unredeemed depths? Just listen. Listen and look with the ears and eyes of the heart. Listen for the ache that stirs deep inside you, the longing to feel fulfilled, the yearning to be—to be glad just to be alive—to be free from anger, free from guilt—to be—a new being—fresh and whole and cleansed, to be real, to feel loved unconditionally.
Listen for the ache and go to that spot. Listen for the message it has for you. Heed its instructions and you will be led to the manger—your manger—where you shall find all you ever wanted to be—and more.
And then what happened in the story? We’re told that those who went in search of the manger, after told by winged messengers not to fear, were transformed into laughing, dancing, shouting creatures who praised God for the miracle. That miracle is you!
Ann Glover O’Dell
23 October 2011
“The zeal of the Lord of hosts will do this.” (Isaiah 9:7)
Zeal indicates to me great energy, enthusiasm. The “zeal of the Lord of hosts” says to me that God’s great desire is to bring forth something special—someones special—you and me.
In spiritual terms this suggests the bringing forth of the new being in each being, the full being, combining both human and divine natures.
Scripture doesn’t say the Lord wishes this were so or hastens to ask man to effect the desired outcome. No, Scripture says the Lord will do it—will do it through His zeal. An additional promise from God, suggesting an additional covenant initiated by God. A covenant with the articulated response on man’s part: that God be allowed to carry out His desire. The individual freely chooses to cooperate with the process. God asks us to give permission, just as did Mary in the Nativity story, out of our free will, to let Him use our spiritual womb.
The ‘Savior’ is the part of our personality that transforms us by dying. The ‘Savior’ is the best we know ourselves to be—the part that needs to offer itself to God in order that God might accept it, purify it, and return it to us as part of the best He knows us to be.
23 December 2014
On this website under Meditations I have posted nine dealing with Christmas themes. I hope you will want to take a look at some.
We can use Jesus as our model in our relationship with God and ponder his use of “Abba” when referring to his father. God wants to be the same kind of parent to us as he was to Jesus. He invites us to use whatever name to call him that will evoke for us what “Abba” did for Jesus.
Our task is to find that name, invent that name that represents what we need God to be to us. Then use that name in periods of quiet when we are open to experiencing God in greater depth. We are to embrace that name as our secret with God. We are to allow ourselves to grow into the deeper relationship that the name affords
Praise to Thee, O Lord, Creator of the Universe,
Who brings forth from your earth womb all life.
Praise to Thee, O God, Sustainer of the Universe,
who gives life the abundance Thou designed for it.
Praise Him who places godhood
in the center of our being.
Blow Holy Spirit, Wayward Wind,
with all thy special power
come stir again the old desire
in us who yearn to flower.
Rain into us the fullness
of the morning dew
made into streams
that penetrate our roots.
Make green the carpet of our days
that we, lured into verdancy,
might sprout new buds
and bloom as never even
once upon a time we dreamed.
Press down upon us sunshine
of the vision in your mind
of who we were and are and yet to be,
always within the firm embrace
of thy mysterious trinity.
Ann Glover O’Dell
30 May 2002
What do we make of grace?—
that mysterious component
of the one we call The One?
And ‘the call of Grace’ that beckons our response?
Does ‘grace’ define forgiveness
or contain something more?
Does ‘grace’ include compassion?
And share equal bill with love?
Perhaps the call of Grace
an invitation hand-delivered so-to-speak
by Holy Spirit messenger
disguised sometimes as heaven’s hound
full cognizant of needed scent
whose Master has but to loose the bonds
that hinder him from leaping forth
to find the trail and once come near
nip at our heels until we turn relenting.
Ann Glover O’Dell
19 September 2016
HOW CAN WE BE AT PEACE?
How can we be at peace when
spirit’s doors are locked against it?
Locked and bolted ‘gainst
we know not what for the
unknowing makes us fearful still.
Fearful of whatever lies beyond
paltry presumption of control
beyond concentrated consciousness
that knows so little
understanding even less.
Fearfulness that lies in wait
albeit quite against its will
for frequent fear is nonetheless
predictable and anxious huddling
in its womb is still more
to be desired than any sort
of openness to expectation’s
swaddling cloths of vulnerability.
How senseful that our fear
that chronic lodger
continues welcome with its stale
foul breath and stained attire
when we the landlords
with our legalese
could if we dared
advertise our “rooms to let”
and interview new prospects
always with the veto power
tightly clutched within our ring of keys.
Ann Glover O’Dell 19 April 2004
NOT AS THE WORLD GIVES
‘Not as the world gives’
is your peace you said
yet we would be
content just now with
what the world defines
since such unpeacefulness abounds
we cannot entertain the notion
of a state within
when all about us
life’s demise looms large.
Power plays take center stage
and those rehearsing roles
soon star in great performances
surprising e’en themselves
with prowess and precision patterning.
Oh greed where is thy pain
which piercing self to inner well
of generosity so makes our
substance sharing
more to be desired
than much fine gold?
Where is the understanding
of that peace not understood
by mortal minds but mandates
light’s deep penetration of the
soul’s storehouse of truth?
Is there a spirit energy
encased within your peace
propelling us
to show the world the way?
Ann Glover O’Dell 20 June 2004
BLESS AGAIN!
Oh, One, who once in time blessed
world with your creation
who promised greater blessing
to begotten and beloved
who blessed with beckoning finger
a journey from the known into adventure
who blessed with ripe womb fruit
the barren and despairing
then tested trust by bid progenicide
who staged new blessing by surprise deception
dishonor and a wrestling match
who blessed by rank denial the boons requested
and blessed again with secret benediction
the ones you named your one and only ones.
Oh, One, come bless again!
o’erturn the graves of hatred
revive still births of spirit
spill out the coffers’ gold.
A Jubilee we seek, we need
where all now cleansed and shining
is ready for the new creation song.
Ann Glover O’Dell 4 June 2002
Easter me, O God
Easter all
who sense a never-ending
Gethsemane
Golgotha
or emptiness
relentless in ennui
of soul.
Easter us
as sure as lilies bloom
ere winter’s past
as sure as sun rise
heralds end of night
as sure as Eden tree
grows from a single seed
in skeleton shadow sown
remaining after all the old has died.
Yes
Easter once again
and again
and again.
Ann Glover O’Dell
26 June 2009
Jesus is everyman. Jesus is us. He makes mistakes. He becomes angry. He needs quiet time. And all the while he is trying to minister to others in the way he believes God is calling him to do.
Jesus truly cares about others, and his compassion is shown in many examples throughout the gospel stories. He also recognizes his need for companions, for close friends, and for time to examine his own motives and goals.
Aren’t we like Jesus? Haven’t we set out to make ourselves into the best child of God that we can be? Aren’t we showing compassion and generosity to our fellows as we are able? And don’t we recognize our need for community and enrichment and ways to keep our bodies and minds and spirits healthy?
I think yes.
So what is lacking?
What is lacking is our awareness that we are God’s Christs. We recognize our humanity. In fact, sometimes it is too much with us. What we don’t experience and can’t find in all our thinking, reading, talking, acting, and even praying, is our divinity–the experiential realization throughout our entire being that God takes delight in dwelling within us, and that we are useful to God simply by being his holy, cherished Child.
So how do we achieve the goal of experiencing divinity within humanity? We might begin with a letter to God–asking the genuine questions we may not have ever before put in writing. See what happens. My hunch is that God would welcome a dialogue with us.
My experience is that God wants our participation, our cooperation in this miracle of making us know we are his Christs.
(Note: a personal story of experiencing divinity is available on this website under Book)
The five senses are perhaps adequate for perceiving our external physical world but too limiting when it comes to experiencing God. Long has man recognized a sixth sense, a possibility of perception quite apart from the other five, yet often even more valid. A tingling in the brain, a notion from an unidentifiable source, a bulb of an idea bursting into consciousness, or something even more difficult to describe. These are the knowings that give us something the other five cannot produce. And yet when linked with hearing, seeing, etc., this numinous sixth sense can permeate and transform them all into sacral vessels of appropriating the grace of God.
(Note: The sixth sense became magnified into conscious awareness as a result of an interview with my Inner Wisdom, the story of which is included in the book, Humpty Dumpty Hatched: A Personal Transformation, available on this website.)
Without love, the essence of God filling our frame, we become a noisy gong and a clanging cymbal—percussion instruments making noise but enhancing no melody. Without the fullness that love provides, our words are depthless, our behavior erratic, our attachments superficial. Without the Spirit of God blowing through us, which is the intention of love, we are manikins attempting to be humans, moving by winding up our self-created key.
We must be willing to offer our tinkling, clanging pseudo-self to be incinerated on the rubbish heap with all the other falseness in us that needs to die and give God a new invitation to fill our orchestra pit with music.
Holy Scriptures tell of the Creator placing man in a beautiful garden—the most idyllic place the Creator could provide. Not just beauty but life—growing things—the world of nature’s flora all around. All for man’s authentic enjoyment. To experience the ripening of all that had been planted.
Our own personal Eden awaits us. Multifaceted beyond imagination. Peculiar to our own personality. The garden of delights spoken of in much poetry and many religions. A place where creativity abounds.
In Paradise man’s only task was to ‘tend’ it. To ‘till and keep it.’ To ‘cultivate and guard it.’ What a job description! To continue what the Creator had begun! The Creator didn’t say ‘work’ in the garden. He said ‘tend.’ To attend to, serve as an attendant, watch over, foster. Tend involves a combination of work and play—so satisfying that one would never refer to it as the unpleasant labor we frequently identify as work. So satisfying that it becomes our ‘bliss.’
The ‘bliss’ Joseph Campbell so often spoke of exists in our center, in this idyllic garden, the ‘bliss’ we are to discover and ‘follow.’ We ‘follow our bliss’ by tending to the ultimate pleasure that we find in the center of ourselves. Tending to it in a way that enables it to grow, mature, ripen into fruit that others want to share.
Our Secret Garden is individual, unique. Our own personal flowering. The more we visit it, the more interested in it we will become. And the more it will reward us. Just as a flower gardener exhibits an awareness that notices all sorts of needs of his plants—water, mulch, sunlight, the transformed individual becomes more sensitive to his inner self—and to others as well.
A new plant (idea) will bloom only slightly perhaps on its first emerging. The next time it blooms you may see several more than a single bud opening up. Subsequent blossomings may reveal an evergreen perennial full of beauty, rewarding us each time we visit it.
Visiting the garden, paying attention to it, really looking and seeing is the only fertilizer it needs. Simply pay attention—take time to be quiet, to have paper and pencil ready, and ideas will emerge, sometimes tumbling out on top of each other like a virtual computer bouquet.
In our garden we find nourishment for the gifts of the Spirit we’ve been given—those gifts of love, joy, peace, patience, kindness, generosity, faithfulness, gentleness, self-control. What we find in our garden is the ability to nourish ourselves with these gifts and then nourish others with them as well.
Our inner garden is indeed secret. Our garden of spiritual delights. We may want others to appreciate its loveliness but they cannot. All we can do is describe what we are seeing, albeit obliquely and in limited terms—none of which do justice to the pleasure and excitement our garden gives us. All we can do is encourage others to do the necessary in order for their own garden to appear.
If there is any doubt that you have an Inner Wisdom dedicated to your well-being, consider the following:
–Think of an incident when a creative idea or humorous response erupted from your mouth without seeming to have passed through your mind’s judging facility.
–Remember an occasion when you felt the need to call someone only to hear the phone ringing as he called you.
–Recall some problem you tried to solve, working at it long and hard, only to find when you gave up that the problem seemed to solve itself.
All these are glimpses of the enormous inner resource at our disposal, ready to make our being playful, creative, compassionate. Inner Wisdom is part of the vast unconscious part of our personality. Its powers are benevolent. It does have, however, a mind of its own. It cannot be coerced into following the dictates of our will, but it is ready to serve us well when we are ready to cooperate.
Consider a test:
Tell your Inner Wisdom you want to want to do something. Something you have not been able to make yourself do or want to do. This is different from “Help me do___.” Wanting to want to do something is asking our Wisdom Energy to give us the impetus that makes us want to do some task that needs tackling.
Pick something you’ve put off—something you dreaded beginning, something you’ve not been able to make yourself finish, something you wish you had never committed to. Consciously say, if you can mean it, that you want to want to do that thing. And then let go of it. Chances are in the not too distant future you’ll have a surprise.
That same summer the director of a new residential treatment center for drug and alcohol addiction came to my church committee with a request. Would we participate with some others in providing an encouraging Sunday message for the residents of his facility? I was delighted with the opportunity.
My family would be satisfied that I had somewhere to tell my story where they would not feel embarrassed. And I would have a monthly opportunity to interact with people who wanted a new beginning. I was eager to see if they would respond positively to my ideas and my story.
And they did. For 32 years they have continued as I have been taking meditations to Haven House and telling my story as well.
My first message was entitled “Good Grief!” (summary follows)
Ecclesiastes 3:1-4 says “For everything there is a season, and a time for every matter under heaven: . . . a time to weep, and a time to laugh; a time to mourn, and a time to dance.”
Job 17:7 says “My eye has grown dim from grief, and all my members are like a shadow.”
II Corinthians 7:9-10 says “. . . I rejoice, not because you were grieved, but because you were grieved into repenting; for you felt a godly grief… For godly grief produced a repentance that leads to salvation and brings no regret. . . .”
Jesus wept over the death of his friend Lazarus, wept over his inability to win Jerusalem to the kingdom of God, and grieved over his own impending death. More than anything, the grief of Jesus points to our own basic need to grieve over ourselves. I invite you to consider using this time in your life to do some proper grieving over yourself—some Good Grief.
Grief may be the most important emotion in our lives. It certainly damages us if we do not pay attention to it. Stages of grief can include anger, guilt, remorse, and feelings of loneliness, helplessness, and despair. Often we get stuck in the guilt. Guilt which produces tapes that keep playing over and over, telling what we did and didn’t do that we are ashamed of.
And the loneliness. And the despair. I urge you to allow yourselves to go beyond the guilt and loneliness to let your grief go even deeper than you have let it go until now. Our natural reaction to negative emotions is to try to ignore them or push them down or run away from them. You have already acknowledged that your response has been to try to escape.
My experience convinces me that the only way we can get through with our grief is to turn and face it—to actually give it permission to let it take whatever expression it chooses to take, whatever form it needs to take to work itself out in us and heal us. A written dialogue with what it eating away at us is what is needed to learn that something deep inside can do for us what we cannot do for ourselves.
Grief is an emotion that cannot be denied if it ever is to disappear. The sadness must be permitted, experienced to the fullest. We must shed all the tears that have been bottled up inside of us in order for all the guilt to be washed away and joy emerge.
Someone has defined laughter as the soul’s most perfect prayer. After our painful, paralyzing time of mourning, authentic laughter will return and with it a special kind of joy. Look at what happened to Jesus as a result of his tears. He was able to raise Lazarus from the dead. In his death the old body died and a new personality was born. Not only the Jerusalem he wept over but people all over the world have followed him as disciples. The same kind of amazing power will happen in our own lives.
I urge you to get on with your grief work.
Marveling at the sheer absurdity that such a miracle could/would happen to me, I began to ask, “Why me? Why has this happened to me?” And immediately and consistently the answer came, always the same.
“Why not you? Why not everyone!? “
I realized that of course the same transformation is intended for everyone. Like the bedraggled Grizabella in “Cats!”, I needed it at the moment perhaps more than anyone I know. I was sure, however, anyone and everyone who needed and wanted what had come to me could have the same thing.
I wanted to shout my story from the rooftops, tell everyone I knew about my miraculous experience. My family accused me of deciding everyone needed an experience like mine. They weren’t far wrong. I became more and more certain that everyone who wanted the freedom and joy that had come to me could have it through a catharsis similar to mine.
With few exceptions, my friends wanted to label the sickness I’d be through a rough virus. Some, when I mentioned miracle, seemed surprised to the point of being fearful, perhaps that I was going to harass them with some born-again story. I wish they had let me.
Several of my closest friends easily recognized that I had experienced something life-changing. And said so. They could hear it beyond my words, feel it in my voice, and sense it in the calmness I exhibited.
My mother suggested I begin writing the experience. So in the summer of 1982, I began making notes and constructing an outline. I jotted down quotes from the hilarious incidents that immediately began to prove—as if I needed further proof—that something absolutely extraordinary has occurred deep in my psyche and was being felt throughout my personality.
All the confessions and apologies began a trip into the depths of remorse. Besides the side of me that needed to be right and in control, there was another side of me. A me that had set out to make myself into a good person. I realized I hadn’t accomplished that and there was no starting over.
The remorse produced a kind of spiritual despair that is indescribable. I felt an empty space inside that cried out to be filled with something good. But I could find nothing good to put into it.
The next morning a telephone call asked me to help with a funeral at my church. I said I had been quite ill and was unable to help with anything. My caller did not urge me.
As I hung up the phone, a voice came to me. It called me by name and said was its child. It told me I didn’t ever have to do another thing. That all that was intended was just for me to BE.
I heard it in my head and I experienced it all the way to my feet. All the anger and guilt and despair disappeared. And what came into the space inside was a kind of joy I never expected to experience.
I began to laugh—at the unimaginable absurdity that such a miracle should happen to me. The laughing felt wonderful. I realized I had never laughed like this before—a laughter that came from a sense of well-being throughout my entire body—and mind—and spirit. And the laughing was such fun that I kept on laughing.
Reluctantly, my family agreed to sit down together and listen to what I had to say. They were exhausted by my uncontrollable and inexplicable sobbing. It was painful for them to watch me, be with me.
What I had to say was nothing short of amazing. I asked their forgiveness—forgiveness for all the times I was wrong and should have apologized but wouldn’t. As tears flowed again, I told them how sorry I was for being the way I had been.
The way I had been was a woman so determined to be in control, to be right, that I never admitted I was wrong, said I was sorry, for ANYTHING. Even when I knew beyond the shadow of a doubt that I was wrong, I would not admit it.
When verbally backed into a corner with my misdeeds, I would turn everything around and accuse a family member of making the situation look as if it was my fault when it wasn’t. I always put the blame on something or someone else.
My family was flabbergasted! For a while, speechless. Then they told me about the many times they had wished for an apology from me, and it never came. They told me they finally gave up hoping they would ever hear one. My family had given up hope of ever hearing an apology from me, and here I was confessing and apologizing for EVERYTHING.
As I repeated my tearful confession of guilt and shame, I could see fatigue taking over. What I had to say was so heavy to hear that they finally could listen no more. I think we all took naps that afternoon.
My husband met me at the airport as I was arriving home from a meeting out of state. As soon as I saw him, the tears I had been holding back with all my might for hours were released and I began sobbing in his arms.
“What in the world is the matter?”
“I don’t know.”
“What happened at the meeting to upset you?”
“Nothing. Nothing at all. I kept thinking on the way home that maybe something terrible had happened to you or one of the boys.”
“No, we’re all fine. Or at least I think so. Robert is still on his Boy Scout camping trip. He’ll be home tomorrow. But I haven’t had word of any problem. Now just relax and I’ll put in a call to check on the troop.”
“Okay,” I said, still shaking with sobs.
“Now, you know no news is good news, right?”
“Right,” I said, still sobbing.
“Well, let’s get your bags and go home.”
All the hour’s drive home I sniffled and wept, trying my best to stop. We reached home and the phone call was made. All was well in the scout troop.
And still I wept. I was frightened, more frightened than I’d ever been in my life. I had no idea what caused the tears but I couldn’t stop them. Through the night and the next day the tears continued. I believed I needed tranquilizers or other drugs, but a little thought in the back of my head told me that I would be all right only if I didn’t take any drugs. A therapist friend diagnosed the situation as a crisis and said I would get through it if I didn’t thwart the process with drugs or alcohol.
Sometime during the next day I was moved to ask all my family members to gather because I had something important to tell them. I call that now my Great Confession.
As I look back on my life-changing conversation with my Inner Wisdom, I think my pastor’s words to me were indeed inspired. He did not say go pray, read Scripture, etc. Instead, he said, “Listen to the message the pain has for you.”
The dialogue for any of us is not a courageous act, leap of faith, or surrender. Our free will is never compromised. It is simply a conversation–an interview with our Inner Wisdom. Questions and answers. Nothing more.
And yet so much more! What we find is a force for good that wills us so much more than we can imagine. it can do for us what we cannot do for ourselves. Yet it will not coerce. It invites our cooperation–our participation in our own miracle through our permission.
Being so convinced in my dialogue that the force beneath my pain willed me life and not death, I readily gave permission.
“Are you ready?”
“Yes, let the process begin.”
No more questions, no hesitation. The resolution was so satisfactory that I folded up the piece of paper, put it away, and forgot that the dialogue had taken place.
Some time later the miracle occurred.
When I was a young adult, I named two things I vowed I would not allow to happen to me. An ulcer was one of them, even though no one in my family had been bothered with ulcers, and I had only once in high school been diagnosed with a “nervous stomach.” Throughout my 30s, however, and into my 40s, chronic stomach problems persisted.
The stomach problems were finally diagnosed as an ulcer, and I knew I had lost control of my life. As related last week, I went to my pastor for comfort, only to hear him give me a strange directive. “It sounds like a rebirth to me,” he said. “I think you need to go home and listen to the message the pain has for you.”
He had never said anything so unusual to me–or so important. I sat down at a table with paper and pencil and began asking the pain inside, “Why are you killing me?”
Immediately a response came. “Do you want to live or do you want to die?” My head began to think about my life and all the drivenness that seemed to motivate my every action. And I realized I did want to live but not the way I had been living. I realized I did want to live–to be glad just to be alive without any need to drive myself, without any guilt over not constantly doing, without any need to do at all.
And in the short conversation, I realized that something in me needed to die in order for me to live in that new way. And that I could not consciously sort out and kill the part that needed to die. And that the force beneath the pain in me could do for me what I could not do for myself.
And all it needed was my permission.
Ann Glover O'Dell 