I am revisiting the Gospel of Thomas (again), revising the photographic meditations I created in response (and creating new ones). And I found this wonderful quote in Lynn Bauman's Study Guide to the Gospel of Thomas from Brother Tolbert McCarroll’s Notes from the Song of Life:“You are like a blade of a knife. When you were born your edge was sharp. But it did not stay sharp. With use it will dull and need to be resharpened. So at birth you were also given a whetstone. Your natural weakness is your whetstone. Through it you sharpen your edge. Without it you would remain dull."
... which reminds me of a Rumi quote:
I pulled a thorn from the fence of His garden,
and it has not stopped working its way into my heart.
There is this sense here that those things with which we struggle are gifts, bringing us closer to that which we are called to be. So today, as I listen to the pounding rain and watch the wind move over the water I sit and ponder: what are the thorns in my life? Where is the whetstone? What do they have to teach me? And how are they like Jesus' Crown of Thorns?
6 comments:
I cannot remember how I stumbled upon your blog, but each and every day in the months since, I have returned ... You are a lovely gemstone in my morning's mosaic of meditative reading. Thank you (so much) for sharing your many gifts, ponderings, musings and insights!
Kim
~from the Eastern side o' WA
Thank you! Whatever brought you here, I'm glad you continue to find refreshment... I so like the idea of being a gemstone in a mosaic!
Yes, gemstone...impressive imagery!
Your photo has MOVEMENT! I love it. Does anyone else see the thorns and flower move?
Kim
from the West side :O)
Um...no? I don't see the movement. But it's cool that YOU see it...
Maybe it's like those 1960's black and white graphic designs that seem to pulsate with movement. The thorns seem to radiate outwards causing the bloom to open further. I love it! Is is a type of thistle or what is it?
Yes, it's a thistle, taken up on Shaw Island I believe. Nasty looking, though; meaner than the ones I grew up with in the East; not the sort of thistles Eeyore ate, I'm sure...
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