We at Mercy by the Sea have so much we want to share with you:
Inspiring and transformational quotes, prayers, poems, videos and books we discover or rediscover
Conversations with upcoming presenters
News and events about what's happening at Mercy by the Sea
Resources and thoughts on contemplative prayer, spiritual direction, the second half of life, emerging leadership, creativity, our relationship with nature and much more!
You'll find seasonal photos of the grounds — vegetation, trees and winged and four-legged creatures that make their homes here. We'll capture changes in the light and colors as the seasons change. So bookmark this page and come back regularly. or subscribe to our weekly eNewsletter where these posts will be sent to your email inbox.
The news of the Parkland, Florida, shooting stunned me and has left me somewhat speechless. How could this happen again in our “civilized” society? In our schools? So many young people! And teachers and staff. So much loss. So much hurt.
Since that day, I have been impressed and deeply moved by the commitment and cogent words, the poise, presence and pain of the young people who have taken to the streets and to the halls of governmental power. They are on the march and we adults had better stand up or step aside.
One morning last week I watched a handsome and brawny hawk make its way across Neck Road onto the branch of a naked maple tree. The hawk stared deliberately and intensely at me as I drove to my ministry at Mercy by the Sea. I have noticed lately an increase in the number of hawks soaring along Neck Road making their way to a tree home. In reflecting on this, I noted that with the sparse foliage at this time of the year, more is visible to us, and the number of hawks may not have increased at all, just my ability to see them. I realized that in winter we see more clearly and more deeply into the woods and into the world around us. We tend to hunker down in winter, look inside ourselves, and wait longingly for spring. As we do so, what was not clear to us before becomes clear — or, at least, clearer. This, I think, is the gift of winter.
In October of 2012, I wrote an essay as part of the Master Gardener application process. In that composition, I referenced Barbara Kingsolver's book Animal, Vegetable, Miracle. I had read her book the previous summer and became interested in sustainable and local agriculture. As a result of that interest, I decided to enroll in the Master Gardener program. To fulfill the volunteer requirement for the MG certificate, I chose to help at the Common Good garden and at Mercy By The Sea. I eventually concentrated my efforts at the Center because they desperately needed volunteers.
During a few days off recently, I enjoyed the novel All the Light We Cannot See by Anthony Doerr, a Pulitzer Prize winner. This powerful and moving book focuses on two young people during World War II, one from Germany and one from France, and their efforts to be good to one another during the most trying of circumstances.
