Inspired by Scholastica

Joan of Arc said that God speaks to us through our imagination. If we imagine a more peaceful world, God is urging us to help create it. If we imagine a country where immigrants can feel welcome and safe, God is speaking to us to make it happen. If we imagine a time when people with opposing views can get together and work out a solution acceptable to both sides, God is inspiring us to work to bring it about. If you can imagine it, you can do it, we are told. Joan of Arc imagined she could defeat the English army and restore the crown to France and she did. Of course, she was later burned at the stake and declared a heretic, but centuries later she was proclaimed a saint. It takes a steadfast trust that God puts the creative spark within us to accomplish great things. Imagination requires change. If we try to hold onto the way things are, they will never improve.   We need to see beyond what is, to what could be. That’s how computers, jet planes and electric cars changed the

Each morning we have morning prayer at 6:30 except on weekends. I can barely get myself up at 5:45, yet others are up at 5 or even before. They walk, meditate, do laundry or have breakfast before prayer. We even once had a sister who wrote a poem every morning before coming to chapel. I am envious of these early risers. How do they unclog their brain in the wee hours of morning? It takes a lot of discipline to rise early and to be alert for prayer. Perhaps going to bed earlier would help, but many of us like to watch TV or read or play games before retiring. I'm sure age and health have an affect on our energy and awareness too. A routine and a schedule can keep us from lethargy and sloth even after we're retired.  Another thing that helps is to anticipate a new day of surprises and wonders. Each day is an opportunity to learn new things, to encounter interesting people, to see amazing sights.  No day is like any other day for those who are curious and aware. We need to pra

We have had a bitter cold winter in the Midwest along with snow, ice, and sleet. It is not over yet, but many of us are beginning to yearn for spring. Gardeners are looking at seed catalogs with great longing. Birds that have flown south are plotting their return. People who have been homebound for so long are getting anxious to be outside in warmer air. Farmers are watching the moisture and  temperatures, anxious to plant their crops. Every year spring transforms our dark, dead world into a miracle of rebirth. When the first crocus appears among decaying leaves, we cannot help but smile. These tiny purple and pink flowers are heralds that winter is over. Sometimes their brave petals even appear in the midst of leftover snow. It's no wonder that spring is such a favorite season. The Great Artist paints his landscape with a kaleidoscope of colors amid hills of verdant green. Artists and poets try to capture the beauty of spring. Wordsworth expressed his rapture in his poem about

Tara Westover I just read an astounding book entitled Educated , a memoir by Tara Westover The author is a 29-year-old woman who never went to school until she was 17. She grew up in a survivalist family in an isolated area of Idaho in the 1990's. Her father did not believe in public education, government, or medicine. Her mother grew herbal remedies and also served as a midwife in her community. All the children worked in their father's salvage yard until they left home. They were haphazardly home-schooled by their mother who had no credentials. Somehow Westover was able to find some books to study and passed her ACT test and got a scholarship to college. After graduating from Brigham Young University magna cum laude  in 2008, she went on to Cambridge and Harvard, earning a PhD at the age of 27. All during her education she tried to maintain ties with her parents who believed she had sold her soul to the devil. One of her brothers was bi-polar and was physically cruel