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Mexican Icon of Pentecost.

I think this is some cool feast. This is the day the apostles experienced the fire of the Holy Spirit in a great rush of wind and light. With a mind blowing arrival of Grace Himself, they could stop grieving in the upper room, hiding in uncertainty and worry and fear. It had been a wild ride for seven weeks, Christ was crucified, rose, appeared, cooked them fish, noshed with them, instructed them, chided them, comforted them, hung out..and then left. He promised to go prepare a better place for them and to send a Comforter and Counselor.

How confusing! So they huddled together, to wait, to pray. Were they confused about just what that meant…a comforter? Waiting is extra hard when you don’t know exactly what you’re waiting for…think any of those in that room maybe had control issues? Ok, well, I like to think so…(no, I’m not projecting, whatever do you mean?? Ahem.) I love imagining the scene of it, the rush of wind, the light, the understanding, the terror, the amazement, the joy. Were they knocked down, covering their heads and eyes in shock and maybe some primal fear? Ecstatic with, finally, full understanding, crying and laughing with joy? Wide eyed, holding on to each other?
I don’t know, but you gotta admit, it’s a great visual, very Cecil B. DeMille, don’t ya think?
I love Pentecost.
To think that the Holy Spirit, that ineffable Grace, is there for the asking, or begging and pleading (ok, me again). And what amazes me, every time, is that it really IS!
That just blows me away.

Sometimes things are hard. Sometimes things are utterly confusing or just deep down scary. Thankfully, enough, not too often. But. When I get to the point of being unable to even construct proper sentences and word phrasings, when my prayers of deep fear and worry are the most primal and I’ve lost proper adult speech patterns but still have the deep need urge push compulsion to pray – somehow ….I know that I am still heard. I know, that God knows my deepest longing and fear and can move past my babbling blathering gabble and the Holy Spirit can intercede on my behalf in prayer.

And He does.
That’s pure gift.
That’s Grace: the Holy Spirit, Comfort, Counsel.
And, why, yes, in the past six weeks I’ve been relying on that Grace a fair lot.
And for that I am grateful.
And that is joy, the deepest most wondrous kind.
To borrow a word from a dear blog friend, it’s wonderment.

So today I like to think of that wonderment of the apostles at Pentecost. I love a feast day. I imagine the apostles were filled with sheer wonderment, and in that amazing ecstatic electric event, they were then sent out to face the world….but not alone.
In my self absorbed microcosm of life here, I’m not thinking anyone is gonna be able to see any flames above my head {unless it’s my temper having gotten the best of me, again}. But for me the Holy Spirit is such a gift and I am so grateful for being able to call on that Grace when I need it {And to rely on it in my typically thoughtless way for the rest of the the time}. I don’t know what I’d do without it. And really, who wants to face life alone anyhow???
So, here is the prayer of the day, for me: