Blessing of the Moon

Lorica of the Moon

The blessing of the Moon 

Sister of Shadows

Lantern of Pathways

Gatherer of Tides

The blessing of the Moon

Watcher of the wakeful

Seeker of the Lost

Soother of the Mourning

The blessing of the Moon

Guardian of dreams

Mirror of souls

Wellspring of tears

The blessing of the Moon 

Sharpness of birth

Crescent of hope

Roundness of fulfillment

The blessing of the Moon

Angel of the desert

Witness in the garden

Mourner at the tomb

The blessing of the Moon

This night and every night

From the solace of sunset

'til the promise of dawn

Blessed Be

wordinthehand2012

A Lorica is a breastplate prayer

-a prayer of protection 

Feast of St Ebba

c615 - 683

Ebba was a princess, the daughter of King Æthelfrith of Bernicia and Acha of Deira. Her brothers were the Kings, Oswald and Oswy  and with their support she established a monastery at Ebchester and later at urbs Coludi, now known as Kirk Hill at St Abb's Head, latterly evolving into Coldingham Priory. This religious house lasted for about 40 years and was a double separate monastery of both monks and nuns governed by Ebba.

Legend says she became a nun to avoid the attentions of a certain Prince. Seems that women who want to be valued for who they are quickly turn to God. However, he refused to give up and it is said that due to her prayers the tide stayed high around Kirk Hill for three days and protected her.

Ebba was a great teacher and politician, bringing Christianity to the pagan Angles who had been settling along the east coast of Britain since the 5th century. 

The reality of life in the early Christian establishment was not always strict on sexual piety. Due to the noble background of members of the religious community, the monastery would also have been a place for eating, drinking and entertainment. While Ebba, herself was noted for her own piety, it seems that she would withdraw from the community rather than providing the necessary discipline at the monastery. As often happened when people are not naturally drawn to the rigours of religious life the monks and nuns found their own amusements. Perhaps she should have taken some instruction from Hilda who was seemingly ruling Whitby with a rod of virtuous iron.

It is told that St. Cuthbert would visit Ebba's monastery to instruct the community. At night Cuthbert would disappear to bathe and pray in the sea, to stop himself succumbing to temptations of the flesh. Very early one morning, a monk from the monastery spied him praying and singing psalms in the sea and as Cuthbert came ashore, he saw or imagined he saw two otters bound out of the sea and join Cuthbert in prayer.

Shortly after the death of Ebba, and as foretold in prophesy by the monk Adamnan, the monastery burned down. The  site was abandoned, and by the first half of the 8th century, as Bede confirms, the site was deserted. However the gifts of Ebba in bringing the Christian religion to this part of  Scotland was not forgotten, and in a book written about c.1200 by the monks of Coldingham, they tell of many pilgrims visiting the Kirk Hill and the spring at Well Mouth, located at the top of the beach now called Horse Castle Bay. St. Ebba's feast day is celebrated on 25 August.

Blessing of Ebba

May you know your own self

In the image of God's eye

May your own self be wise 

In the hearing of God's voice

May your own self be kind

In the speaking of God's word

May your own self be courageous

In the knowing of God's love

May your own self know itself 

In the image of God's eye

Blessed Be

wordinthehand2012

Lindisfarne Pilgrim

Here I am

Held in the palm of Your holy place

Fled from the gravity of daily life.

I perch on sun-warmed rock.

Heavy honeyed air is

Stirred by ancient breezes.

Almost beyond hearing

Seals sing Jacob’s mantra

‘Here I am’.

Poised on the promontory of faith

Sun and wind send their might against me.

And I stand, not bowed but exulted.

Fused to this place.

Sun Spirit,

Air Spirit,

Earth Spirit

Glorious Trinity of all You are.

Your breath on me is intoxicating, incisive,

Eroding pretence and artifice.

Leaving me standing bare boned

Before You.

Eyes closed against your crimson gaze.

Daughter to the island,

Sister to those gone before.

Here I am.

Blessed be

wordinthehand2012

Feast of Brendan the Navigator

St. Brendan of Ardfert and Clonfert, known also as Brendan the Voyager, was born  near the present city of Tralee, County Kerry, in 484; he died at Enachduin, now Annaghdown, in 577. 


For five years he was educated under St. Ita, "the Brigid of Munster", and he completed his studies under St. Erc, who ordained him in 512. Between the years 512 and 530 St. Brendan built monastic cells at Ardfert, and at Shanakeel or Baalynevinoorach, at the foot of Brandon Hill. It was from here that he set out on his famous seven year voyage for the Land of Delight together with anything from eighteen to one hundred and fifty brother monks.


The old Irish Calendars assigned a special feast for the "Egressio familiae S. Brendani", on 22 March; and St Aengus the Culdee, in his Litany, at the close of the eighth century, invokes "the sixty who accompanied St. Brendan in his quest of the Land of Promise". As part of the journey, it is said that he and his monks came to ground on a small island that was actually the back of a great whale. Whether the journey was factual, geographical, spiritual or legend is continually under debate. Many historians and archaeologists offer their theories whilst navigators, shipwrights and sailors test their own skills to prove or disprove the tales. Perhaps their first question should not be 'is it true?' but rather 'what does this tell us?'. 


The inspiration of the voyage, brought pilgrims and students flocking to Ardfert. In a few years, many religious houses were formed at Gallerus, Kilmalchedor, Brandon Hill, and the Blasquet Islands, in order to care for those who came for spiritual guidance to St. Brendan.


Having established the See of Ardfert, St. Brendan proceeded to Thomond, and founded a monasteryat Inis-da-druim. He then journeyed to Wales, and to Iona. After a three years' mission in Britain he returned to Ireland, and followed his missionary path to Leinster, especially at Dysart,Killiney, and Brandon Hill. He founded the Sees of Ardfert, and of Annaghdown, and established churches at Inchiquin, County Galway, and at Inishglora, County Mayo. 


After his death,  St. Brendan was buried in Clonfert, and his feast is kept on 16th May.

A Brendan Blessing

May your life be held in the coracle of the Father's hand

May His vision be your sextant and compass 

May His Creation be a wonder to your eyes

May your life be held in the nets of His gentle Son

May his friendship be your crew and your navigator

May his peace be your food and your drink

May your life be held in the sails of the Spirit's breath

May her light be your stars and your charts

May she guide you through doldrums and storms 

May your journey be blessed by the Sacred Three

May you set forth each day for the Kingdom

May your heart be restless 'til you reach the Western shore

Blessed be

wordinthehand2012

Blessing of the Willow

Blessing of the Willow 

I have gathered my prayers

Rich sans script text on cotton rag

Bound in tooled Italian calfskin

Attributed, acknowledged, abridged

But not what I wanted to pray.

I have gathered my prayers

Iconic imagery in detailed stone,

Paint on canvas, hand carved wood.

Visualised, tactile, idealised

Yet not what I wanted to pray.

I have gathered my prayers

Exotic incenses, fragrant candles,

Oriental oils and balms

Perfumed, aromatic, miasmic

Still not what I wanted to pray.

I stood at the window

Dumbstruck, tongue-tied

Full of unspeakable words

And I saw her in the garden

Praying.

Complete in herself

Firmly planted in the earth that

Gave her life.

Arms raised to the light of Heaven.

Bare faced against the elements.

I watched as her heart called out

To the God who made her

In joyful thanks

For her place in the Pattern

For her chord in the Song.

I felt the Spirit bless her

Loving fingers through her hair

Along the length of her body

Whispering Creation’s secrets

Sharing in the Word of Life.

Then I went into the garden

Words pouring from heart and mind

A true call from self, from longing

I spread my arms beside the willow tree

And joined her in her prayer.

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Shield of the Morning

Be my Shield

I call on the Sacred Three

To be with me this day

To be Life so that I may live

To be Love so that I may love

To be Hope so that I may hope

I call upon the Father

To be my shield and my breastplate

To give me the strength to do my duty

As the defender of what is true

And to know my duty is to Life

To protect the weak and the helpless

To seek the better Way.

I call upon the Son

To be my Path and my Pathfinder

To find the roads of the Kingdom

To give me a heart that sees the truth

In a world where truth is led astray

To see beneath the grime of distrust

To the shining light of goodness.

I call upon the Spirit

To be my eyes and my sentinel

To give me wisdom and courage

So that I may act with integrity

To be a hand of mercy

To bring hope in darkness

To do what is right

The Sacred Three to be with me

To be my shield

This day and forever.

Amen

wordinthehand2012