Please leave your link below and in the comment section so that we may visit you.
Dona Nobis Pacem ~ The Tundra Year
When we started peace globes in 2006, I wrote a post called The Silence of Peace about the influence of my beloved grandfather on my formative years and how he shaped the way I see the world. He's been gone a long time and I still miss him so much, but his words and actions live on through the peace globes that fly each year around the Internet world, requiring us to think about peace and what it means to us.
My mission was to see the words Dona nobis pacem (Latin for Grant us Peace) scrawled on the roughly 70 million blogs reported to exist at that time, just for one day. A simple idea of unity and intention. I was a naive new blogger, overly-ambitious, trusting in the goodness of people and the wisdom of goodness. My heart was full of expectation and joy.
Were there 70 million posts? No. But words hold power, whether seven or seventy. What happened over the years proved quality over quantity matters. We've become a lovely worldwide community of connected poets, writers and artists. When Blogging moved to many other social media platforms, the peace globes moved with them. And yet, each year, we find ourselves here again to blog for peace and share our thoughts with the world.
It's been my honor to speak peace with you all these years.
In the year 2025, I write to answer the question, 'What brings me peace?'
only to find that I've landed in the same truth. Full Circle.
Deep down on the inside of me I could feel it as I wrote it again. In 2006, I wrote about the day I first felt real peace in my life. And this year, it all came tumbling out on the blog page again, along with my tears - vivid memories, no abandon, no regret, now solidly entrenched in the core of this little blog movement. I wrote. You wrote. We all said the same thing from 214 countries and territories. Then came The Doll Box, river words, Papa's fedora and much much more.
So I honor my grandfather, my Papa, today.
Returning to the framework he built from day one, in my writer's eye I could see a wooden railing in a little country church, graced by the presence of a kneeling praying grandfather, who wore a white starched shirt and all the faith he had on his sleeve. I traveled back in time to a memory that is as clear and palpable today as it was in the 1970s and as it reappeared on this blog in 2006. What have I learned in twenty years? The.power.of.words.
One night he took me by the hand and led me to the altar with him.
He knelt down on one knee, elbow resting on the other, and silently voiced his heart. Tightly grasping my hand with his left hand, I knelt beside him, snuggled under the arm of his tweed jacket, surrounded by the presence of many such men who sought God that Fall revival night. In a country church in the middle of the middle of nowhere on a crisp autumn full moon evening, all of Heaven came to hear Papa and his friends talking to their Maker in worship and reverence.
They were surrendered.
I was mesmerized.
A buzz of spiritual language filled the room, groanings and cries, hallelujahs, amens, tears and pleas, laughter, joy, community. Then just as suddenly, and much louder ~ silence and stillness.
A Presence fell.
Is there anything more beautiful than a room full of true worshippers in unity, unashamed, locked in, gathered around a sacred wooden altar, holding court with God Almighty? I think not. I know not.
What a privilege it was to behold, to experience. My fourteen-year-old hippie-bent soul wanted more. From that day on, I ran after that feeling.
I felt the power, as undeniable as the appliqued flower-power daisy plastered to my jeans, as sweet as the smell of Papa's tobacco pipe-infused tweed coat, and as safe as the crook of his arm; the place where I loved to linger, where I learned to listen in the wee hours of a work morning as he gathered his things for the day, whispering "Dear Gracious Heavenly Father" as only a granddaughter can hear, as he lovingly lifted lyrics to Heaven on my behalf. They covered me. He covered me. Jesus covered both of us. Those words held connection to eternity. In turn, those utterings and unctions kept him reaching higher and higher. And I kept reaching for him.
Because he was the place of peace that I needed.
A place where his unconditional love yielded safety and calm.
A place where no separation exists.
He knew how to find it.
And I wanted it.
OVer the years he taught me how to find it by his example,
so that when he couldn't be with me, I could find it myself.
I know that Presence to this day, because Papa birthed it in me. He still holds my hand and I still hear his voice, rising and falling, gently squeezing my small fingers with each inhalation and nuance of prayer. Wherever the Spirit led him, I went too.
It was so holy I could barely breathe.
I've spent this entire year deliberately inserting myself into that space again. Distractions have plagued me, physical struggles have been challenging, sickness and stress. The toll on my mind and body has been significant. This has been a year of pain and falling down, only to rise and fall again, reaching for that space of quiet and strength.
I call it The Tundra Year -
a long cold winter of the soul and a short cool summer.
And yet....inside of me an arsenal of weaponry appeared, quite boldly, and firmly at my disposal. It smelled of wooden benches and tobacco tweed.
By the bedside on my knees, gently walking in the forest, weeping with frustration, calling on my Maker, hunkering down into healing Scriptures, studying remedy and science, writing, angry whining, falling again, questioning, rising and starting over.
Has your faith ever been tested in the fire? This was my year.
Then one day, just as surely as winter snow creates new intricate patterns on leaves in the forest,
a renewing of my mind fiercely began.
But it wasn't easy. The process caught up to my jagged wonky physical complexities and made the battle more intense for awhile. Like a flash of dangerous lightning attempting to disguise itself inside thunder, once more it tried to sap my strength and make me weak.
I began to say it. I am strong. I am strong. I am strong.
I began to believe it. I began to walk in it. I stopped falling down.
Until I landed in the Grace that had been there all along.
I am on a healing journey. I am strong. I am strong. I am strong. I am strong!
My journey of faith and prayer and peace began at that altar of supplication in the 70s, where I witnessed what it is, what it looks like, what it sounds like, what it feels like to focus energy and love and compassion with all your might before a Mighty Creator.
Likewise, we focus energy and love and peace and compassion with all our might on the world we share on the cusp of each November.
I am strong. I am strong. I am strong.
You must believein the power of your words. Say something. Speak right things over yourself, your family and your world. See yourself healed. See the world healed. Pray for your neighbors and your enemies. Lift your thoughts to a higher realm, where peace and rest is not only possible but expected.
Papa expected the world to change when he prayed.
So do I.
There is no other option.
Where's your altar?
Does your heart flow from there?
"Thou hast set all the borders of the earth: thou hast made summer and winter." (Psalm 74.17)
My Tundra has been no difference or worse than most everyone on the planet this year. This verse gives me courage. Papa would approve.
Why did he feel compelled to pull me to the altar with him that night? Why did he hold on so tight, forming an unbroken chain between my hand, his hand, and God's hand? It remains.
His act of love nd obedience changed the course of my life. In that moment I found God's peace for the first time in my life. Transfer. Synergy. Life-altering, Truth. Only Divine LOVE does that.
I still believe in the power of words as has been our motto for twenty years. I believe in the collective power of intention. I believe in you as you speak Dona Nobis Pacem one more time into the atmosphere. One voice. One subject. One day.
Happy 20th anniversary, Dear Peace Bloggers!
What started from a bowl of Papa's earth marbles has gathered writers and artists from all walks, religions and backgrounds speaking into each other and for our troubled world, just as Papa spoke his prayers and love into me. In summer. And in cold dark winters.
Powerful words spoken in love must make a difference ..... breathing and birthing and shaking and sifting towards change - in our own hearts first, where it always begins- until we reach the dawning of a new peace-laden world for everyone.
God speed that day and God bless each and every one of you.
All 2025 Blog4Peace participants! Leave links below and in the comments.
NOTE: 2024 links are included in this widget as well!
Please enter your blog link below so that we may visit you.
Dona Nobis Pacem ~
Hold The Light
The year was 1968. Martin Luther King, Jr. and Robert F. Kennedy had been slain. Our country was in turmoil. The controversial war in Vietnam polarized our politics and our hearts. Richard Milhous Nixon was about to become the 37th President of the United States.
I was about to begin my education.
It started at the back door.
A knock.
"Come on in, Joe!" Papa exclaimed with a laugh. "And Joe, come around to the front door. I'll let you in." In some areas of the south in the sixties, visiting black men in small town USA, still did not approach the front door of a white man's residence. Fifty-six years later, we've made progress...but there is much work to do.
I do not know the direction my Grandfather's politics would have taken had he lived to see this election, but I can promise you one thing: the candidate's social status, the color of his skin, his religious affiliation, political slant, or the cost of his shoes would not have mattered. Papa's welcomes were equally sincere and easily given.
The man needed a job. He couldn't feed his family. I heard low whispers from the living room and shuffling of money. My grandmother brought coffee and cake; then the front door shut.
Lesson one duly noted.
At my grandfather's wake, literally half the town showed up. There was a "colored" funeral home and "white" funeral home. It was out of the ordinary for blacks to visit the dead on the other side of the tracks.
But visit they did.
I heard stories I'd never heard.
"One day at work, your Papa noticed my feet were almost bare.
He gave me his shoes."
" He helped me and my family keep our home."
"He brought groceries to our house and in the winter he kept our furnace lit."
"He paid my telephone bill and brought toys for Christmas."
"He bought school clothes for my kids."
Apparently, he'd been sneaking around with blessing baskets for years. Then I started to remember those strange quiet back door whispers, "coincidental" meetings on the sidewalk, times when my grandmother had to suddenly whip up a chocolate cake, and rides in his station wagon to places he never talked about. "Stay here, Sis. I'll be right back," he'd say. I always wondered what those porch conversations were about. Now I know.
He was the bridge builder. And the door opener.
And the example of moral courage in my life.
He was my light holder
Today, when I visit his double-hearted spirit in the cemetery, I'm reminded of this photo. When I developed the picture long ago, my shadow had fallen across the stone. It looks as though we are perfectly in sync - still. Now, I choose to let my shadow fall upon his and allow his to fall upon mine. With whom do you align? Choose carefully.
It started me thinking how my time has eerily overlapped his time - a slice of American history that was shameful in so many respects - the abundance of ignorance, the quest for power, were just background noise to the voices that truly mattered...those that marched and voted and wrote policy.
What it boils down to is the right of all persons to be treated with dignity and respect.
Those voices still speak in us.
Collectively, we are more than a stump speech and a soundbite.
The voices of our time matter too.
Unrest and violence prevailed in 1968.
Unrest and violence still thunder in 2024.
Please hold the light for those in darkness
Please hold the light for those in need
Set your foot rightly,
for the downtrodden
might come to your door
Let it deliver and emancipate like Peter's shadow in the Book of Acts.
Let it heal people. Let it love people.
That's what light does.
**************
Peace Bloggers,
Please leave your links here and in the comment section below
When was the last time you held the Light for someone?
These days it seems that the whole world is stumbling around in darkness. If we listen to the loudest and most critical voices, we can easily come to that conclusion.
But it's not so.
We don't have to watch people stumble or be confused. We don't have to respond. We don't have to add to the momentum of suffering and deceit in this world by default.
Do you know that there are people who need you to hold the light for them?
Hold space. Hold the line. Hold the Light.
We're all having a hard time right now.
I'm not talking about judging them or trying to convince them to go your way - there's too much of that happening already.
We can love people without agreeing with them.
Can't we?
When I was a little girl, my Dad worked on cars and faucets and mechanical issues around the house. He could fix anything. I was his "light holder." I wasn't very good at it and sometimes he'd fuss if the caged light I was holding swerved to the left or the right. Why was he frustrated with me?
Because I had one job. ONE JOB.
And that job was to hold the light for him.
His task was daunting. It was dark and he was weary. He needed to SEE.
I couldn't see what he was seeing and I certainly couldn't help him; but I could stand steady and still, listening to his voice and directions, offering illumination and support.
He didn't need a play-by-play of why I couldn't hold the light still or what my opinion was about how he was fixing things. My opinion, my argument, my sass...didn't matter.
I had one job.
He couldn't do the job without me and that light.
(template to use)
You don't have to speak to hold it - just hold it.
You don't have to expose or uncover or guide or judge the path they have chosen.
You just have to be there and let them find their way.
AND SOMETIMES....holding a Light means railing against injustices and CHANGE that needs to happen!
Your words won't help them see
but the unconditional silent steady light and TRUTH flowing from you to them
held without judgment
without opinion
without directions
means that the one needing light has a clear path to make decisions
one that isn't muddied with your opinion, your "rightness" or the loudest voice
whether they're fixing a carburetor or mapping out a plan for world peace
or choosing the leader of the free world
The most powerful words of all are the ones we deliver in deed.
Sometimes that means standing still
and holding a Light
We can do that, right?
How will you do that?
That is the question I want us, as peace bloggers, to answer
************
Nov 4, 2024 Bloggers and social media posters from all over the world will
Blog for Peace
We will speak with one voice
one subject
one day
You may use the promo/text below on your blogs
Many thanks to graphic designer Ann Adamus!
The annual Blog4Peace event will take place on Monday, November 4, 2024.
This special event is held worldwide with bloggers, social media posters and individuals from over 200 countries and nations taking part. Below is a direct link to the Blog4Peace website with details, art images and more. Please visit and remember to post your art in support of Hold The Light for peace.
Welcome to the 17th launch of BlogBlast For Peace aka Blog4Peace. Please sign the Mr. Linky at the bottom of this page so that we may read your beautiful peace posts and visit each other. You can even enter your social media post url.
Most peace posts/globes stream on social media platforms instead of blogs. Doing a hashtag search will get you to many more postings in the coming days. Thank you so much for continuing to speak peace in the world.
Enjoy the view and be inspired!
Dona Nobis Pacem in the Blogosphere began in 2006 and is held annually on November 4th. Our theme for 2022 is "No Freedom. No Peace" and my peace post is called....
UNBOUNDED
I woke up smelling rain....
and thinking of dahlias.
Seeing a girl so newly married and in love that if you told her the sky was purple she would have believed it if it came from his eyes.
I was that girl.
Standing beside the carport of our first modest house, I was planting petunias and dahlias, covered in straw mulch, stardust and dreams. Perched beneath the eave of a green house under a peculiar blue sky, I remember the smell of that rain. Wondering if I'd get my flowers in the ground before the clouds broke free.
Soon the house would have new siding, brick window casings and a new front porch. And because the roof was flat and tarred, men from our church descended upon us early one Saturday morning, raising pitched rafters and putting on a new roof. It was like an old-fashioned barn raising in the suburbs! They wore blue overalls with pockets of tools and handkerchiefs. One carried Bible tracts in his back pocket and just before the work began, I heard a whole bunch of deacons high on my little green house say a hearty prayer and a big hallelujah amen (kind of like a Baptist football huddle but not...)
We suddenly had an attic and beautiful wood stained siding in the course of one day. I can still see my Dad up on the ladder, hammering and laughing with the motley crew, along with my father-in-law who covered his balding un-churched truck-driving head with a neck gator so that he could dodge impromptu Scripture-throwing and splinters at the same time. I needed to spruce up the outside with bulbs and patches of prayed-in dirt.
The year was 1979. I was expecting a baby and the move had been difficult. My mother-in-law moved boxes for me and put my house together.
I just wanted to plant things in the ground.
The chorus in the shingled sky continued. They hammered. And sang. And prayed. I ran as fast as I could from flying nails - as fast as a pregnant woman could run - and served iced tea, carefully and slowly walking barefoot through the grass filled with tape measures and lumber, wondering how we would ever repay them for such kindness
And then it started to rain
They kept hammering. But faster.
Everything in the universe is composed of five elements: wood, fire, earth, water and metal. I had all five elements on top of my house at the same time. It was like watching spiritual improv on my own personal green Mount of Transfiguration! Jesus told a crowd of people that His Father sends rain to the just and the unjust. During my green house days, I saw Him send rain on the churched and the un-churched.
My neighborhood had never heard such.
My house was transfigured in a day.
My heart was changed forever.
My African water jug
Which brings me to why I think I know what my heart was trying to tell me this morning some forty-three years later when God as my Witness, I sat straight up in bed and smelled earthy rain clear as day. Not a cloud in the sky outside. But I'm sure I heard a thunderclap in my bedroom. It came from way back in the suburban days of newborns and baptisms, deacons and dahlias...
Two simple words have been floating around in my consciousness for about three years now and they won't let me go.
Remove judgment.
The year of 2019 was a banner year of bodacious struggle, you see...literally raining down on my pencil head with a force so ungodly I didn't think I'd survive it and that was before the pandemic began. I had a right to hate. I had a right to seek revenge. I had a right to....to.....
undo myself.
Remove judgment.
That's what Spirit said.
I've been trying for three years to fine-tune that command. "But they did this..." Remove judgment. "And then they did that!!..." Remove judgment.
"But they deserve to pay for what they did. They are the unjust. Right?"
Remove judgment.
Finally one day I asked why. And the answer I got was like unbounded water falling off a roof.
Because yourfreedom is at stake.
The cloud that filled my room this morning
was the same cloud that kept those heavenly roofers hammering in the pouring rain
and is the same cloud that continues to transform me when life sends thunder and lightning.
Whenever I feel justified in judging no matter how justified it is
I hear those two words and stop myself lest it be my undoing
This morning my own sweet grandson gathered a pile of rocks, sticks and leaves (those elements...) and took them to the cemetery. He made an arrangement on top of Papa's marble headstone with great care and deliberation and I felt
the power of marble on marble, peace on peace, granite and wood and fire and earth
Sign the Mr. Linky below if you are participating or tag us on Facebook.
Ukraine peace globe templates found HERE. The event goes through the entire weekend. I hope you draw inspiration from the writing of others in these challenging times. Here are a few of the new peace globes coming in...
"We play an old Ukrainian folk song called Verbovaya Doschechka. Nine other young violinists sheltering in Ukraine join in unison, and are accompanied in harmony by players from London Symphony Orchestra, Tokyo Symphony, Oslo Philharmonic, the Hollywood Studios, and top violinists from all over the world including Ireland, the Netherlands, New Zealand, Belgium, Georgia, Poland, South Korea, South Africa, Moldova, Denmark, India, and the entire violin section of the Munich Chamber Orchestra!"
Announcing BlogBlast For Peace 2021 (aka Blog4Peace)
Welcome to the 16th year of peace blogging in the Blogosphere!
Welcome peace bloggers!
*Thursday, Nov 4, - Sunday, Nov 7, 2021
*NOTE: We have expanded the date from one day to FOUR days of peace blogging this year. Choose a day to participate or blog peace all four days! This gives people a chance to really visit each other and see all the peace globes.
No one on earth has been unaffected by the perpetual unfolding crisis of this global pandemic. We are still thriving and swimming and struggling a bit with its far-reaching effects. I believe it's always wise in a crisis to glean those nuggets of truth that rise to the surface and change us for the better. And despite our well-deserved grumblings and grief-stricken days, there have been transformations within each of us that perhaps only a scene of such epic proportions could produce. The fallout might rain down some fruit.
Notice it. Harness it. Strengthen it. Loose it to the world.
Courage: the ability to do something that frightens one or
strength in the face of pain or grief
Courage: the choice and willingness to confront agony, pain, danger, uncertainty, or intimidation
This is how I've felt since the pandemic began.
Can you relate?
Wire-walking on a smorgasbord of choices: Physical courage involves proceeding despite fear of physical harm. Social Courage. ...Moral Courage. ..Emotional Courage......Intellectual Courage..... ...Spiritual Courage. It's taken all seven forms of courage to walk this wire. All of us were forced to dig deep - right down to our core - and pull from that bountiful bucketload of courage on a daily basis. Life has become a kaleidoscope of neon colors on steroids since early 2020! What a global ride we are on! The things that really matter have been held to a light of specific and painstaking inspection. We are still in a mode of discernment across the world! You became caregivers, educators, fierce protectors of self and family, armchair scientists, researchers, questioners, and truth-seekers.
I contend that somewhere in that mix of human achievements is also a bounty of peace.
Peace that comes from simply doing what you have to do. Putting one foot in front of the other and doing the best you can. There's satisfaction in that. There's grace in that. And I don't mean finding peace at the end of the the tragic mess we're in, but peace in the midst of the mess we're in.
See that light?
It's in you.
Peace bloggers always know how to find it. It's been challenging the last two years to write about peace, but it's NEVER been more important. Your words have never been more powerful. Your words (!) oh, your words are truly inspiring and fabulous! The thousands of peace globes and posts you've created continue to alter the landscape of the hearts and minds of all who see them.
Give it your attention and ride this out. I promise it will be the best peace blogging year we've ever had - even and especially NOW.
Courageous Peace in a Time of Great Change!
What has your courage looked like in your life during the past two years? What does it look like now? I'm asking because you need to understand that those of us paying attention SEE your character shining through with every choice you've made and continue to make. My opinion on your personal choice doesn't matter. I've seen stress, illness and death knock on doors in my neighborhood.... only to be met with that one neon-colored beautiful word - COURAGE.
That's what matters.
How can we take this extraordinary fortitude and weave it back into the ordinary, if and when our pre-pandemic lives ever return? What attributes and/or personal growth have you noticed about yourself that you want to carry with you through the remainder of your days as we deal with an ever-growing chasm of dissent and division?
It's going to take COURAGE. It's going to take CONSISTENCY. It's going to take CONVICTION. It's going to take COMPASSION.
And where does peace fit into this equation? I contend that peace is a natural consequence of walking through grace....even when you think that grace looks like pain. If you made it through this far, peace IS a consequence. Keep holding on to that and don't let go.
When the world looks back at your life during this time of great change, what will they see? What will your story be?
It's going to take courage to manifest peace in these times.
That's my challenge.
Let's go. It's a launch!
See the thousands of peace globes from 214+ countries and territories flying in the Official Gallery @ blog4peace.com
Your peace globe and post will be assigned a number and placed in the Official Gallery at blog4peace.com. By participating in Blog4Peace you agree that your peace globe designs and links may be displayed on other social sites such as Facebook, Twitter, Pinterest, Digg, etc and shared across the Blogosphere wherever peace bloggers are found online, in the name of world peace and in the spirit of promoting this work. They may also be used in printed works and publications online and elsewhere by the founder of this movement, Mimi Lenox, in creating published works about the Blog4Peace movement.
Every effort will be made to credit, notify and obtain permission from the artist if and when the design on your peace globe template is chosen to be featured in printed works, books, or online publications.
If you do NOT want your peace globe design shared and made accessible to others, let me know the day it is submitted or simply submit an anonymous unsigned peace globe.
Otherwise, please understand that this movement is all about spreading the message.
Thank you for being part of this incredible community of peace bloggers.
About Sharing and Linking:
It is perfectly alright to SHARE via share buttons on social media sites from this blog. These beautiful creations and words should be seen and heard in the Blogosphere. However, images and links on this website may not be copied, downloaded or redistributed offline in printed works for profit or elsewhere online for profit without express permission of the blog author, Mimi Lenox. Uses other than sharing from a Share button is a violation of copyright.
We launched the 2012 BlogBlast4Peace season with a trip to the shore (real and virtual). I am already on the Atlantic. If you were here with us July 12 at sunset, even in spirit, then you were a part of the 2012 launch for BlogBlast4Peace. I can think of no better way to announce our November 4th campaign than a designated time for all to bring the same thoughts and vibes to the table....er...ocean. Then it won't be just me making an announcement. It will be all of us. I like it! Facebook Event page ishere. It was a great success. Thank you. Let the peace begin.
Take a peace globe graphic from this blog and post it on your blog or social media page. Title your post "Dona nobis pacem" (grant us peace). Write about peace and/or simply fly the symbol. That's it.
Peace Bloggers inhabit six continents and 214 countries Join us
Over 39,000 Fans from 214+ countries/territories and every continent on the planet are on the Facebook page. Joining us daily and on Nov 4. Incredible!
If there is a share button visible on this site then by all means share the peace! Otherwise, images and links on this website may not be copied, downloaded or redistributed elsewhere online or off without express permission of the blog author, Mimi Lenox.
