Little Altars Everywhere
May you find the little altars in your life, and may they find you today and always.
Dearly Beloveds,
In 2005, Rebecca Wells, the New York Times bestselling author of The Divine Secrets of the Ya-Ya Sisterhood, released its companion, Little Altars Everywhere.
Each chapter of Little Altars offers readers an invitation into the main character’s, Sidda Lee, childhood—her insights, adventures, sorrows, and joys.
While I enjoyed reading The Divine Secrets of the Ya-Ya Sisterhood, Little Altars Everywhere took hold of me in a way few books ever have, becoming a loving companion in my writing and spiritual life, a love letter to the altars and holy places that are, well, everywhere.
Wells writes,
We are swinging high, flying way up, higher than in real life. And when I look down, I see all the ordinary stuff--our brick house, the porch, the tool shed, the back windows, the oil-drum barbecue pit, the clothesline, the chinaberry tree. But they are all lit up from inside so their everyday selves have holy sparks in them, and if people could only see those sparks, they'd go and kneel in front of them and pray and just feel good. Somehow the whole world looks like little altars everywhere.
When I first read this passage as a young adult, it was like the holy sparks described in it started to light up within me. I finally found words that described how I understood the ordinary parts of my life—the dry ground of West Texas, the flat backyard at my childhood home, pecan trees, peach orchards, my mother’s hand, my father’s scars, my grandfather’s old pick-up truck, the fern plant my grandmother faithfully watered for years.
All of these seemingly ordinary realities were altars in my life, places I could go to experience the holy, honor the sacred, and give praise to the Life Force that was sustaining it all.
Perhaps this is why, to this day, altars are so important to me. The ones I create with things my family and I love, as well as the ones that are already created, just waiting for me to notice, honor, and kneel in their presence.
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Last week, I had the honor of creating a communal altar with my Writing as Spiritual Practice group, as well as the honor of sitting before an altar my spiritual director made with my healing in mind. Even now, I sit to the right of our family altar that holds stones the kids have collected from our hikes, candles, a plant, a family photo, Blessed Are the Women, and more.
Right here in the middle of it all, where we read, watch TV, wrestle, build, color, dance, eat, argue, and love, the altar lives, holding space for us even when we aren’t consciously aware we need sacred space to be held.
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Though we read a lot about men’s altars in scripture—the ones where a sacrifice is required in order to please a demanding and jealous god—I’m more interested in the altars women create in an attempt to honor a god full of love and light, wisdom and mercy.
The altars of the birthing room. The altars inside the Red Tent. The altars of flesh and bone willing to save their people. The altars of wilderness and cactus flowers. The altars of flint-making fire, bread-kneading dough, and basket-weaving beds.
The little altars that no one wrote about because they weren’t all that dramatic or visible but that existed, nonetheless, holding space, creating love, and keeping us alive.
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Where are the altars in your life? The places you go and the places that find you that remind you of the holy, sacred presence of God?
What do you offer at these altars, and who meets you there? What do they look like? What colors are present? What do they mean, and how do their meanings shift over time?
Perhaps there really are little altars everywhere just waiting for us to pay attention to their power and their love, holding abundant, never ending grace and mercy for us, reminding us we are not alone and that it’s not all up to us by a long stretch.
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Creating an altar can be a transformative spiritual practice. It need not be complicated or complex, only intentional and personal, beautifully unique to who you are and what makes you light up from within.
You can create one on your own or with sacred friends and family. My kids, though not always vocal about their faith or spirituality, find Spirit alive and well when they can hold a stone in their hand, light a candle, pick up a photo, or read a book.
Indeed, sometimes (oftentimes) all of us need something to hold onto in the midst of surrendering our lives to Spirit.
Another great paradox of our faith, we hold on to let go. We kneel down to stand up. We give to receive. We live to die. We die to live.
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Beloveds, the Holy is with us and in us, no matter what. And, it can be wholly transformative to tune into the space around us to see and feel and touch and know the Merciful One, the Loving One, the Delivering One, the Loving One right here, right now, thanks be to God.
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May you find the little altars in your life, and may they find you today and always.
With love,
Claire
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