Shining Spirit

It might be said that each of us is a mirror reflecting the experiences that have made us who we are. What people see today is a kaleidoscope of my yesterdays. The joys, the fears, the affirmations. You and I are complex creatures who, over time, adjust and adapt into the people we are today. The question is: “Who will I be tomorrow?” And that question, perhaps rephrased into: “Who am I?” is the doorway to discovery. It’s a sacred question, a holy wondering. If and when you ask it, the light is beginning to slip through the cracks. Regardless of faith traditions, people have expressed this holy wondering for ages. Your next door neighbor, people in the Great Depression, St. Paul in the magnificent Letter To The Romans, Moses, the male and the female who emerged from a cave, looked up into a starlight night and wondered: Why? Who? Am I merely the sum of my parts, my experiences? I offer you this answer: I am made to mean something. I am not an accident. I count. And so do you. Yesterday I collected stones washed up on the beach. Each was different from the other and they all glistened in the surf. The water covering made them shine. But when they dried out, the luster was gone. It was the water that made them beautiful in their diversity and in their commonality. The water of hope, of faith, of sacred awareness brings together all the experiences of our lives. The Christian scriptures called it Living Water.
I can never escape the reality of my experience, but that reality does not identify me, nor does it guide my way. You, either. In faith, in trust, in hope we shine because the sacred surf of grace, mercy, and forgiveness has washed over us. And the stunning truth is, the shining surf is a gift to every culture, every society, every race, every identity, every human being. Even me. Even you. I am not merely a composite of yesterdays. I am a creation, using my yesterdays, that shines in Living Water and walks toward tomorrow with hope. You, too.

Reputation: the estimation in which a person or thing is held, especially by the community or the public generally.

Reputation is the star that streaks through the night,
brilliant, flamboyant, amazingly bright,
as it leaves a trail of stardust behind,
a flash and it’s gone, not the usual kind
of star that fills the evening sky.

Reputation is a judgement that others make,
opinions about decisions and actions I take.
They define me by what they hear and see,
they determine the essential, public me.
I am the product of community.

Character: the aggregate of features and traits that form the
individual nature of a person.

Character is that star that anchors the sky;
reliable, stable, not needing to fly
in a burst of brilliance, here and gone.
It’s the beautiful sounds of a classic song,
not a pop-star that fades over time.

Character is built one stone at a time,
deeds that are just, enduring, kind.
It’s not about who people think you are;
their opinions won’t carry you very far.
It’s what you think of yourself.

Two words describe the lives we live,
reputation is what the community gives,
character, on the other hand,
is the inner measure of a thoughtful man,
foundational stones put into place
by diligent effort and sacred grace.

We share this world with some truly amazing neighbors. I walked along the shoreline of this lovely lake the other day admiring the smooth, glass-like surface, the reflections of pines and oaks decked out in their autumn coats, the brilliant white bird that swooped low over the water. All the pieces of the neighborhood fit so nicely together and produced a very memorable moment. And as I ducked beneath the low hanging branches of a nearby tree, I felt those silken threads brush across my face, the unmistakable signal that you’ve just walked through a spider’s web. When that happens, I always hope no one’s at home. When I accidently wrap myself in a spider’s web, I always feel a tinge of regret. This amazing creature has spent hours, maybe days, constructing his silken home and I’ve destroyed it in a matter of seconds. And now, if the spider family is to catch another meal, they have to start all over again, thanks to my inattention to the almost invisible. The handiwork of creation is stunning, isn’t it. The colors and textures, the sounds and smells, the “in your face” obvious and the subtle, almost unnoticed delicacies are, all together, breathtaking. Can you remember the last time you were stopped in your tracks by unexpected beauty or by a sacred surprise? Experiencing grand moments is rewarding, but there is something extraordinary about a soft breeze moving the silken threads of the spider’s home. Make a memory today. Be alert and aware, attentive to the Presence that is endless and inviting. All is gift, and all is yours.

I had an opportunity recently to visit a very special place, a quiet place, a peaceful place, and I took it!
It’s a small lake with a short pontoon dock, just big enough for a few chairs. Birds visit and fish jump and the quiet is very loud. Just right. And it appeared in my life just at the right moment. Just when needed most. What a gift of grace, through the generosity of my family and the welcoming love of The One who created all this stunning landscape. All of us need to drink deeply from the well of renewal periodically, that place of refreshment and re-creation. A word of encouragement and caution: don’t wait for it to come to you. Find it, and once found, be in The Presence until you feel the wounds heal, or the clouds lift, or the focus sharpen. Wise is the person who listens to the heart, takes the pulse of the inner self, and surrenders to The Sacred. Don’t wait.