Shining Spirit

Living on the planet Metaphor is both blessing and curse. Blessing because everything I see has a greater meaning, discernable if I stop and ponder. Curse because everything I see has a greater meaning, discernable if I stop and ponder. People who live on normal planets, like Earth, don’t get lured so easily into the forests of questions marks that grow here. But I can’t put all the blame on the atmospheric conditions of the planet. I could say no to the seduction of pondering. I could resist. I have the willpower. No I don’t. Geraldine, also known as Flip Wilson, used to say “the devil made me do it!” The devil gets a lot of blame for human weakness in the face of passing temptations.

So, about the water. It flows through a pump system in a concrete fountain that sits in my backyard. The fountain structure is about five feet tall, weighs more than I care to pick up, and has built-in lighting so that it looks quite nice at night. End of story. There is nothing more to say about this common water flowing through an ordinary stone fountain. Water is water. Nothing more to say. Yes, there is. How can you not see it! It’s right there before your eyes. The water in the picture is the visual depiction of creation, yes, that Creation. Ah, but I forget that you are a visitor on Metaphor.

See how the water flows so smoothly in the beginning. Tranquil, peaceful, smooth. Good water. But it doesn’t take long for that to change. Without warning, smooth becomes twisted and tranquil changes into a tantrum. That’s the story of life for a lot of people. It’s the average day. One man, who lived hundreds of years ago, finally got so fed up with life’s contradictions that he shook his fists at the heavens and shouted: “Why do I do the things I do and leave undone the things I know I ought to do?” You know his answer? The devil made me do it. Flip Wilson got his punch line from St. Paul. By the way, you can still become a saint even if your life is full of confusion and contradiction. I digress.

So, this is a sample of life on planet Metaphor. Dual planetary citizenship is available, if you’re interested. But a warning: You will be asked to subscribe to something called The Planetary Policy. It’s a bit like a creed. It says: “I will look until I see. I will listen until I hear. I will experience until I feel. And, I will welcome the inevitable inconsistencies of life as couriers of deeper realities.” Oh, I almost forgot: “I will tend and water the Question Marks that grow in my garden until they blossom into Exclamation Points.”

Now, about that water…

Did you feel the touch of the Maple leaf
fall softly against your cheek?
Or, sense the thrill of the Aspen’s flight
as it tumbled and rolled in the wind?
The darkening sky sets the perfect stage
for a ballet of colors and shapes.
Broad leaves from stately Magnolia trees,
whisps of color released by the Birch.
Down they tumble until caught in a
spiral that shoots them up, a
fountain of exquisite joy.
On and on they twist and turn,
Elm and Beech and needles of Pine,
willing captives of a single force
that animates all, no matter the species or name.
In the hands of the wind, the mysterious wind,
all leaves, though different, are held with respect,
endowed with the freedom to bless the world,
unique in beauty and charm.
See how they dance with elegant grace
on the breath of a purposeful breeze.

When God said, “It is good”
to all that had come into being,
God was looking at you…the
thought of you, the essence
of you. You occupy a place
in the universe, not because
you deserve it, but because
you are both gifted and gift.
The little piece of creation
that we share would not be
the same without you. You
matter. Make a difference
today.

In the evening of the day,
I remember with gratitude
the kind word spoken to me,
patience extended,
forgiveness granted,
peace offered,
love demonstrated far beyond my deserving.
And I am truly thankful.

In the darkening hours
I remember with regret
the harsh words I spoke to another person,
my bad attitude because things didn’t go my way,
my hurt feelings when I felt unappreciated,
the truth I ignored and the pain I caused.
And I am truly sorry.

Now in the darkness of another night,
Lord accept my gratitude and my remorse.
It has been a good day in many ways,
but I hope for a tomorrow better because
of your grace, your mercy and your abiding presence.

Wake me, I ask, with the gentle touch of your Spirit
and set my feet once again on the pathway of Jesus,
the pathway to the promise. Amen.

Wasn’t it Popeye who uttered those famous words: “I yam who I yam.” If you don’t get it, don’t worry. You’re just too young to know the fella I’m talking about. But for some unexplainable reason I thought of the cartoon character’s words the other evening when two people in a small group meeting read their spiritual autobiographies. There are about ten people in the neighborhood group, and over the course of several months, each of us has shared insights and information about our spiritual journeys, our Spiritual Autobiographies. As you might imagine, each is unique and a blessing to hear.

But the one common thread running through each is the impact or importance of relationships. Granted, sometimes that relationship was not positive or life-giving, but it was important in shaping the person’s life. We learn from each other, don’t we? We are influenced, sometimes for a lifetime, by the actions of significant others.

Who in your life played a role like that? Name the person or persons who formed you in your early years. Or, who guided you through that early development time. I have found that two words usually rise to the surface of our consciousness when we think of those who influenced our early years. Forgiveness and Gratitude. The Way of Jesus makes those two words pretty important. People who follow The Way cannot ignore them.

Would it be helpful for you to pull up in your memory the person or persons who influenced you, to remember them in the light of these two words? Probably. The effort might even bless you and those you remember.

I will meet you in the slow dawning
of the morning,
I will see you as you appear from
the fading darkness,
I will hear you speak my name out
of the exquisite silence,
I will reach out, place my hand
in yours, and feel the
universe tremble.
Your smile will ignite an
explosion of fragrances propelled
by the grand sweeping of
angelic wings.
I will meet you in the slow dawning
of the morning.
I will know you.
You will know me.
And we shall disappear into
endless delight.

O death, where is your sting?

Camera in hand, finger on the trigger, ready in a moment’s notice to capture elusive beauty. I stalked it. I felt it in my bones, a flash of loveliness about to appear very briefly. Be ready. The hummingbird, here in one moment, gone in the next breath. A butterfly fliting from one delicious flower to another. Here and gone on the wind. A cloud formation posing in grandeur, then breaking up into rather common globs in an average sky. A sample of graceful beauty is about to open the door and pass quickly through my life. I will capture it in one click and admire it for weeks to come. If only that horse would get out of the way.

Some things are stately and serene. They invite a response of admiration. The Deer on the trail the other day. Stunning creature. Beauty is expressed in so many ways. The fluffy Kitten rolling across the family room floor, tangled in the ball of green yarn. The evening Sky just before the sun waves a final goodbye. O, the colors! Magnificent! This old world is awash in banners of beauty flapping in the winds of opportunity. I’m ready. Aperture set, sit very still lest the breakthrough of beauty is missed by my fidgeting over trivialities. If only that horse would trot off out of my frame. Beauty is about to appear. As I wait, I feel a rush of gratitude for all the amazing sights and sounds that fill my life with joy. Take a deep breath. Beauty is about to burst open any moment. If only that horse would move.

There he was, snuggled down in the blanket on soft, fresh-cut hay. Did he look into the faces of the curious, the shepherds, his Mom and Dad? Did he wonder about the men dressed in fine robes? They looked different, not like the villagers who also wanted a quick peek at the little boy. But, then, the question can be turned around: what did the foreigners think when they looked down into his eyes? I wonder about several things connected to this remarkable story. And up there, high on my question list is this: What gifts would have been laid at Jesus’s feet if the foreign visitors had been women? The Wise Men brought gifts fitting for a King Who Was A Child, treasures of great value. But I’ll wager that if the visitors had been women, the gifts would have been a new blanket to keep his warm, a new garment or two for traveling home, maybe a collection of items a baby and his family might need. They would have brought gifts to a Child Who Was A King.

How wonderfully diverse we are. Different in our understandings, our expectations, our hopes. When you sit next to someone in worship, remember that he or she does not think or act exactly like you. And, yet, that person is your sister or brother. Your family. We are all related through this child who claims our hearts and souls. Thank you, God, for wise women and men who are drawn by Grace to his birth in the world.