Shining Spirit

These old, derelict mining carts are waiting to rust away in the Arizona desert. Another fifty years, or so, and they will be gone. They will have served their intended purpose, done their jobs, earned their keep. As for now, they’ve been put on display so everyone passing can observe their inevitable demise while remembering their essential usefulness. Nostalgia, they call it.

I took this picture while on the way to meet my 8-week-old great grandson. He’s fresh and new, sparkling, ready to take on the world. I pray for him. He’ll need my prayers and yours, too. It’s the way of life, isn’t it, that old things pass away and new things take their place. Manufacturers call it “Planned Obsolescence.” God calls it “Creation.” I call it necessary because for life to be innovative and exciting, it has to make room for the new while holding on to the essentials of yesterday. “Behold, I make all things new…” So says the Divine Voice in the Holy Scriptures of the Christian faith. Puppies and stars and galaxies. Old methods, outdated roadmaps, no longer useful mining carts.

Those who resist the inevitable are still part of it. It happens, not just to the best of us, but to all of us. Like it or not, you and I live in a transitional world, even a transformational world. I hope that doesn’t push your panic button. My alarm bells would be clanging all over the place, if it were not for my belief that change is Creation’s calling card and that when I live my life to the fullest — not for myself alone, but for the welfare of others — the process of transformation is my friend. “Behold, I make all things new…” Same voice that said: “None of us lives to himself alone, and none of us dies to himself alone.” So whether we live or die, we belong to Something greater than ourselves.

I can live with that.

Do you see what I see?
Do you see what sees me?
Graceful and beautiful, the deer paused
for a moment to say “Hello” then
bounded off into the woods.
It’s nice to have a friend stop
by for a moment, isn’t it?

Give thanks today for your friends
and acquaintances who bless your
life. What would it be like
without them! They are a gift!
Thanks be to God!

Rest in peace, beloved. Rest in the simplicity and in the beauty. Rest in the earth from which you came. Rest in the hand that made you and the heart that loves you. You are not forgotten. You lived and will live throughout time. But for now, rest in sweet Mother Earth. Amen.

In time the footprints will wash away, disappear into the moist sand and be gone forever. But, in the meantime, the prints point toward a destination, a place that lures them forward over large stones and through narrow crevices. They are planted with a certain determination. The stride is long, most of the weight of the anonymous person is toward the toe, suggesting a running motion. In a hurry? Late for an appointment? For a meeting with a lover? Much and little are known by the fading footprints. Just that once a human being passed this way and left a momentary mark on the planet. What can be better than looking back over one’s shoulder and seeing the evidence of having lived, even if for a short time? Footprints fade, but the sand knows forever that someone passed this way. I expect no more. I desire no less.

Today I’m going to be where I am. I will not be in yesterday’s regrets, nor in tomorrow’s fantasies. Today will be enough for my mind to consider, for I know the phone will ring and happiness or sorrow will speak to me, the letter will arrive and I will tear it open with expectant joy or I will lay it aside for a stronger hour.

Today I am going to be where I am, fully aware of my heart, my window to the Sacred Mystery defining me and this moment. Very soon the sun will rise on a common day of minutes and hours, the ordinary arrives. But before the first rays flash over the mountain and bend down into the valley, all common will have been replaced by an invitation to Wonder, attainable only by this resolve:

Today I will be where I am. Right here. Right now.

Do you see anything beautiful in this odd plant? Anything? Creation comes up with some strange ideas, but then we have our standards for beauty, don’t we. Symmetry, balance, consistency. Maybe this was a mistake, an aberration, a bad day in the flower production department. Do you think beauty resides in what we call bizarre, like this flower? I do. O, yes. Without question. Sit with it for a few minutes and see if beauty breaks through. Forget the standards. Follow the Spirit.