Learning, Listening

I'm often struck by how much wisdom we must have traded away when we stopped living out in nature and started living among concrete. Nature truly does call out the Truth but you have to be so quiet to hear it, and patient to understand it. And we value being noisy and fast paced above all else. Here are a few whispers I have been learning and trying to live.

From the trees I learn to be strong, deeply rooted - and yet flexible enough to bend with the swaying of the breeze.  What a paradox: strength coming both from flexibility and lack of flexibility, each in its place and time.

From the river I learn to be willing, to surrender.  The water is strong and powerful and can hold or carry anything. But it can also let go, can become as delicate and fragile as a dew drop. Water flows, changing itself to fit, wherever a place is opened for it.  Its life giving force becomes destruction only when something tries to get in its way, unable to let go and surrender.

From the flowers I learn what to expect: nothing remains the same.  There is always change - life to death and death to life.  Yet another paradox - this constant change takes place on a stage that is always, always the same.

From the sky I learn that I am small - and my fears and anxieties much smaller still.  I learn that I should be silent at times for there is so very, very much I do not understand.

From the forest I learn than life exists only in a community, interdependent and connected to each part.  Who I am impacts everything; but at the same time I become small when drowned out by the joyous song of life.

From the bush, with its thick leathery leaves and thorny branches I learn that every creature has developed a way to care for and protect itself - so I can be patient and gentle with all those that I meet.

From You I learn all this, and more.  I wait for you.

The heavens declare the glory of God; the skies proclaim the work of his hands. Day after day they pour forth speech; night after night they display knowledge. There is no speech or language where their voice is not heard. Psalm 19:1-3

Apple Pie and the Universe

If you wish to make an apple pie from scratch, 

you must first invent the universe. 

- Carl Sagan

Thanks to my brother for the great quote. 

Dinner Times are Good Times

Actually, they're indescribably chaotic, loud, and messy. But who can resist something that cute?

Aforementioned Super Cute Spring Pictures

...and this is just the beginning.  You can see the whole album here.

Three

A and B were walking around with their Easter baskets, pretending to pick up eggs from around the house. A came to me with a bunch of blocks in his basket and asked me how many "eggs" he had picked up.

I counted for him - one, two, three, four, five, six.

He took one out and asked how many there were now. I counted - one, two, three, four, five.

He took another out and asked again. This time I had him count. With one finger jabbing each block he counted - one, two three, four.

He took out yet another, and began to count again - one, two, three. He looked up at me with his face beaming. "Three!" he said, triumphantly, "just like me!"

I looked at the three tiny blocks nestled together at the bottom of the basket. Three is such a small number, so tiny, so tender, so much more like one than five. Three is new-born, just-begun. You can hold three easily in the palm of your hand. You could very easily lose three. Three is like springtime, so fresh, so new.

I looked at my three year old boy. He is so big, so strong, so independent, so opinionated. He is intelligent - he knows things that I don't know. He is capable - he can do things that I can't do. He'll argue his point - and win. He'll make decisions - and you'll find they are better than yours was.

A is so strong and grown up. Three is so fresh and vulnerable.

True, its just a few months before he'll be four. But still I look at my boy, and at the blocks in his basket, and I remember the truth about my little son.

Springtime Season

My Lord God, I have no idea where I am going. I do not see the road ahead of me. I cannot know for certain where it will end. Nor do I really know myself, and the fact that I think I am following Your will does not mean that I am actually doing so. But I believe that the desire to please You does in fact please You. And I hope I have that desire in all that I am doing. I hope that I will never do anything apart from that desire. And I know that, if I do this, You will lead me by the right road, though I may know nothing about it. Therefore I will trust You always though I may seem to be lost and in the shadow of death. I will not fear, for You are ever with me, and You will never leave me to face my perils alone. -Thomas Merton, Thoughts in Solitude

The last time my blog was so silent and sporadic, I announced several weeks later that I was pregnant with Little Bee. There's no new baby this time around but this springtime season has been a remarkable time of creation within me. Two months ago I looked around at the emerging life in nature and wondered what new life was being awakened within me. And what a two months it has been.

But how to put words to it? I've been stumped, and therefore silent. Some things cannot be described directly, only circumnavigated, told in metaphor or story. So here is what I have written to convey my experience:

I have been on a long journey underground. My travels have been through caves and tunnels, with beautiful sights, parts of nature I have never seen and hadn’t been able to imagine. I had no sense of heading towards an ultimate destination but was wholeheartedly enjoying the journey itself. Each new cavern contained such lovely, breathtaking views and wonders. I had no intention of ever ending the tour.

But now suddenly I take a step and find myself burst into the light. And not only have I emerged without warning into daylight but I am standing in the most beautiful, the most glorious place of them all. Suddenly my entire trip is cast in a different light – what I enjoyed as an end in itself I now realize, with surprise and joy, to have been primarily a process, a building up, and without realizing there was a destination I have arrived.

Looking around in this glorious, awe inspiring place I know that I could never have been persuaded to come here, nor would I have ever found the way directly. Instead the journey I have been on has led me here. The gratitude that I feel is overwhelming, as is my surprise. And with these comes the certainty that I have been led, that I have not been wandering aimlessly and alone at all. And the certainty of this realization leaves me in awe and silence.

So there is my metaphor, an explanation for my silence, an invitation to join me in this Springtime Season, and a song of praise. To you it feels like I have said nothing, but to me it feels like I have said everything.

The Lord is near.

A foretaste of cute pictures to come...

Redemption

I have stood at the center of the world
The primordial Tree, the innocent Beginning
I have been rejected there, exiled
So I wander
Homeless, yet seeking Home.
Marked, yet seeking Redemption

I have traveled so far in my wanderings
That I have changed, and the distance became a chasm
And yet I have stayed so closely tied
Lingering near with hope for Healing
Longing for Redemption

I stand in the place of Anger and Accusation
Watching the last box of bitterness carried out the door
Alone now with the vast emptiness in its place
There's nothing left to do but this endless
Wandering and Lingering

I have forgiven
But you have forgotten
Even a child casts her own shadow
The past has built itself into my body and soul
And there it is:
The bruised and fallen apple is its own seed
Redemption