Good as Gold

Taste and see that the Lord is Good. (Psalm 34:8)

Follow the Sun!

Watching, Breathing, Praying?

Who is watching whom?

This is a spy hop – surging up to allow a view of who is around and what is happening on the surface. It is curiosity and self protection, and awareness all wrapped up into one.

This barnacle encrusted Grey Whale is popping up to check us out. To look into a world were she cannot enter but for a brief moment. It is a curious thing that without this surface world, she would also not be able to breathe. She can plumb great depths on one solitary breath and scour the bottom for a meal, filtering through the sands. But soon she must again return to the surface were she cannot live for long at all, but from which she is inextricable linked.

I think of my prayer life like this. If I go too long without it, I weaken and suffer. I must return again to a work that is curious and interesting. Yet it is a world in which I cannot live. I too must dive back down into the realm of my daily existence. But Yes, I must not get too far from that place were I will, and must return to see what is going on and to Breathe, to look around and know my world better.

In the breathing there is life and broadened awareness, and so it is with prayer.

Moments of Agony and Fulfillment

The Artful Crash

The technique of the artful crash: To float along, eyeing the blue depth just below the surface until the goal is within sight. And then, to roll over, head braced - wings folded back, body streamlined and smash into the blue resistance. Perchance the aim was true and the impact undeviating and a meal is gained, if only a couple of morsels for the work.

There has got to be a better way to get a meal!

There are times in my journey of faith when I feel like this:  A few morsels gained amid the spectacular crash.  I wonder at the courage it takes to keep crashing about for the sustenance of faith.  Yet, on occasion, a really satisfying meal keeps me coming back for more. 

Hope Tends Toward Hope

Hope Tends Toward Hope

I love the color Yellow. I have had to come a long way to get here. When I was a kid, among the worst insults you could receive from someone was, “You are so Yellow,” meaning cowardly, chicken, afraid, holding back, withdrawing, unengaged – or just plain, not like the rest of us. In those days Yellow was mild, weak and passé. I felt ambivalent about it.

Now days, Yellow holds me together, keeps me sane and reminds me who I am. Yellow is warm and bright, happy and hopeful. It is rich and not ostentatious. Yellow is not Gold or greedy. It has a self contented peacefulness about it. Yellow is centered. This Orchid that is thriving in our household is yellow, and perhaps is grows strong in the love and hopefulness in our lives, Shannon and mine.

This winter, as I watched our orchid reach for its new twelve blooms (twice as many as it had when I bought it), I watch it glow and shimmer in the last bits of light that pierce through the February cold. I realize that I too hunger for every ray of Yellow sunlight I can get this time of year. This orchid and I enjoy a harmony of longing together for the richness of the sun. Hopeful! That is what I feel in these moments. The Yellow sun, the vibrant orchid and this glow I feel inside are all participating together in feeding and enriching one another.

It's like the vibrations of strings on a harp. Pluck a “C,” and the “C” strings in each octave will also begin to pick up the vibration and “sound” as well. Not only that, but overtones will begin: Strings that fit into "C" major chord combinations will also pick up the vibration and also begin to slightly sound. Perhaps the orchid, the sun and I also fit into this pattern of life and activity. Perhaps nature reverberates through us in harmony with what is good and hopeful and sustaining.

Perhaps this is just nature’s way. Yet the joy I feel, seems to have a smile in it not really my own. Perhaps I share the smile of another from whom all this wonder comes. My hopefulness receives this question gladly and peacefully ponders such possibilities.

In the mean time, my wife, my heart, my home and friends all seem to take encouragement from this hopefulness I gleen and give. It is a gift to be able to share, and share freely of this nectar. This orchid and I, seem to have taken in some of its warmth and color. I love the color Yellow. I have come a long way to get here.

In the touch of water -- life, death and rebirth flow to us.

This is a tidal flat. The highest zone where tides influence and shape the life and color of the land. In the winter, at the highest tides and during storm surge these flats will flood and salt water invades this landscape. The grass dies back and stumps soak up salt and moisture which aid in their decomposition. Shades of brown dominate and decay abounds. As Spring comes and the weather calms and tides soften, the nutrients left from winter decay give rise to vibrant color. Now the grass begins its resurgence. Wild flowers push up and express themselves for a time and birds heading north come and go among the exuberance. Its a cycle, yet at any moment you can see the touch of water and even perceive its past and future effects.

I know the touch of water in my life too. At one time or another it floods in and devastates. At other times I thirst for the expanse of ocean and its over whelming enormity. And still, occasionally I know the sweet, resuscitating joy of a deep drink, a cool mist or a refreshing plunge.

These tidal images speak of the complexity of faith and life. They remind me to hope. They say, "live in the challenges of today and strain forward for the gifts of tomorrow." "Be in the moment taking in the character of all that has been and all this is to come." In these reminders I find the threads of a life of faith. In these reminders I find hints and clues to the fingerprints of God. I see them in the landscape and upon the character of my life and relationships. In the touch of water -- life, death and rebirth flow to us from the heart of God.