Morning Surprise

While having morning coffee on a glorious Saturday with the backdrop of a favorite soundtrack [click off ad and let it play if you can] for prayers ascending, I lifted my eyes to behold a spectacular sight: seven brilliant indigo buntings feasted on the Bermuda grass that had gone to seed outside my window!

Luminous electric blue bathed the birds in the morning sun! I have only seen two--ever!--and find these little birds as fetching as their name. Let it roll off the lips--mellifluous as warm honey on a spring day. Such a treat to take in with thanksgiving for the magnificence of nature and the gift of an unexpected blessing in this day off from work.

I had to turn aside to see this great sight.  There are times when we deliberately turn from what preoccupies our mind as we stop in our tracks to notice something extraordinary. I wonder how often we miss the majesty all around us because we are too busy to take it in?

 A quick click of the fingertip told me via National Geographic: I was looking at adult males in breeding plumage accompanied by several first-spring males along with little brown females. Who knew such beauty was right in my own backyard? My mother always says, "What we're looking for is usually right under our nose..."

Steaming coffee, "Gabriel's Oboe" performed on most any instrument, and the sight of first seven, then nine male indigo buntings and several females: I give thanks for life's simple blessings.

 
I have been contemplating and scribbling thoughts on this passage I share: 

"But these are only hints of his power, only the whispers that we have heard. Who can know how truly great God is?"  Job 26:14

"Behold, these are but the outskirts of his ways, and how small a whisper do we hear of him! But the thunder of his power who can understand?"  Job 26:14 ESV

All nature sings and 'round me rings the music of the sphere...

Faith is a living, daring confidence in God’s grace, so sure and certain that a [person] could stake his life on it a thousand times. (Martin Luther)


This does not mean that we know with certainty what is going to happen, nor do we have any assurance that what we want to happen will actually happen. These two misconceptions frequently trip us up when we begin to talk about faith and what we call answered prayer.

In fact, I think it is significant that we maintain the honesty that we do not know what will happen, and we do not have all the answers. The point to me is simply this: we have daring confidence in God's grace. Period. We entrust our life and times to the One who alone can guide and sustain us, especially when what we want to happen does not happen.

Tears of joy and sorrow mingle together inseparably, irretrievably a part of our story as we walk in faith. Rather than feel bereft and alone, we may find that we are never left alone and disconsolate. At the point of our deepest need, God's love is deeper still (Corrie Ten Boom).

As the second photo above suggests, the sun appears to be a small pink dot on the horizon. Nothing could be farther from the truth. The screen of our point of view is just too small to take in the size of the sun. The sun must set, actually, dipping below our line of sight before the vivid colors splash against the clouds creating the spectacular visions that result.

Today at 4:08 CST I drove into a magnificent full blown rainbow, completely visible end-to-end, spanning miles in each direction and leaving me awed. I could not photograph it, but I yearned to capture and share it. When I got to my destination I stared at it and shared with a friend via text the sheer joy of taking in this sight. She later replied with the snapshot of a breathtaking sight that cannot be contained in a screen of a complete rainbow taken aboard her flight at about the same time, and she wrote:
"My full circle rainbow only could be seen when we were over full cloud cover, not when you could see land. Amazing!"

And on this Earth, we only see one-half a rainbow, do we not? The other side is beyond our ability to see. It appears to disappear, much like the sun. To see a bigger picture requires a different point of view. You know where I'm going with this.

Life can be like that. When we are encircled by clouds and confusing circumstances, our vision is obscured. We are unable to see what is because of what merely appears to be. The temptation is to agree that the appearance is actually what matters. For the believer, we trust the grace-gifts of God to supply our needs--our very vision when our sight is limited--so that we learn to walk by faith and trust, and not by sight.

We know through science that refraction or bending light to create a rainbow requires a certain percentage of moisture content and a certain degree angle. Then when the light passes through the water-filled atmosphere, particularly in the evening, the glorious parallel bands of ROYGBIV color spread across the sky. All those things were present in abundance today for this startlingly beautiful phenomenon. It is not magic, but the precise function of the creator of all nature. All creation attests to the magnificence of God, and He's still got the whole world in His hands.

Psalm 19: 1-3: The heavens declare the glory of God; and the firmament shows his handiwork. Day unto day utters speech, and night unto night shows knowledge. There is no speech nor language, where the heavens' voice is not heard.

Clutching Mystery in Our Hands, 2

God is always trying to give good things to us, but our hands are too full to receive them.
~St. Augustine

The foxgloves pictured above remind me of the unseen mystery woven into creation that we cannot see while we are holding fast to what we want and living on accelerate at high speed. We see only what appears to be.

And we often see what we want to see.

It takes time to see with the heart.

Known as the fairy bell flower, the tall spires of purple enticed me to plant a few until the heat and drought in our climate defeated my best plans for gardening this blossom. Nature's indigenous beauty surrounds us, yet I try to fit square pegs into round holes, as I did when trying to force recalcitrant foxgloves to make a home in the deep south. I didn't have the touch.

We grow and cut and gather something as simple as flowers in a yard, never realizing that in our arms lies a possibility for healing. I had young children at the time and was aware to be careful with this plant. The foxglove is said to be poisonous--poisonous yet miraculous in the same stem. Digitalis is a derivative of this plant and has been a staple in medicine. Yet, at a glance it is only a lovely bloom.

We cannot know what we hold in our hands because we only see from our limited perspective.

Life itself is a tremendous mystery.

Let us open our palms to receive it. There is always more than meets the eye.




Photo by Rob Kiser

Promises, Promises

Maybe Mom is right: The more things change, the more they remain the same.


At first glance, this contraption looked pretty ghastly. Imagine, I thought, women strapping on that device at night before bed. What in the world would drive someone to sleep in that? Then I read the fine print:

"removes complexional imperfections"..."prevents and removes wrinkles"... completely "natural beautifier"...

Sound familiar? Its core claim is the same as one today: "safe, effective and saves money too." The image is dated, but the message still sells. All the way to the bank.

Well over 280 billion dollars (billion!) pour into promises of clear, beautiful skin.* It might be as close as the sidebar ad on our computer screen or the facing page in any magazine for women.

The lyrics of an old Dionne Warwick song flood my mind: "Promises, promises I'm all through with promises, promises now...."

Technology has advanced beyond strapping on a sleeping mask; Today we can create a mask-like appearance without the mask! Medical marvels now can craft what some crave: the perfect face without a trace of wrinkles.

They say it's true. Apply or inject enough product in the right places, and we can be rid of those pesky lines and wrinkles for good...or for a few weeks anyway. Call me crazy, but this claim sounds eerily similar to the directions for makeup of the deceased in funeral homes. They, too, have their products with cozy-sounding names (how does the Final Touch grab you?), offering the promise of perfection. May we rest in peace.

Can we make peace with the notion that we live...and we age? To live is to age. I come face to face, as it were, with this reality in the mirror daily. The way of wisdom teaches me: Each of us must choose the vigor with which we confront aging, or the grace with which we receive the gift of living another year. The choice is ours.

Some of the most beautiful women I know are over 70. Or I could say 90, though that is a short list. Their facial lines and wrinkles bear witness to a generous life and lively spirit. They are among the models I long to emulate, not the excessively-airbrushed cover girls.

I caught a brief interview with a famous 1970's/80's cover girl this week, and grimaced to see her distorted new look. She is in the club of the 'world's most beautiful women' and also happened to have thin lips which, apparently, was okay at the time, but not today?

"Just because you can doesn't mean you should," comes to mind.

I pray that my notions of beauty will be informed by a source other than fashion magazines and companies that stand to profit from our collective insecurities about who we are. Our identity is more than skin deep.

Oh, sure...I'll still apply my makeup -- I'm not going cold turkey--as we all have our favorite masks we don, even if they do not strap on. But I yearn to age gracefully and to find contentment in whatever state--or at whatever age--I am. Maybe one day I'll be able to speak the words as a reality:

For I have learned in whatever stage I am therewith to be content. Philippians 4:11

*statistic from 2009 Worldwide Cosmetic Market Industry Report

Seeing from the Backside

Things are not always what they seem.

Dr. Ellsworth Kalas wrote a series of books taking a fresh look at ancient stories. He suggested we approach the familiar in an unfamiliar fashion, and referred to this as viewing from the backside. I like what that method does for us. Catches us off-guard. Makes us think or re-think possibilities.

The chapel pictured above is beautiful in its setting. Highly regarded designer uses natural materials to construct a family chapel. That is a story in itself. I loved the intimacy of it before I stepped foot through the doors. But it was upon seeing it from the back side that I discovered its real beauty.

The chapel's domed ceiling rose upward, and the windows were entirely open-air. Walls did not define the space, but provided frames for nature as far as the eye could see! The altar would not be contained within four walls. It was altogether lovely and refreshing as a design for worship, weddings and funerals. The expansive view allowed all of nature to join 'in manifold witness', as the old hymn says.

A gleaming cross stands watch as a focal point on the backless chapel of wood, stone, brick, iron and whitewashed stucco. When viewed from the back side, this chapel is turned inside out. Fresh air flows through the wooden benches and recirculates unhindered.










Do we ever feel more comfortable with "four walls and a ceiling" -- a predictable, reliable framework for living that does not call us to stretch the imagination and perhaps grow in a direction God may be leading us? Sometimes it is scary to venture beyond the familiar routine and commit to a new way of serving or living out the faith.

Maybe it is fear of what lies beyond the 'walls' that keeps us tethered to a pew-under-roof. Some would rather have the safety of a predictable, sheltered seat rather that risk the gusty wind of the hills and fields that beckon beyond.

I just talked with a friend whose mission field is her own hometown, but she ventured far from the walls of her neighborhood or church and out into a culturally distant land. She is living boldly and with great love. She is impassioned and courageous.

Her example makes me wonder, am I continuing to view things from the back side?

O, Lord, I pray that I do not try to confine You to a box of my own making. Help me to grasp how wide and how long and how high and how deep is the love of Christ, because I cannot fathom such love on my own. May this great love ignite a spark of showing bold love to others. Amen

Ephesians 3:18

Seeing the Sacred in the Everyday

John "No Man is an Island" Donne

Seeing the sacred in the everyday calls for a new way of seeing for some of us.

A cursory glance will not suffice. Beating a path through one's to-do list in record time leaves little room for noticing our surroundings. When we live rushed, frantic lives, we miss too much.

In 1622, John Donne reflected on the miraculous in the everyday. Donne said that if the mundane occurrences all around us were rare, we'd be astonished.

If it were unique, we'd behold it with wonder! Think about that possibility.

The sky darkens with rolling clouds, thunder cracks the air, rain arrives, driving downward from the sky, and passes. A rainbow appears in the East. We pause a moment to catch a glimpse of it, then go about our business. We've seen rainbows before. If this sequence were done but once -- or even every 100 years -- we would stare in awe and wonder. We would try desperately to capture it and record it for others for they would otherwise find it incredulous.

But, it's just another spring rain. And so we move on without noticing.

How many times do we do this? The sun rises and sets each day. Glorious colors fill the sky, and we fail to lift our eyes. It's just another day.

Some will protest that our lives would grind to a halt if we beheld the wonder in the natural world, the miraculous in the everyday. I think not. Rather, I believe our lives would be greatly enhanced by a new awareness of all that we fail to notice when we move through life on autopilot. Our senses would be heightened and our hearts attuned to subtleties only perceived by those who choose to look carefully.

It takes no more time to live with an eye for wonder, but it does take desire. And living into our heart's desire infuses our time with intensity and meaning. I thought about the simple acts of nature that rolled into today's welcome summer rain, and gave thanks.

John Donne, 1572-1631, Jacobean metaphysical writer of songs, poems, sermons and translations.

Tea Cups on the Shelf

Some people see the teacup; others focus on the cracks.
Our flaws and imperfections do not render us unfit or unlovely.
But that truth is hard to swallow for many.

I am a china junkie, I confess.

Do you have cups or plates you rarely use? What happens to those pieces on the shelf or packed away in boxes? While the risk of damage and chipping from use is minimized, they age in time just the same -- only without any enjoyment of them in family mealtimes. So, of what value are they, really?

The passing of time and changing temperatures affect even sturdy, furnace-tested china and porcelain. Cracks appear on the most prized pieces. Their beauty emerges notwithstanding these traces of use and age. Crazing appears as fine, spider-web lines on the surface of porcelain, leaving it with a beautifully crackled finish. Some so-called imperfections can actually increase the value of a piece.

We, too, assume a well-worn patina as we move through life.

There glows a beauty all its own in a peaceful, gentle countenance, a loving voice and a kind gesture, no matter what age we attain. So maybe we trade youthful sparkle for a mature luster. And on the days where we neither feel nor see much gleam on the surface, hang in there. Don't focus on the cracks.

Though imperfect, we still remain more than fit for our purpose in this life.

I do not want to be wrapped tightly...put on a high shelf...packed away safely from light and heat. I would rather be brought into service...put on the front lines...and used up for this thing called life.

I'll take the cracks and crazing, the inevitable chips and dings, and risk the painful breakage that occurs when we live with abandon. Crazing and wrinkles most surely accompany life and experience. May we learn how to age gracefully, and take a lesson from a tea cup overflowing with blessings.

My cup overflows. Surely goodness and mercy shall follow me all the days of my life... Psalm 23:5

Relatively Speaking

"The ideals which have always shone before me and filled me with the joy of living are goodness, beauty and truth."

Any idea as to the author of these words? Perhaps a poet - maybe Emily Dickinson? Or a theologian.....or philosopher? Someone who speaks the language of a lover of beauty and goodness would likely be one with a tender heart and magnified soul.

It came as a surprise to me to see Albert Einstein's name beneath this statement. He is one who seems to have lived by the hard and fast laws of science and quantifiable statements....who functioned in a world where what mattered was defined by measurement and accuracy not by virtues and ideals.

Quite a guy, that Einstein. His stupendous brain conceived concepts of relativity - both general and special - and he contemplated Joules, energy and antimatter in ways I do not even begin to express. The language of the scientist seems incongruous with the words above, and yet they spring from the same source.

His is a striking example of the human capacity for versatility in spanning disciplines. Scientist, mathematician, writer, violinist...he did it all.

The life of Albert Einstein also reveals a sort of contrapuntal tension - a dissonance and irregularity between what he said and what he did. His closest relationships were marked by great upheaval and estrangement. This seeker of goodness, beauty and truth had a hard time making his own commitments stick and finding joy in his own family.

So we are just as fully human as he, without the mc squared.

There is a great contradiction within us: humans possess a tremendous affinity for both virtue and depravity. We have the capacity to express love and tenderness, to appreciate beauty and to search for that which offers us the joy of living. Einstein himself said that happiness and comfort alone were not fit to be goals for living, except "for a herd of cattle," as he referred to those unthinking masses who live for happiness as the end game.

I do not hold him up as a standard for life. Role models surround us for the choosing, but some of the most celebrated and popular offer only fragmentary particles of truth and beauty suspended in a residue of our cultural waste byproducts.

I seek a source who far exceeds the limitations of men and women to illumine our own path and to cast light on the 'joy of living' as Einstein puts it. I prefer to seek the fount of wisdom, the creator and maker of all that is, and the lover of our souls. God sees us as we really are and acts to redeem us and to reconcile our disjointed, dysfunctional lives. The One who owns the cattle on a thousand hills is not intimidated by the writings or diatribes of even the most illustrious of our shared humanity's herd of cattle. Thanks be to God.

Beauty in Unusual Places

Earth's crammed with heaven, And every common bush afire with God: But only he who sees takes off his shoes.

- Elizabeth Barrett Browning (1806 - 1861)

Elizabeth Barrett Browning was asked by her husband how she felt as she was dying.

"Beautiful," she replied, her last word. She died in his arms in Florence where he tended her alone.

Inventor Thomas Alva Edison said just before his death in 1931, "It's very beautiful over there."

Beautiful. Can it be?

There is a great mystery in dying that has gotten my attention in recent years. A favorite book, Final Gifts by Maggie Callanan and Patricia Kelly, is an important guide and resource for those suddenly thrust upon the final-illness scene; yet it is even better if we have no such prospect looming but simply want to live with greater understanding of a topic we generally like to keep far away from us.

Written by two hospice nurses who speak from experience of thousands of deaths, Final Gifts acknowledges that while each person's death is distinctly one's own, there are patterns and stages common to most that we likely will experience.

Preparation for dying draws me - not in a macabre or gruesome way - but with a spiritual intensity that longs to be prepared physically and emotionally as well. I have shared this pursuit with others who are facing near-death situations themselves. Yes, tennis might have been a more pleasant hobby, but for this season (and for the past number of years) death bids me to take a closer look.

Each of us will experience death and dying of those dear to us, perhaps many times over our lifetime. While I would choose to wedge the door shut if that would keep the unwelcome intruder at bay, I want to learn from those who have experienced this aspect of our shared humanity. I want to be as prepared as possible for a possibly incomprehensible loss.

I say I do not fear death. (I have yet to be fully tested on this hypothesis, you understand.) I do, however, fear grief, and I dread living without the presence and companionship of those we love. I have named my fears, and grief is at the top of the list.

Death is a part of life, an essential stage of moving from this life to the Life we cannot glimpse until we pass its threshold. We are not kidding ourselves to avoid it, or to act as though it might not happen to us. But it need not have the last word.

I believe there is an inaudible 'beautiful' that awaits us as well.

A young Elizabeth Barrett Browning wrote,

"There are so many mercies close around me that God's being seems proved to me, demonstrated to me, by His manifested love."

That loving presence would be tested a few days later when she learned of the death of her only brother, Edward, in a sailing accident with friends. She had parted with him with 'pettish words' on the day he left, and her grief was complicated by her intense remorse over that unreconciled quarrel. For years she could not hear of the sea or of her brother because of the lingering anguish she felt.

Only later in life did she write,

"Once I wished not to live, but the faculty of life seems to have sprung up in me again from under the crushing foot of heavy grief. Be it all as God wills."

She is not alone in expressing such a sentiment. Grief is oppressive. It settles in for a season - maybe a long season of drought and barrenness of spirit. The fog hangs even heavier when embedded within it is guilt for harsh words exchanged, or forgiveness withheld, or unexpressed love and appreciation. We long for the opportunity to settle emotional accounts.

The faith I embrace gives perspective that all do not share, I realize. Chief within it is the call to love and to forgive. Forgiveness is not easy, and it is not optional. But it does go a long way in resolving conflict and easing the burden we bear after last words are spoken.

Everyone has struggles and challenges, even those who appear to live a lovely life. Elizabeth's subsequent love for and marriage to Robert Browning is a 19th century love story that would inspire millions today, but their life together was not easy. Her father had forbidden his daughters to marry - a prospect that terrified and saddened them - and, though Browning thought he could speak openly with her father about the stance and persuade him otherwise, Elizabeth knew her father's edict to be firm, and they eloped. She pleaded for reconciliation with her father for the rest of his life, but he refused to speak with her and later returned all her letters to him, unopened - a final insult, it seems to me.

She knew something about suffering. Her mother and brother had died early in life; her poor health kept her confined to a room. She could not walk. Robert carried her up stairs or across the brooks near their home. She experienced real life: satisfying life and love mixed with unreconciled issues, family conflicts, and lifelong grief. And yet she could express devotion to God and rest in God's provision even though her life was filled with hardships to endure.

And she called it beautiful.

I want to know what is true....what is bedrock...what is helpful on this part of the journey....and I pray that God will guide through shared experiences and from impressions of the Spirit on this quest to live life to the fullest and to face the end of this life with courage and grace in the presence of the Lord.

God has said, "Never will I leave you; never will I forsake you." Hebrews 13:5

"The Lord is close to the brokenhearted and saves those who are crushed in spirit." Psalm 34:15

Be strengthened in the Lord if you are facing an uncertain road ahead. Know that you are not alone. May we see 'common bushes afire' with God's loving Presence and have spiritual eyes to see something beautiful beyond our sight.

Shared bounty

Love grows when shared.

It's almost time to cut back roses and remove the dried, stalky remnants of white mop-headed hydrangeas that litter our yard in February. Today's sunshine beckons but I'll not answer the call just yet; I can find much to do indoors. But just seeing the beautiful colors above reminds me that spring is not far away.

Mary Jane Henley, a dear lady and beloved grandmother of Mary Jane Davis Meyer, shared these delicate roses and wire fern from her yard with me in the fall. She also brought the luscious guava - an unusual fruit I had only known in a Barbara Streisand song decades ago - that she uses to make guava jelly. Her graciousness in giving in many ways touches the lives of anyone in her path. It is her roses that I am smelling today, even if only in a photo.

We stop and smell the roses anytime we pay attention to beauty...or we pause and take delight in our blessings...or we choose to look at something with a fresh appreciation for its value. I think it is a wise way to live.

Let us not run slipshod through life, content with hitting the high points as though we are skimming some required reading just before class, expecting we'll have time to get it right later. This is the real thing! This day is its own, never to come again. We KNOW that, but we rarely live its truth.

Except for a precious woman named Sarah. She gets it. Sarah knows the value of a day....of 'each second of my life' as she speaks into her laptop recording her blog note, sarahchidgey.blogspot.com/2011/02/252011.html. Sarah's sense of urgency in appreciating the day that is hers stimulates my own desire to make the most of the time we have.

When Sarah leaves M.D. Anderson hospital tomorrow, she will go 'home' to a home that is not familiar to her. She will move into Bennett and Sam's first floor home because she can no longer climb the stairs to her own. She and her husband, Eric, will begin a new chapter in their sixth month of marriage in a borrowed home with loving friends, Dustin and Elizabeth, who are helping to care for them. She displays great courage and faithfulness in her young life. I stand amazed. This is the body of Christ in action.

So maybe that welcome sunshine outside is calling my name after all on this Sunday afternoon, even if just for a brief walk. It has been icy and dreary and cold for so long. Sarah would walk in it if she could and not think twice. But she can no longer walk.

What am I waiting for? I'm taking my own advice....

Do something to savor this day. And pray for Sarah.

The Touch of Beauty

The best and most beautiful things in the world cannot be seen or even touched. They must be felt with the heart. Helen Keller (1880-1968)

Perhaps this is another task of a lifetime - to learn how to see rightly and to feel with the heart. We can attest to the immense beauty that lies within a glorious explosion of color in nature, or in the intricacy of a blossom. Beauty abounds and punctuates our day if we but notice it, but that is through visual perception. What is the touch of beauty?

Surely each of our senses can perceive beauty; it is not the exclusive purview of sight. If we did not have sight, would we not experience heightened awareness through other senses? How does beauty feel? Let that thought resonate during the day and see what comes to mind. Share your thoughts if you wish and add to your own list.

Lord, enlarge my heart and mind to hold within as much of your beautiful world as I can experience today. Teach me how to feel with my heart. Let me stop and notice gracenotes of beauty in unexpected places. Amen.

(Photo by Prentice Stabler, Chattanooga, TN)