A Second Chance to See Wonder

A heightened appreciation for reflections rose out of viewing the world through a camera’s lens. 

Consider the science of light and the multiple lenses, mechanical and biological that are at work as one’s brain receives and then interprets a reflected image. Imagine a flow chart of that: from the reflection’s source to the camera, through the eye, along the dendrites, picking up metaphors of meaning from amygdala’s treasure trove of emotion. 

Once the concept captured my attention, the presence of reflections became more abundant. The common images thrown back from blocks of storefront windows, shimmering puddles of rain, or the glassy, mirrored surface of water, certainly. But then the more subtle sources caught my eye. Reflected images etched on the surface of brewed green tea or in a flower’s mounded raindrop. Images bouncing back from the silver tray, the brass pendulum, and the glass door of the anniversary clock. The blue stained-glass cross reflected on a granite surface and the river rock repeated against dark pottery. 

From images of clouds viewed close-in and tiny on that orb of a raindrop, to images of lush shoreline seen from across the pond reflected back in the long length of wall to ceiling windows; our world is shimmered back for us, to appreciate, maybe without even turning around, to take second look. 

"See things from His perspective." Col. 3:1 MSG

To do so might change your perspective. It might prompt you to ponder how closely you’re looking at all that is before you. It might reveal bounty and wonders that have otherwise escaped your attention.

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Summer Remembrance

Early morning temperatures dipped by almost ten degrees this weekend, 

as August bids its 2014 adieu. 

The cooler morning offered a delightfully fresh hint of the next season, though we all know we still have many more weeks of extended summer that is par for our region. None the less, there was this brief interlude, this breath of coolness, this nod to softer days of less light and a planet tipping away from the sun’s blaze. Summer’s green begins to take on that more rustic shade, edged with crisped, drying hues. Blooms are worn, somewhat ravaged by the boldness of summer. The new blossoms are unfolding smaller, dropping petals sooner, there satin beauty not lasting as long as their predecessors. 

We turn to one another and say, Where did it go? 

Every season we say that. 

Remember when we were celebrating those glorious buds opening at the ends of stems and marveling at the late-into-the-evening sunsets painted orange across the blue sky. Remember children in the pool for hours perfecting their under water skills, extending their bravery in the deep end, diving endlessly to retrieve rings thrown to the bottom. Tomatoes and watermelon have been sweeter these recent months and sweet corn is still fresh in the produce department. Remember the lazier mornings of summer with coffee on the back porch, serenaded by birds, entertained by squirrels, and occasionally visited by that resident rabbit who lives in the Indian Hawthorn hedge. We watched lizards scamper across the top of the fence and fledgling Blue Jays teeter on the edge of their nest outside the bay window. We have watched Herons catch fish as turtles basked on the pond’s banks and the Mallards floated endlessly. 

And though the events of the world were far less bucolic through this summer, it remains important to remember that which was abundant, that which was brimming with blessing and goodness. In every season harken back to treasures that came your way, whispered from the heavens by God’s grace to season your life with His love and provision.

“I will remember the deeds of the Lord...” Psalm 77:11

                                                                               * * *

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Slower Steps {Learning to Take the Long Way Around}

Taking shorter steps, slower steps, allows the early morning breeze to be savored, its banking, soft approach is noticed, its reoccurring wisps of cooler threads do not escape attention and are a welcome surprise this deep into the August summer. Freedom to take the long-way-around offers the most shaded canopy branching wide, ladened with the season’s full foliage. 

Passing the homes along each block ...

I’m aware that they’re likely empty on a weekday morning, just as my own was during the years of scheduled and contracted productivity. Occupants are at their office, at their desks, on their computers, attending to agendas, checking off lists, collaborating, reaching for goals, gaining information, experience, livlihoods...globally, homes are empty and work is moving history along.

Still walking, slowly... 

I recall the physical pace of those productive years. From the moment of leaving bed in the predawn of each day, the work day steps were accumulated with only occasional interruption, until back at home, end of day dishes were done, bath and stories were done, and all needs for the next morning’s departure were collected at the door. Steps were rarely short and certainly not slow. On arrival to campus, those steps were purposefully taken in a circuitous route, calculated to complete efficiently as many tasks as possible along the way, often in the company of twenty or so young students and the coral-ing of their many steps.

Crossing the street to follow the shade and the bend of the tree lined curb…                                                                    I ponder the process that took place to step out of that pace of daily living, to mentally step back from the persistent multitasking drive that accomplishes a never ending magnitude of responsibilities in the finite hours of a day. It was a process of gradual recalibrating of the priorities of time that allowed the external race walker to convert to walker seeking internal peace. Intentionally, it has become acceptable to take shorter steps and move at a slower pace. Not because I’m incapable of that meteoric pace, but because the value of attention to the bounty of this world, the bounty of  this fleeting life, can only be captured when its not being raced past in a blur. 
                                                       * * *

Transitions take so many forms and all are challenging. What motivates you to engage in the process, to 'slow your steps' or 'take the long way around'?

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Beaches

I linger over a photo of our precious little grandsons; 
standing side by side on the pristine beach, gingerly venturing out into the foaming surf, thrilled by the cold blue waves and the tickle of Gulf shore sand washing against their feet. 

In the way that thoughts wander, 
in my mind’s eye 
I travel across that same blue sea stretching vast across the planet 
to the Mediterranean shores where it is not safe for other little children to play. 
Places where wars rage.

Then I imagine being able to visually draw back from these beaches just as the satellites do; taking in more and more land mass until its the large curving surface of our living planet that is seen spinning endlessly beneath its cameras.

On that ever rotating mass of miraculous alchemy of water and earth 
there are billions of life incidents occurring. 
Billions of human actions taking place. Billions of actions enacted with mercy and compassion. 
And then there are the others. 

In seeking God’s peace
the response seemed to be, 
"Have no doubt."
All of it is enacted under the gaze of our Holy Creator God. 
And all of it will be redeemed by His incomprehensible power, 
in His good time.

"From heaven the Lord looks down

and sees all mankind;

from His dwelling place he watches

all who live on Earth –

he who forms the hearts of all,

who considers everything they do."

Psalm 33:13-15

                                                         ~

Linking with Emily, click here at Chatting At the Sky as we bloggers gather to muse over what we learned this summer and with Still Saturday where the gifts of Sabbath thoughts are shared.

Approach from a Different Angle

While squeezing some semblance of life out of hard, uncompromising circumstances solace arrived in the strength of a single wild bloom. 

During an early morning walk it appeared unexpected and incongruent, like a sun-yellow flag planted in a moonscape of rock. Living green and spiraled gold surrounded by the sharp edges of dry, nonsustaining stone. 

A water seeking, nutrient dependent creature can perish in such an environment. 

Living seems just so at times. All that is visible appears to offer not a mite of support to ease basic survival through treacherous times.

Approaching the bloom on the return circuit of the walk, passing by from a different angle, changed the perspective, changed the understanding. 

Consider instead, the protective qualities of impervious rock. No lawn mowing blades arrived here to slice through a wild bloom. Flooding rivulets of rain washing down the rocky bank were channeled around the shallowly rooted, errant seed until its roots grew a deeper grip. The sharp and uneven rock surfaces prevented the smooth terrain seeking footsteps of humans. 

The seemingly rigid and hard may be providential protection and an opportunity to thrive.

Revisit the harsh and uncompromising circumstances. It may be that the presence of sacred grace, a veiled blessing, is obscured by a narrow perspective.

                                             ~

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My Strength

My flesh and my heart may fail,

but God is the strength of my heart 

and my portion forever.

Psalm 73:26

~

The heart shutters at the darker events of its time; shutters and howls in grief for fellow humanity suffering from the varied forms and wretched consequences of trauma. 

A young loved one debilitated by chronic pain or global humanity shattered by ancient battles: in faith  we grasp for the sacred response of fervent prayer.

 Knees bent to the floor, head bowed, hands clasped, whispers wringing out pleas for mercy that can only come from the almighty power of Holy God. 

Prayer re-enacted across the course of our breath filled hours 

is witness to the faith and hope in our souls.

~

Posting photo praise and encouraging words with fellow writers at The Weekend Brew, Still Saturday, Unforced Rhythms, Coffee for Your Heart, and His Story. Click a button below to visit that community’s posts.

Enter Silence

When life is heavy and hard to take, 

go off by yourself. 

Enter into silence. 

Bow in prayer. 

Wait for hope to appear. 

Lamentation 3:28 MSG

Richard Foster writes on the Discipline of Solitude 

and the gifts that this practice offers to the searching heart: 

“There is the freedom to be alone, 

not in order to be away from other people 

but in order to hear the divine Whisper better.” *

Further in the discussion of solitude Foster adds:

“The dark night (of the soul) is one of the ways God brings us to hush, 

a stillness so that He may work an inner transformation upon the soul.” *

Settle into silence,

still enough,

to capture a universe of watery orbs spilled across a single blossom. 

Such moments welcome the Holy whispers of wisdom.

*Celebration of Discipline by Richard Foster.

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