I
drove between water because smart and skilled men made a levee and
poured a road out on top. The sun showed through a sky stuffed with
gray clouds and hit the lake tinseling the water and making me cry.
The Lord touched my eyes with tinsel on water and gave me the word to
tell it today. He touches my heart with tinsel and water, and my life
is a wonder. I am distilled
in tinseled water, in the plucks of guitar strings and simpler
things. I’m distilled
in the wisps of wind and warmth of sun and those little
paddle-footed-waddlers
quacking along a grassy path. I’m preserved
in moonshine and fair things. I am
clarified
in
laughter, in the eyes of a caring friend, in voices and cat purrs, in walks on fallen leaves, and thoughts of higher things. I’m
distilled
under warm covers and preserved in gratefulness. I’m purified
in sun rays and sprinkling rain and baskets full of adjectives for
what I see. I’m refined
in vanilla peaches and love, in prayers at the table and on my soft couch. My shelf life has no care for I’m distilled in eternity.
“Come let us reason together”, says the Lord. ”Though your sins be as scarlet, they will be white as snow.” Isaiah 1:18
Snow covered the yard and wind was relentless for days.
Nevertheless, snow is exciting, and tucks one into a cozy frame of
mind, removing a myriad of options from a day off. In the quiet house
clocks tic toc the time, the faucet is dripping away to protect the
pipes from freezing, and cars ease by on a snow covered 3rd.
I sliced a box of plump little multicolored tomatoes and slid trays
full into the dehydrator, but not before saving some of the seeds. I
covered the seeds lightly in a little box of soil and put them near a
window. Seeds have come up with no care at all in past compost piles
and random spots in the yard and garden, so maybe these seeds will find
their way to germination too. They will help with the wait for spring
either way. 😊
I often dream of what I could accomplish if I had a string of days
like this. I imagine all the reading I would do, the notes I would
take, the food I would fix and the plans I would make and accomplish.
Then a day comes when downy snowflakes fall from the sky and into my lap
is a snow day.
And it has happened again, weather that says, “Just cozy up
inside. There’s nothing for you out here. The view out the window is
best.” Rain fell in the night and giant trucks slid over yonder, off the
interstate pavement into the trees and up banks of icy ground. Ice is
nearly non-negotiable and it’s not wise to try, but oh, how we try
anyway.
Black birds visited the yard in a throng, pecking the ground looking
like digital creations. Maybe they are searching for pieces of pecans
discarded by gluttonous squirrels. They all rose and filled the hickory
tree, filling in the gaps left by fallen leaves, but only for a moment
before moving like a black cloud across the lawn to the pecan tree, then
to the ground again before flying away to who knows where. I watched
them from my second story window snapping pictures.
“Come let us reason together.“
I slice the tomatoes and dry them for a day. How different they taste
when not carried in a splash of water, how chewy and sweet. In my
excitement I held one finished piece in the light of my window before
eating it. The winter storm had changed my dead yard to a glamorous, all
white stage where the tomato became a marvel before it. As if before a
spotlight now, I saw the seeds exposed in their deep and secret place
suspended in time, an intimate peek into a scarlet explosion in the
heart of the fruit, like little, fat exclamation points, like
rambunctious, young sperm in pursuit of the egg. I’m shy at the sight of
it. If they had a voice I’d hear shouts of joy and the whisper of…
“Come let us reason”.
It’s been days still simmered on this theme, these thoughts pulled
apart. I started an ancient practice in a jar on my kitchen counter,
fermenting milk. It is silky and white and tart from growing bacteria
that is good for me. Then I dried pounds and pounds of strawberries into
sweet, red chips. Yesterday, I put them all in a plastic bag and felt
so pleased with this work. The whites and the reds glaring again. A
simple, messy life, tucked in a measly river valley town has things yet
to say. Important lines to repeat out loud in my own simple way.
“Come let us reason“
There is nothing more or less going on in this life long mess of
discarded strawberry tops and the feelings and experiences. It is all a
boiled down in a line from Isaiah, older than the kefir grains
preserving the milk on the counter. It’s older than time. It is of the
foundation and that’s as solid as it gets.
“Come let us reason.”
It’s not “Just do what I say!” It isn’t, “Blindly follow me.” It
isn’t, “Let me take you, use you, control you.” It is higher and bigger
and breathtaking.
“Come let us reason.”
Engage the matter of your life and your outcomes with the outcomes of
truth. Reason, dissect, use your intellect. God has nothing to hide.
Lord, how shall I celebrate a new morning? Birds are already singing it up a storm out there, rooster is saluting the morn, frogs in the pond are piping and I, the tallest, weightiest of all sit in a silent stupor. Why is this? They are so fully invested with YOUR purpose, so without hesitation of their call. It is You in their throats, in their chests, in their movement and song. It is Your eternal purpose in them, without choice they go along happily it seems. It is beautiful, sure, purposeful, comforting to know that they will always do what they were intended to do; not robots, but creatures full of divine, unaltered purpose.
It's the creatures with choice that falter. It's us with our own navigation systems that go the wrong direction. It is us with doubts about our purpose that sit in a stupor unhinged. We, often as if sitting behind a curtain, live veiled from the movements of God-- adrift without a compass.
Jesus said he did only what He saw his Father doing. He showed what synchrony between the two can do. When he sparked debate at the temple or stood speaking to the crowds, when he struck out in a boat to meet a demoniac on the other side, he saw it first in the place that we also can see. He did what his Father was doing and put His hands and feet to this on earth. Isaiah 60:l
May I sit with you for but a few more hours
and bless you for being you?
May I smell your blooming flowers
and watch your mulberries ripen soon?
May I brag about the roses
that choose your welcome to open wide?
And may I bring you this offering,
this feeling? I will try.
Your days grow sweetly longer,
your showers come to find
the soil that needs more water,
the flowers and the vines.
I breath you in to savor.
I drink you in my thirst.
I bless you in your breezes,
I marvel at your worth!
The purest smell of privet,
the dandelion blooms,
daylily and magnolia
all draw me from my room.
I'll plant a little garden
when I find a piece of ground,
an orchard and a vineyard
'cause you'll be back real soon.
You are my shining favorite.
I don't wish for you to go.
Can't we just start all over?
-- May 1st, I love you so.
Your days passed by too quickly,
your benefits astound
and I am left to linger
till you circle back around.
