This morning, the neighbor girl stood at the end of her lane like a little soldier, looking toward the eastern sun, waiting for the bus. It is comforting to see children in the neighborhood wait for the bus, their lives of anticipation. 

Later this morning, I greeted the young man who came to pick up some donated furniture.  An exercise bike that got us through some long winters, both in Lewisburg, PA and Wooster, OH.  A spare mattress no longer needed because one of our children has moved out.  A small dresser that belonged to me in middle school; one that we never quite could find a place for in our multiple homes over the years.  

I noticed the other day that reading books with characters that remind you of people in your life is also somehow comforting.  It seems to give some sort of dignity to the experiences and people in our lives - to experience them through the written word.

I suppose that is also why God wanted to write us a book.  I read some Lamentations today; quandary about, "what is God up to anyway?"  Is he punishing us?  Is he loving us?  Why am I miserable and where do I fit into this narrative? 

I used to hold writing at a bit of an arm's length, thinking that too often I was creating ideals in my head through clever words, and resented the dissonance of "real life".  But written words can give honor.  The human brain is at times so unreliable to give a consistent picture of itself and the world.  Words can clarify and lead.

 

 

The Longest Night

While the photo above was taken earlier this year, the layers of light and dark within the picture have a special poignancy for me today.  Humanity dances within the rhythms of light and dark.  

The longest night, winter solstice, has interesting and arresting vantage points for the soul, not only now but over much of time in the past and in many cultures.  (see the New York Times article, The Longest Night).

I think it is natural for us to be uneasy with darkness, to feel thwarted by the things we are unable to do or complete without the light.  How can we function without our sense of sight? How will we avoid the pitfalls?  It lowers our sense of control and safety, strips us of the cloak of accomplishments and visible possessions that we hide in.

Each year older I become, I hope that I can learn to come a little closer to terms with the rhythms of light and dark.  To wrestle against it less, to let it instruct me more.  How would my life enlarge and grow if I followed the footpath of my failures to some discovery rather than avoid that trail at all cost?  What seeds can I shelter in my hand and heart, dormant in the dark, dreaming of spring?

The Age of Coronavirus

-A reflection on Ezra 3, when the Israelite captives were faced with the uncertainty of rebuilding their lives

              

                And when the third month had come, and the children of the United States realized that the coronavirus was in their midst, the people ceased their gathering together.  All the governors, after consulting with their learned men, sent out decrees to all their land, closing the schools, and the social places; even the churches of God became empty.  And fear had come upon many people because the routines were disrupted and the March Madness would no longer distract them form their own inner madness.  And furthermore, the stock market was shaken in a tumult, sometimes up and sometimes down, and the prospect of losing one’s retirement loomed in their minds.

                And yet, there were creative and stalwart people in the land, people who remembered the stories their grandparents had told them of other difficult times; tales of how hard work and creative problem-solving coupled with resolute faith in God and compassion for others had carried them through things like the Great Depression and the World Wars and other pandemics.  And some of them remembered even older stories, when times were even harder.  These creative and stalwart people, armed with confidence in the problem-solving skills God had given them, and confident in the power of what can happen when friends and neighbors get together to share and help each other, these people set their sights on new routines.  They developed new ideas for bringing structure and a sense of security and purpose for themselves and those around them. 

                They discovered that although the invisible virus was able to change so much in their lives and create so much unknown and fear – that some things could not be changed.  For one thing, spring was upon them!  Glorious spring with the birds singing in the morning!  And the woodpeckers looking for insects in the trees!  And the flowers thrusting up from the ground!  It was found that none of these things was the virus able to destroy.  And it was also found that the things that were taken away uncovered new things underneath that had always been there but were now more needed and easier to see and appreciate; things like the value of being with family and saying hello to a neighbor and how much we need each other to support our emotional selves and our ability to do the necessary work of life.  It clarified how thankful they were for their schools and their jobs and their churches, for the teachers and their work; and remined them that it was a special gift to be able to even have these things to go to, because now they knew what it was like not to have them. 

                But all of this was still hard, and there were times of weeping with loud voices, and times of shouting aloud for joy – for there were things taken away and new things given.  Many uncertainties could not be taken away, and even death need to be faced in some cases.  Yet in it all, God was present and speaking quietly to those who would listen; and many old stories were told, many songs were sung – and in time, new life emerged.

In the Faces of Our Children

In the Faces of Our Children                                       

This morning I remember to hold Nigel

-a few minutes for our bodies to remember that we are on the same team

Before we begin working out what he will wear

What he will eat for breakfast.

As I hold his never quite still self, gratefulness seeps in.

This morning he remembers to go to the bathroom before he eats

-instead of wiggling in his chair painfully for 10 minutes.

He listens to his body!

We have 10 minutes before the bus comes.

His face lights up when I bring out the sight word cards.

His delight in learning!

In putting the little pieces of the world together in a great connected jigsaw puzzle!

As he sounds out “who” and “eat”, “woo” and “et”, his face twitching in concentration,

I sense the strength of this child. 

He will do great things with his mind.

Maggie asks me again if she can wear her snowboots to school

Even though it is 45 degrees outside.

She is relentless to express her ideas

Without consideration of practical details.

She wants to do many things at the same time

Wants to read and eat breakfast together

While I comb her hair.

She hums and wiggles constantly at mealtime

Makes faces in the stainless steel rice pot

All supper long.

Yesterday morning she was creating stories.

Before I knew it, the boys were following her around the yard

Carrying Legos, piling up grass for her plastic horse

Following her relentless creative spirit.

She will be active, she will inspire others

She will bring movement and magic to the blank, dark spaces

A creator.

Pictures this time of Year