Mindful
Every day
I see or hear
something
that more or less
kills me
with delight,
that leaves me
like a needle
in the haystack
of light.
It was what I was born for –
to look, to listen,
to lose myself
inside this soft world –
to instruct myself
over and over
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in joy,
and acclamation.
Nor am I talking
about the exceptional,
the fearful, the dreadful,
the very extravagant –
but of the ordinary,
the common, the very drab
the daily presentations.
Oh, good scholar,
I say to myself,
how can you help
but grow wise
with such teachings
as these –
the untrimmable light
of the world,
the ocean’s shine,
the prayers that are made
out of grass?
(from Why I Wake Early by Mary Oliver) |
This spring the hues of green, the new growth poking its way through the cold ground, the surprise of new snow on a Saturday in May, all of it is a glorious sign of the presence of God and of the beginning of the new heaven and the new earth that is coming down out of heaven from God.
It’s not only modern poets who speak of how the natural world can speak to us. The fourth century African bishop, Augustine also knew: “Some people, in order to discover God, read books. But there is a great book: the very appearance of created things. Look above you! Look below you! Read it. God, whom you want to discover, never wrote that book with ink. Instead, He set before your eyes the things that He had made. Can you ask for a louder voice than that?”
So, friends, in these glorious spring days, as the grandeur of God comes alive again, be prepared to be “killed with delight.” The new creation is bursting forth right before your eyes as the trees shine; right in front of your nose as the lilacs bloom; and in the sound of the returning song birds.
“O good scholar, … how can you help but grow wise with such teachings as these.”
Peace to all of you
Pastor Lee Goodwin +
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