Day to day observations, trials and triumphs.
Wonder for the common and uncommon.
Stepping back to gain perspective.
Lewis's Miniature Garden brings joy bubbling up from the experience of the garden and the message it brings. It's a message of delight and wonder--a glimpse into the original design and the future restoration. For Lewis the moment was tied to that small garden. For me it was a walk through a high mountain meadow. Here was everything I ever wanted. Here was fulfillment. Here was the call of the Creator to come in, come in! " Draw near to God and He will draw near to you."
A warm winter day, and I sit on the porch admiring the sky. The smallest of spiders dangles down from the rafters, and the breeze lifts him up and swings him back. Spider season is coming. This is when every walk through the woods involves the first-in-line waving a stick or such to clear the way from the sticky fibers that transverse every pathway. This is when power lines are decorated in glittering webs in consistent distribution between the wires along the roadway. I've always been impressed with the skill and tenacity of the spiders. And confused. I could not figure out how they anchored their webs on both sides, considering they are so small. So small.
I was thinking they had plans and were in control of their web building. I couldn't be more wrong.
As the tiny spider dangles before me, I watch the wind swing him upwards and can see the multiple possibilities of where his second anchor might eventually be. It occurs to me it doesn't matter to him; his calling is to build a web. And rebuild it when it is destroyed. But he anchors one end, and then lets the wind take him where it will, always ready to anchor the second end and begin work.
How many times does the spider attempt the second anchor, so he can begin building? How long does it take? Some spiders must hit the jackpot right away, while others must wait and wait and wait, for what could seem like an eternity. They could get very hungry. I'm thinking each spider must have it's own story, so to speak. But most impressive is their ability to anchor on one side and swing in the breeze for the rest. This is trust. This is faith.
Yesterday was blog day, at least officially. I, however, spent the day in bed unable to work or sleep due to the pain in my body. Everything hurt--my skin, my bones, my head, my muscles. Silly me. I had forgotten that the side effects of a certain vaccination that I blithely took the day before, thinking, "Maybe this time, the second dose, it won't be so bad." It was worse.
So the day ground on; my eyes hurting enough I couldn't read or watch TV. My plan to type on the laptop was a fool's notion. I listened to podcasts and drifted in and out such that I couldn't really say what the podcasts were about. I desperately chugged some Nyquil, just so I could sleep through the pain. And there you have it--a solid 24 hours from my life--gone.
It's a Full Stop. I have seen it before, in my life and in the lives of others. It is hard not to resent it and look back at it and say, "What was THAT about??!??"
But this is not really a bad question. We can't always know the answer, though we will not stop trying to guess at it, but it is good to look at the times we lose our self-definition through activity or productivity, and struggle mightily to know we are still beloved and have nothing to prove. I think this is particularly difficult in the current culture (the current state?). My sense in bed yesterday was that I was not moving forward (with my own plans?) so I was sliding backwards--ever backwards. I should know better. The Full Stop is the opportunity to let go, regroup, and reevaluate.
I admit I am still working on the answer to what the Full Stop is about. Christianese will say it is God trying to get your attention. Meh. Maybe. I prefer to see it as a realignment of our paradigm--to see ourselves as helpless yet in His arms, valuable for being made in His image, and established in life--for life's sake. Maybe that's the same thing. Over ten years ago when an accident damaged all my gates of perception, and I experienced the ultimate Full Stop for more than a year (in spite of my effort to keep going just to end up with those wheels spinning!), my mantra was Life for Life's sake. I am not beholden to the "do and do,"
The funny thing is, today I feel like I've been resurrected. It doesn't matter what I "do," it is just good to be upright. It is good to be breathing. And the sense of sliding backwards has dissipated like smoke in the wind. This seems to be part of the answer to the question "What was THAT about??1??" Like the sermon by S.M. Lockridge, "It's Friday, but Sunday's comin'!". Sunday always comes.