Thursday, April 8, 2010

Miracle

(written yesterday)

Spring! I think I've got it in my blood. I'm sure you can tell, because of the way I mention the weather in every blog entry I write, even if the blog entry ends up having nothing at all to do with spring. However, I'm coming to believe that pretty much everything has to do with spring, because spring is about new life, and life is central to...well, this is profound...life. I'm just so philosophical, aren't I?

I think my sheep-like (i.e., rather foolish and gullible) nature) will always keep me from waxing stuffy. I will always be wondering things like, "Huh, isn't it funny how the border of Texas runs right along the Rio Grande?"

Spring. New life. Watch the news or pick up the papers and you'll see no end of tragedy and strife, but talk a walk outside today and you'll find yourself realizing that apart from anything horrible that goes on, it's a brilliant miracle that life exists at all. My friend Lauren lives on a farm and she wrote about this after observing the animals and their personalities. Unfortunately I can't find the link to that blog so you can read it...me and technology. What a joke.

Sometimes I think about it in airports. The miracle of life existing, that is. It's a perfect opportunity to stare at people, being so tired you can't think and you're licensed to stare blankly at people (within reason). Features and complexions differ nearly as much as clothing and luggage styles. The travelers come from a city on the other side of the world or right down the road from you, and they might be headed to a grand city or to a remote desert.

The miracle is that two people ever found each other in this chaotic world and conceived them and they somehow survived the trauma of being an infant. (Can you imagine the culture shock of living outside the womb for the first time?) And then they traversed they intensely awkward and perilous years of young adulthood, braving all the questions of existence, finding a way through the murky waters of life to some sort of job or family or community life.

And all these people, whether strong or weak, happy or unhappy, confused or content, good or bad, all of them are milling about the terminal or taking off their tennis shoes right in front of you in line, and it's stunning, if you think about it, that they made it here at all. Life.

I was so chipper and happy this morning that I went out on a walk twice just to look at everything, to feel the sun, to tell God how happy I was, to just thank him for all the good things He's put in my life. I used to complain so much, and I still fall into that, but I find that when I practice the discipline (and it truly is a discipline,) of thanking Him for every little thing, even the things I don't like, I end up falling into a state of intense happiness and peace. Which is a very good state to be in. And I'm still here, only now I'm blogging about it.

The sky is like an exquisitely blue eye with a burning yellow pupil, which became a disturbing image when I dwell on it too long, but is effective anyway, and the whole landscape looks drunk with vibrant green. The wind is happy, the little birds and bugs and small animals can't get enough of it. Cars on the distant highway even drone with a happy drone. Sometimes they just sound lonely, but today, they're different. Flowers have come up that weren't there just days ago, proudly sporting their purple and yellow, glowing with radiance. Even my hair feels happy and curlier than usual, reaching out to touch the sun.

We forget to worship the Lover of Our Souls, because we're human and we're busy, but creation doesn't forget. Creation exists to worship. And I don't think the trees get bored of it, all winter standing in reverence with their branches lifted to a quiet sky. I don't think a single square inch of ground is grudging when it's time and it's able to bring a blade of grass or a violet into the world as an offering to the Master. It's spring, and even the torn and weary creation is beside itself to celebrate the new life that is to come in Jesus.

Yes! Yes! Yes! Come Lord Jesus!

2 comments:

Anonymous said...

Well put, Cassaroo! May we too, His highest creation be like those trees in the winter worshipping even when there is no evidence of life. Life surely comes and even is! Amen!

Love ya,
Mom

Anonymous said...

Thank you for writing.

anonju