Rapid
Rapid. Quickly. Fast. ASAP. Stat. Get it done yesterday!
Rushed. Full tilt. This instant!
Speedy. Post haste. In a flash. Hurry it up. Give it to me now!
Don’t stop until it’s done. Don’t breath until you finish. It can’t wait.
Faster, quicker, run! Run! RUN!
RIP
Rise/Set
Rise…Set. Young…Old. Light…Dark. Beginning…End. The Alpha and the Omega.
He is, He was, and He always will be.
Lives come and go. Generations come and go. Civilizations come and go.
He is, He was, and He always will be.
People live, love, hurt, die. The Bible is full of imperfect people living out their lives in an imperfect world. The common thread?
He is, He was, and He always will be.
Babies suffer and die horrible deaths. Good people loose and bad people win. Justice is buried under a dung heap of greed.
He is, He was, and He always will be.
He is the Almighty, Unfathomable being who knows the beginning from the end. There are great and multidimensional mysteries in His ways that we are too corporal and young to even begin to comprehend.
He was the Creator of this universe and the God who offered His Son to become one of the created, to reconcile His rebellious creation to Himself.
He will be forever with those who choose Him, using all of eternity to make up for this bit of suffering we must endure now. The Creator knows what brings joy and fulfillment to His creation better than we know ourselves. But it has not been His way to force it upon us.
And the babies? I don’t deign to know anything except for my complete trust in His Love to solve any issue.
He is, He was and He always will be…
My Happy Place
My Happy Place is anywhere I can stop and observe the simple complex beauty of life.
The Northwest United States is a special happy place filled with natural wonders, rich memories and a wealth of family and friends.
My heart was heavy with the weight of my only brother, only sibling for that matter, lying in ICU, holding onto his life with a stubborn tenacity only he could manage. I was talking to God in my head as I drove along the riverside road. I questioned, “Can you really hear these words in my thoughts even if I don’t speak them out loud? How would I know that you really hear me? Do I have to speak out loud?”
I noticed a few people at the top of a small knoll between me and the river watching something intently on the other side. I carefully pulled to the side, got out of the car and worked my way to the top of the hill. There on the other side were over a dozen bald eagles, perching in the trees, swooping down to catch a swimming prey. Up and down stream as far as I could see were more clusters of these grande and beautiful birds. I heard a wet hissing spray of breath and looked down into the water below me to see a sea lion surface, then roll gently over a few times before diving down into the deep again. Closer inspection revealed several others that must have followed the Salmon run, just like the eagles, up the river from the North Pacific Ocean many miles downstream.
I stood mesmerized for several minutes, probably close to an hour, breathing in deeply the cold, crisp winter air. It was a rare clear, sunny day. Job’s conversation with God came into my thoughts: “Where were you when I founded the earth? Say so, if you have understanding! Who determined its measurements? Surely you know! Or who extended a measuring line upon it? On what were its footings sunk? Or who laid its cornerstone? When the morning stars rejoiced together and all the divinities shouted for joy?…Hath the rain a father? or who hath begotten the drops of dew? Out of whose womb came the ice? and the hoart frost of heaven, who hath gendered it?…Canst thou bring the sweet influences of Pleiades, or loose the bands of Orion?: Job 38. “Then Job answered the LORD, and said, I know that thou canst do every thing, and that no thought can be withholden from thee.” Job 42. Ok, God, thanks! I hear YOU loud and clear.
This is the answer why my greatest joy in life is to meditate on the intricate beauty, variety, and endless lessons present in the world my God created for me to care for. It’s an adventure I never tire of.
October 2, 2017
As clear as fog at dusk
Webster defines a fact as “something that has actual existence”. It defines existence as “the state or fact of having being especially independently of human consciousness and as contrasted with nonexistence.” Therein lies the circular difficulty of the concept. A fact is defined by, and limited to, our perceptions and our knowledge base, which is never constant. That which we “knew” to be fact 30 years ago may be suspect today. That which we know today may be thrown over by the discoveries of tomorrow.
Science is a tool that helps us explore, define and understand the “facts” of our world. What we hold as scientific fact is constantly in flux, changing as we delve deeper and deeper into our incredibly complex universe. We have probably just barely scraped the surface. How can we arrogantly say that what we know now is fact, absolute truth? Certain philosophers believe there is no such thing as absolute truth. Philosophy is a game of concepts and ideas that can use reason to prove anything to be “true”, or it can lead you into a merry circular mind trap you may never escape from. It has it’s purpose in the world, but finding fact is not it.
So Webster, science, and philosophy cannot even tell us with absolute certainty “What is fact”. What do we do? That is up to each and every one of us to decide. We all start out with a system of “beliefs” given to us by our family, and our environment. It up to us to question and evaluate said system to either truly make it our own, or to move on to one that better suits our own perception of fact. Not a very stable answer, is it?
Barkscape
Returning to my car after choir practice, noticed a small swarm of bees in the tree shading my car. They were buzzing about over my head, busily collecting pollen and ignoring me, but making me a bit nervous nevertheless! I slowly backed away until I came up short against the trunk of the tree of interest. I glanced over my shoulder and, lo and behold, I was transported to the moon! Of course, I had to whip out my phone and take a shot of this glorious barkscape before I inched around the industriously busy bees and escaped into the interior of my car.
Mom
I have described my mother as a woman who fought fiercely for her children and her children’s children while still maintaining the disposition of an angel. Honestly, she would have fought for anyone’s children if she thought they needed it. This picture is one of the only ones I will share that I did not take myself, as obviously, I could not be there.
I would like to dedicate a section of this site to celebrating the life of this amazing woman in all her wonderful imperfect glory. She lived with an terribly frustrating illness that drove her and all of us around her absolutely bonkers at times, but her concern was always for the people around her, even in the midst of this. As I shared her struggle at the very end of her life when the pain was too great to hide anything but the very root of a person’s character, her stubborn determination to put everyone else’s needs first was still prominent. The last shreds of humanity left in her ravaged, hollowed out shell, was still that of a beautiful, sweet, southern bell, with only love for her family and her God in her heart.
The Old Oak Tree
Life may be fragile in that it can be snuffed out in the blink of an eye, but in other ways it is incredibly tenacious and strong.
Take the oak tree. On a recent trip I stopped briefly on a hill in (of all places) Pleasant Hill. 🙂 I wanted to refresh myself and indulge in a bit of my favorite pastime: taking photos of nature. It was a stunningly beautiful day, the grass on Dinosaur Hill a shimmering emerald green, a few stately oak trees crowned the top and smaller scrub oaks dotted the downward slopes.
As I approached these small, but tough and scruffy looking trees, I noticed first the olive hued rounded clumps of mistletoe. A little closer and I could also see that these trees were riddled with small swollen galls. These are formed by a wasp laying it’s eggs and injecting the plant with chemicals that induce it to form a protective and nutrient rich home for the young larvae. This can lead to damage to the circulatory system in addition to a drain on the trees food resources.
I gave in to the temptation to stand under a large clump of mistletoe; however, aside from a few couples enjoying a nice afternoon stroll and a rather bohemian-looking young lady leaning against a stone at the top of the hill reading a book, I was alone. Alas, no late Christmas smo for me. I have often wondered why a questionably-attractive, poisonous, parasitic plant was chosen to encourage a couple to embrace and kiss. I recently gave in to curiosity and discovered, as many of our current traditions, this one originated with the Celtic Druids and the Greeks, and yes, it had to do with life and fertility. Ironically, it was also believed to protect from poison.
While it was not my day to gain a kiss, I did see a remarkable thing. These trees, with both an abundance of mistletoe and wasp galls sapping their life’s blood, were already showing Spring’s sweet promise, and here it was only the last day of January. There were buds opening to display fresh new growth here and there all over the tree. The unseasonably warm weather and earlier winter rains had made everything green and awoken the tree sap.
I was reminded of my own life which has not always been perfectly ideal. I have had experiences with assault, with cancer, with loss. There are scars and some still fresh wounds…however, I am not defeated. God has given me that same resilience he gave these trees. I will always bounce back when the rays of His love and acceptance shine down on me and His grace showers me with unexpected and undeserved glimpses of beauty and kindness.
I can’t help but burst forth with new life again in celebration of such a God. I am in awe.
Quiet Thunderings 