Monday, January 24, 2011

Tryanny of All that's Possible

This moment - right now at this moment I'm doing what I'm supposed to do. I don't know where it's leading or what's next but I'm listening and following - right now. And that really is all I CAN do. Sometimes I think we try and convince ourselves that if we do this, then that will happen. So we do things anticipating a certain outcome and completely miss the moment. Because this moment's not what's important - it's the outcome that is important, right?
But what if this moment IS the outcome? I’ll say that again – What if this moment IS the outcome?
What if everything I've done in the past was all to get me to THIS moment -where I am right now - who I will impact today?
How cool is that? The potential in every decision, every thought is electric to me.
I will not let the tyranny of a possible future, a possible outcome negate or water down this moment. This day.

I will not.

Friday, January 14, 2011

Bare Limbs.

Something about home in the winter stirs me. Or rather - stills me.
There is no hiding under leafy branches or behind bounteous gardens. Flowers do not vie for attention and bright leaves are brown, fallen, gone. Like the trees, houses are stripped to the essentials. Windows reflect light back and look cold, unseeing. The only pots hold mounds of frozen pansies, huddled together in defeat waiting for a warmer day.
Inside the air is still until a rush of heat moves through, but the heater routinely kicks off and the stillness falls again. Sunlight caresses the dining room table, the kitchen floor, and my steaming coffee cup yet the caresses are chill.
The emotion, the hopes, the thrills of the holidays are gone, not even a left-over cookie remains. And yet I carry all of it forward with me. And now there is time to examine it. To sit beside a cold window and see more than the winter landscape. To see the past year. To see the coming year. To see.
Bare limbs. Bare houses. Bare soul.
Winter stills me--and I'm grateful.

Tuesday, January 11, 2011

Ever Feel Sorry for God?

Don't you just love that first moment at night when you lay down in bed? Especially if it's been a long or hard day? You stretch and your muscles relax into the mattress and everything rests. That is one of my favorite feelings and often as I lay there, beginning to doze, I feel sorry for God.
Well, I don't feel exactly sorry for him, but I wonder how could he have created something so good, which he never experienced. I mean, God doesn't get tired, right?
God understanding the human body would need sleep--that makes sense. Like a person designing a car understands it will need constant fillings of gas to keep it running. But for God to create this cool thing called sleep and make it so appealing--well, that's just impressive to me.
And then I start thinking about maybe Jesus was debriefed when he returned to heaven. Did God say, "Alright, so how does it feel to be tired? or hungry?" Did he press for details on going to sleep and waking up? Wonder what flavors Jesus preferred? You know, salty or sweet? And did he explain how good fresh bread tastes and how it feels in an empty stomach? Or what being clean feels like when you've been sweaty and dirty? God doesn't get dirty, does he?
I know God knows all these things - but was Jesus being in a human body a way for our God to know us even better? I like to think so.
God is just cool, isn't he?