The landscape around my house is changing. The deciduous trees along the Coal Creek are beginning to bud, we stroller to the park of green grass, and Lydia’s pink ball winks in the blue sky that holds its hue long enough to play outside after dinner. The world around us shifts, and our interior landscape is growing, too. Lydia claims more and more words and skills with her bike while Spencer’s delight gives him a permanent smile and carefree curiosity to roll over. And I am pondering what nature and the Holy One have in mind as the big reveal of winter- stored energy and seeds waiting patiently- blossoms into spring and summer. How do I partner with this world, the same in many ways, but very new yet again this season? Are there things that I planted or forgot to harvest last fall popping up in the wet soil- onions or ministry ideas? Will I recognize the world around me in its new finery, its maturity and growth even as I look upon my own spiritual journey or the integrated wisdom born out in the children or youth after a year? How does my attitude shift as I watch something bloom even though I had no part in its beautiful reality; am I simply grateful or resentful that I make it happen?
These are the thoughts I muse upon in this Easter season. It is the time to revel in God’s mysterious grace, love, and abundance poured out and exploding into color and life all over. And it’s time to look back at winter for a moment to say thanks to God and the world for continuing its live-giving efforts even in secret for we all relish and take sustenance in the hard work. May we be encouraged to infuse our current thoughts, efforts, and attitudes with the delight of creation even when we need to lean into what cannot be controlled.
Blessings for your journey, Pastor Sarah
Beannacht
by John O’Donohue
On the day when
The weight deadens
On your shoulders
And you stumble,
May the clay dance
To balance you.
And when your eyes
Freeze behind
The grey window
And the ghost of loss
Gets into you,
May a flock of colours,
Indigo, red, green
And azure blue,
Come to awaken in you
A meadow of delight.
When the canvas frays
In the currach of thought
And a stain of ocean
Blackens beneath you,
May there come across the waters
A path of yellow moonlight
To bring you safely home.
May the nourishment of the earth be yours,
May the clarity of light be yours,
May the fluency of the ocean be yours,
May the protection of the ancestors be yours.
And so may a slow
Wind work these words
Of love around you,
An invisible cloak
To mind your life.