I am a wanderer. I would say that I am a seeker, but sometimes I have no idea what I might be seeking, so I will stick with wanderer. This blog is more a public journal than anything. I don't claim to have life figured out. I simply stumble from mystery to mystery, and share my reflections along the way. Sometimes I feel burdened, and trudge. Sometimes? Well sometimes grace breaks through, and its time to dance.
Saturday, October 12, 2019
finding treasure
God decided to hide the kingdom of heaven not in any of the
extraordinary places that treasure hunters would be sure to check but in the
last place that any of us would think to look, namely, in the ordinary
circumstances of our everyday lives…. the extraordinary hidden in the ordinary,
the kingdom of heaven all mixed in with the humdrum and ho-hum of our days, as
easy to find as… a child’s smile when she awakes from sleep, or the first
thunderstorm after a long drought – all of them signs of the kingdom of heaven
clues to all the holiness hidden in the dullest of our days.
Barbara
Brown Taylor, Heaven, p.44
___________________________________
we are all at some level treasurer hunters
all seeking for those precious things that make a life
hope, for example
or meaning
or love
or Love (
call them what you will
those are the things that comprise the kingdom of heaven
the reality is
our days are littered with treasure
with Sacred gifts
today
on a day much like any other day
a day perhaps, not to look forward
a long drive home after a long week
full of meetings and airplane flights, and airports
today treasure abounded
the sunrise oozing through the clouds
a good, hot Americano
the joy of Finn (the dog) when I arrived home
eggs in the chicken coop
a welcome from “the girls” (horses)
to be sure
there were detours along the way
the usual onslaught of horrific news
construction zones
instrusive thoughts
lingering notes of fear, and anger, and regret
not to mention guilt
and perhaps a touch of despair
but still
I could not help but trip over
treasure
sunshine on the mountain
the breeze, whispering through the aspens
signs of the kingdom
on the most common of days
Let those who have ears to hear, hear
Let those who have eyes to see, see
________________________________-
Glory be to God for dappled things—
For skies of
couple-colour as a brinded cow;
For
rose-moles all in stipple upon trout that swim;
Fresh-firecoal chestnut-falls; finches' wings;
Landscape
plotted and pieced—fold, fallow, and plough;
And all
trades, their gear and tackle and trim.
All things counter, original, spare, strange;
Whatever is
fickle, freckled (who knows how?)
With swift,
slow; sweet, sour; adazzle, dim;
He fathers-forth whose beauty is past change:
Praise
Him.
Gerard Manley
Hopkins
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