Each one who moves from here to there
Takes with them memories no longer shared.
As bulbs burn out, the shadows grow
Until we ourselves pack up and go
To join our light once more with long lost loves,
And leave still others to ache at our passing.
Archive for category Reflections
Aunt Lindy
Nov 16
Well, Summer is dying. Okay, maybe that’s a bit morose. But it’s always how it feels to me. I know many people love the coming of autumn, and I understand those who are tired of the heat and humidity which, believe it or not, really will soon come to an end. But for me, the last week of August has always been more bitter than sweet. Partly because I would rather sweat than shiver, but partly because I have been trained most of my life to mourn when August ends.
“Back to School” ads always made me angry as a kid, and frankly don’t please me much even today. I associate the end of summer with the end of freedom, the beginning of anxiety, and a significant uptick in the number of meetings I have to go to. Every night the cicadas grow louder as they play their requiem to joy, and before we know it, all the plant life around us will begin to die. Bleh!
At the same time, I am very aware that I am actually (to me, surprisingly) in the minority in this regard. So normally I keep these feelings mostly to myself. And I respect the fact that others quicken at the thought of buying new trapper keepers and look forward to the air eventually becoming “crisp”. I respect them, because I have learned that it’s okay for other people to be wrong, sometimes.
In all seriousness, there are plenty of things going on around us this week that could make a person smile. I just thought it’d be a rare treat for you to read a Pastor’s Box written from the perspective of a curmudgeon. The Lord promised in Genesis that we would never see an end to “seed time and harvest, cold and heat, summer and winter, and day and night”. Hidden within this statement is the spiritual truth that even angels in heaven go through fluctuating states of spiritual summer and winter. So although the state of a spiritually reborn individual is generally that of an optimist, they nevertheless have their better and their less good days, attitude-wise. So hopefully you’ll permit this sinner his moment wallowing in the dark tea-time of the soul, now and then.
The Ocean
Jul 16
How’s your summer going? Been to the beach? The mountains? Visit with relatives? Have you tried a “staycation”, taking the phone off the hook and shutting down your internet connection and pretending you’re not at home? Whatever you do for relaxation in the summer, I hope it’s working for you and that you’re finding the time to do it. Recreation is an important part of living.
Last week I and my wife and kids all went to the Jersey shore for a low-key getaway. Lots of miniature golf and sitting in the sand and reading books together. I am not, generally speaking, a nature person. I get as much inspiration watching people in airports and crowds rushing around on a city sidewalk as I do walking through a forest or watching a bird build a nest. Some might think I’m weird, and I suppose I probably am. But the one aspect of nature that I really find puts me in touch with the Divine like nothing else is the ocean.
I am an ocean guy. I love the waves, the crash of surf, the infinite variety of ripples upon waves upon swells upon currents. I’m not too hot about mysterious pointy things that stab your ankles, but that’s beside the point. I just plain love the ocean. And on this last visit, I had an experience I’d like to share with you.
I was standing on the edge of the surf, looking out at the waves, and beyond them at the seemingly infinite horizon. My four-year-old son’s little hand was gripping my right hand, and he stood there with me. Occasionally he would get a little more adventuresome and take another step deeper into the water, and I’d step with him. Sometimes he’d back out a few quick steps, and I’d calmly retreat with him. However deep he wanted to go, I would go, and no deeper. And holding my hand, he felt totally free to explore safely. And I got to thinking.
First, I reflected that my own father probably did the same with me, although I cannot remember it. I prayed that my son would remember this somehow. Then for a moment I felt a yearning pang, thinking, “Who do I have to hold my hand and guide and protect me as I stand at the edge of the ocean?” Of course, I immediately realized that I had my Father in Heaven, who was always willing to hold my hand. And then is when it really hit me.
The Word of God is an ocean of truth. We first approach it unable to swim, unable to fathom its depths, unable to cross it. It is an immense mystery that draws us. We spend much of our time just playing in its surf. Even as we get older and go deeper, we still are only just splashing in its edges. We can build boats (construct a studied understanding of doctrine) with which to cross it, but even then we are only just on its surface. We can swim in it, and explore its depths, and yet we are still only just barely comprehending it. Put on a mask and dive deep, and you may think you are seeing everything down there, but the reality is you can only see a short distance. You could explore it forever. Read Secrets of Heaven, and it is not hard to get the same sensation one gets when gazing at the ocean.
I shared this thought with my ten-year-old son, and he added another angle that I love: when you look inside it, you see fish and realize that the whole thing is full of life.
It has been said by many that God wrote two books: the Bible and Nature. Isn’t it delightful that a knowledge of correspondences gives us a key to understanding both. At least a little.