Let us Rise, to the Occasion

And he departed from our sight

This morning, before the rising of the sun, Ginger, Sara and I rose.

We slathered cream cheese on bagels, 

and poured ourselves strong coffee.

We climbed into Ginger's Jeep.

And we went looking.

Driving through our sleepy town, the sky pink around its mountain edge with the promise of the sun, 

lost in our own thoughts,

we arrived here, looking for the sun to rise, 

to settle over us in its daily resurrection song.

But the clouds held our eyes, and all we saw was gray.

that we might return to our heart

So we sat together,

 fed ourselves;

 we talked quietly,

and watched the birds and chipmunks play.

and there find Him. 

But our looking incomplete, our hearts still lost in morning fog,  

we turned ourselves to the story of what the day is said to hold.

And there, we found Him;

we met Him in the Garden, we heard Him call our name.

For He departed, and behold, He is here.

~St. Augustine

And then we talked with Him, and listened to Him be our Sun, 

who Rose, with healing in His wings.

But for you, who revere my name, the Sun of Righteousness will rise with healing in His wings.

And then, having found Him, we went to church to celebrate, with the full worship of our hearts. With deep deep tears of knowing: He is the One we've been looking for, He is our victorious One.

Because clouds could not hold Him, and neither could death.

He, here.

And you will go out and frolic

Later, 

we arrived back at our home,

ready to revel in good company, 

over delicious food,

prepared by many hands.

like calves let out to pasture

We sat comfortably together, we ate with gratefully quiet joy.

We talked, we remembered, we laughed.

We looked for the Sun to Rise, we listened for Him to sing over us His daily Resurrection song.

like well-fed calves.
~Malachi 4:2

And then, we ate dessert.

Two desserts.

In the fullness of His Rising, on this Resurrection Day,
we rose to the Occasion.


For I am come that they may have life 
and have it to the full.
~John 10:10

All Because.

The one on the left is new; 

the one on the right--

is 80!!!!

Yesterday I took a dissertation break, 

 and drove to my aunt's in order to gather with family 

and to celebrate.

We enjoyed just being together, 

with time to make a little music,

and to get re-united.

There was even time for me to take this little guy aside,

and to tell him all about his mama, 

when she was just his size.

 [The disclosures were shocking,

but by the end we were good friends.]

And, in the midst of it all,

we did a lot of laughing,

 we did a lot of remembering,

we did a lot of celebrating,

all because of this incredible lady.

 

We love you Grandma, 

and loved having a day to celebrate you!

Surely.

Sort of like monsoon season, 

Dissertation Season is upon me in fullness.

My calendar's mapped out, every moment is accounted for.

I've told all of my friends: I'll see you in May.

This dissertation is a beast.

And I am a tender, vulnerable, terrified little lamb.

Yet, somehow, the beast is not devouring me...

...Let me tell you why.

~~~~

Earlier last week I noticed something:

When I brought home the darling on the left, it reached out its arms to me, looking for my love.

But, by the next day?

It had figured out I was not the source of its strength, nor was I likely to sustain it well.  And so, it turned its arms to the Source of all Strength, to the Sustainer of all created things.

I looked at that precious thing, reaching out for Light, 

and something inside of me called out:

Do that.  Reach out, for the One.

So, I did. 

In the deepest places of my heart, I spoke the truth of Psalm 17:

I call on you, my God, for you will answer me;
    turn your ear to me and hear my prayer.
Show me the wonders of your great love,
    you who save by your right hand
    those who take refuge in you from their foes.

And now, I am watching Him, showing me His wonders.

He is teaching me, 

leading me, showing me, helping me.

The One who provides for the birds of the air,

is providing for me.

The One who is a shelter and shade from the heat of the day, and a refuge and hiding place from the storm and the rain,

 is sheltering the tenderest, most terrified parts of me.

And He is saying:
It's time to tie together loose ends, it's time to end this Season well.

And so I can say, without fear, without doubt:

This dissertation might be a beast,

but I am feeling fierce.

Surely.

Opening my heart.

I have a bit of a history with all things green.  

The history is: They die.

For years I lived in a cycle of

|buy plant-kill plant-buy plant-kill plant|.

So, somewhere about awhile ago, I decided to gracefully bow out of the greenery scene. My heart had had enough. [Plus, I began to be afraid that some kind of green organization would come after me with allegations of abuse.]  

I carted away the remains.  I mourned.

The pots turned their backs on me and gazed longingly out of the window, at all of the greens living out their calling in flourish and fancy.

A few months went by and the pots and I got used to the silence.

But then, March happened, and March calls for new life.

So, today, in a Spring Break fit of over-confidence

I opened my heart.

I'll let you know how it goes.