Sometimes I am overcome by the blessings that abound in my life. I am privileged to be part of a transformative process for others and in the process am continually renewed and transformed myself. Last week, I spent time in West Texas at a ranch some would call barren and desolate. I would call it anything but that.I wish I were a poet so I could describe all the wonder around me; like the army of minuscule ants streaming up and down the porch pole; the small bird so confident, swaying and speaking from the top of a cottonwood tree; the soft brown bunnies frolicking in the grass; the paintbrush of color spread across the field—shades of red, maroon, violet that I cannot describe mixed with layers of yellow and golden wildflowers; the occasional fuchsia petals looking like purple round porcupines perched on top of gentle stems so inviting yet hiding the tiniest barbs to protect their lovely necks; the buzzing flies and biting mosquitoes, while not my favorite, also have their place.
The gentle breeze touches my skin—Yahweh speaks; clouds so light they look like feathers; a bobwhite calls in the distance. The earth sways with the voice of God, so soft and tender this morning in stark contrast to the majesty and power of the booming thunder and brilliant light show witnessed the night before. The pounding rain turning the red dirt into clay ready for the potter to mold.
My heart cries, “Mold me. Shape me. Wash over me. Cleanse me. Make me pure of heart and gentle like the breeze; strong as the storm yet pliable as the clay. Meet me here, oh God.”
The gentle wind responds, “I am here. Give me space, and time will cease to exist.”
The grass blows in the breeze like stalks of wheat ready for harvest. The grape vines are gone, left in their place a pathway of tiny white flowers. The earth continues. Nature finds its path, its rhythm. The breath of life. The voice of God.
What if with every breath we call God’s name? My heart is here giving God space. God--the ultimate poet. Romantic. The scribe of the world. Magnificent artist. Ultimate in glory. Amen.
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5 comments:
"I wish I were a poet" -- oh but you are my friend, and your post is very poetic. ;-)
Oh, but you are a poet!
What is poetry, anyway, but the deepest expression of our hearts, and a whole story told with just a few words.
That ranch sounds like a place I would love (even if it is in Texas!)
funny how you both picked up on the "poet" line. the writing came out of my stream of consciousness morning pages. i almost revised the line out, but somehow it seemed to fit.
cb--thanks for the reminder of what poetry is. i sometimes think if it doesn't rhyme or fit the middle school teacher's format, it isn't poetry worthy.
glad to have good friends in my fan club.
thank you both!
btw--the ranch is called brazos de dios (arms of God)
Lucy, that is the website I found when I googled Soltura! How wonderful that you are a part of it.
"Give me space, and time will cease to exist." "What if with every breath we call God's name?" Beautiful lines; the whole post is.
thanks, gabrielle. here's wishing some space for you, too!
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