In the end, this is the most hopeful thing any of us can say about spiritual transformation: I cannot transform myself, or anyone else for that matter. What I can do is create the conditions in which spiritual transformation can take place . . . ~Ruth Haley Barton (via God in the Yard, chapter 2, The Way)
My feet are still chilled, although I’ve been inside now for over an hour.
I almost didn’t go. So much to do. I was so weary yesterday afternoon. Teaching does that to me.
The kitchen’s two-day mess greets me. In fact, every room is clutter strewn.
But then, I’ve made this commitment.
I slip pink and white striped socks on under my white slippers and red and white flannel pants under my pink and white nightshirt. Topped by white robe. Wrapped in red and blue Dora blanket. I go out back where nobody can see me. And sit on the redwood bench.
The noise from the highway is deafening.
I wonder where the birds are. Sleeping in, I guess.
I pull the blanket up to my nose.
And. Just. Sit.
My Susans are spent.
The sun peeks through the trees.
Look how the light begins to play.
Snap. Snap. Snap.
The downy woodpecker returns to the tree. A blue jay swoops overhead. Blackbirds race each other to a distant tree, and some kind of sparrows dance around the chicken house.
And the song begins.
The neighbor’s sheep grazes in the wet grass.
Even my pitiful excuse for a garden is beautiful. I’ll have the neighbor come plow it under this month. The kids want me to plant corn next year. I don’t know if that’s such a good idea.
The world comes alive, and I’m overcome by the wonders and the colors.
And I’m reminded . . .
Sometimes I just gotta do it.
Sometimes I just gotta shut the noise of the world out.
Sometimes I just gotta sit still. And. Wait.
Even in my most pitiful state, I’m beautiful to Him.
And the wonders of this world are but a shadow of what’s to come.
And what I see of me is what I hope is a shadow of Him.
Do not conform any longer to the pattern of this world, but be transformed by the renewing of your mind. Then you will be able to test and approve what God’s will is–his good, pleasing and perfect will. Romans 12:2 (NIV)
I usually write poetry on Wednesday, but I’m not feeling very poetic.