A Song for Earth Day

Sing GOD a brand-new song!

Earth and everyone in it, sing!

Sing to GOD—worship GOD!

 

Bravo, GOD, Bravo!

Everyone join in the great shout: Encore!

In awe before the beauty, in awe before the might.

 

Get out the message—GOD Rules!

GOD put the world on a firm foundation;

He treats everyone fair and square.

 

Let’s hear it from Sky,

With Earth joining in,

And a huge round of applause from Sea.

 

Let Wilderness turn cartwheels,

Animals, come dance,

Put every tree of the forest in the choir—

 

An extravaganza before GOD . . . 

 

GOD rules: there’s something to shout over!

On the double, mainlands and islands—celebrate!

Bright clouds and storm clouds circle ‘round . . .

Lightnings light up the world . . .

The heavens announce that GOD will set everything right,

And everyone will see it happen—glorious!

 

You, GOD, are High God of the cosmos,

Far, far higher than any of the gods.

Psalm 96-97 from The Message

Cone Complexity

Each morning when I take my daily walk, pinecone-laden evergreens greet me. They invite me to notice their stateliness, their straightness, their structuredness. And they invite me to notice how they carry their piney children.

Each parent tree holds its cones differently. Some evergreens grow their coney children in large clusters, some in small clumps, and some grow them singly. Some trees hide their cones among the needles while others boldly display them from the ends of their branches. Some bear cones that are light-colored and flexible; others bear cones that are dark and rigid. There are inch-sized cones, eight inch-sized cones, and all the inch sizes in between. There are roundish cones and longish cones. There are cones that prick the fingers, cones that welcome the hand, cones that are closed, cones that are open, and there are sappy cones.

These cones and their parents captivate me. I am unable to pass them by without giving them the eye. I think of their Creator and mine. This is a Creator who seems to be unconcerned with uniformity. Rather intentional complexity seems to describe the Creator of pinecones and their parent trees.

 If the Creator is invested in complex cones, I have to believe that a similar or greater investment is placed in my complex self. If my complexity is the intentional action of the Creator, then I have permission to be complicated in my emotions, my thoughts, my choosings, my doings, and whatever else tends to be multifarious. In other words, God thinks that my complex self is an “okay” place to be.

Happy Harvesting

I've been thinking about The Kingdom and harvesting. Not long ago, I created a collage based on Luke 10. The three words on my collage were Harvest Power . . .  Peace. As I worked on the collage, I kept getting the image of peace as the essence of Kingdom, Peace as the power of the Kingdom, Peace as the power behind the harvest. I like that imagery.

As a gardener who has been bringing in the harvest over the past several weeks, I can appreciate the "power" needed to be constant and intentional about tending to the harvesting. There is also something peaceful in attending to the harvest. It is a focused energy that ignores distractions for the sake of harvesting what can be harvested before the cold rains put the harvest to rest. 

Likewise, there is a peaceful power that exists in the Kingdom field. But the peaceful seems to be more a sense of something other than actually finding manifestations of peace. I am not certain what that means, but simply being present in the midst of the harvest gives me a nice sense of being at peace despite the junk going on in the world around me.

Thus, on this Hallowed Eve, I say to you, "Happy Harvesting."

Grape Death

This autumn, I’ve been reflecting on death. No, I am not suicidal or being morbid. This death is the kind that falls under the category of inner death. Over the past few years, many inward things have died. Misunderstandings about God have died; bitter attitudes have died; unhealthy behaviors have died; destructive thoughts have died. And with all this dying has come a renewed life—a new way of being and of living. 

Yesterday, I was preparing Concord grapes for making jam. As I worked, I found that there was something delightfully sinister in removing the skins. As my left hand pinched each purple grape skin, it would spit through the stem end the soft green innards into my right hand. In the end, I had a pile of split and empty skins and a pile of warm and plump insides. The aroma of dying grapes saturated the kitchen and my heart. 

That aroma wafted through my mind and brought thoughts of inner dying with it. Inner death requires peeling away some of the tough exterior and exposing some of the vulnerable interior. It is giving up self-serving attitudes and behaviors. This kind of dying has a sinister feel to it. The process feels disconnected and empty, but the end result warms and plumps the inner life. The death becomes part of a delightfully fulfilled life. 

As I live in the aroma of death and life, I find that it is one of those mysterious paradoxes: life requires death and death requires life.

Photo:http://pinotage.info/wine-grapes.php

Autumn's Invitation

Autumn, how I love the season. It is a time of preparation—a preparing for death. This summer my garden was abundantly fruitful. The plants did their jobs well. The harvest was plentiful. So the past few weeks have been full of taking in the harvest and putting food away for the winter. Salsa, tomatoes, green beans, wax beans, purple beans, applesauce, snow peas, peppers, dried herbs, and grape juice.

Some vegetables survive the onslaught of the cold weather—brussel sprouts and kale. But most die the slow death of shorter days, cooler weather, and mildew brought on by the rain; until eventually, they are killed completely by the first hard frost. Then, they lie down and quietly succumb to the earth. What was vibrant is now mute. What was life-giving is now life-less.

But each fruitful plant has left behind a bit of itself—one bit will nourish us through winter evenings, another bit will nourish the small garden creatures that live beneath the soil, and another bit will wait silently for the resurrection signal when it will move and emerge from its resting place in the ground and become a changed form of its parent.

Autumn is an invitation to a death—to allow something that needs to die, die. It invites me to let go of being abundant and fruitful and to lie quietly and rest. It invites me to store up a reserve for the dead days of a spiritual winter. It is an invitation to go underground into the heart’s soil—into the earth of the inner garden and nourish what lies hidden there. And it is an invitation to wait silently for the call—the resurrection cry. Then, movement and life will emerge out of that resting place, the same yet not the same, a transformed image of what I was.

Apologizing to a Pupa

Today I apologized to a pupa in a cocoon, and then I squished it.  It was metamorphosing on one of the tomatoes that I had picked from my garden. Honestly, squashing insects is extremely distasteful. I do it, not because I hate bugs, but because I dislike the destruction they bring on the fruiting plants. I kill them for the health of my garden. I also destroy slugs, earwigs, sow bugs, aphids, caterpillars, and other such undesirables. And I apologize to them. That may seem sentimental maybe even idiotic, but I do it in honor of their Creator. 

The tiny creatures that I kill are doing what they must do to exist. All the same, God made them, and I feel a bit of remorse when I exterminate them. My own belief is that God, the Creator of all that is earth, cares about all that is earthen. That is not to say that He doesn’t realize that some things have become a nuisance. Not at all. I think He sees the problem in great detail and understandingly looks on while I capture and do away with them. But I’ll not do it disrespectfully as though God gives no thought to such bothersome creatures.

Once I was having a conversation with a Christian young man who was learning gun safety so that he could go hunting with his dad. He was overly excited and exclaimed that when he was done with his training, he could go out and “kill something.” Chills and shivers crept over me. Now, I am not opposed to hunting or the killing of animals when it is appropriate and respectful. It was the underlying attitude that frightened me. He would kill without regard for the Creator of such a wonderful creatures. I think he could use a lesson in Native American respect for creation and for the One Who Made It.

As for me, I will continue to extend shalom, peace, to those earthen creatures with whom I live and with those who die for my own sense of well being. I’ll do it for the honor of their Creator because what He loves, I love.

Photo:http://www.agriculture.gov.sk.ca/Default.aspx?DN=688b2f99-ad99-423d-900c-c01a1c45d8a1

Caterpillar Issues

This morning I was grooming my hanging petunia baskets and noticed that some of the blossoms were half gone or missing parts. As I looked closer, I saw definite signs of a caterpillar, but I couldn’t find it. I scoured the plant as I continued removing dried leaves and spent flowers, but saw no worm. I turned to begin tidying another petunia plant and immediately saw a green caterpillar clinging to one of the stems of this next plant. I saw it clearly because I was farther back from the plant and had a different view from the one I had been scrutinizing. I removed the green offender and then turned back to the previous plant. I stepped back and examined from a distance. Unbelievable . . . I found two caterpillars out in the open, not hidden, not under the foliage, but right where I could pick them off and do away with them easily.

Of course, I started to think how little I see when I am in the midst of some personal issue or problem or a difficult relationship. I experience all the offending signs that something is wrong but am incapable of removing my highly charged emotions from the situation. The only remedy for this is to get a new perspective. I must step out of the situation, put some distance between myself and the offending problem, and look at it from a different position. For me to be able to do this, I must be reflective. Instead of scrutinizing the issue, I scrutinize myself. I ask myself a new set of questions like “Whoa, what is it about this that is causing my blood to bubble?” and “Where do I feel that boiling in my body?” and “What is so important to me that I am out of control emotionally?” and “What in my thinking needs to change here?” and others relevant to whatever my condition happens to be at the time. These and other questions seem to help get the new perspective that I need when I am unable to see the worm for the petunia.

Photo:http://bugguide.net/node/view/52250/bgimage

Single-minded Immersion

Today, I am watching the hundreds of bees on my oregano plant. There are two different kinds swarming about. I don't know anything about bees, but one kind is a regular honeybee size and the other is maybe one-eighth (or smaller) the larger-sized. Both kinds are focused, intent upon their work. They move in and out of the blossoms as though today is the only day to collect whatever it is they are gathering. They are not bothered by my presence. If I move the plant, they rise, buzz the air for a moment, and then return to their bee business. These bees spend hours on this plant, every day, all summer and fall until the cold weather sends them sleeping into winter. 

Oh, to be as they are! Focused. Not bothered by distractions that would send me away from the desire of my heart. To be able to stay present to my heart's desire as though today were the only day in which to do it. To be sensitive to movement and make the necessary changes while remaining present to the moment. To remain single-mindedly immersed in today, every day until the winter call comes from my Creator. Oh, to just be! 

Photo: http://www.insectidentification.org/insect-description.asp?identification=Honey-Bee

Art Gallery

Outside, God has an art gallery
Always “Open”

Where living compositions
Shift their hues
And boldly repaint themselves

Where living textures
Invite a touch
And willingly share their presence

Where living contours
Appear as edges
And subtly move their lines

Where living shadows
Lengthen at eve
And teasingly shorten at noon

Where living images
Scramble away
And refuse to live as still life

Where living perspectives
Come forward
And yield not to foreshortening

Where nothing has a price tag
And everything is shared

The sign is always “Open”
To God’s art gallery, Outside.

By Lisa Barnes ©2006

Quote from Thomas Moore

“Spirituality is seeded, germinates, sprouts and blossoms in the mundane. It is to be found and nurtured in the smallest of daily activities.”

Thomas Moore

Thought from the Soul:

It seems to me that there really is no way to be spiritual except in the mundane. We know nothing else. We are born in the world, raised in the world, and die in the world. We are like a seed and the world is the soil. It births us, feeds us, waters us, grows us, buries us. The mundane teaches us what spirituality is. It is the counterpart. To know what it is to be in the world teaches us what it is to be in the Spirit. The hook in this is that we must pay attention to how we are growing. We must reflect on the growing or we will return to dust with no knowledge of what it means to be spiritual in the mundane.

Photo:http://www.uky.edu/Ag/Horticulture/kytreewebsite/Propagation/schoolprojects/seedling%20emergence%20project.htm

Quote from Thomas Moore

"The many great gardens of the world, of literature and poetry, of painting and music, of religion and architecture, all make the point as clear as possible: The soul cannot thrive in the absence of a garden. If you don't want paradise, you are not human; and if you are not human, you don't have a soul."

Thomas Moore

Thought from the Soul:

The Garden of Eden was the home of the first souls. Those souls were exiled from their garden home; and ever since that loss, a great mourning overshadows the earth and the human soul. There is a sad inner cry for Eden and a deep desire for a return to the Elysian Earth.

Lavender Festival

Right now, Sequim, WA is the place to be for all that is lavender. Such a heavenly fragrance. The "aroma of Christ" must surely waft like lavender. In the heat of the day, lavender scents the air. Brush it lightly and it releases its perfume. Its fragrance lingers on hands, clothes, and whatever else is caressed by its oils. It is an aroma that heals the soul, the spirit. So like the "aroma of Christ."