I like big cities and the sea. Both bring something energizing, overwhelming, and numbing to any and every interaction one has with them. It is easy to get lulled by the humdrum repetitiveness which can emerge if one isn’t paying attention to the details. The quiet, almost silent cycle of waves emerging from who knows where. The relentless disappearance of what can seem to be forever lapping on the shore. Even the zombies plodding the streets each morning to their place of work seems to be an exercise in pointless wonder. Why do so many subject themselves to such drudgery?
Whatever the questions are, they uniformly miss the embedded wonder and beauty in the details. In the unending New York mosaic one finds colors, textures, and shapes. The repetitive robots morph into real people with families, stories, and a myriad of thoughts dying for an audience. I wish I could listen in, able query the past to understand. I know it’s a lifetime, but imagine the experience! If only I understood the blind vet walking by, talking to someone unknown, and casually pausing to open each trash bins to see if there is anything worthwhile to collect. Wouldn’t it be amazing to walk with the three young women struggling to come to terms with the road ahead? They may have just been talking through a shared experience but their expressions and body language said something quite different.
In the midst of this I realize I am getting caught in everyone and everything but my self. Where do I fit in this picture? Am I merely a piece of stray driftwood, bobbing on the surface, going with the currents and winds? Is there more that I can and should grasp before I drown?
Yes! We were and are pearls for Divinity’s heart. My prayer is your prayer. “Father, glorify me with your very own splendor, the very splendor I had in your presence[/thoughts] before there was a world.” (John 17.5) Let me take the one step in this moment holding your [God’s] hand.
It is this simple.
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