With Chicken Wings

It was the anniversary of my Dad’s death; he died in 1999 having lived 96 full and beautiful years. For most of the day I smelled incense; scientists say that scent is a powerful memory inducer. I began to stare out my window, thinking of Dad, when I saw...


A flock of birds atop a tree outside my window
they obviously like being together.

They cling to one another visiting, singing, or at times, flitting to a higher branch.
No one bumps into another: they like togetherness, yet they yearn for the freedom of flight.

As a small boy, my Dad had that yearning, too.

With chicken wings tied to his thin shoulders, he climbed the chicken shed and flew down!

He didn’t do well on that flight!

But I love him for the longing in his childhood heart
to soar!

It must be genetic, for I, too, want to fly!
Mine, desires of the heart - but with a heavy body!

Does it make too much of a difference, Lord?

Here I come. . .

A Longing of the Universe

Gerald May has these provocative words to share:


“If a person feels a longing to be at one with the universe,

it is as if the universe feels the same longing to be one with the person.

If I sense a great aching in my heart to be in love with God,

it seems that God must in some mysterious way share that aching with me.”

Relationship. That’s what living is all about: mutual, reverent, open, caring relationships with the universe and the God of the universe. And what is so helpful is to know we are not alone in our longings to love and to be loved. As we touch another with a hand, a smile, a word, an aching desire, there is that other extended hand, returned smile, response or aching desire ready to create a relationship! Whom will you touch today?

Psalm 65

This morning we stood in choir and prayed Psalm 65 about the lavishness of God’s gifts upon our earth:



“People everywhere

Stand amazed at what you do;

East and west shout for joy. . . .

With soft’ning rain

You bless the land with growth. . . .

All You touch comes alive:

Untilled lands yield crops,

Hills are dressed in joy.

Flocks clothe the pastures,

Valleys wrap themselves in grain.

They all shout for joy

And break into song.”

 

Now that’s something to sing about, year after year, while the earth lasts and we are here to read the poetry of our land! Can we hear the song of creation? The joy of the hills and valleys wrapped in grain? The blessings poured out on our land? Lord God, give us new eyes and good ears so that we can join the people everywhere who stand amazed at what you do!