Lead in the Sculptor's Hand

Knowing God and being an artist is often like seeing a morning forest and having only a bit of lead to work with.   

Cades Cove with Betty, Cora and Oliver.

Barefoot at the Window

I have quietly returned to my window in our college dorm and to its opening to the morning world, a slight peek into the wonder of the earth.  The earth never seems to release me from seeking solace in his beauty, a game of hide and seek for love of the game.  Beauty is the playmate.  Such a friend, always patiently waiting barefoot on the porch stoop to see if I will come out and play.  He’s a plump friend, overfilled, always willing to play at my aging pace, his abundance never allows hurry; he’s best suited for meandering.  At the window this morning, I again read his invitation;

Earth’s crammed with heaven,

And every common bush afire with God:

But only he who sees, takes off his shoes;

The rest sit round it, and pluck blackberries,

And daub their natural faces unaware

More and more, from the first similitude.

Elizabeth Barrett Browning, 

Aurora Leigh      

Truly a Dear Girl!

We left our beloved Fair Haven yesterday.  Scrubbed her top to bottom, buttoned up the hatches, tucked away all the loose ends, packed up two months of life sustenance, locked the gates and drove to Jackson.  I always feel as if I am leaving a loved one to fend for herself, no warm fires, no opening of doors, no making the bed or cooking good food, just a long silence as the sun moves the shadows across her floor and the night leaves her dark and hushed.  There is no merry making, no joy of the quiet or praise for the wildness, the acknowledging of every abounding beauty but now only a silent yearning for her two lovers to return.  Foolish fantasy you might think!  But what we have been loaned is a window into the wild earth as it lives, breathes and abounds, a friend that sits quietly as we marvel at God’s goodness in the fallen rawness of Eden past but here a prologue to Eden Coming—truly a dear girl; our loaned Fair Haven.   

  

Life’s Greatest Adventure is a Search

For months Betty and I have been extremely busy.  Tuesday Betty had gotten us off the road and tucked into a tiny cabin away off in the Appalachians.  Yesterday we went hiking and the winter trail, following a mountain stream, left us alone in the woods.  In time we stopped and setting on a small boulder beside the stream we had a small picnic, an orange, a few bites of beef, and good cheese.  There was no sign of humanity.  The earth seemed perfectly in order, the forest winter-bare, boulders, stones, and pebbles all rounded smooth and grey creating borders for the cold stream which rushed white here, lay cold dark there, and curled away in both directions snuggling itself into the Great Smoky Mountains.  Perfection is a great treasure and rarely sought out.  It requires work; but when it is offered great effort should be expended to behold it.  “And you will seek Me and find Me when you search for Me with all your heart.”  All of life, every moment, can be the greatest adventure if you know what or better still, Who you are searching for.   

 

91 Million Miles For A Picnic Gift

Betty and I sat in the cold woods yesterday, out on the point facing westward.  A big blow several weeks ago had taken down several of the trees in our forest and three of them had fallen across our sculpture trail.  We had cleared the trail and had stopped for lunch, oranges, crackers, and cold water.  Betty told me as she had walked through the woods she was silently praising God for our beautiful place and began to hold her gloved hands out in humble worship.  “When I did the sun heated up the dark blue of the palms of my gloves and warmed my hands!” she exclaimed.  We sat silently in the cold woods, the three of us, facing westward in joy.    

trees down

our picnic spot

The New NONES

A lot has been written about the “New None’s”, those individuals who check “None” when the government askes for “religious preference”.  No human is a None.  That is profanity.  This is perhaps the most thoughtless mistake the government has ever made.  None is zero.  None means nothingness.  None means without anything.  It is a word invented by soulless bureaucracies that underscore its soul-less nature.  A better word would be “Wonderer”.  Every human being wonders about Religion, or the mystery of life and death, love and evil, souls and the other side.  It is why we build cathedrals, go to Mars, sing Free Bird and invent Google.  None is above all unkind!  And wonder—above all else—is—;       

KIND. 

A picture from Hubble, another religious
invention by humans Wonders!

Afib for life

The act of living is life-giving.  I am currently looking at rain clouds, black and ripe atop and thinly orange below, race over the top of the Appalachians—but in order to live—I have to look—to see.  But what am I hoping to see?  God Almighty!  In seeing Him, in the longing to see Him is the current by which I am brought to life to live as Him today.