Friday, March 14, 2014

One coin in her pocket

“I am well answered,” replied the scribe. “You are absolutely right when you say that there is one God and no other God exists but him; and to love Him with the whole of our hearts, the whole of our intelligence and the whole of our energy, and to love our neighbours as ourselves is infinitely more important than all these burnt-offerings and sacrifices.” Then Jesus, noting the thoughtfulness of his reply, said to him, “You are not far from the kingdom of God!” After this nobody felt like asking him any more questions. Mark 12:32-34

All the arguing and asking and approaching with a mean-spiritedness agenda stuff simply leaves me with a sad weariness. And it occurred to me as I mulled over Life yesterday moving through the routine of Speedway Boulevard and parking lots and taking attendance and hot lunch orders that this same weariness overshadowed the life of Jesus. Hostile verbal jousts, milling hungry crowds, friends asking about seating arrangements and lots and lots of traveling along dusty roads. No wonder He slept hard.

And He arose while it was still dark, to seek the solace of His Father and The Comforter.

Cameron was asking the other day the meaning of “Quitcher bellyaching.” And I don’t think it means to work a little bit faster and a little bit smarter, and to glue on a brighter smile and life might turn out okay.

Although some of the students wept at the death of Boxer, the dutiful workhorse in Animal Farm, the one who got up earlier the more messed up things got, because “It must be due to some fault in ourselves. The solution, as I see it, is to work harder."

The point of rising while it is still dark is not to work, but to rest. 

To sit at Your feet. 
Wanna stare into Your eyes 
And see the love You have for me. 
Put my head upon Your shoulders 
And feel the love You have for me.

“Quitcher bellyaching” is more about not focusing on small hot blisters or the weight of the shoulder straps, but rather the sweeping vistas and fresh air as I clamber through life. And I can look at my boot toes and count the strides, “One, two, three, four, five” (one doesn’t get as tired if one count by odds) or. Or I can lift my eyes upward and smile at the bush poppies and suck on sour manzanita berries and breathe in the damp creosote. Breathe in, breathe out.

And notice the thoughtfulness of a reply. And smile an encouragement.

You will have trouble in this life but take heart! I have overcome the world.