Friday, September 23, 2016

Every common bush afire with God.

The LORD is near to those who call upon him, to all who call upon him faithfully. He fulfills the desire of those who fear him; he hears their cry and helps them. Psalm 145:19–20
Spiritual joy has nothing to do with anything “going right.” It has everything to do with things going, and going on within you. It’s an inherent, inner aliveness. Joy is almost entirely an inside job. Joy is not first determined by the object enjoyed as much as by the prepared eye of the enjoyer.
You don’t have to be a priest on the altar or a preacher in a pulpit, that’s for sure. You can be a homemaker in a grocery store or a construction worker at a work site; it doesn’t matter. It’s all inherently sacred and deeply satisfying. As the nineteenth-century poet Elizabeth Barrett Browning put it, “Earth’s crammed with heaven, and every common bush afire with God.”  -Richard Rohr
So dear Lord, as I head out to my construction site, building dry ice lab conclusions and forming background research papers with MLA Works Cited and crafting propaganda posters with fourteen-year-olds, let me see the bushes blaze with You, see You in each one of these faces.
I am oh so weary, and those 14 Points and Treaty of Versailles compare/contrast essays await.
May I see. May Your Light fill my heart and chase away whatever darkness might be lurking.
Nicole is taking her bike over the Italian alps and her photos are full of light.

I love you, O LORD my strength, O LORD my stronghold, my crag, and my haven. Psalm 18:1
Every common bush afire with God.
Since last night was sleepover night, Everette and I drove home this morning singing out loud with Uncle Cameron, “My heart is yours, my heart is yours, my heart is yours in the morning.”
And there are lots of common bushes wandering around downtown in the early morning hours, mostly with large black plastic bags holding all of their earthly possessions. But some of the have two smaller bags, like with a big red Target on them. And most of them are pretty skinny and reframe my whole understanding of “so weary” with shame.
And there is a lot of road construction going on downtown too, as they put in yet another high rise hotel and yet many more hipster condos, and a still-blinking but smashed roadside sign lay in the middle of the intersection. And a guy with not only tattoos crawling all the way up his neck but landing in the middle of his forehead ran out into the ongoing traffic and dragged it out of the way.
A bush afire. Crammed with heaven.
I always try and see grown-ups, especially the more tattered ones,  as middle school students because that is an immediate entrance into tenderness for me. I really get how hard it is, and we are all trying to just make it through another day.
May I see.

That I might go forth and shine, overflowing with Your joy.
Every common bush afire with God.