Over the weekend, I just couldn’t be winter anymore. So, I left my spot at the coffee shop and found spring. I am done with looking out at the world from in, I decided, and sauntered through the streets in the bright sunlight of the day.
The mysterious healing power of a walk is beyond my comprehension. My busy mind stills as I move and I am blessed by the people I encounter.
In all the snow, I’ve had a great opportunity to pick up some books that I love but never finished. Particularly, a collection called Pilgrim Souls with memoir essays from Christian thinkers and writers all over the world.
The essay that most hit home was “Surprised by Joy” where C.S. Lewis gives us a lens into his childhood and how he experienced what he describes something deeper than pleasure–joy.
He gives us three moments in his life where he experiences the grace of joy–Lewis describes one of these experiences as being child standing under a currant bush and remembering earlier that morning when his brother had brought his toy garden into the nursery where they played. For no explicit reason, Lewis says he felt a “sensation” or an “Milton’s enormous bliss of Eden”…It was as though some longing that was fullfilled and “everything else that had ever happened to [him] was insignificant.”
I wonder as we reflect on our childhoods if we would be able to remember experiences of joy, an overwhelming feeling of…what the world will be some day. When have we felt Eden?
There was the red pepper at the bottom of the L’Arche fridge. I had just realized that I was cooking dinner for 20 instead of 10. And as I was struggling to find an extra dish to make, I found the red peppers. As I began to cut them up, I realized that the one red pepper was black on the bottom from rot. I cut it away and threw it in together with some whole wheat pasta, parsley, oregano, basil, white wine, some olive oil, and (secret ingredient!) V8; it made a delicious dish. Another day or so, and it would have been beyond use.
Then there was the next morning when I was going to make oatmeal. Our groceries had dwindled, and the only apple in sight was one that on the outside was of questionable quality. I was ready to reject it, but something stopped me. I decided to check it out, and as I cut it open, I saw that it only had a few bruises on the outside, but on the inside was a tasty, crisp, tart apple. I cooked it in some butter and brown sugar, and threw it in my oatmeal with raisins…for a taste of…goodness.
Finally as I was ending up meetings yesterday at L’Arche, I fished around the the fridge for some lettuce. At first sight, there appeared to be none. But as I dug deeper, I saw a bag of lettuce that looked like it might just be turning. I decided to give it a chance and poured it out into a bowl. As it turned out, the lettuce was just a day from going too bad.
There are so many places I can go from here, but I feel like having all this happen to me in the course of 24 hours weighs it on me a little more. God is teaching me something? Somewhere in the brokenness is beauty…
In all the snow, I’ve had a great opportunity to pick up some books that I love but never finished. Particularly, a collection called Pilgrim Souls with memoir essays from Christian thinkers and writers all over the world.