Recently one morning I looked out my window and saw a magnificent drama
arise out of the night's heavy deposit of dew. Misty droplets on the
tree branches had transformed into miniature prisms reflecting the
rising sun's rays. The tiny droplets flickered in an ever changing array
of colors. I stood there, mesmerized by the beauty of the twinkling
sparkles of light.
Suddenly I felt no need to press on toward the
day's duties. It was a sacred moment - a moment to stand still, or
rather, to be still. As I reflect on this experience, I realize how we
can become so conditioned to speed on through daily life that we forget
how to stand still, I mean, be still - still enough to cherish the
blessings in the moment.
When our life becomes mostly about where
we are headed next, we are in danger of never living fully and truly. We
are constantly trying to live in what does not yet exist. But while we
are speeding ahead in the fast lane we can never enjoy the subtle
blessings immediately before us - such as the flickering sparkles in the
tree.
It is God himself who gave us the expressions of beauty,
and He has given us the capacity to enjoy them - for our benefit. We
harm ourselves when we push ahead day after day, pressed down by heavy
and burdensome loads, and blinded to what's around us. Such
self-flagellation is never a way we honour God's gifts of grace. But it
is a constant temptation. Thankfully God has provided countless release
valves every day - escape hatches through which we can be revived in
our inner being.
This may seem too simplistic, not spiritual
enough. It may seem selfish or demeaning to our high calling. But, in
actuality, when we receive God's miniature gifts with thanksgiving and
joy, we honor Him as our provider and as Creator. It is a way we love
God. It is also a way we take care of our bodies and minds. And that is
not evil! During his tortuous imprisonment and persecution Richard
Wurmbrand found refreshment watching a spider.
By nurturing our
capacity to be still, to reflect on the small gifts in life, we also
become fit for our calling to love others. As we learn to be still in
our minds we become able to sense what's happening with others - their
own quiet heart-beat - their joys, aspirations, and fears. And then we
can respond in love for who they are in that moment.
Who would
think that the Great Commandment - the grand sum of all of God's laws:
to love God, others, and ourselves, involves such elementary "duties" as
enjoying a spider or a water droplet?
May this be our prayer:
Lord, teach me to be still that I might be refreshed and revived by Your
blessings.
Diane Eaton