So, I really ought to be writing this post over on my lupus blog.
Except, I don't want to write about being sick.
The sunshine in this house is quite remarkable.
The other day I took a hiatus from my bedroom and wandered down to the family room in the late afternoon. Jumbled circles of golden light bounced against the closed blinds over the doors to the deck, teasing to get in. I padded down two steps, across the floor. Quiet in my pajamas, I stood by the blinds watching the light play for a moment, then turned the rod to open the slats.
Brightness flooded the room. I could have focused on the deck, which sorely needs sweeping, but I chose to gaze beyond, through the foliage. Trees grow along the swale that is sometimes almost a stream running down to the lake. We have a maple and some pines, while our neighbor, across the swale, has a lovely weeping willow. Willow fronds dangled and danced, dappled and dappling, all interspersed with slanted light shining through. Across nearby plains and cornfields, wind flies fierce, but trees and rolling terrain in our neighborhood restrain and tame the gales. Gusts still whirl, of course, but not as ferociously. I watched a group of willow fronds tossed back and forth in the breeze. Jungle-like, yet quintessentially Midwestern, luminescent yellow-green foliage swinging loose and free, sparkling.
There are so many things I want to write about, but the ideas get tangled up in too many words. I want to write about being present, about reality, about not living a virtual life, not worshiping images of things. I want to write about how the Sabbath year for cancelling debts and the year of Jubilee (Leviticus 25, Deuteronomy 15) demonstrate the same principle as the parable of the Laborers in the Vineyard (Matthew 20:1-16). But I don't have the words for it. Or rather, I have too many. So I skip to the punch: Truth illuminated. Unmerited favor. Grace.
Grace. Light. Beauty.
Dear Lord Jesus, please shed your grace on us.
Show us the light, the beauty that is You,
the wonder of Truth, the gift of Wisdom.
Here are a few pictures I took today,
trying to capture the beauty of light,
and one picture Shawn took
with quite a remarkable capture of light.
Please look for the light.
Sunshine on a sunporch
(I thought I was better today, so I dressed and tried to go out,
but I landed back at home in comfy fleece lounge pants,
with my Bible and my dog.)
He has made everything beautiful in its time.
He has also set eternity in the hearts of men;
yet they cannot fathom what God has done
from beginning to end.