Pretending to blend in at the Herridge's ranch over Thanksgiving 2008.
Sharing a moment and a snack at the wildlife ranch in September 2008
Loving on Rascal in the summer of 2008.
When I was young, we lived in Canada. It was by all practical purposes the idyllic childhood. Neighbors knew neighbors, enough to swap presents during the holidays so kids couldn't go nosing through the house and ruin the Christmas morning surprise, enough to bless each other's meals with fresh picks from the garden, enough to hose down the entire backyard in winter so all of the kids on the street could have their very own skating rink, enough to genuinely watch out for one another and one another's children.
My love of the outdoors was born in that world I grew up in. I think back to those days and all sorts of images flash through my mind's eye: raking leaves and then playing for hours in the endless, brilliant piles of red and orange and yellow maple leaves, daring to go down to the ravine after school and walk across the fallen log in the rushing creek thus transporting ourselves to the land of terabithia, climbing up to nest in the weeping willow in the park to daydream with one of my best friends, cross-country skiing treks with my family deep in the silent white woods, swimming in the quarry in our town - larger than a young imagination could hold, an unknown depth, cold and dark.
As I have read about Celtic spirituality and their views on creation, I've thought back to my childhood and the many amazing encounters I've had since then in this world that God made. All the places I have traveled, the many different landscapes I've been witness to. And I have thought about Grant, even at his young age, being so in love and curious about every animal he meets and feeling so at home when outside.
I sat down tonight with the intention of summarizing the main tenets of Celtic beliefs about creation. But for some reason, I grew mindful instead. It's all coming together. All of the words I keep reading. "It is not as if creation somehow exists independently from God, the impression we have received too often from a mechanistic world view, and that God only periodically chooses to express himself through it. That would be to say that God is like an artist who has made a violin he only occasionally plays. The rising of the sun each morning is the expression of God, as is the beauty of the moon at night." I can see why the Celts have such a high regard for creation - because it endlessly shouts and whispers and wildly points towards a God who is brilliant, imaginative, attentive, thoughtful, nurturing, fierce, uncontainable, and the list never ends. In all my experiences, and in the stories I read in the Bible, nature always bears testimony to the truth of God.
So, consider this post as a warm-up. I needed it before I could progress. I'll get around to my original intention soon, but in the meantime, I'll end with an evening prayer. Celts believe there is always something to learn from the world around us. See if you can pick up on that belief as expressed in this prayer:
My love of the outdoors was born in that world I grew up in. I think back to those days and all sorts of images flash through my mind's eye: raking leaves and then playing for hours in the endless, brilliant piles of red and orange and yellow maple leaves, daring to go down to the ravine after school and walk across the fallen log in the rushing creek thus transporting ourselves to the land of terabithia, climbing up to nest in the weeping willow in the park to daydream with one of my best friends, cross-country skiing treks with my family deep in the silent white woods, swimming in the quarry in our town - larger than a young imagination could hold, an unknown depth, cold and dark.
As I have read about Celtic spirituality and their views on creation, I've thought back to my childhood and the many amazing encounters I've had since then in this world that God made. All the places I have traveled, the many different landscapes I've been witness to. And I have thought about Grant, even at his young age, being so in love and curious about every animal he meets and feeling so at home when outside.
I sat down tonight with the intention of summarizing the main tenets of Celtic beliefs about creation. But for some reason, I grew mindful instead. It's all coming together. All of the words I keep reading. "It is not as if creation somehow exists independently from God, the impression we have received too often from a mechanistic world view, and that God only periodically chooses to express himself through it. That would be to say that God is like an artist who has made a violin he only occasionally plays. The rising of the sun each morning is the expression of God, as is the beauty of the moon at night." I can see why the Celts have such a high regard for creation - because it endlessly shouts and whispers and wildly points towards a God who is brilliant, imaginative, attentive, thoughtful, nurturing, fierce, uncontainable, and the list never ends. In all my experiences, and in the stories I read in the Bible, nature always bears testimony to the truth of God.
So, consider this post as a warm-up. I needed it before I could progress. I'll get around to my original intention soon, but in the meantime, I'll end with an evening prayer. Celts believe there is always something to learn from the world around us. See if you can pick up on that belief as expressed in this prayer:
Glory be to you, O God of the night,
for the whiteness of the moon
and the infinite stretches of dark space.
Let me be learning to love the night
as I know and love the day.
Let me be learning to trust its darkness
and to seek its subtle blessings.
Let me be learning the night's way of seeing
that in all things I may trace the mystery of your presence.
for the whiteness of the moon
and the infinite stretches of dark space.
Let me be learning to love the night
as I know and love the day.
Let me be learning to trust its darkness
and to seek its subtle blessings.
Let me be learning the night's way of seeing
that in all things I may trace the mystery of your presence.
1 comment:
Yes! There are so many things I love about this post. 1) I played terabithia too! In my friend's backyard. 2) I've always wanted to go cross-country skiing or snowshoeing. 3) Loving your thoughts on creation and how everything echoes the voice of God. I'm seeing that more and more lately too. I can't wait to keep reading your thoughts on this...
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