Monday Morning Musing: Life and Beyond

Last week I wrote about my dear friend Mary. This week, as I've unpacked boxes (and boxes and boxes) I've discovered anew treasures she sent - cards for so many occasions, little notes of sweetness with goodies tucked inside - handmade butterflies and flowers. In the middle of the night last night I was awakened suddenly with the song/hymn "All Things Bright and Beautiful" running through my heart and mind.

All things bright and beautiful, all creatures great and small. All things wise and wonderful, the Lord God made them all.

Bright. Beautiful. Wise. Wonderful. This was Mary.

In worship this morning, the bell choir prelude was, remarkably, All Things Bright and Beautiful. Hello dear Mary, Queen of the Butterflies.

Yesterday the world learned of the death of the actor Matthew Perry, which, is sad because we felt like we knew him from his acting, when in fact, we didn't know him at all. Just his characters. Still, so young to die. And this is a world with wars old and new and images of death served up daily. Then today I learned of another death of a young man, the spouse of one of my former interns. A lovely person with a dream of writing a book.

Our confirmand today at church chose Romans 14:8 for her confirmation verse "If we live we live for the Lord and if we die we die for the Lord. So, whether we live or whether we die, we belong to the Lord." In other words, we are God's in our living and in our dying.

I've turned to the poet David Whyte, whose volume The House of Belonging contains some of his most beautiful work. For this night, when the moon has begun to lessen slightly and death and life seem very near and present, I offer it for the bright, the beautiful, the wise, the wonderful.

The Journey

Above the mountains

the geese turn into

the light again

Painting their

black silhouettes

on an open sky.

Sometimes everything

has to be

inscribed across

the heavens

so you can find

the one line

already written

inside you.

Sometimes it takes

a great sky

to find that

first, bright

and indescribable

wedge of freedom

in your own heart.

Sometimes with

the bones of the black

sticks left when the fire

has gone out

someone has written

something new

in the ashes of your life.

You are not leaving.

Even as the light fades quickly now,

you are arriving.

There are any number of videos out there of choirs singing a rendition of All Things Bright and Beautiful. John Rutter has a lovely tune to the text. But I've posted this from the BBC because, oh, well, if you know me, you'll know why.....enjoy, dear Ones.