31 Days in which I Am Saved by Beauty

I’ve been thinking a lot about contrasts lately.

Light and dark,

small and large,

near and far.

And about how so many of those things that we

tend to put into opposition to one another

are not all that opposed after all.

Both things are true,

both sides are instructive,

both realities are beautiful,

each in their own way.

Last summer, I spent two weeks

looking at this view.

Here is the view on a sunny day –

with all the colors popping,

the architectural details sharp,

distinct,

easy to follow,

the palm trees leading your eye out to the horizon.

If you look closely at the wing of the building

that was just outside my window,

you can see that the right side of the roof

looks a slightly different color from the left.

It doesn’t seem dramatic, does it?

Now – here are some similar views,

taken on a foggy morning.

The colors blend a bit more,

nothing stands out,

even the lines of the building

are fuzzier, the trees

fade away into the fog.

There is no horizon to be found.

In the cool of that foggy morning,

I began to see that the two sides

of that roof were quite different from one another.

I am facing due south in this picture,

so the westside of the building is the darker one.

I was intrigued by this and began to draw in

a little bit closer.

The fog was beginning to lift as

I screwed on the telephoto lens,

and this is what I began to see.

An astounding display of lichen,
moss, multi-colored plant life,
clinging like crazy-colored barnacles
to the terra cotta tiles

I found them stunningly beautiful,
especially in contrast to the rich red
of the roof; I was
fascinated by
these green and gray polka dots,
scrambling wildly down the rows.

I would not have seen them at all
if the fog had not rolled in,
forcing me
to take my eye off the horizon,
to stop taking the long view,
and instead,
to pay attention
to what was right in front of my face.

I have spent much of my life searching
toward that horizon,
thinking and dreaming about
what was to come.
One of my major regrets
is that I did not fully appreciate
what was
right in front of my face
while I was living it.

I got better at it over time,
thank God.
But how I wish I had
celebrated the glory
of the single moment
just a bit more,
especially when my
children were small
and I was tired all.the.time.

I take some comfort from the disciples.

They weren’t able to see what was

right in front of them, either.

Yet even they,

with their stubbornness,

their denseness,

their projection of their

particular hopes and dreams,

hopes and dreams

that were so far from God’s best

as to be laughable at times –

even they got to see the other side.

Jesus came to them,

in his new,

resurrected body,

and he stood before them,

greeted them gently,

offered them peace

and then sent them out

to change the world.

The truth is, both sides,

both views

are important.

The long view,

and the close-up one.

And both views contain truth,

big truths – long-term goals,

aspirations, dreams –

and small truths –

the glories of

the immediate,

the blessings of now.

Somehow, I don’t think the world

can truly be changed

without some experience

of holding-both-sides-together.

Because our world needs both:

the healing presence and comfort

of the Jesus

who comes and cups our faces

and says, “Peace be with you,”

and the powerful creative energy

of the Cosmic Christ,

in “whom all things hold together,”

who wants to make all things new,

including every one of us.

So, even though I’m not a foggy weather

kind of person,

I will celebrate and appreciate

those days when they come.

In fact, I will seek them out,

looking always for

Jesus

right in front of my face.

Comments

cherylsmith says

October 11, 2012 at 1:49 am

You chronicle beauty here, in your words and your images. The beauty of you bleeds right onto my screen.
Glenda Childers says

October 11, 2012 at 2:42 am

I love seeing things through the eye of your camera and your brain.
pastordt says

October 11, 2012 at 4:05 am

Thanks so much for these oh-so-gracious words, Cheryl. You are so kind.
pastordt says

October 11, 2012 at 4:05 am

Awww….thank you, Glenda. You say the nicest things. :>)
pastordt says

October 11, 2012 at 6:07 am

Awww…thank you, Glenda. You are so kind.
pastordt says

October 11, 2012 at 6:07 am

Thanks so much for these generous words, Cheryl. They brought tears to my eyes.
Diane Bailey says

October 11, 2012 at 11:44 am

You have an outstanding about of wisdom and observation here! Thank you for sharing about looking at Christ, right up close, and being able to look from afar
Megan Willome says

October 11, 2012 at 10:13 pm

Only you would see beauty in lichen.

Also, I love that particular Jesus.