So many miracles. Just outside the door my chimes catch a breeze and the wind pushes the weathered and mellow sounding wooden center into six long aluminum tubes. From what I can discern the intonation rings a clear C, B flat, G, and D with an octave somewhere. Because one cannot predict the movement of the wind each day is a different concert (or no concert at all). Just like the clouds as they pass or the sun as it sheds its light creating a mix of colorful sky. When the symphonic wind hits my chimes they ring out resonating low tones as they catch something unseen. The wind invisible creates music. It beautifies the unknown. Atop the wooden center is still another miracle. White, crisp snowflakes catch a ride and sway to the music. Light catching light. Resonating and resounding a "joy unspeakable and full of glory." (New Testament epistle, 1Peter 1:8)
I don't want to forget these reminders. Heavenly heralds. Simplest expressions. Joy in this love unending.
During the holiday pressures of my job came such expressions. Into the stuffy retail world of the mall a few children passed through who brought the joy I so needed to remember. One day a little girl, maybe six years old, showed me her iPad. She made me a virtual-reality ice-cream sundae complete with chocolate syrup, sprinkles, and cherry on top while her dad sought an "upgrade" for his wife's diamond. In that stuffy commercial world I often ask, what is real? What do I really want? The love shared between a child and her dad seemed to reflect something real. And husband looking to please his wife seemed to resound a sweetness. And what of this child to stranger attention? I felt as though I caught something unseen there in those interactions. Simplest expressions. Momentary kindnesses. All reflections of a love unending.
Another quick reminder came when a little boy laid his head on the counter-top. Weary of shopping. Weary of wondering if Christmas was of any significance to him. He tilted his to one side and sang "All I want for Christmas is my two front teeth..." His innocent voice mingled amidst the mulled holiday muzak. It was suddenly easy to see what was real in this quick comparison. The boy longed for rest. His joy in the season's celebration as well as curiosity about its authenticity created a glimpse of reality and reminder of the mystery of God's goodness.
Then too, one early evening, a wooden nutcracker, reminiscent of the toy maker's gift to Clara in Tchaikovsky's ballet was laid gently, yet resolutely upon the countertop. I looked up to see a young girl. Head barely over the counter. Extra long lashes, rosey cheeks, all made up with long hair pulled back away from her face. Looking up I saw she was surrounded by mom and sisters. She had just danced her first Nutcracker ballet and came in to commemorate the occasion. Maybe mom remembered where to find it and so brought her little dancer in to happily chose her favorite. All of that energy, planning and practice spent to remember....remember...remember.
Celebrate.
Remember.
Celebrate....dance....then remember some more.
Joy in a love unending.
Speaking of children and hope filled reflections, I want to share a good book find! Sleep Like A Tiger, by Mary Logue, with gorgeous, otherworldly illustrations by Pamela Zagarenski, is remarkably wonderful! Lately, I've been visiting the children's library quite frequently and have asked if I can volunteer read. Supposedly, they might be calling me for Book Week. Having worked for eight years as an elementary school media associate I'm familiar with story time and SO long to read to children again! I'm hoping to find an opportunity to be involved with reading programs that assist children in their reading. It's not only the imagination captured in picture books that intrigues me, but also watching and enjoying the faces of those being read to. A story pulls us in and makes us wonder. We begin to understand more about ourselves as well as creation around us. Perhaps that brief expression and moment of wonder is another reflection of glory. The unseen becoming visible again. The joy unending that can fill our hearts.
