"Morons" indeed

I could not help but note the irony of my last post, even as I posted. "Morons" indeed, followed by the prayer of St. Francis of Assisi! I am certainly having trouble picturing St. Francis, instrument of peace, calling people morons. :-)

We all have a darkness to us. But I don't think of it as the beast inside, needing to burst out. Rather, our peculiar stresses and pressures nurture it, and like a well tended weed, it grows. Which means we have to work at tending the seed of goodness planted in us as well.

It does not come as naturally. But it does come - I think of the places I feel like I encounter God; sometimes in the winter, when I am out cutting dead Oaks for firewood with my brother in law, I feel like I draw near to Him. In the still of the woods, with the Sun beating down, little avalanches of snow falling off the cedars and pines when we brush into them, God is there, revealed in His creation, and in one of the many ways He gives peace. It is different for everyone, but for me, peace is there, in the woods.

I went for a walk tonight, to pick up my daughter from Girl Guides. I found a way to take that went into a bulldozed field. All over the field were Killdeer. You can tell them by their high pitched sound. They are a funny bird; they live mostly on land, but have webbed feet, and red eyes like Loons. In fact, they are closely related to Loons, and go back to ancient times.

Consider a scenario: a lake in Northern Canada, in the early fall. The golden sun is setting, and a herd of Edmontosauruses, large plant eating dinosaurs is doing a last little bit of twilight grazing in a field of sedges and thorns at the edge of the lake. A sing-song call, like an expertly played flute, splits the dry, chilled air - a loon.

They were around that long ago. When I think that there have been quietly growing forests like the ones my brother in law and I go out in for so long, I realize how patient God is. He is like the artist who is in no rush to complete the canvas - the picture is so close to what He wants, and is already stunningly perfect to any onlooker watching the master work; and yet He still takes His time bringing it to completion.

That is an artist truly at peace. And in trying to understand the artist, I share in the peace He so freely gives, if only for a moment.