Tuesday, April 29, 2008

Dearest God,

One of my most favorite things is to leave home on an excursion and find you where I land. It is not as though I have gone on a hunt for the sacred but I always find it. Or rather the truth is, it finds me.

For just a 24 hour getaway my husband and I came to Spring Mill State Park. I haven't been here for years. My hubby doesn't ever remember being here. He had already been on the road for nearly four hours when he stopped to pick me up.

Driving south we came upon some of the most exquisite, most beautiful pinks, purples, and whites. A colorful landscape of Redbud, Dogwood, and Bradford Pear, the drive was breathtaking. We kept saying to one another, "look over here, look there." When we turned into the inn driveway we were greeted by the delicate red, yellow and purple tulips standing tall, blowing in the breeze. Nature welcomed us in all her grandeur. Who could dismiss an opportunity to acknowledge the great majestic wisdom of the Sacred Creator?

Walking into our aged inn room we looked out the window, a picturesque scene of varied greens kissing the colorful blossoming trees. We put down our things and walked downstairs to the first floor. We found a corner to ourselves and we talked. When was the last time we talked without the phone, television, and newspaper? Oh my goodness, I can't remember when. Being a slave to the outer forces can rob a person of the personal.

We talked for quite a while, then went upstairs to eat dinner in the inn dining room. Sitting beside the window where a birdhouse stood, we watched the comings and goings of an array of birds, some with red necks, brown heads and black bodies, white bodies with black stripes along with the occasional doves. Pecking at the corn mallet we were mesmerized by their unique beauty and activity.

After dinner we decided to take a walk outside. Bundling up in our coats and Western hats, we walked out the front door and journeyed around the side to the back door where we came back inside because it was way too cold and we didn't have enough coat power to keep us warm. So we returned to the first floor. And what did we do? We played checkers and Scrabble. Harold beat me both times.

As we retired to our room I remembered all the reasons why I fell in love with this man. He is witty (although he drives me crazy sometimes). He has a wonderful smile. His eyes twinkle when he smiles at me. He's inquisitive. He loves to know about things from people to politics. (I put those in different categories because I love the one and hate the other.) He is interested in people. He wants to know all about them. Secretly he knows how to affirm people, even strangers when he talks with them. He is fun. When we play games with family, he is outrageous leading us all to laugh until we nearly fall off the couch. He's a great preacher, a bright leader, a lover of history, a family man. I like the way he holds my hand.

As I sit here alone on the first floor listening to Country Western music and watching the sun rise as I write, I realize just how much of God is everywhere. That may not be grammatically correct but you get the point. You are here and there and everywhere. I don't have to search for you. I just get to walk around inside you, listening to your heartbeat, watching you move toward your children. I hear you laugh and weep all at the same time. I see your artistry, know your work, am blown away by your spirit. Who would not want this kind of life?

Great Lover of Humankind,
do you hear
the applause
of your children?
Do you take joy
in our conscious awareness
of the Divine?
Do you find hope
in us
while we trudge
life's walkways
offering prayer
as we go?
Do you take
great delight
in your children
who discover you
and get so excited?
Receive the song
on our lips,
the joy
in our bellies,
the dance
of our feet,
the thanksgiving
on our minds,
the hope
in our hearts,
the sacred language
in our souls
and the love
in our spirits.
It's all yours.

Love, Andrea