The Lover

There was a Lover who created a garden.
Perfection displayed in brilliance.
To the trees He said, “Bear fruit of many kinds, for my Bride is coming, and she will need nourished.”
To the ground He said, “Bring forth vegetables to sustain her, and satisfy her hunger.”
To each plant He said, “Bring forth vitality, to protect and heal her sickness and ailment. She will find healing in you when complication may arise, and where I destine that you cannot heal her, I will renew her body.”
Then, He created and brought forth animals to be companion and friend, for cheer and play.
He looked in awe of the splendor of His hands and said, “All is ready, and it is good.”
Finally, crafting with His own hands, He formed the Glory of His Creation, His Bride, to live in the Garden He had prepared.
Together they communed in peace and happiness. The Lover had never been so full of joy….
But soon, the Bride was deceived by a great Enemy and cast out.
The Lover, broken and filled with sorrow watched as His Beloved drifted farther and farther from Him.
To the trees her offspring said, “Your fruit is too sweet and not good for our bodies, we will not consume it.” And they limited their children from it as well.
To the vegetables they said, “You are too high in starches, and the rest of you are meager. We do not wish to consume you, either.”
Turning to the beasts given by the Lover to be companions, they ate of their flesh and drank of their milk, abusing them to satisfy their thirsts and hunger.
When they became sick, and forced sickness on each other, they trampled down the plants the Lover had crafted, and said, “We will grind the rocks instead.” Pulling from mines and refining chemicals, using the waste from different sources-even from the dead, saying “surely these will heal us!” These did not heal their sickness, and made them worse. They dug for more stones and strained through more waste, and more of the dead, to find their cures.

The Lover watched as His Bride trampled down the beauty He had given them, overcome with sorrow and anger. He sent floods to wash out their crops, frost to ruin their trees, fires to burn their vineyards, storms to display His glory – but His Bride made excuses, “It is us, we have done this, our hands are causing this to happen.” Some yet said they themselves had managed to create these disasters to destroy each other.

So few turned to Him, delighting in His gifts.
To those who did He blessed them with health and peace, for they looked to Him and said, “Your Creation is enough for Me, and I will Delight in you, all of my days. I will eat and make use of your Garden. For you created the world in Perfection and I praise you for providing for My needs, and designing them by hand to prepare a place for Us, before you even made us.”

Shadows of Gray

The world is different through my eyes

Where you see sunlight filtered through clouds, I see every shade of yellow and gray.  You see relief from the glare, I see magic being birthed.

When you see a panhandler with his sign on a corner, you see incompetence and addiction.  I see a broken, humiliated man with a story to tell.

When you see the rain falling on the road, you grumble at getting wet or watching drivers overreact.  I see the glint of light and allow the sound of rain to soothe my soul.

Where there is darkness in the forest you fear for ghosts.  I watch for faeries to appear.

When mountain peaks are washed in golden sunlight, you see majesty, but I see nature communicating as the mountain thanks the sun for its warmth.

When you stare out at the ocean, you see its surface beauty.  But I hear the souls of the world calling out across the distance, and delight in the ancient waters that have circled the entire globe.  Ireland kisses my feet.  The waters the Messiah crossed have evaporated, gathered in the sky, and fallen in tempests on the ocean.  Pilgrims crossed the waters.  Wayfinders journeyed across the waters, using the stars to guide them.

When you complain about the sand that gets in and on everything, I see millions of shells that have been worn down and deposited safely on the shore to rest.

Where you see the desert, I see a sea of glass waiting to happen.

People are sad and depressed.  You see another person who “doesn’t get it”, and I see heartache, desperation, desire to be more than this– and survival.

Perspective is a flip of a switch.

We all have different vantage points.

Mine invites you to see the world in different colors, when all most see is shadows of gray.