I live a quiet life in a quiet place. There are many experiences not on my bucket list that I’m simply content to just imagine.
I’m not a rock climber or a zip liner or willing to jump out of an airplane. I won’t ride a horse over a four foot jump or race one around a track. Not for me waterskis or unicycles or motorcycles.
I’m grateful there are adventurers who seek out the extremes of life so the rest of us can admire their courage and applaud their explorations.
My imagination is powerful enough, thanks to the words and pictures of others – sometimes too vivid. I contentedly explore the corners of my quiet places, both inside and outside, to see what I can build from what’s here.
When the light is right, what I see in my mind is ready to spring right out of the frame.
Then Jesus told him, “Because you have seen me, you have believed; blessed are those who have not seen and yet have believed.” John 20:29
Why worry about the loaves and fishes? If you say the right words, the wine expands. If you say them with love and the felt ferocity of that love and the felt necessity of that love, the fish explode into many. Imagine him, speaking, and don’t worry about what is reality, or what is plain, or what is mysterious. If you were there, it was all those things. If you can imagine it, it is all those things. Eat, drink, be happy. Accept the miracle. Accept, too, each spoken word spoken with love. Mary Oliver – “Logos”
Many reject him because they weren’t there-
how can they know
what was real without seeing and hearing him
with their own eyes and ears.
We read his words
and think about
how his voice sounded
in a crowd
of 5000 people so hungry,
and how his eyes teared
as he was betrayed
We weren’t in the garden
that day when he was mistaken
for the gardener
nor were we on the road to Emmaus
walking beside a stranger whose words
made our hearts burn within us
but we can imagine hearing our name spoken
and knowing it is him
or watching him break the bread
and recognizing his body.
We weren’t there
but we didn’t have to be.
If we can imagine what His Logos tells us,
it is plain and real,
a mystery of the heart
all of these things
all of these things
all these things
and so much more
I believe there are some debts That we never can repay I believe there are some words That you can never unsay And I don’t know a single soul Who didn’t get lost along the wayI believe in socks and gloves Knit out of soft grey wool And that there’s a place in heaven for those Who teach in public school And I know I get some things right But mostly I’m a foolChorus I believe in a good strong cup of ginger tea And all these shoots and roots will become a tree All I know is I can’t help but see All of this as so very holy
I believe in jars of jelly Put up by careful hands I believe most folks are doing About the best they can And I know there are some things That I will never understand
Chorus I believe there’s healing in the sound of your voice And that a summer tomato is a cause to rejoice And that following a song was never really a choice Never really
I believe in a good long letter written on real paper and with real pen I believe in the ones I love and know I’ll never see again I believe in the kindness of strangers and the comfort of old friends And when I close my eyes to sleep at night it’s good to say “Amen”
I believe that life’s comprised of smiles and sniffles and tears And in an old coat that still has another good year Ball I need is here
Chorus I believe in a good strong cup of ginger tea And all these shoots and roots will become a tree All I know is I can’t help but see All of this as so very holy
Last night the rain spoke to me slowly, saying, what joy to come falling out of the brisk cloud, to be happy again in a new way on the earth! That’s what it said as it dropped, smelling of iron, and vanished like a dream of the ocean into the branches and the grass below. Then it was over. The sky cleared. I was standing under a tree. The tree was a tree with happy leaves, and I was myself, and there were stars in the sky that were also themselves at the moment at which moment my right hand was holding my left hand which was holding the tree which was filled with stars and the soft rain – imagine! imagine! the long and wondrous journeys still to be ours. ~Mary Oliver