The Glorious All Too Real

 Last week (or maybe the week before) it was lizards. Today, a gas station. Jesus shows up in surprising ways.  We best be kind to all and accept the grace.  My nightmare this morning reminded me that when I struggle, I am struggling to reach my heart. I wonder why sometimes that journey seems so hard. Even in a brand new bright red pick-up that yes, was in my dream. Packed with too much stuff, it proved to be of no shiny help at all. Or perhaps ultimately it did. Regardless, this morning I shall walk. Thank you, Jesus.  

This is a beautiful poem.  

Gas Station Communion 

It was a little thing, really,

this offer to fill my tire.
I was unscrewing the valve cap
and heard a voice behind me.
‘Here, I’ll get that for you”

“Oh that’s ok, I’ve got it,” is what I
normally say to such overtures,
this knee-jerk reaction to refuse.
I am the one who offers to help,
I am the one who serves.

Perhaps it was the eager spirit
in his face or his brown eyes
full of hopeful connection that
caused me to say okay.

I felt the vibration of
his unspoken benediction:
I can’t do much for you,
fellow weary traveler,
but I can do this. Lay
your burden down and
I will carry it for a bit.

And I couldn’t help but wonder
how many times I have denied
someone the blessing of serving
because I have been too stubborn
to accept their gift.

As I was standing there in
the sun drenched gas station
parking lot, the hiss and tick of
the air pump sounded very much
like a psalm. I watched his hands
filling more than just my tire with air,
while goodness and grace
swirled around us.

~ Paula Gordon Lepp

First Sip  

  

 

photograph: Oakland, August 2022

Chance Encounters

Yesterday, when I received this poem, my heart soared. It has been awhile since I have seen a lizard, but I, too, grew up on a land of many lizards. Tarantulas, too. Ok, I admit that tarantulas still give me the willies, but what a coincidence! I am not familiar with the work of Alberto Rios, but my heart soared again when I learned that he holds the title of  Inaugural State Poet Laureate of Arizona. I am not sure that all of that should be capitalized, but seems like it should be. He does not know it, but he and I both will turn 70 in September. Suddenly, I am possessed with the idea to go to Arizona to study writing, and maybe even do some!  

I do not have a single photograph of a lizard. This well camouflaged roadrunner must do. I was in Chino Valley, Arizona last year when I was blessed to spot this elusive creature. We are all knitted together. You and I and all that breathes. Surely rocks breathe in some mysterious way.  Maybe I will study science, too.   

  

Today is Friday. As I mentioned last week, Friday is a day I devote to looking for a different view. Perhaps this is news meant only for me, but I share anyway. I love this poem.   

Wishing you all love and laughter today, and always.      

  

Weekend Weather

I misheard the weatherman say
There was rain and a chance of lizards this weekend.

I knew I had misheard it, but still.
I knew, too, never to take anything for granted,

Never to assume, which makes you know what
Out of u and me. Thank you

Miss Lee and second grade. What I heard -
It was silly, perhaps, but I looked around anyway

At least once or twice during the day
As I carefully crossed the very dry street.

This is a place of lizards, after all, and the news
As I heard it was not impossible. Blizzards

Somewhere else, but lizards here. Very possible.
My childhood, after all, was made of them.

I remember a summer of migrating tarantulas,
And I think today they would have made the news

Similarly. Rather than mishearing, perhaps
I heard news meant only for me.

Sometimes, that's how the world is,
Speaking in whatever voice it can find.

A chance of lizards for me -
And me ready for them, old friends, old friends.

~ Alberto Rios

         

 

 image: Chino Valley, AZ 2021

A Different View

Sometimes I need a different view, so on Fridays, I try to get out of the neighborhood if possible. Today, I decided to take Jack for a walk at Oyster Bay, here in San Leandro. As we were leaving, Tyler, who was diligently working on spreadsheets, mentioned with fondness the scent of the dill that grows there.  I love the view of the sky through the tall dill, so that is the path that Jack and I walked. 

  

Much of the park has been cleared for disc golf, and there are some grassy areas with picnic tables. Yet, I much prefer a walk among the dill. Bees also are attracted to dill, and the bee in this photograph surprised me.  I usually do not keep out-of-focus photographs, but this chance encounter reminds me to continue to look for those different views.  

   

    

Let the weeds in their season, 

and let the wildness in its time. 

Let lostness, 

and let wandering 

and waste. 

     

Jan L. Richardson 

       

       

  

image: Oyster Bay, San Leandro, August 2022 

Today

 Today Tyler sold our Murano. When he asked me last night what I thought about selling it, I truthfully said that I was pretty neutral about the decision. We have not been using it much. Yet today, the sale has left me thinking that this is more of a passage than I first realized. The main reason we do not use it much anymore is that our dog Jack is not healthy enough to travel. We have decided that once Jack passes, we are not going to have a dog for a while. We are going to travel a little more lightly.  

The Murano was loved not only by Jack, but by our other two dogs as well, both who have long since passed. Except when driven once a year to Costco, it was usually the vehicle that symbolized fun, whether we were going to the beach or on a longer trek. We will travel again, but the Murano had simply become just a little too big for our needs.  

 

After the transaction was complete and the Murano was on its way, we sat in the backyard and had lunch.  I told Tyler, "We have just downsized!'  We have more downsizing to do, of course, but yes, this is a time of change. The exterior of the house has recently been painted, and Tyler has been working diligently on a backyard project of taking out the hot tub and creating a nice seating area in its place.  A very pleasant young woman who has recently started her own landscaping business is going to help create a dry landscape for the front yard that does not include dead grass. I am grateful.    

In an anthology of prayers entitled God Makes the Rivers To Flow, Eknath Easwaran included a beautiful Native American Indian prayer, Great Life-Giving Spirit. The entire prayer is too long to include here, but I shall conclude with part of it. I love the image of fading into beautiful color. This is an image worth keeping as the journey continues.     

    

  

Spirit who comes out of the East, 

come to me with the power of the rising sun. 

Let there be light in my word. 

Let there be light on the path that I walk. 

Let me remember always that you give the gift of a new day. 

Never let me be burdened with sorrow by not starting over....

Great life-giving Spirit, 

I face the West, 

the direction of the sundown. 

Let me remember every day that the moment will come 

when my sun will go down.  

Never let me forget that I must fade into you.  

Give me beautiful color. 

Give me a great sky for setting, 

and when it is time to meet you, 

I come with glory.   

      

image: San Leandro, August 2022