Seeds under the ground on a mid-winter’s night
sleep with their dreams of Spring.
They are dancing, tunneling, settling in,
finding just the right place to begin
their sprouting. But first, they must rest,
gather to themselves the vision
of what they will be.
Is it faith—this survival spirit, this
willingness to abide, to seek darkness,
even revel in it, to be willingly
unnoticed for long months of the year?
I want to believe in my own renewing,
let body and spirit rest, refuse to exhaust myself
in someone else’s expectations, grow old
before my time, cast off, disposed of.
I want to be recycled endlessly, and flower again
and yet again unexpectedly, bloom into
a surprising color for an old woman, ripe
with wrinkled youth and vigorous beauty,
with twinkling eyes in deep sockets,
making them wonder
just how I do it.

God’s Presence

I am a reasonably orthodox Methodist, and I go to church on Sunday because fellowship matters, because I find meaning in the history of the Israelites and in the Gospels, and because I love to sing hymns. But it is not in “God’s house” that I feel God’s presence most—it is in his outdoors, on some sun-warmed slope of pine needles or by the surf. It is there that the numbing categories men have devised to contain this mystery—sin and redemption and incarnation and so on—fall away, leaving the overwhelming sense of the goodness and the sweetness at work in the world.

Conscious of Creation

There appears to be a law that when creatures have reached the level of consciousness, as humans have, they must become conscious of the creation; they must learn how they fit into it and what its needs are and what it requires of them, or else pay a terrible penalty: the spirit of the creation will go out of them, and they will become destructive; the very earth will depart from them and go where they cannot follow.

Every Instant, Creation

Creation, we are taught, is not an act that happened once upon a time, once and for ever. The act of bringing the world into existence is a continuous process. God called the world into being, and that call goes on. There is this present moment because God is present. Every instant is an act of creation.

Utter Fullness

If we honor, as Jesus did, the primary role of the Kingdom of God, which is about life radically lived to the full, then resurrection is not so much about the vindication of his death as about the affirmation of a life lived in utter fullness. Resurrection belongs to the life rather than to the death of Jesus. In a similar vein, resurrection is an affirmation and celebration of the fullness of life as exemplified by Jesus and offered as a new horizon of creative engagement for all who follow the pathway of Jesus.