Tag: mystery

Sabbath

Back Porch Sabbath

Gentle Reader, slowing down to rest is not easy for me. I like to be busy, to juggle multiple projects and responsibilities. Busyness gives me a sense of purpose and accomplishment, and I’m embarrassed to say, even a sense of meaning. But the meaning of my life, myself, has to be more than my activities, more than my accomplishments, such as they are. Someday, I will no longer be able to do those things. For this reason, I am grateful for the Sabbath.

After the Mass, the back porch is the perfect place to enjoy the Sabbath. There, I can hear birdsong and feel the breeze on my skin. I can ponder the gift of my life, the gift of self-awareness.

My pondering won’t result in any answers. Instead, it will remind me that there is more to life than my daily activities. It will renew my appreciation for Mystery.

St. Therese and Violets

The violets are in full bloom now. They always remind me of St. Therese of Lisieux. In The Story of a Soul, she uses the analogy of violets to represent all the little souls who give God joy as they strive to love Him in their everyday lives. In God’s garden, these little souls do not demonstrate the splendor of the rose or the whiteness of the lily, but they give God joy as his glance falls upon their simple beauty.

The color of violets is the color of Lent. This is a solemn season. We try to ponder the unimaginable gift that Jesus has given us in his passion. We can’t fully appreciate it or understand it. After all, we are only little souls, little violets in the face of such a Mystery.

All Things Tall

The view above the trees and rooftops from my back door

I like looking at things that are tall. When I walk, I look at the treetops (which is sometimes hazardous to my feet), and I look at the mountains. Though I love them both, the mountains provide the best food for thought. There is mystery there. In spite of all the expert climbers who have ever climbed, I am convinced there are places that no human foot has touched. I imagine treasures there, known only to the birds — a rare blossom rising from a crag in the rocks, a hidden cave that glistens with veins of gold, a hidden spring, a strange creature never previously seen.

Beyond their physical mystery, mountains remind me that there is so much more to life than I am able to discover or grasp. There is so much more in this world that I will never know. This is a source of abiding joy for me. Life is inexhaustible. There is always more. There is always hope. There is always God.

Being

Just sitting in the garden – not as easy as it sounds, especially when there are duties of life awaiting me. I think it’s important, though. Most of the time I run from one task to another until I have to stop and rest. Are those tasks really that important?

This morning I saw a roadrunner running across the road. (In Southern New Mexico, we really only see them when they are running across the road. Hence, the name.) Almost impossible to get a photo. They are always running.

I think I will just sit here for a while and ponder the mystery of being.

For the Love of Mystery

Shamrock Plant

Catholics have a certain appreciation and love for mystery. Today is the feast of the Holy Trinity, the Ultimate Mystery. St. Patrick used a shamrock to explain it ― one stem with three leaves. I wouldn’t presume to try to top that. One God who manifests as three distinct Persons. The concept isn’t logical, which is one of the reasons I love it. I can ponder this Mystery for a lifetime without ever reaching the height, depth, and breadth of it.