Kingfishers and Dragonflies

(This post represents some of my initial thinking-through/my restatement of the G.M. Hopkins poem.)

The sound of plucked strings on an instrument, of a rock tumbling down a well, or of a ringing bell - the speech of the inanimate declares themselves. But in their declaration, they also speak God. For they do as they were created to do, glorifying their Creator. As a Christ-follower, I glorify my Creator as well, but with a difference: I know, I mean, I am intentional in my glorification.

I justice.

I keep grace.

In keeping grace, all my goings become graces.

I act Christ - Indeed, I am christened with Christ; I am Christed. Christ plays to the Father through me. Kingfishers and dragonflies, being themselves, catch and draw something that is other than themselves, that then becomes part of themselves. They dwell indoors (they are true to themselves) but, in the dwelling, catch fire and draw flame.

We do this at a different pitch. We are created uniquely, our very inscape, as Hopkins would say, shows quick looks, peeks, glimpses of God in our self-expression, in our creativity, in our being what we are. For we are Image-Bearers, though broken. And as believers we are not only Image-Bearers, but we are also Christ-bearers.

The Spirit hovers over the deep of our hearts and speaks into it. He reigns as King, but his reign is as the reign of a lover with his beloved. We are wooed and won; we are smitten.

And if enamored of him, there follows a convergence of head and heart and hand. We are not merely servants seeking to follow the rule of the King. We are bewitched by the beauty of our Lover, and so we seek to become his desires for us; we yearn to be as he sees us - Christ - and play, lovely, to our Father.

So I justice.

I keep grace.

In keeping grace, all my goings become graces.

I am Christed, Spirit-hovered, spoken into and to, loved.

And so are you.

In the Meantime

Laura was heading to a conference today, so I had to drive Sophie in to school this morning. Laura pulled out first, but we basically left at the same time. She called me five minutes down the road.

"Hey," I said.

"Hey, I have a sexy man behind me in a white van."

I looked around and her Jeep was nowhere in sight. "Oh really?" I said.

"Uh huh," she said.

Then I spotted her a quarter of a mile up the road. I said, "You don't, by any chance, mean the white van that's tailgating you, do you?"

"Uh huh," she said in her oh-so-sultry voice.

"Well that sexy man ain't me, Baby. I'm the white van behind that white van."

---

This past month a local church put up a new message on their sign out front. It makes me chuckle every time I pass it.

"Be Thankful for Little
& Enjoy Much"

G.M. Hopkins

As kingfishers catch fire, dragonflies dráw fláme;
As tumbled over rim in roundy wells
Stones ring; like each tucked string tells, each hung bell’s
Bow swung finds tongue to fling out broad its name;
Each mortal thing does one thing and the same:
Deals out that being indoors each one dwells;
Selves—goes itself; myself it speaks and spells,
Crying Whát I do is me: for that I came.

Í say móre: the just man justices;
Kéeps gráce: thát keeps all his goings graces;
Acts in God’s eye what in God’s eye he is—
Chríst—for Christ plays in ten thousand places,
Lovely in limbs, and lovely in eyes not his
To the Father through the features of men’s faces.

(I plan to make some comments on this poem in the next day or two. But for now, just get a feel for the poem. I would love to hear your thoughts on it.)

"Stereotypes" for $200, Alex

Downtown
Originally uploaded by sixlyons.

Now this upsets me. Main St. ends at this delightful storefront in my small, rural town. (Yes, that's a Christmas angel, freshly hung for the holiday, between the two Confederate flags.) Now, I don't know the name of the store, or if it even has one, but they sell knives, caps, T-shirts, and lighters - a niche market here.

This is really not what the South is about, by the way. Any North Carolinian can tell you as much. But I can't figure out why some people so tenaciously cling to a symbol that is so offensive to so many.

As a tie-in with national news - I wonder what would happen if we started burning Confederate flags? Not that I ever would, but if I did burn one, my guess is that there would be one less blogger on the Internet.

And a Horse

Horse
Originally uploaded by sixlyons.

Here's a horse Anna drew yesterday. Blow this baby up, and you'll see how she used some highlights in the horse's mane and tail.

Yesterday's Unicorns

Yesterday's Unicorns
Originally uploaded by sixlyons.

A current sample of Anna's drawing. This is not her best work, but I thought I'd snag a picture while I was thinking about it.

What I love about this picture is the different poses of her unicorns and the shape of her pink unicorn's body. Very nicely drawn.

Anna is four (almost five).

Bipolar

Rhymeless

You wrenched it away from me:
Shifty-eyed, Janus-faced brute,
To whom I spoke solemn vows,
To whom I pledged loyalty.

Inconstant, treacherous whore:
Thief of love, thief of life, thief -
Cutpurse, cutthroat, cut me down
Till my face faced the floor.

You ripped it away from me.
You left me nothing but you.
Alone with you I'm lonely;
Alone with you I'm rhymeless.

Laughter

I stood upon Reason's bar
Amidst the deep of mourning
And watched the waters rise up.

Despair and doubt flooded me.
Sorrow rose above Reason,
Swirling in slow, sluggish turns.

Then I remembered that tree,
That strong hands created me,
And threw back my head and laughed.

And my laughter filled the world.

Snow?

I enjoy where I live. In the middle of North Carolina, I have mountains and an ocean within driving distance. I've made day-trips to both places. I enjoy telling family in February that it's in the 60s here. I like all the flowers - some, if you plant them, will ride out the entire winter season.

But today it is raining, stay-in-your-bed rain, read-a-book rain. In the mountains it's snowing.

I grew up in Michigan. It snows in Michigan. And I, and turn away if you cannot bear it, love the snow. Especially the first snow of the year. But snow in general is pretty fantastic in my book. Yes, it's cold. Yes, it can be dangerous. All the more reason to curl up with a good book. Children make it difficult, sometimes, to enjoy the snow. But if you get a good snow, then children provide a good excuse to build snowfolk or to go tobogganing or sledding. Children love the snow. And after you come inside from a good romp in the snow there is, and this is mandatory, hot cocoa for drinking.

And so today, all day, I've been rather depressed. I want the snow. I want the magic that shuts down the world for a day or two.

. . . . .

Toboggan is a superlative word, apparently. So superlative that in North Carolina we use the word to refer to a stocking cap instead of a long wooden sled. The etymology behind this usage is beyond me, but even so, it is so.

Apple Fur

Sophie tried peeling her own apple today with a vegetable peeler. Two Band-Aids later I was peeling it for her. Then Anna ran up to me and asked if I would take the fur off her apple too.

The apples are old, people, but they're not that old.

The End Is Near

It's true: The end is near. This is the time. This is the season - the season of advent, of coming. And yet . . .

I still haven't done my Christmas shopping. Now this isn't unusual for me. We're heading up to Michigan for Christmas with my family and we usually wait until we're there to shop - it saves packing the gifts and there are eager (almost eager) babysitters present. Anyway, we eagerly await our time in the frozen tundra. We eagerly await time away, time with family, time to rest. And the kids also eagerly await, of course, stuff - wrapped in the magic paper of possibility. Sure it's the size and shape of a book, but maybe it's a Barbie. Yes, it rattles like a maraca, but does that mean it can't be a new dolly?

Let me enjoy my kids and my family. Let me observe Advent and celebrate Christmas. Let me praise God for being faithful to his promise to send the Messiah, our King, his Son.

I don't want anything this year. Nada. If you get me anything, I'll be offended. Give the money to the poor instead (no, not me - the other poor.)