Grief

Sometimes the news comes quick. Sometimes the news comes slow. No matter how or when it comes, grief travels in the wake of the news. Grief is heavy, weighty, a burden, especially when it involves someone deeply loved. Grief is not meant to be carried alone. It’s too heavy and may last a while—and that’s ok. That’s what family and friends are for, to share the load. Jesus stood outside the tomb of his friend and wept but He did not weep alone. It was a deep, human moment. “ Blessed are those who mourn, for they shall be comforted ” (Matt 5:4). If anyone knows how we feel in grief, it’s Him. But His grief did not linger long, as at the mention of his name, Lazarus came forth. We are not meant to dwell in grief, but should leave room enough for it. Let it run its course. Like the song says, “ Every Storm Runs Out Of Rain .” Another song says, “ The storm We will dance as it breaks The storm It will give as it takes And all of our pain is washed away Don't cry or be afraid Some things...

Finding What I’ve Missed

Recently I’ve been reading about Leonardo DaVinci and have been intrigued by his style of observation: he did not merely “observe,” but he “examined” everything--even things considered mundane--from at least three perspectives. He was fascinated by what he saw. I thought to test his style and went for a short walk on break the other day. I was astounded at my discovery.

Outside, I accepted the challenged to learn from a cloud of gnats. Yes, gnats. They could not be examined against a light background, so I positioned myself to cast them against a dark background. The gnats did what they do best—the tumbled and jumbled silently in the air, their aerial acrobatics about 6 feet from the ground, rising and falling in an 18 to 24 inch range. I could only imagine how they must have sounded to each other, or what they were doing (but one can guess).
I watched the cloud. These little bugs so small they were barely discernable as bugs, only dots, rising and falling in the air, doing what comes gnaturally. Since the swarm was rather small, I tried to focus on one member. After a few moments of observation, I saw the pattern and was stunned. When each member rose in the air, it spiraled upward in a clock-wise fashion in a loop no more than 8 inches in diameter. When each descended, it reversed direction and spiraled downward counter-clockwise in the same 8 inch loop. Each member ascended and descended clockwise and counter-clockwise in turn. No observable descent was clockwise and contrariwise the reverse—each in its own order.

There is not much I can do with these observations, but I am filled with awe at the intent of the Creator behind it all. His handiwork is clearly seen through the top field of my bi-focals. It took less than 10 minutes for me to find another reason to worship God and thank Him for the care that He shows even the smallest creatures.
As I reflect, I recall how I’ve experienced these little guys with all my senses and never paid attention. Like you, I’ve walked unwittingly into swarms, had them in my ears, and have perhaps have swallowed a few too many without further regard and have never stopped to examine.

I wonder what else I’ve missed? I 'll let you know when I find it.

Popular posts from this blog

Rock Me, Epictetus!

The Smooth-flowing Life