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...

Moonlight

-
Richard Adams in his novel “Watership Down” paints a rich picture of the full moon, providing a fresh glimpse of the landscape at night. By the way, “Watership Down” is not the name of a sunken submarine. “Down” here refers to treeless, rolling hills (the Downs of Southern England).

“The full moon, well risen in a cloudless eastern sky, covered the high solitude with its light. We are not conscious of daylight as that which displaces darkness. Daylight, even when the sun is clear of clouds, seems to us simply the natural condition of the earth and air. When we think of the downs, we think of the downs in daylight, as we think of a rabbit with its fur on. Stubbs may have envisaged the skeleton inside the horse, but most of us do not: and we do not usually envisage the downs without daylight, even though the light is not a part of the down itself as the hide is part of the horse itself. We take daylight for granted. But moonlight is another matter. It is inconstant. The full moon wanes and returns again. Clouds may obscure it to an extent to which they cannot obscure daylight. Water is necessary to us, but a waterfall is not. Where it is to be found it is something extra, a beautiful ornament. We need daylight and to that extent it is utilitarian, but moonlight we do not need. When it comes, it serves no necessity. It transforms. It falls upon the banks and the grass, separating one long blade from another; turning a drift of brown, frosted leaves from a single heap to innumerable flashing fragments; or glimmering lengthways along wet twigs as though light itself were ductile. Its long beams pour, white and sharp, between the trunks of trees, their clarity fading as they recede into the powdery, misty distance of beech woods at night. In moonlight, two acres of coarse bent grass, undulant and ankle deep, tumbled and rough as a horse’s mane, appear like a bay of waves, all shadowy troughs and hollows. The growth is so thick and matted that even the wind does not move it, but it is the moonlight that seems to confer stillness upon it. We do not take moonlight for granted. It is like snow, or like the dew on a July morning. It does not reveal but changes what it covers. And its low intensity—so much lower than that of daylight—makes us conscious that it is something added to the down, to give it, for only a little time, a singular and marvelous quality that we should admire while we can, for soon it will be gone again.” (page 148)

(Adams, Richard. “Watership Down.” New York: Macmillan, 1972.)

Popular posts from this blog

Rock Me, Epictetus!

-
Image
“Keep constant guard over your perceptions, for it is no small thing you are protecting, but your respect, trustworthiness and steadiness, peace of mind, freedom from pain and fear, in a word your freedom. For what would you sell these things?” EPICTETUS, DISCOURSES, 4.3.6 b –8 
Read more

The Smooth-flowing Life

-
Image
Legend has it that the astronomer Ptolemy (1st century A.D.) suggested that falling stars were caused by the gods moving in the heavens, thus knocking stars out of their places. Somehow people reasoned that that if the gods were moving, they must be getting close to earth so they would lift their "prayers" or "wishes" (literally, "desires") whenever they saw the stars falling in hopes the gods would notice and grant a favorable answer. But how does one wish on falling star? Once you see it, it's gone before the wish or prayer can be made! The answer is simple: meteor shower. That's how to get your wish. Mrs. Ann Hodges had a wish fall right into her lap. Sort of. In 1954 Mrs. Hodges was sleeping on the couch when a 8 1/2 pound meteorite fell through her house and into her living room where it bounced off the radio and struck her left hip leaving her with a bruise. Not sure what she was wishing, but that's not how to do it. Epictetus hel...
Read more