This morning’s reflection on the way out the door to school with she who is rapidly approaching age four:
“Look, poppa, the birds in the air. They are singing for us. Wow.”
Those moments of grace-filled witness gave way to something more, as we – she and I – flew among them and their song became ours.
When – in the blink of an eye, the space between inhalations- that too fell away, and our witnessing “we” merged with the wind beneath wings and the gusts of Spirit that animated feathers called into knowing that this was all God.
and all the space between.
But alas, the beat of bird wing, could not go on forever (or so I thought), and the deep awareness that enabled flight subtly gave way to a different pulmonary beat, to blood flow and breath, as self invaded expanse again.
“Daddy, do you see?”
“Yes, my love, I do….Thank you…
We better get moving or we will be late for school.”
As the morning moves on, drop off completed, and pressing matters of the day are revealed, I wonder am I missing something. Need I take more seriously the words of Jesus and become more like a little child, so that I might enter the realm of heaven (Matt 18:3, Mark 10:15, Luke 18:17)?
Would it behove me to consider the birds of the air more often and remember my place in the midst of creation (Matt 6:26-27)?
Absolutely, of course, but first let me check this email, return that phone call, post this blog, tend to this, take care of that. Until…what was it I was meaning to do again?