these are photos i took of a tree just outside warriors mark, pa.
the people who walked in darkness have seen a great light. we all see a great deal of lights these days. i'm headed into manhattan tonight for a worship service, and i can already feel the glow of a million bulbs, and army of brilliance, sent to me to shine me in to buying something. our towns and cities and televisions are afire with the allure of light and lamp and lumen. we are tucked so comfortably in constant light that we have forgotten about the darkness just there on the edge of the florscence. we have forgotten about the shadow.
but if we were to stand really still: if we were to stop opening our cell phones. if we were to stop the incessant button-pushing. if we were to to remove our earbuds and just stand still for long enough, we would re-discover that the rhythm of life includes day and night. and if we were still enough to be covered in shadow, for once, we would see how badly we need the light.
as advent arrives, i want to stand still, for once. i want to turn off the phone and listen. i want to turn off the lights and look around. i want to feel the night around me. i want to feel a kind of darkness that doesn't know what will happen next, or where there is a root for tripping on. i want to ache for light again. i want to feel a need, and be surprised by a star. and singing. and salvation.
the people who walked in darkness have seen a great light. we all see a great deal of lights these days. i'm headed into manhattan tonight for a worship service, and i can already feel the glow of a million bulbs, and army of brilliance, sent to me to shine me in to buying something. our towns and cities and televisions are afire with the allure of light and lamp and lumen. we are tucked so comfortably in constant light that we have forgotten about the darkness just there on the edge of the florscence. we have forgotten about the shadow.
but if we were to stand really still: if we were to stop opening our cell phones. if we were to stop the incessant button-pushing. if we were to to remove our earbuds and just stand still for long enough, we would re-discover that the rhythm of life includes day and night. and if we were still enough to be covered in shadow, for once, we would see how badly we need the light.
as advent arrives, i want to stand still, for once. i want to turn off the phone and listen. i want to turn off the lights and look around. i want to feel the night around me. i want to feel a kind of darkness that doesn't know what will happen next, or where there is a root for tripping on. i want to ache for light again. i want to feel a need, and be surprised by a star. and singing. and salvation.
Comments
I loved this post. I am currently taking Multiple Intelligences, which is Howard Gardner's idea that we as human beings are not all "smart" in the same way. He has come up with 8 different intelligences. This week I am studying the naturalist intelligence. This intelligence is most recognized in people as a strong interest in nature and the outdoors. Naturalists also love to categorize, compartmentalize, compare, contrast, etc. Anyway, this week I had to do a naturalist activity to help find my inner naturalist. So, I sat still. Outside. I listened, watched, felt, and smelled my surroundings...it was so serene and so relaxing. It really helped me to focus and appreciate the wonder of God's creation.
I think we all need to learn to take a break, remember what being still is, and remember what true darkness looks like. And what better time to do that than during Advent. I'll stop there because you already said it so much better than I can. All I can say is, mmmm...hmmmm... and nod adamantly in reply. :) Or as my students like to say, "word."
Wonderful picture... maybe you could make a lovely little copy and send it to PA? The sunset one is my favorite. Did you know I collect pictures of sunsets? I do.