Yearn to be small

“It is very strange that the years teach us patience –
that the shorter our time, the greater our capacity for waiting.”

Elizabeth Taylor (née Coles)


(full moon / 2018 / Julie Cook)

Sorrowful at dusk, I wandered outside to mindlessly water the plants.
The sun had set and the moon was rising in the evening sky.

There was a quiet to this little world of mine.

A stark contrast to those teeming cities across this reeling nation caught in turmoil.

It was not yet night but rater twilight…and the rising moon caught my eye…

It wasn’t yet a full moon, but the light cast was illuminated through a humid and hazy sky–
casting an ethereal thin glowing shimmer…all veiled through a typical southern night sky.

I looked up, and despite not yet being a full moon, I suddenly felt very small.

Overwhelmed by a seemingly small glowing skewed orb in a steamy southern night’s sky,
oddly, I found a peace in the sense of being small.

I suddenly yearned to be small…
I relished in feeling minute.

For to be small meant that I was not the center of this, or better yet,
I was not, am not, the proverbial center of the universe or even my universe.

And maybe that is really my hope…my hope, my wish, my prayer…
that my fellow countrymen would and could see that they too should yearn to be small.

That the terrorists, the rioters, the looters, the arsonists, the criminals could see
that they are not as big as they imagine nor as grand as their egos dictate.

And so I say to one and all, yearn to be small.

Egos, our egos, are not small.
They vie for power and control.
They vie to be front and center.

An ego is much like a black hole in that it gobbles up everything in its path.
It feeds upon everything and everyone that happens within its sights.

Death, the loss of life, the destruction of property are all of little consequence–
as the ego fails to acknowledge the reality.

The ego lies.
Satan lies.
He is the father of all lies.

The ego is too self-absorbed to see anything other than itself or of its wants and needs.
The ego yearns to be fed.
It must be fed in order to survive and thrive.

Our lives are being consumed by egos.
Ravenous egos.
And they don’t care who stands in the way.

We can either succumb to the lies of an ego, or we can be bold while
daring to be small.

May we yearn, nay dare, to be small.

“Let not your hearts be troubled. Believe in God;
believe also in me. 2 In my Father’s house are many rooms.
If it were not so, would I have told you that I go to prepare a place for you?
And if I go and prepare a place for you,
I will come again and will take you to myself,
that where I am you may be also. 4 And you know the way to where I am going.

John 14:1-4

Veiled in light

Let the veil of silence fall presently over what happened afterwards.
Silence, too, can speak out.

Lech Walesa

“I believe in Christianity as I believe that the sun has risen: not only because I see it, but because by it I see everything else.”
― C.S. Lewis

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(tiny tomato blooms basking in the sun / Julie Cook / 2015)

She teases, tantalizes and titilates, dancing in and out. . .
Often hiding behind a thin gossamer veil.
Embracing with tender warmth, she soothes and caresses weary souls.
Yet like a fickle temptress, her sweet warmth can grow hot with rage. . .
It is without warning that she can assail the unsuspecting with her wicked wrath.

Yet more often than not, she greets each day sweetly . . .
In a sleepy silence. . .growing ever more beautiful and bright.
She beams in glowing radiance. . .
Yet as it is with those of intense beauty, she has her darker days of melancholy. . .
Those dreary days when she is barely present. . .
Waxing and waning, lethargic and dull. . .
She broods within herself, hidden away as if tending a deep wound or insult.

And yet in spite of any perceived slight, she will reappear in her full glory. . .
Refreshed, glowing and once again her sly coy self. . .
As she merrily seduces all into complacent assumptions.
It is in like turn that she will offer up her full majesty with a triumphant fervor–
Spinning her passions while coaxing and summoning. . .
Pulling and prying that which was not from out of the darkness. . .
Willing the lifeless upward from the black void of nothingness. . .
As once again she works her magic,
Waving and stretching her radiant arms outward over all in need of light. . .