Whatever is True

It's been a disorienting week, to say the least, here in Minnesota.  Thousands of federal ICE agents have been deployed here, and it's a pressure cooker.  I've been trying to process it all, to find some clarity.  I admit, when I see people in power abusing the vulnerable it makes my blood boil, but there are so many conflicting issues in our situation that my head is spinning.

I looked out my window yesterday to see snowflakes flying in every direction.  They mirrored my inner world.  It looked like the temperature was helping the flakes hold their shape, so I decided to grab my camera and take a closer look.  I was not disappointed.  

Some were quite clear.  Others had frost attached to them, crystal upon crystal.  Some were in clumps, indistinguishable from one another. I took some photos even as the wind was whisking them away, amazed as I always am by what lies beyond what I can see--whether too small, too big, too far.  Sometimes things lie beyond my vision due to my lack of imagination and attention.  They are there whether I notice or not.

I returned to the warmth inside to see if any of my photos had done the flakes justice.  They're not perfect, but they demonstrate why it's worth taking a closer look at the snow.

After all of the news I've taken in, and conversations I've had this week, it all comes down to one thing. We were placed on this earth to take care of it, to take care of each other.  It's our calling, and our opportunity to live as God's partners on this earth.  Author Brad Montague says, "Whatever we pay attention to grows."  That's our calling--to look for beauty, to shine a light on it, to nurture it and to watch it grow.  When we focus on the right things, everything else falls away into the background.  

So after a week of subjecting myself to a lot of information--but also participating in a lot of helpful conversations that challenged my point of view and also encouraged me--I'm choosing to focus on what is beautiful.  If I look closely, it reminds me that there is so much more, just beyond view.

Praying for peace in this beautiful world God made.

Juxtaposed

If you want to grow a garden, you'd ideally pick a place with fertile soil and room for roots to grow deep. But flowers can also grow on a rocky precipice among the links of old iron chains. These did. 

Sometimes the truth is held in tension.

Two things can be true at once, even if they seem like a contradiction.

I think about this often when I hear the same tired old binary thinking that comes out of the news and conversations around me. I've been pondering what it means to dwell in Eden. I'm drawn easily to the breathtaking beauty of God's creation--I marvel at the sacred trust of cultivating this garden globe. But I am constantly reminded by current events about the ugliness and devastation that also plagues it.

Still I linger in the beauty, leaning in closer to draw in its strength. I don't want to be the kind of person who glosses over the struggles of the people beside her, who looks away from suffering, who offers platitudes instead of a hand. 

Dwelling in Eden reminds me where we came from, where we're heading, and that real good is indeed happening around us as so many of the humans God made in his image actually spend untold, Spirit-filled energy reflecting his light and love into the world through their labors, their love, their art, their words, their wisdom. They are everywhere, if we have eyes to see them. They are our neighbors, our friends, our siblings, our parents, our children, our co-workers. They are people who look like us, believe like us, act like us, and also people who don't.

Dwelling in Eden reminds me that if I am willing to jump into the task of caring for this world and the people God dearly loves, I will not be alone, and it will make a difference. It will.

Broken chains always speak to me of freedom. These resilient flowers with all their beauty on display remind me what happens when we dare to be generous with the freedom we have.