God help us with ideas, those thoughts which inform
the way we live and the things we do.
Let us not seize upon ideas,
neither shall we hunt them down nor steal them away.
Rather let us wait faithfully for them to approach,
slowly & gently like creatures from the wild.
And let them enter willingly into our hearts and come and
go freely within the sanctuary of our contemplation,
informing our souls as they arrive
and being enlivened by the inspiration of our hearts as they leave.
illustration by Sommer Roman
This is a prayer that I return to often.
It seems pretty suitable for a day like today... with the start of this blog. the entrance of a new year. new season. It's a beautiful reminder to slow down and wait for the "informing of our souls." The root of contemplate implies the marking out of a space to observe. Coincidently, there is no phone app for that my friends. We actually have to stop. slooooo o o o w down. listen. contemplate. oh yeah. Are we forgetting this art? the artfulness of being a human creature. the artfulness of being a creature of faith. I suppose that is the question forming the foundation of this blog. This is my way of bringing back art, mystery, contemplation, dialogue, & out-of-boxness into our faith journeys with God.
In Leunig's poem, it is the idea/inspiration that is portrayed as the wild creature waiting for all stillness to approach and enter us. and who are we? I am reminded from an npr interview Land, Life & the Poetry of Creatures, that we too are creatures. of God. of the earth. made in a pretty darn special way. and THEREFORE there is an art, a craft in being. in living. in believing. in knowing Him. (Check out the full interview podcast and glean for yourself :)
We are mere creatures waiting for, drawing from, and receiving life daily from our Creator. What is life without this? What is life if we are not continually being inspired and utilizing our imaginations, ideas, energy, uniqueness... and thus in return, we ourselves: transformed. made anew again. and again.
..."STILL, the Presence that we come into with song is HERE.
Shaping the seasons of His wild will."
-excerpt from "Sabbaths" poem by Wendell Berry