A leisurely walk to the end of the block with my children and their red wagon. Wearing no coats or sweaters, we were hot even with the wind that raced continually past us on its endless journey southward.
A downy, gosling feather, smoky grey with tan fringes, captured by the bark of dead wood lying amidst last years fallen oak leaves, gently removed by my daughter and kept as a treasure in her collection.
The constant trill and chatter of busy birds nesting in the canopy of tree branches above us. The busyness, in general, of all the woodland and prairie creatures.
Cotton fingernails budding on the slender, drooping branches of my towering willows. They are a splendid lady, swishing her fine frock and swaying her ample hips as she waltzes with the wind, full of feminine sensuality and proud of it.
A bee sting, a welt the size of a blueberry with a bright pink center, on the bare bum of my son who sustained the injury while passing water in the bushes.
Green spears cutting through black soil, as daffodils, tulips, and daylillies wake from icy slumber and seek the sun.
A rain shower with small, scattered, gun smoke clouds casting dark shadows over there, but leaving a pitcher full of sunshine pouring down on the ground in a giant gush, splashing puddles of glistening light over here.
The result was a remarkable rainbow. And this, just when current events had cast me so low that I was having a hard time looking up. Just when my heart had dried up within me and turned my tears to ashes over this Terri, this Precious Braveheart, that sweet baby, who, being condemned to die of starvation though innocent, drank heartily from Christ's cup of suffering before withering away; God sent His sign and I was surprised by joy.
O wondrous love that watches over me. You overwhelm my days with good. O wondrous love that will not let me go.
The rainbow shone like gemstones, like yummy sherbet bands, only luminescent, in every flavor and waxed unbroken from one end of my property to the other arching high into the bruised sky. Above it was an echo, a larger rainbow, less brilliant and broken but almost heralding the brilliance of the other. They were royal brothers, half-deities, leaving their celestial thrones for a rare, earthly procession.
As night approached, the temperature dropped suddenly and the constant clanging of the chimes hanging outside my kitchen window alerted me to the rowdy weather that was on its way. From the west a herd of buffalo, in a line of thunderheads, charged with their heads down, kicking up dust and shaking the ground beneath them. With them came hail, and lightening, tornados, and strong winds.
A downy, gosling feather, smoky grey with tan fringes, captured by the bark of dead wood lying amidst last years fallen oak leaves, gently removed by my daughter and kept as a treasure in her collection.
The constant trill and chatter of busy birds nesting in the canopy of tree branches above us. The busyness, in general, of all the woodland and prairie creatures.
Cotton fingernails budding on the slender, drooping branches of my towering willows. They are a splendid lady, swishing her fine frock and swaying her ample hips as she waltzes with the wind, full of feminine sensuality and proud of it.
A bee sting, a welt the size of a blueberry with a bright pink center, on the bare bum of my son who sustained the injury while passing water in the bushes.
Green spears cutting through black soil, as daffodils, tulips, and daylillies wake from icy slumber and seek the sun.
A rain shower with small, scattered, gun smoke clouds casting dark shadows over there, but leaving a pitcher full of sunshine pouring down on the ground in a giant gush, splashing puddles of glistening light over here.
The result was a remarkable rainbow. And this, just when current events had cast me so low that I was having a hard time looking up. Just when my heart had dried up within me and turned my tears to ashes over this Terri, this Precious Braveheart, that sweet baby, who, being condemned to die of starvation though innocent, drank heartily from Christ's cup of suffering before withering away; God sent His sign and I was surprised by joy.
O wondrous love that watches over me. You overwhelm my days with good. O wondrous love that will not let me go.
The rainbow shone like gemstones, like yummy sherbet bands, only luminescent, in every flavor and waxed unbroken from one end of my property to the other arching high into the bruised sky. Above it was an echo, a larger rainbow, less brilliant and broken but almost heralding the brilliance of the other. They were royal brothers, half-deities, leaving their celestial thrones for a rare, earthly procession.
As night approached, the temperature dropped suddenly and the constant clanging of the chimes hanging outside my kitchen window alerted me to the rowdy weather that was on its way. From the west a herd of buffalo, in a line of thunderheads, charged with their heads down, kicking up dust and shaking the ground beneath them. With them came hail, and lightening, tornados, and strong winds.
I love a rainy night. Ooh,ooh. I love to watch the thunder and the lightning as it lights up the sky. You know, it makes me feel good.
With the morning came a return to wintry weather and news of Terri's death. Both were welcome.
by C.C.Kurzeja
2005 All Rights Reserved
6 comments:
Prose, scripture, and Eddie Rabbit. In a world where two massive earthquakes occur on the days after Christmas and Easter, where the State sanctioned the deliberate starving to death of a woman who said in casual conversation she wouldn't want to be kept alive via artifical means... Not much surprises me, but your coherent weaving of personal thoughts, the Word of God and a mediocre pop song from the early eighties did - pleasantly (in a way in which I never thought some things could be coherently strung together.)
Terri hung on long after she should have died, as did John Paul the Second, while I sometimes wonder if I huddle too much in my apartment and cling too tightly to my own existence...
Terri Schindler ( I don't have to recognize a non-existent marriage) may have suffered an unjust and horrible death, but it has set in motion quite a few events that will change forever the way we view "assisted death". And perhaps judicial tyranny will be halted before it gets too out of control.
Random thoughts.
I once promised God I would not try to take my own life...again, after He saved me from my first attempt long ago. But I think of Terri and John Paul dining with Christ at His table tonight and I cannot help but eagerly await the time when I can sit down with the apostle Paul and C.S. Lewis and just listen to them converse...
Times like this when I feel "I've never been more homesick than now." - Mercy Me
Thank you so much for your thoughtful comments. I really enjoy reading them.
"..."two massive earthquakes...day after Christmas and Easter..."
Yes, yes, yes! That means something. I don't know what, but it can not be a coincidence. And surely the God who knows the beginning and the end, who uses patterns and types to prophecy and display his glory to men and angles, who is telling a story that began in Eden and will end in Jerulsalem (ancient Eden if you ask me - but that's another blog) who uses every person great and small and every tribe and nation as characters in his story that only He knows, surely there is something to those earthquakes. What? I don't know, but something.
"...take my own life..." That was very personal. Thank you for sharing that here. I'm so glad you're around.
"...too tightly to my own existence..."
You're BUNGEE JUMPING in NEW ZEALAND next month, for Chri-Petes! You could use some tightening up in my opinion. (wink)
And yes, I look forward to the banquet table of Christ and to meeting the Pope and Terri and Paul and C.S.Lewis (Would it have been devine if blogs had been invented in his day? He would've blogged, you think?)
(please note, the following comments are a tad off topic to the original post. I would have gladly e-mailed them but you - perhaps wisely - chose not to post your e-mail address. And I totally understand that)
Interesting. Are you saying you think the Original Eden was where Jerusalem is now? Or that the new Jerusalem will be on the site of the Old Eden? I am of the opinion that the original Eden is at the bottom of what is known as the Black Sea. Evidence for this is scant, but remains of a village have been faound in its depths, in addition to the fact that the Tigris and Euphrates flow out of it. It's possible that Eden was buried during the Great Flood and thus God fulfills his promise that no man should enter it again (plus it gives the guardian angel time off).
As for my suicide attempt, it's easy to talk about because 1) it was 13 years ago, and 2) God's grace has allowed me to share that particular episode of my life with others to help them during crises...so it's become easier to talk about. Early on, I was deeply ashamed about it. But since God sent an angel to earth in the form of my wife, it's as though I was another person back then...
Nice to see someone else recognizes how God uses signs and wonders sometimes without even revealing what they mean. Earthquakes the days after Easter and Christmas? That can be no coincidence (I'll leave out the fact that they occured in the most predominately muslim country on earth - woops, too late).
Anyway, I enjoy your blog immensely, even though I do envy your writing ability (fancy myself something of a writer, but then I read stuff like yours, or James Lileks and feel like I'm an imposter...no I am not fishing for a compliment or encouragement, please do not feel obliged... I think in this world of overly inflated self-esteem, it's healthy to realize there are people in existence who are better at some things than I am...)
Sigh. I just can't write short remarks. When they do occur, be thankful.
Garrett,
As for the Garden of Eden. I believe that Jerusalem is on the original garden of Eden. I believe that is the significnace of that piece of parcel on all the face of the earth. I would like to do a series of posts on it, someday.
Don't get me wrong though. I'm not married to any theory that isn't central to the Gospel of Christ. I believe I've heard the Black Sea theory before, and it has some interesting aspects to it.
And thank you so, so much for your encouragment: "I do envy your writing ability" (blush)
Take care.
your post," Signs of Spring" has really spoken to my heart. I have read it several times since terri'sand the Pope's death. Your rainbow is not only a symbol of god's promise to us but for me a sign of his everlasting covenant for Hope and Grace. I envisoned the smaller rainbow as terri and the larger as the Pope. God's message to us that they are home. The smaller more vibrate rainbow being terri, symbolizing her youth and the larger rainbow, ageless yet providing a canopy of shelter. You have a way with words. press on.
your post," Signs of Spring" has really spoken to my heart. I have read it several times since terri'sand the Pope's death. Your rainbow is not only a symbol of god's promise to us but for me a sign of his everlasting covenant for Hope and Grace. I envisoned the smaller rainbow as terri and the larger as the Pope. God's message to us that they are home. The smaller more vibrate rainbow being terri, symbolizing her youth and the larger rainbow, ageless yet providing a canopy of shelter. You have a way with words. press on.
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