finding

sometimes God speaks to us on a bumper sticker.  on a license plate.  in a poem.  in the light at the end of the day. in a painting. a song.  the smell of the sea on a day you needed it more than anything- its salt and its calling. sometimes it's in an orchestra of things all together- the ocean, the light on the water, the feeling of the cool sand on your feet, the pungent smell of dead things and seaweed- the sound of the gulls and the crashing water- the rhythm of it's pulling and pounding.  God is everywhere- how often we miss her.

in today's reading buechner talks about needing a word in a time of great trouble and a truck driving past him with the license plate 'TRUST'.  i remember driving madly to zoe's psychiatrist once when her meds weren't working and crying and seeing on the car in front of me the bumper sticker "walk by faith, not by sight". it was a time when what i saw terrified me. when walking by sight caused me to trip and fall and cry- but everywhere i looked- all i could see was what i saw.  my faith was tucked behind, my faith was hidden behind the mess i was looking at.  then i saw that beautiful reminder and i knew how i needed to walk. i knew that i needed to close my eyes and walk.  to be bold. to let go. to stop fearing and start trusting- because faith chooses to know that someone else is in control, that we only see part of a whole- that we are small, so small and held, so held.

i've been looking back on my life. on my year. especially because i do that when one ends and another one begins and my computer was down so i picked up the words of another who was reflecting on some of her years and as i read, i began to cry because i could feel my own absence.  i could feel my lostness and my forgetting. it was God speaking those things to me through her words.  it was God getting my attention and saying- i'm here. wake up. come home.

as i read i began to remember.  i began to remember who i was and in the remembering i became so aware of things i've forgotten. some things that may seem small and unimportant but that matter.  things that were part of me- that brought joy -carnal things- like tasting peaches and really good cheese and cooking and caring for each other with good meals and the time and attention of preparing and eating.  i have lost this here- this part of life has become for me unnecessary and expensive and hard to do, but behind it, is me lost and skinny and eating whatever is easiest, just getting something on the table.  but i'm missing God in the figs and balsamic. i'm missing sharing that bit of creation with the people i love.  and it extends out -it's metaphoric-  i'm missing some of the passion, i've forgotten the joys in the small moments- in the goodness of life.

there are ways that i have lost myself this past year in the hardness.  that i have been swallowed up by what is in my sight, walking in that line of vision, not in the expanse of my faith.  and it has become narrower and narrower and suffocating and tasteless.  that is not who i am.  that is not where i want to be. so today....

today is my birthday. today i get to start anew. today i get to begin again and it started early with me breathing into the dark of my morning- help me find myself in You this year.  because that is enough.  that brings the taste- all of it.  sweetness and salt and bitter and fullness- it brings renewal and redemption- it brings life back into the corners that have collected dust.

so i will try to be here. still. today. to taste my days. to savor small things. to appreciate. to listen. to wait. to hear and see and smell and taste the goodness of God all around me. and to remember who i am, to close my eyes and walk in the wider place of faith. and to eat something besides a samosa.