Thursday, April 3, 2014
Perambulations:the turkey and me
The smallest bird is at the birdbath,sipping daintily.It is a brown headed nuthatch and in a flash, he disappears.The wren is calling, the squirrels busy and the male turkey, who now deposits black droppings around the yard, has finally left.Now, I can go and see my "coming up" garden.I wait 'til he leaves because I don't like the way he gives me the eye when he sees me.The other day, he saw his reflection in a neighbor's glass front door and the tapping sounded like gun fire.No dainty nuthatch is he.
He drifts in and out of the woods, this neighbor of ours, up to our yard and then I hear him gobbling in the woods to my left as he wanders the floodplain all day.His gobble is startling.Yesterday, I made him do it with a cheap imitation of my own.He, however really knows how to sound off, with his head and neck stretched out and drool coming from his mouth.He means it.
Today was Bible study again and I wish I knew years ago half of what I know now about the Old Testament.It is almost comical to track the chosen people as they wander, find Canaan, leave that place, face exile ,return and get snatched up and dispersed again.All because they haven't a clue how to be faithful and obedient to God.
Their wanderings speaks to me of my own.That walk over the bridge in Queens, leaving the Church behind.The finding an answer to my hollowed out center.Turning from God when He seemed distant.Doing my own thing, emptiness, returning, then malaise and turning .The only time I have been anchored and steadfast in my faithfulness to God is when I have committed to a structured prayer life.This is one of the reasons I retired early.Priority.
Long ago,I read an article that changed everything.The author was shown in a drawing, resting in an easy chair, eyes closed, in prayer.She said that she did it every morning for an hour and that her life was deeply altered.She looked so peaceful so I tried it.I still have that article,I should write to the author and thank her.
I see a small red boat in a cove off the coast.The wind is picking up and the only thing that holds it steady is the heavy iron anchor beneath the waves.The boat moves here and there but in one place.Nowhere near the rocks out further.There are so many voices in that wind that say go here, do this, wander over here, this will make it good for you.But the center, the quiet, calm center, that has been attended to for years by prayer, holds.