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Breaking the eggSaturday, April 26, 2014
Psalm 118:21 How are the colors outside your window? How are the colors inside your soul? Bright? Pastel? Toned down? Jumping off the page? The rainbow lives inside light. Only when the light is "broken" do the colors come. Without the breaking, there's no red, no blue, no green ... A prism breaks the light, and there's the rainbow. I break an egg, and there's the yellow. God breaks me and suddenly, there's the core I came from. Getting to know this core is tricky; I may not have been there for awhile. How many angles do I have to entertain my self, distract my self, escape my self? Let me count the ways. Most aren't even recognizable by the entertained, distracted, escapee me. But I do lose track of the me God made. I break an egg to make breakfast. God breaks me to make me whole. John of the Cross calls this "breaking" the dark night of the soul. But it's not exactly dark. Thomas Merton calls it "luminous darkness," appearing to be dark only because it is so bright my eyes are blinded. In the silent dawn of Easter Saturday I remember something of the dark, and look ahead to sun. Both transcend hopes but are full of hope. They are both from God. Fifty days of Easter to celebrate your resurrection, Lord. To roll the stone away, day by day by day. To be surprised by your presence, and even the holes in your hands. To be known by you, and loved. How holy, how sweet are these days of Jesus-spring. |
The first week of Easter is ending. Outside in Illinois the grass is incredibly green, the daffodils are incredibly yellow, and the tulips are beginning to be incredibly red. A little rain has brightened up the already amazing spring landscape.