2024-03-13 11:36:55

2024-03-13 11:36:55

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Grabbing HoldGrabbing Hold

Lately I notice that crab claws seem to litter the beach.  The pincers look odd washing up on the shore’s edge, grasping and clinging to nothing at all.  When they were still attached to the crab, they were constantly in motion, holding fast to prey or reaching out and combing the sand for more to eat.  Now they lie inert and useless.  Is this a lesson for me, I wonder?  Do I spend too much of my time trying to ‘get’ things, trying to hold fast to what I have while acquiring still more?  Will my grasping hands be all that people remember, all that remains of my past?  Forgive me when I try to grab at the wrong things, when I’m unwilling to relinquish my hold on unimportant toys.  Help me hold fast to your gifts of grace and eternal life.  May I learn to open my hands and share your bounty with those in need. Amen.

Turtle TracksTurtle Tracks

 It’s sea turtle season on the island, a time when sea turtles come ashore at night, dig holes, deposit their eggs, cover the nest and return to the sea.  The eggs and the hatchlings are on their own from this point.  Now abandoned, the nests can be identified by the giant flipper trails of the mother and by the hurriedly covered nest, sand disturbed.  Various creatures hunt avidly for the ping-pong ball-like eggs, sometimes waiting for them to mature a bit and then gorging on an entire nest’s contents.  Raccoons particularly love to feast on the eggs, filling themselves to satiety.  A ‘turtle patrol’ group drives over the beach early each morning, hunting for nests and then protecting them with heavy mesh or wire.  Those who live on the beach are asked to extinguish all lights that shine on the water.  Hatching turtles break from their eggs on a night when moon light on the water reveals path to ocean access.  If there are conflicting lights, the tiny turtles may move in the wrong direction, deeper ashore, right into the jaws of waiting predators.  I think of ‘good light’ and ‘bad light’.  St. John speaks so often of Christ who is ‘the light of the world’.  But there are other lights—lights that lead us in the wrong direction, lights that are artificial and dangerous.  I pray, Heavenly Father, that you will help each of us recognize your light of truth and salvation; don’t let us be fooled by the false lights that lead us to peril.

 

The Gift of ColorThe Gift of Color

 The redbud trees are in bloom on the mainland!  I tell myself I can see them across the bay, though I know that’s not really possible.  I want to see them, and so I imagine I can.  They provide a splash of spring color that my eyes soak up, as if they were pink lemonade foam.  I think, as I look at the sky, the ocean, and the sand, of the gift of colors.  Perhaps those who minister in the church often wear black with touches of white because it’s thought bright colors interfere with our ability to focus; they distract us with their splashes of frivolous color.  But for me, the gift of colors is crucial. Colors remind me that our God is a God of beauty who wants us to see and appreciate the world He’s given us.  Colors are a remnant of Eden, a world made perfect and wholly good.  I thank you, God, for colors and for the delight they bring into our everyday lives. Amen.