We’re Not an Island
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When I drive over the bridge to the mainland, I am reminded that island life makes it easy to see ourselves as separate, remote from the “mainland of humanity”. Sometimes it’s tempting to make the bridge an ideological divide and not a way of joining land to land. Forgive me my arrogance in thinking I can leave the world’s problems behind me, that I can escape to an island. We are all connected, if not by bridges, then by shared needs and demands. You have insisted that we love one another, no matter how disconnected we may seem. Please, Lord, help me stay connected with others so that I am never disconnected from you. I pray that you direct me not to hide behind bridges, but to maintain and reinforce them with the girders of your love.Related Post
Night ComesNight Comes
At this time of year, night seems to descend on the island differently than elsewhere. Like a worn quilt, the sky first has only thin places, worn spots that appear to have been rubbed against by giant ankles or elbows, places where the sun shines—barely. As if suspended, the quilt hangs heavier and heavier, weighted by the stars that begin to pull id down, down, slowly until there is more darkness than light. Sometimes, dear Lord, I reach for you and find a hole where the fingers of faith quickly connect. At other times, I reach into something thick and furry, unable to find you, to touch you. When that happens, I depend upon others to connect me, others to raise my name in prayer, others who lift me and my situation. Perhaps I break through to you because of old, memorized bible verses or hymns that appear in my mind, illuminating the darkness. Thank you, Heavenly Father, for the beauty of night but more importantly, thank you for the beauty of your light-filled presence no matter how deep the dark. Amen.
At this time of year, night seems to descend on the island differently than elsewhere. Like a worn quilt, the sky first has only thin places, worn spots that appear to have been rubbed against by giant ankles or elbows, places where the sun shines—barely. As if suspended, the quilt hangs heavier and heavier, weighted by the stars that begin to pull id down, down, slowly until there is more darkness than light. Sometimes, dear Lord, I reach for you and find a hole where the fingers of faith quickly connect. At other times, I reach into something thick and furry, unable to find you, to touch you. When that happens, I depend upon others to connect me, others to raise my name in prayer, others who lift me and my situation. Perhaps I break through to you because of old, memorized bible verses or hymns that appear in my mind, illuminating the darkness. Thank you, Heavenly Father, for the beauty of night but more importantly, thank you for the beauty of your light-filled presence no matter how deep the dark. Amen.
Pine PollenPine Pollen
It’s pine pollen time on the island! Though I rarely see the yellow particles in the air, I can readily identify their presence on everything left outside—tables, beach shoes, chair, and our car. All surfaces are coated with a fine yellow film that makes some cough and sneeze. Once I saw the wind dislodge clouds of pine pollen, setting drifting across the bay though usually it’s invisible. Despair and depression can be like that. Individual causes may seem minor, but soon they accumulate and coat everything that should be shiny and bright. Suddenly the world is dulled in despair and hopelessness. Please help me, O Lord, to shake myself free of this choking coating so that my enjoyment of the life you’ve given me is not clouded by the accumulation of problems and worries I’ve let pile up. Help me to breathe in the breath of your life and your love so, like the pine pollen set adrift over the water, I am free to be joyful in your presence. Amen.
It’s pine pollen time on the island! Though I rarely see the yellow particles in the air, I can readily identify their presence on everything left outside—tables, beach shoes, chair, and our car. All surfaces are coated with a fine yellow film that makes some cough and sneeze. Once I saw the wind dislodge clouds of pine pollen, setting drifting across the bay though usually it’s invisible. Despair and depression can be like that. Individual causes may seem minor, but soon they accumulate and coat everything that should be shiny and bright. Suddenly the world is dulled in despair and hopelessness. Please help me, O Lord, to shake myself free of this choking coating so that my enjoyment of the life you’ve given me is not clouded by the accumulation of problems and worries I’ve let pile up. Help me to breathe in the breath of your life and your love so, like the pine pollen set adrift over the water, I am free to be joyful in your presence. Amen.
I planted a flat of pansies today, eager for spring’s splash of color in my heard. The island consists entirely of sand and oyster shells, so maintaining soil is difficult. I try to add topsoil, but it filters through the sand and vanishes. I must work at growing flowers on the island, digging, replenishing, fertilizing and watering.