I am reading Wendell Berry and I realize something is missing.
I know for a while again
the health of self-forgetfulness,
looking out at the sky through
a notch in the valley side…
(excerpt: V, from Sabbaths 2000 in Given by Wendell Berry)
There is snow on the ground outside but the sun beams bright for the first time in days and here I am–stuck inside, staring at a computer screen. The world is melting.
I need chocolate.
The first thing I think of is the beautiful batch of dark chocolate brownies that Monica sent me all the way from Colorado. They arrived a couple days ago along with a book she wanted me to have, some homemade granola, a little bit of tea, and a smattering of her famous granola bars. I have been living high off the hog these past two days.
All because of this. This word: Sehnsucht. Because of this she says: We wander homeward together. Thank you for your companionship on the journey.
Nuke ‘em, she has written, by way of instruction, so I do and as I sink my teeth into rich yummy decadence I say a silent prayer of thanks for Monica and her friendship. It tastes good but these holes stay…I am a slice of swiss cheese–a moon made of it, orbiting my life, held by gravity.
Then I think of the tides. My mother-in-law watched a special on the moon the other day. Do you know…if it wasn’t for the moon, the earth would be covered by the sea? She tells me, among other things.
I think these things as I munch the brownie. And I know, this moon, this pock-marked satellite, must change orbit and change the tide of this day. Time to play outside.
So we go out, into the melting world. And boys discover what perfectly malleable snowballs the trickling snow makes. It’s piled on the street corners, bunched up around the edges of life. And the mom-moon becomes the target.
It’s cold on my neck and I run mad…laughing crazy, away from the snow-bullets until I make my own ammunition and this is wild joy, erupting from inside the holes of me.
I told her: maybe I should try to tame the sehnsucht…knowing what a foolish thing it was to say.
Keep it wild, girl!
That’s what she said.
So I run wild with all these God-shaped holes leaking joy out of me and an occasional snowball fills in the emptiness.
He always knows. But I don’t always listen. Maureen said it and got me thinking. Playdates with God, she said. And that’s what it is when I go outside to play.
How about you? How do you embrace the God-joy? Every Monday I’ll be sharing one of my Playdates with God. I would love to hear about yours. It doesn’t have to be outside. Maybe it’s quiet. Maybe it’s solitary. Maybe it’s loud and crowded. Just find Him. Be with Him. And come tell us about it.
Grab the Playdates with God button–the code is on the sidebar! A big thank you to L.L. Barkat for designing this fun button for me.
I’m a morning person and happiest in a place with no walls. Give me a bed of grass and a blanket-sky and I will dream deep in wonder. But a good story takes me to this place too. And a poem? Even better. You can always find me here. Or connect with me on on facebook, twitter, or pinterest.