Unmasking His Glory

Lovely flights yesterday from Chicago through Heathrow to Manchester, along with a delightful drive north to Penrith, an ancient town on the northern outskirts of the Lake District, and from there to Lothwaite B&B out in the gows and fells of the civil world’s fringes. A gentle Danish couple, Jim and Tina, Mt Kili ex-guides from Tanzania, run this place with their two small daughters. We collapsed last night and did three things: slept, slept, and slept. All in that order. And now, this morning, browsed, bathed, and breakfasted.

I was aware of grieving the past lettings-go in these quiet moments. A solemn still-quiet settled in my spirit. An empty space preparing me to know it when I’ve deleted my completeds and face an empty slate. One of my readings I’ll share with you, but only so much as would be good for you:

“Unless we learn to grieve, we may need to live life at a distance in order to protect ourselves from pain. We may not be able to risk having anything that really matters to us or allow ourselves to be touched, oto be intimate, to care or be cared about. Untouched, we will suffer anyway. We just will not be transformed by our suffering. Grieving may be one of the most fundamental of life skills. It is the way that the heart can heal from loss and go on to love again and grow wise. If it were up to me, it would be taught in kindergarten, right up there with taking turns and sharing.” My Grandfather’s Blessings, p 145.

Later in this day: I’ve also enjoyed today the unmasking of God’s glory all about us as walked thru “the good land that I’ve brought you into, a land of brooks and rivers, springs and lakes, streams running out of the hills and down through the valleys…” Deut 8. He put his stunning artistry on display, encouraging us also to play, inviting our attention to stay—on Him. And so we did throughout this day, our first full day of Sabbatical. We’re counting on this being a preview of coming attractions, as we too let down, unmask, and become more clearly created in His image.   Below is a woolly look at a close to the ground part of us.

In this regard I was reading last night of a little girl who, in kindergarten, spent the day making Halloween masks with her fellow classmates. When her mother came to pick her up, she saw her mom looking in vain to find her, even though she was just right before her eyes. She burst into tears, took off her mask, and ran to her parent. Her mom consoled her child. But the child said, “Mommy, I knew who I was behind my mask; why didn’t you?” I wondered, how much do I know of me and thee, each of us securely tucked behind the masks of our own making? Lord, unmask your glory in me, and we, as you did with your more pliant creation of sheep, streams, and silvans. Amen.

Vance and Bethyl's new look

Gentling Yourself

October 6, 2010


           Today I walked about the neighborhood over 8 miles. Up and down across the rolling autumn farm fields with trees brightly lit in God’s borrowed glory. Wondering at His creativity; letting the peripherals of my existence blow off my limbs while I sink my roots into God’s soil.  Preparing now for leaving for England's sabbatical tomorrow.  Surrounded by the glory of His life within me and around me, I have enjoyed meditating on this poem from Derek Walcott, Time After Time:

The time will come

when, with elation

you will greet yourself arriving

at your own door, in your own mirror

and each will smile at the other's welcome,

and say, sit here. Eat.

You will love again the stranger who was your self.

Give wine. Give bread. Give back your heart

to itself, to the stranger who has loved you

all your life, whom you ignored

for another, who knows you by heart.

Take down the love letters from the bookshelf,

the photographs, the desperate notes,

peel your own image from the mirror.

Sit. Feast on your Life.