Kids you used to know grow up and become all kinds of things. 

Places you used to live . . . family members you rarely get to see . . . moss covered roof tops under a canopy of green remind you of conversations you had walking to breakfast with friends. Everything that was old is new. Everything that is new becomes old. It's a big circle. You keep seeing it from a different angle. But circles have no sides . . . no angles.

We used to sit around a fire for morning watch, teaching children to sing. And the other day we came around the side of the craft cabin, listening to a dear friend play Bach . . . looking at a cloud of witnesses. 

Right there, in the middle of everything beautiful, she got married.

My little sister, the most beautiful girl I've ever met, got married.

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Four years into marriage myself, I know about all of the beautiful ordinary moments of a married life. And so I see her differently than I did . . . my sister . . . moving around the circle, becoming someone new all the time. I see that love changes us the way that running water changes a rough stone - dragging it along the bottom of a river, smoothing it out, making it beautifully plain. It's what I hope for her - a whole life of the beautiful ordinary. Quiet adventures and loud silences . . . these things make all the difference.

Don't you think it's a privilege to be allowed to love other human beings?

It's the only prayer I know how to pray when nothing is right . . . "Love, Love, Love."

It's the best experience.

It's the best reason.

It's the only foundation.

Love.

I think that whatever good thing makes us live and move around the earth must be like a wedding. I always think of them, the Trinity, like the whole wedding . . . all wrapped up together in the light and the laughter and whatever is right. "See, I am doing a new thing . . ." 

I see the new thing. I see it everywhere. Do you?

Sometimes it's hard for us to see that God is doing a new thing.

It takes monumental effort to drag our eyes away from the distraction of a broken reality. I can't explain it better than that. 

We get invited to this wedding . . . this whole life . . . and the whole time we're there, we're thinking about not being there. No wonder we find ourselves so often unsatisfied with the experience.

Communion.

Community.

Love.

Peace & Goodness,

OLL

 

 


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