I enjoy walking to and from work.
Maybe not so much when there's snow and ice on the ground... after all, this is Iowa. And I have the structural integrity of the elderly ladies whose medical records I file away.
But walking... the act of it is multifaceted to me. It is the exercise I don't get nearly enough of. It is (usually) quiet and peaceful. It's an occasion when I enjoy turning off the thoughts that may race through my head - and instead, look around me.
It was said that one never wanted to go about a leisurely stroll with Tolkien. He liked to stop and look at each plant and tree he passed, pondering the meaning of its name and the strange beauty of it. I should dare say he and I were made of the same stock.
I will admit though, lately it has become rather difficult to maintain such attentiveness to the world around me. I can become very focused on where I am not yet, keeping my eyes ever forward to the great distance I have yet to make up for.
Why do we find ourselves trading sacred moments and practices for compulsions of control and hurried hearts?
One might venture to say we crave lives of busyness to distract us from the now - and I know of some this concept may apply to.
But for my own part (and perhaps yours too?) - I wonder if we give in to this driving force simply because it's what we're used to. Maybe we feel like we don't have much of a choice.
~~~
It is autumn in Iowa, and there are now countless thousands of leaves which have been sprinkled across the face of my town. Many of these end up underfoot. They are rather stunning in their own right - and on occasion the sheer brilliance of the bright colors is enough to catch my eye. It forces me to stop.
Yesterday possessed such a moment.
While my gaze rested upon the most radiant of reds, I thought to myself, "Wouldn't God have created leaves to wildly carpet the earth, rather than be rounded up to burn?"
You see, friends - we are taught that there is no other option. We are told that the only fate allotted to such beauty and goodness is fire and destruction.
Now of course, all things in this world will meet their earthly end - and some endings undoubtedly appear more redemptive than others.
But Tolkien himself well understood the importance of beholding and preserving Truth, Beauty and Goodness in this world. For as he spoke of "fairy-stories",
"The consolation of [them], the joy of the happy ending... is a sudden and miraculous grace: never to be counted on to recur. It does not deny the existence of dyscatastrophe, of sorrow and failure: the possibility of these is necessary to the joy of deliverance; it denies (in the face of much evidence, if you will) universal final defeat and in so far is evangelium, giving a fleeting glimpse of Joy, Joy beyond the walls of the world, poignant as grief."
(J. R. R. Tolkien, "On Fairy-Stories")
~~~
So what are we to do with what visible grace crosses our path in this world?
Cherish it. Protect it. Pause to soak in the sweet wonder of the world we get to be a part of.
Our minds can relinquish their anxieties and anguish for a moment in time. We can set headlines aside - mute the hurried, worried thoughts and learn to exist as created beings in a world held by a loving Creator.
It is possible to be still.
It is possible to be held while we have nothing to hold in our own hands.
He does not ask of us to offer anything - but to come.
Sit.
Be.
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