More than what meets the eye

On Earth…

This week, during a rainy, windy evening, suddenly there was a loud and thunderous noise. Jumping up to look out the window, the street and lantern lights made visible a blur of branches and leaves on a large oak tree as it made its way down to the ground. Thankfully, despite the cars traveling in both directions on the road, at the time, no one was hurt. Traffic ended up being re-routed and within hours the Department of Public Works pushed all the debris off the road so that cars could once again travel freely up and down the street.

Now, this tree had a very large limb dry up during months of drought in the area and in the weeks prior to this one, it had partially fallen away from the trunk. From the street, one could see it was resting on the ground while still hanging on, as if by a thread. However, it wasn’t until the remainder of the tree fell to the ground, that one could see the dried-out limb not only hanging on still, but also looking like a giant pair of legs, perhaps trying to run by or break free from the rest of the tree.

Today, taking in the sight that lies beyond construction barrels put into place to forewarn or keep back passers-by, but seeming more like a beacon calling forth, it’s interesting how these legs and their trunk appear so much bigger than they seemed when the tree was standing tall. It seems there’s so much more to discover about them now that they are down to earth, unmasked in a sense. Their depth, their breadth, their character, shine brighter than before… legs posing as if in an athletic move of some kind or another. Are they coming? Are they going? Maybe they’re doing both. Or, perhaps, it’s a maneuver, careful to resist trampling the branches and leaves all around them.

Shifting focus, fallen branches spread about, pointing in many ways; some with shriveled, brown leaves holding on, and then others with green or yellow leaves, holding on as well. Common ground on the ground, connected at the core, together. Next, a splintered trunk displaying hearty, woody layers that, though broken, still look fresh and full of life.

Imagine now, all these things once hidden, or less likely to be noticed, now laying on or partly resting on the floor, as if drawing closer to one another, to reveal an image not of heaven, but of faith on earth.

My help comes from the Lord, the maker of heaven and earth. – Psalm 121:2

More Than Words…

Oftentimes there is so much more to any story or situation than what one may initially see, perceive, or be told by others. While sometimes, we not get a chance to see beyond the surface for ourselves that is not an excuse to avoid trying. In any situation, both divinity and humanity call us to dive deeper, seeking truth and compassion rather than assuming.

When Mary and Joseph brought Jesus for presentation in the temple, as was customary according to the law of Moses, they encountered Simeon and Anna, two older people who seemed to have more than knowledge, who professed understanding of who this infant before them was and what the future would hold for him and the family. One can only imagine what it must have been like for Mary and Joseph to hear the words of Simeon and Anna, especially, Simeon’s words. He blessed Jesus as Savior and “a light for revelation” and “glory” for God’s people (Luke 2:32). Not only that, but he said to Mary, “Behold, this child is destined for the fall and rise of many in Israel, and to be a sign that will be contradicted” (Luke 2:34).  If that was not confounding enough, he told Mary, “and you yourself a sword will pierce so that the thoughts of many hearts will be revealed” (Luke 2:35).

As we go through life we all experience times of being told information by others. The challenge is figuring out what to believe. How we decide what to listen to and what to dismiss is key. How did Mary, Joseph, Simeon and Anna decide?

Perhaps even more significant, is determining what, of that which is spoken, is one’s business, or what is truly worth one’s time?

Mary and Joseph had already been told by Angels, messengers sent from God, that their Son would be God incarnate. They did not know exactly what that was going to mean or specifically what it would entail. Simeon and Anna both had been waiting for the birth of the Savior. Simeon had been told by the Holy Spirit that he would not die before seeing the Messiah. Surely, Anna, a prophetess, who worshipped day and night, also had been told comparable news along the way.

Mary, Joseph, Simeon, and Anna, were individuals, and unique as such. While they pursued the same goal, to live in faithfulness to God, the way they went about being faithful was likely similar, but not identical. They were four people who experienced and had come to know what many people would consider unbelievable, or fantasy. However, with what they shared, as many before them, as well as after them… with great faith in and devotion to God, and through continued prayer, they were able to know which Voice to listen to and which ones to tune out—examples worth emulating.

Trees

Waiting for the Dough…

I recall being surprised as a child, the first time I observed pastry dough and a particular pastry being made from scratch. To start the process, some warm milk was added into a bowl that contained yeast. Just prior to the water being added, I remember curiously smelling the yeast and turning away as the aroma hit me. I found the odor rather offensive.

I also found myself impatient at having to wait for the dough to rise. Why did we have to wait so long? And how could yeast, having such a bad smell, possibly make good dough? As a child, I did not know any different or understand the process. However, I had a desire to learn and as I followed the process from start to finish, I was thrilled with the end result—Ka’ak! A family favorite enjoyed with a cup of tea or coffee.

There were many steps in the making of this Lebanese sweet treat and each of them seemed to take so long to complete. I remember the pleasant smell wafting through the house as the dough and the dipping “sauce” cooked. There were hours from the rising of the big batch of dough to the second dipping of each piece into the sweet milky liquid that would provide both a glaze and a sweet mild taste that lingered ever so gently with each bite.

As a child, it seemed like a painstaking process, taking an eternity to get to taste a piece of Ka’ak. All those steps and all that time though, were necessary, and the wait always ended up being worthwhile… the taste heavenly.

Sometimes it can be hard to wait, and perhaps even harder to trust that what’s happening, or not happening now, is part of the process. It can be difficult to believe that what may seem unpleasant or far less than ideal may need to occur along the way in order to get to a sweeter place.

One must remember: There is no sense in trying to bake the Ka’ak before the dough rises.

WaitingForTheDough