Sabbath Day 5
Resting is so hard...I don't know how. Today felt very frantic and busy. I have lost five pounds and shaved my Kevin Rains memorial beard. My 2 day trip to San Diego was good but one day too short. I felt that I had to leave as soon as I was breaking through. I will try to get back to where I was tomorrow. I did get to hang out with my new friend Jason Evans. You can read his blog...
I will try to refrain from anything close to a revelation until next year, but here is a journal entry from 2 nights ago as I sat alone and wrote my passing thoughts while meditating on the patio of a seafood place, eating Mahi Mahi and pondering the bay and the people passing by:
I'm sitting alone in a romantic restaurant on the San Diego coast...That would be a great opening line for a country song, except that this is exactly where I want to be.
The water ripples to prove that there is a wind that my face cannot feel.
From where I sit, I can see only one star, but I can hear three different languages.
I'm starting to feel that romance is unique to the human experience. It is not a lie and yet not quite a blessing. Just a mystery...Romance is a great human mystery...unless it is a Divine mystery that has somehow leaked onto us from above.
Of all of the manmade eyesores pushed against and into this harbor, one is most repulsive. The industrial plant seems evil tonight.
We are all deathly afraid of the dark. This would be such a scary place without the gas lamps and flickering candles.
The waters whisper to a traveler that there is peace a mile deep just one inch below the chaos.
Of all of the vile pollutants we have unleashed on the earth, nothing is as deadly or insidious as our constant rediculous noise-making.
There is something magical about the surface of the water that seperates us from the fish. We can fairly easily, though often inconveneintly, go to visit them whenever we want. But they cannot climb out to look at us. I wonder if there is a magical surface that seperates us from God...Perhaps it is the sky? No, it can't be...it must be something of a different dimension than what seperates us from the fish...could it be time? Yes, it might be time. We cannot climb out of time because we breathe in time just like the fish breathe in water. But He can come to see us...it would be as easy (and inconvenient) as me standing up and jumping into the bay. This is, of course, incarnation. To a fish it is a miraculous intrusion into aquatic history. To me it is exactly the opposite of a miracle. It is the humility of jumping off of a perfectly dry pier.