i had most of the day off, besides a class on radio etiquette in the morning. i took the small hike (maybe only a 1/2 mile?) to shoshoni point. it's a private point, not "open" to the public or marked on any map. so, in most ways, it's the only place on the rim in the national park that you can actually be alone. even most of the "locals" don't know where it is or how to find it. the walk up to the point was unbelievable - the canyon, in general, can feel like such a dead place. rock, sand, dust, dirt - erosion, hot sun, trees that look like crippled men and the faint smell of fire everywhere. this morning i was shown, and reminded of, the delicate balance of life and death in this place. there were moths - moths - everywhere. beautiful ones, dancing, fluttering - everywhere. along with the moths came the wild flowers that stood in an awesome juxtaposition of the dead-looking, and actually dead trees. as i was walking to the rim, i kept thinking about the idea of God giving us enough. the flowers, the moths, were just enough today - just enough life, just enough color. i think in pittsburgh i wouldn't have noticed them because there's so much life, water, color and green / but here, in this high desert, there's just enough color, just enough life, and water and shade - never too much. but always just enough.
every moment, i believe, carries the hidden possibility of a word coming from God. is there any moment, any event through which God does not speak? one autumn you see a flock of geese migrate over your house. you wake up to rain spattering on dark bedroom windows. you read a poem. a child reaches for your hand. you see someone on the street. you meet a friend in a shopping mall. and in the midst of them you recognize the sound and touch of God . . . or you do not. that is His gentle, noncoercive way of coming to us -- always coming. - sue monk kidd
What the awesomeness!
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