from psalm 104

You cause the grass to grow for the cattle,
and plants for us to cultivate,
that we may bring forth food from the earth,
and wine to gladden our hearts,
oil to make our faces shine,
and bread to strengthen our hearts.

We all look to you,
to give us our food in due season.
When you give to us, we gather it up;
when you open your hand, we are filled with good things.
When you hide your face, we are dismayed;
when you take away our breath, we die
and return to dust.

When you send forth your Spirit, we are created;
and you renew the face of the ground.

wedding pictures

The rain gave us the day off today, so we finally went through all the wedding pictures people have been sending us and picked our favorites. Here's a slideshow.

Thanks to our mothers, and Jim, Dave, Lydia, and Kevin for taking these for us.
(Click here if the slideshow doesn't work)

"to be nobody"

Some of the young interns from Reba Place were here for a few days this week to help out on the farm. And they were eager to hear about my experiences walking. It felt good to have them ask questions and be impressed by the answers. And having friendly visitors from a sister community reinforces the feelings of acceptance and at-home-ness that I've been experiencing as I contact other friends and communities and ministries that we will visit on our walk this summer.

But too much approval and acceptance begins to make me uncomfortable. It feels good, but it doesn't stimulate much growth (or keep us spiritually awake) and it can be a trap, causing us to confine ourselves to those circles where we are appreciated. To be resisted is more challenging. To be unvalued is more humbling. And I think following Jesus unavoidably leads us in this direction; if we're seeking acceptance and only going where they approve of us, then we will necessarily turn away from the path Jesus is on.

Looking towards the days ahead, I was reminded of the feeling of being on the road. Having good visits with friends and meeting new admirers, but then becoming a nobody, a poor stranger, an outsider to society, on the long stretches between those visits. I looked back in one of my earliest journals and found this entry:

The difference today was surprising. After all those discussions and all that encouragement—today, silence. It was like suddenly moving out of the spotlight and finding myself in complete darkness. I'm anonymous; no one bothers about me. I barely raise an eyebrow or two as motorists notice the oddity of a walker on the highway. No one asks for an explanation, so no one knows, and I just continue on my way in silence. It's a little unnerving. Because it's so humbling—to be nobody—but that is really a very good thing. I should not think I'm so important to God's plan that I have to be constantly used by him. If (when!) I disappear, the Way remains, the Truth remains, everything I've been pointing to remains and only one little pointing finger is gone. That's something I need to be continually reminded of.

awake

"Do not seek what you are to eat and what you are to drink, nor be of anxious mind. For all the nations of the world seek these things; and your Father knows that you need them. Instead, seek his kingdom, and these things shall be yours as well.

"Fear not, little flock, for it is your Father's good pleasure to give you the kingdom. Sell your possessions, and give alms....

"Let your loins be girded and your lamps burning, and be like men who are waiting for their master to come home from the marriage feast, so that they may open to him at once when he comes and knocks. Blessed are those servants whom the master finds awake when he comes..." (Lk 12.29-37)

I read this again the other morning and it stood out because Heather and I had just been talking intensely about being spiritually alive and awake. And I noticed that the verses that lead up to this last one address two of the main forces in human lives that spiritually deaden us: the all-consuming concern for daily needs or the lethargy of wealth.

I've written quite a bit about the way having an abundance puts us to sleep spiritually, trusting in the false security of material wealth. But now I'm becoming more aware that having little and constantly being concerned with providing for ourselves also tends to deaden our spiritual lives. The stress and unending physical labor captivates our attention and leaves us with little time or energy to focus on anything else. Jesus warns of these two things again later in Luke:

"But take heed to yourselves lest your hearts be weighed down with dissipation and drunkenness and cares of this life... But watch at all times..." (Lk 21.34,36)

The "dissipation and drunkeness" of wealth and the "cares" of those anxious about providing for themselves. Both weigh down our hearts and keep us from spiritual watchfulness.

Jesus' answer was the one he lived. "Do not seek what you are to eat and what you are to drink, nor be of anxious mind... Sell your possessions, and give alms..." Neither struggling to provide for himself nor gathering possessions around him for security. Poor yet unconcerned. That left Jesus' attention free to watch. To focus on his Father, who would both provide for all his needs and show him what to do for the kingdom.

Awake.

"he will keep your life"

I'm getting a little nervous with our walk coming up in a few weeks now. And it didn't help to see a front page Tribune story the other day about a young couple who were attacked and killed, without apparent motive. Not an image I want in my head, though I suppose I should admit the possibility. Then, this morning in church, we sang these lines (written by an acquaintance of mine from the Reba Place neighborhood):

I want to walk with you, Jesus
Show me the road and I'll go
I look to the valleys, I look to the hills
I look to the sky and I know

It brought to mind the beginning of Psalm 121, so I looked it up.

I lift up my eyes to the hills.
From where does my help come?


My help comes from the LORD,
who made heaven and earth.

He will not let your foot be moved,
he who keeps you will not slumber.
The Lord is your keeper;
the Lord is your shade on your right hand.
The sun shall not smite you by day,
nor the moon by night.
The Lord will keep you from all evil;
he will keep your life.

market day

It's a big market day today, with berries going to four different farmer's markets and many people coming here to pick their own strawberries and blueberries in the fields. And I'm feeling a bit disgruntled because my not wanting to get involved in the selling part of the farm business is just making me seem less helpful. There's no time for me to get into any explanation about it. There's just the pressure to come up with another worker and I won't do it.

It mostly makes me feel bad because I can't see how this is any good witness to people. And my trying to keep my work hours down and not push myself too hard probably doesn't look good, either. Maybe there's a better way to go about it. Maybe I'm just not good enough in enough ways to present Jesus' example so people can recognize and appreciate it.

Well, at least it keeps me from feeling proud. I remember Paul writing something about God's treasure in earthen vessels, but I think he meant something different. Maybe the better witness will come when God continues to make a way forward for us, though it looks like I obviously don't deserve it (which I don't). Then the message will clearly be, not that I'm a great or capable person, but that God is merciful and generous with those who trust in him. And who try, even if it's poorly done, to obey.

sights and smells

I saw a big wild turkey the other morning. And, later that day, a red fox zig-zagging away into the woods as I turned up the gravel drive, tires crunching.

The first blueberries have appeared, too, early this year.

Some other recent things I want to remember:

Fireflies rising from the wheat field at dusk. Hundreds of tiny lights floating up from the quiet expanse, its gold fading with the day.

Descending Acorn trail through the dark cool of the woods, splashes of sunshine brightening my way. The wavering chorus and insistant buzz of a thousand cicadas overhead, and then suddenly the heavy but precise chop of a deer's feet as it bounds up the steep ravine. I just see its flagging tail before it disappears into green.

The rich and heady smell of molasses date bread being kneaded.

Finding Heather alone in the strawberry field at the end of the picking day, her red peasant's blouse bent low over the green rows in the straw. Gleaning the day's sweet remains. At my approach she stands and looks my way, tall and slender and curious. The low sun catches in her hair and, recognizing me, she smiles.

"...which shall not be taken away from her."

Now as they went on their way, he entered a village; and a woman named Martha received him into her house.

And she had a sister called Mary, who sat at the Lord's feet and listened to his teaching. But Martha was distracted with much serving; and she went to him and said, "Lord, do you not care that my sister has left me to serve alone? Tell her then to help me."

But the Lord answered her, "Martha, Martha, you are anxious and troubled about many things; one thing is needful. Mary has chosen the good portion, which shall not be taken away from her." (Lk 10.38-42)

I read this familiar story this morning and it fit so well with recent thoughts and experiences. Martha's suffering is not the suffering that teaches obedience. It is the burden we lay on ourselves, pushing ourselves, exerting our own will (even if what we do is considered virtuous). Our own decision about what "needs" to happen distracts us from paying attention to what Jesus is doing. The oppressive feeling of weight on us is the sign.

Mary is free from the demands of what ought to be done. She is free from the responsibility of the moment. Jesus holds the moment for her, she is his.

But Martha holds the ethical high ground; she seems to have every right to demand Mary's participation, her back sharing the weight. Yet Jesus says that what Mary has found "shall not be taken away from her."

Shall not. Jesus suspends the ethical demand in his presence, will not let it be made oppressive. Mary has found the one thing, the one person, the One, who she can focus on without forgetting or neglecting anything important for her or for those she loves. (In Mary's choice, Martha also is served with what she needs.) And no one, and no circumstances, can take this away from her; no necessities exist for her when her attention is focused on him.

"The good portion shall not be taken away from her."

my will be done