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Sunday, February 26, 2017

RING DAY



     Eleven gathered around the "Waltons" table for 8, lovingly hewn by a proud and nurturing father from trees once tall and shady outside.  They towered over fort builders, bug collectors, flower pickers and giggling wrestlers and now horizontally host family dinners, and cover feet and dogs and sometimes hide and seek places. We celebrate life, my life of 53 rings, some spaced narrow through leanness of soul, and mind, but  most wide abundant years of joy and hope, laughter and hugs. Six of our spirited trees sit laughing, smiling, thinking; seedlings  or nutlings :) of  we,  the  knotted gnarled parents. Six holy mysteries growing in number and in strength, 31 years of sowing, growing, bending, impeding and pruning.  Not by parent trees alone but by Him who makes it all come together in a sapling grown  and growing to a tree of His own engineering.  His plan somehow included our fighting and agreeing, loving and wrestling, hating and endearing, parting and uniting in our wooden home in the pines. Soulless trees surround our sanctuary each knotted individually,  towering over the eternal seedlings  grown and growing in their enclosure.  The Vine Tender's formula too complicated to reproduce,  sprinkled redemption and grace, discipline and love, consequence and merit,  rejection and acceptance , nurture and famine perfectly.  These six trees have rings too. Rings,  evidence of mind, spirit,  and desires in famine or in flood. Somehow my rings and theirs correspond, but these are "things too high for me..." to understand.  Not enough time to spend on that, when there is more watering, tree hugging and admiring to be done.  The brown topped blue spruce  in our  window remind me time is short, rings are being fitted for fingers , for trees who will continue to grow in our place, souls growing here in the Green Street ring  of soulless pines.   

Ps 131:1b,2 Nor do I involve myself in great matters, Or in things too difficult for me.2Surely I have composed and quieted my soul; Like a weaned child rests against his mother, My soul is like a weaned child within me.…


2013