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- “Peace begins with a smile.” —Mother Teresa
Despite being in a pandemic, Advent has been busy.
One of the pandemic gifts is the realization of how many meetings can actually be covered over email. Not everything coming out of this pandemic is terrible.
Still, my study is in a state of disarray as I prepare for this coming week. Books on the floor, drafts on the desk, and clergy stoles draping over chairs--chaos is the best way to describe the spaces I occupy right now.
Despite the chaos, I wouldn't have it any other way. We are making our way towards the Incarnation--the event in history when the Love that hovered over the waters of creation takes on flesh and dwells in our midst. In Christ, we not only see peace, but we know peace. The Incarnation brings to reality, once more, that peace is ours if we want it.
When life gets chaotic, I need peace. Usually, this involves turning off the phone and putting on a record to get lost in the soulful sound of Mahalia Jackson or the blues of Townes Van Zandt. Music is where I turn during the dark days of December.
Except for today.
Today I went outside, and with the dogs, we walked in the woods. The ground was soft, the setting sun was comforting, and the dogs' saunter was enthralling. Though the park isn't wild, it is outdoors. It has its own uncontrollable way of being. It is creation. It is life.
I find peace watching nature be itself. The way the bramble weaves itself together to provide cover for critters. The pine trees stretching tall draped in the green gown of hope. When they are given some slack on their leash, the dogs sniff, roll, and romp in the glory of the prairie.
Wendell Berry was on to something when he wrote this poem, Peace of Wild Things.
When despair for the world grows in me
and I wake in the night at the least sound
in fear of what my life and my children’s lives may be,
I go and lie down where the wood drake
rests in his beauty on the water, and the great heron feeds.
I come into the peace of wild things
who do not tax their lives with forethought
of grief. I come into the presence of still water.
And I feel above me the day-blind stars
waiting with their light. For a time
I rest in the grace of the world and am free.
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