Through Stained Glass: Advent Word a Day: Walk

 

Deer 1

Same spot, Deer 2 on my Sunday walk. I thought I was snapping a
photo of the same Deer! Instead, I got two different ones. 

After the sermon[s] are preached.

After the meetings are done. 

After the doors have been locked.

But before I read next week's Scripture.

But before I write the liturgy for Sunday.

But before I look at what meetings I have this week ...

I go for a walk.

A slow one. With Chloe and Tecumseh. In the summer, we go to Kickapoo. In the winter -- or on days like today -- we go to Madigan. And we saunter through the woods, sometimes on those made by us, most of the time wandering the runs created by the Deer. 

Today was special. The muted greens and browns created a softness felt not only on our feet but on our faces. The recent rain silenced crunchy leaves, and we could move almost as quietly as the Deer we were inadvertently chasing. 

Almost*

It never ceases to amaze me how quietly the Odocoileus virginianus can move so quickly and quietly through thick timber. I only know they are present because:

1. I see the flash of their whitetail

2. Tecumseh's body language changes -- a saunter becomes an urgent pace investigating everything! 

On Sundays, after the service but before it begins again, I head to the woods to listen. I walk with my trusty companions, attentive to their breathing and pace -- usually a slow trot, but always with their noses to the ground. The silence of the woods -- the singing of the Birds and the whispering of the Trees -- disrupts the narratives in my head. They bring me back to the moment -- to the now -- to the first incarnation -- the first revealing of the Holy Three's love. 

Today's Advent word is 'walk.' Of course, it comes from Isaiah 2: 

O house of Jacob,

    come, let us walk

in the light of the Lord!

In Illinois, we don't have mountains. We don't have any hills that could be confused with mountains. What we do have are Trees -- and Deer -- and spaces wide enough to see for miles! I guess that's why I go to the Woods with the Dogs. Because it is a way for me to take the prophet up on their invitation to walk in the light of the Living God. A walk in the Woods -- on Deer runs or marked trails -- reminds me of my part in this story we call life. Creation -- those Woods and them Deer -- remind me of God's longing: that we know wholeness. 

I think John Calvin was onto something when he wrote:

“There is not one blade of grass, there is no color in this world that is not intended to make us rejoice.”

After the sermon is preached

but

Before I write the next one 

I go on a walk and join the other creatures in the feasts of Creation.