Reflect

Welcome to my little corner of the Five-Minute Friday community, where a group of dedicated bloggers link themselves with Kate Motaung and engage with a word prompt for five minutes... Just five. No editing, no revising - just a five-minute thought stream....

Today's prompt is... REFLECT.

GO --

We study light in fifth grade, reflection, refraction, and absorption. It's amazingly mathematical, the movement of light, bouncing off of surfaces at the same angle it bounced on (hmm...can you bounce ON to something?). Transmitting through objects and surfaces; emerging changed in predictable ways. Waves of light, measureable by height, amplitude, and length.  Resonating, vibrating. In synch and absorbed, never to be seen again, and out of synch - changed. There's science here. And numbers. Equations -- open and shut, done and done. Electromagnetic radiation -- those are the lightwaves -- the length determines the frequency which determines visibility. And here's the cool thing. Just because we can't see it, doesn't mean it's not there (yes, double negative intended).

And God said, "Let there be light," and there was light.

Genesis 1:3 (ESV)

Science and math can explain what it is and how it works. And the explanations are logical and satisfying. Opened and closed. Like visible light. Now you see it - it's easy to believe it.

And Jesus cried out and said, “Whoever believes in me, believes not in me but in him who sent me. And whoever sees me sees him who sent me. I have come into the world as light, so that whoever believes in me may not remain in darkness. 

John 12:44-46 (ESV)

Not equation. No numbers. Not open and shut, not done and done.

Jesus as light.

Reflecting from us, in acts of kindness, in compassion, in loving one another as He loves us...

Transmitting through us - our attitudes changed by Him, choosing joy, choosing belief, choosing hope...

Absorbed inside of us - Holy Spirit cocooned in our hearts, never to leave, dependable and steadfast...

Out of the darkness. Jesus.

And today - I leave you with a quote for our world - 

Darkness cannot drive out darkness; 

only light can do that. 

Hate cannot drive out hate; 

only love can do that.

Martin Luther King, Jr.

Peace in the Valley

Well, I'm tired and weary
But I must toil on

I held my uncle's hand across the top of his bedsheets. His fingernails, still slightly long, cut square across the tips of yellowed, papery-skin fingers. Cool to the touch in the half-light of his room.

Visiting time had been extended for us. For the family who flew, who drove, who came to be with him.

"He doesn't have much time."

Till the Lord, comes and calls me,
Calls me away, oh yeah.

His lips moved with the lyrics. No voice. The voice that used to call me in from fishing, that used to tease about card-playing, that used to tell stories of the old days -- that voice was buried somewhere in the pneumonia that gripped his chest. But his lips moved with the lyrics. And I felt him squeeze my hand.

Where the morning is bright
And the lamb is the light
And the night, 
The night is as fair as the day.

Family was gathered around his bedside. Gathered to offer strength and comfort. To pray. To visit with this, the oldest brother of seven. Some waited in the harsh light of the reception area. Some were on their knees in the chapel. I felt the closeness and company of all of them, and wished I could have come sooner.

There will be peace in the valley
For me, some day
There will be peace in the valley
For me, Oh Lord, I pray

No more sadness
No sorrow
Oh Lordy, no troubles, I see
There will be peace, in the valley, for me.

Tears. Mine silently sliding and falling at the side of his bed.  His shone like still waters on his cheeks, head propped on the pillow. His eyes were closed, but the lips kept moving. Kept singing. Kept yearning. I could feel the yearning.

No Valley of the Shadow of Death - this, but the Valley of Green Pastures and Still Waters. A Valley of Peace.

Come, everyone who thirsts,

come to the waters;

and he who has no money,

come, buy and eat!

Come, buy wine and milk

without money and without price.

Isaiah 55:1 (ESV)

My Uncle Norman died December 25, 2002. A son, a brother, a husband, father, grandfather and great-grandfather, he received the best Christmas present ever and entered heaven to be with Jesus. Today is Five-Minute Friday. The prompt is 'weary'.

Side Note: I wrote this story in a much longer version a couple of years ago - I think it does my Uncle more justice than the five minutes here. If you're interested, the link is Peace in the Valley.

Dance

Sierra, showing off some dance moves....

...praise his name with dancing

and make music to him with timbrel and harp.

For the Lord takes delight in his people;

Psalm 149:3-4 (NIV)

Maybe it's part of being a mom. I'm just not as interested in my own affairs, as I am in figuring out and enjoying my daughter. Or my husband. Or my dogs. Or just about anyone else who wanders into the orbits of our family solar system... yes, it's Five-Minute Friday and whatever comes into my brain is getting typed and sent out. Eeek!

It's true, though. I honestly am finding other people to be oh-so-fascinating. Maybe it's not motherhood, just a level of maturity... Yes, I can discuss an endless list of 'doings' and 'activities' - but they only touch the surface of this dance we call life.

Dance - it's the word of the day. It makes me smile. Images of my daughter, faithfully executing dance moves in front of the Wii - controller in hand, or tucked inside her zumba belt, riding out the dance on her hips. "It's my favorite", she laughs, as she follows song after song.

They are all her favorite. I've said it before - she's an equal-opportunity-type girl and this is a lesson she's taught me. It's not necessary to prioritize. How freeing is that? When everything brings joy?

I remember thinking of love as an unquantifiable. If you love, you love completely. You can't give just a little bit of love. It's an all or nothing kind of thing. Untouchable. Abstract.

Until you see it in action.

"Remain in my love." 

"I have told you this so that my joy may be in you and that your joy may be complete."

"My peace I give you."

What wonderful gifts!

What a life we live!

David danced his joy in front of God and his people. He danced out of sheer exuberance and into praise. I don't know how coordinated he actually was - my husband is also a warrior who doesn't necessarily 'dance' - my inclination is that David, dancing with all his might, probably looked a little awkward - at least in Michal's eyes. Michal who judged, right?

"Make a joyful noise to the Lord!" I was given the gift of grace when trying to keep up with a first reading of new music in the middle of a choir of music majors. Ergh! Notes, rhythm, words. How in the world did they get all three on the first go-round? The book says 'make a joyful noise - it doesn't say you have to sing it perfectly' - Grace. From the gentleman sitting next to me.

The point? I believe we were made to celebrate. To celebrate God, to celebrate life, to celebrate each other. We have options. We can stand on the sidelines and judge, or we can participate.

Wholeheartedly. Whole body - whole voice - with complete love, complete joy, and complete peace.

Everything can be our favorite.

Bacon Bacon Bacon

Today, I am excited to join a community of writers. A one-word prompt and five minutes. Now, what in the world to do with this:  BACON!

I read the word 'bacon' on the page and my mind goes right to that commercial with the low-camera following a dog on his way through a spotless, gleaming kitchen.

"I smell bacon..." The voiceover is an adolescent, voice-just-changed, emphasis-on-the-BAcon. And the dog's front paws slide out sideways as his rear end tries to keep up with the nose in the air and the tail wag. Excitement on both ends.

"Bacon, bacon, BAcon...." Voiceover enthusiasm intensifies until he finally gets his treat. His bacon-flavored treat. From loving hands in that gleaming kitchen.

Yup! Our family does the commercial every time we cook up some bacon. Which really isn't very often, but special, just the same. I'm smiling just thinking about my daughter, with her little bit of a Down syndrome accent...

"Mom! Bacon bacon BAcon!!" And she literally breaks into peals of laughter.

"It's my favorite."  Yup. Of course it is. Because EVERYTHING is her favorite!

Ya know, I wondered how this would work. Five minutes and bacon. How the words could somehow turn a 'pig's ear' into a silk purse....  (you know....)

Well, maybe it's not a silk purse, but I'm smiling, and it's early early. And these moments, these simple things, these uncomplicated memories are precious.

Aren't they?

My heart is not proud, Lord,

my eyes are not haughty;

I do not concern myself with great matters

or things too wonderful for me.

But I have calmed and quieted myself,

I am like a weaned child with its mother;

like a weaned child I am content.

Israel, put your hope in the Lord

both now and forevermore.

Psalm 131 (NIV)

So thank you, Five-Minute Friday community. Thank you for choosing this yummy word today.

I Have a Theory

Today is Friday; it is the day a community of writers set a timer, take a prompt and write. It is an opportunity to spill unedited thoughts across the blogosphere for better or worse. I'm working toward that five-minute limit; I can't seem to corral my thoughts before the timer dings. But I know this is a community of grace and encouragement, and blessed fellowship. The Five-Minute Friday links can be found here. They are always worth the time to read. Today's prompt? Green.

I have a theory about Fall color.

No, it isn't scientific. It isn't provable or quantifiable. It doesn't lend itself to experimentation. It really doesn't sit well in a world of measurement and precision.

In fact, it kind of leans toward the romantic. As in Romanticism. As in the art and literary movement of the first half of the nineteenth century -- with its emphasis on imagination and emotion as opposed to the Enlightenment values of reason and order. Yes, I had to look up the definition - thank you very much to the Metropolitan Museum of Art...

I adore the colors of Fall. I love to watch as the leaves turn, day by day, from deep, summer green to frosted tips of bright yellow and orange, to full-on sunbursts across the spectrum of warm - red, pink, neon brilliance. Just like Paris has it's fashion parades, the trees have theirs; and God, the designer outdoes himself. Season after season. Year after year.

Did you know that the colors we see are actually the reflection of the colors in an object? Light comes in waves. Objects either absorb or reflect those waves. The lightwaves that are reflected back to our eyes, are the colors we see. So when we call a leaf green, we are actually calling it by the color it does NOT contain, by the color it has reflected.

Interesting, right?

So, here's my theory about Fall color. We see green leaves all summer because the leaves are busy absorbing all of the warmth of the summer sun. Not just the warmth, but the warm colors. The reds, the oranges, the yellows. These are being banked, like a savings account, for the future.

And the future is Fall. These amazing colors we see, this cacophony of show-off brilliance, is that savings account.

It is the trees giving back the sunlight of summer.

But what if the future wasn't Fall, but was the future of God's Kingdom. The one Isaiah spoke about: the Glory of Zion? What if Fall color is God's promise to us, like the rainbow, of our future with him? God made the light. He made the trees. He designed the colors of Fall. Why not remind us of the day when He will be our everlasting light and glory.

The sun will no more be your light by day,

nor will the brightness of the moon shine on you,

for the Lord will be your everlasting light,

and your God will be your glory.

Isaiah 60:19 (NIV)