Jephnol

The lawnmower isn't quiet. Running along a stretch of grass bordering a salt-marsh, it rumbled, clanked and buzzed loudly enough to announce my presence a half-mile down the way. I pulled up to the edge of a bank standing two or three feet above the surface of the water and looked down on a muskrat hustling through the weeds. I stopped the machine and watched his progress. A muskrat making it's way through a salt-marsh is a pedestrian event around here. What was notable about this animal was how he was going about his business. He was corkscrewing his way across the water...just swimming and spinning. It took a few moments before he noticed me watching and stopped in a clump of reeds. I slowly moved forward until I was hidden by a bush on the water's edge, then I backed up to see if he had moved. There he was corkscrewing back towards where I was perched on my machine, oblivious to my presence. It was a good day to be a muskrat.

An adaptation of Asai Ryōi's floating world:

...living only for the moment, savoring the water, the reeds, the muddy banks of the marsh and the needles of the pine tree, swimming, spinning and enjoying simply floating, indifferent to the the vagaries of life, optimistic and carefree, like a seed dragged along by the current of the ocean.

I'm a man without status, wealth or power. Try as I might I'm not going to rise above the rank of sinner. Often when I come before the unblemished presence of God I'm covered in mud (so to speak), but I'm also covered by the grace of Christ. The only other thing I have going for me is the fact that I know who I am...what I am. I look in the mirror and I remember what I look like when I turn away.

In spite of my limitations God never fails to accept me. The experience of getting into the presence of God, justifiably expecting a whipping, only to sense the loving embrace of a Father, is extraordinary. By my reckoning I have a responsibility to pay forward what God has given to me.

God's love is mind blowing. Pass it on.

God knows my name. It's a simple idea, easily expressed, with significant implications. I was meditating on this notion the other morning, and later in the day I spoke of it enthusiastically with a friend. It's a wonderful thing to imagine; God knows my name.

That night, as I lay in bed trying to sleep, I found my thoughts becoming dark...challenging. I spoke with God of my fears, asked for comfort, then let my mind fall silent. The idle moment was disrupted by one thought: Psalm 91. The Psalms? My Old Testament is a little rusty. I turned on a light and collected my Bible to read from the psalter. These words lifted me out of the darkness:

Because he cleaves to me in love, I will deliver him; I will protect him, because he knows my name. When he calls to me, I will answer him; I will be with him in trouble, I will rescue him and honor him. RSV

He who dwells in the shelter of the Most High
will rest in the shadow of the Almighty.

I will say of the LORD, "He is my refuge and my fortress,
my God, in whom I trust."

Surely he will save you from the fowler's snare
and from the deadly pestilence.

He will cover you with his feathers,
and under his wings you will find refuge;
his faithfulness will be your shield and rampart.

You will not fear the terror of night,
nor the arrow that flies by day,

nor the pestilence that stalks in the darkness,
nor the plague that destroys at midday.

A thousand may fall at your side,
ten thousand at your right hand,
but it will not come near you.

You will only observe with your eyes
and see the punishment of the wicked.

If you make the Most High your dwelling--
even the LORD, who is my refuge-

then no harm will befall you,
no disaster will come near your tent.

For he will command his angels concerning you
to guard you in all your ways;

they will lift you up in their hands,
so that you will not strike your foot against a stone.

You will tread upon the lion and the cobra;
you will trample the great lion and the serpent.

"Because he loves me," says the LORD, "I will rescue him;
I will protect him, for he acknowledges my name.

He will call upon me, and I will answer him;
I will be with him in trouble,
I will deliver him and honor him.

With long life will I satisfy him
and show him my salvation."

"...living only for the moment, savoring the moon, the snow, the cherries in flower and the leaves of the maple tree, singing songs, drinking sake and enjoying simply floating, indifferent to the prospect of impending poverty, optimistic and carefree, like a pumpkin dragged along by the current of the river."

~Asai Ryōi

The car is parked just outside of Best Buy next to a pickup. In the back of the truck, tied to a cleat in the front of the bed with a short length of thick, nylon rope, sits a Pit Bull with a face the size of a dinner plate. His head swivels back and forth as he watches people pass, his expression communicating no emotion. His presence is the embodiment of the breed's reputation. The Bull is a rugged-built dog who gives the impression he's as likely to end a fight as he is to start one. People on their way to their cars or the store put a buffer between themselves and the truck and it's sole occupant. Some glance worriedly at him as they increase the distance between themselves and his assumed territory. Others seem to move away without even a look as they hurry past.

At the full length of his rope he's not an arms length away from the driver's side door of my car. I have no natural fear of dogs, but my first response is wariness. I'm offended by my own prejudice. Sliding between the two vehicles I look at his paws to keep from making eye contact and ask if he's a good boy. A gentle whine comes from his formidable mouth as he lifts, then drops his head and body in one quick motion. The dog language is unmistakable. He loves people. I look into his eyes and praise him. Lifting my hand I offer him the back of my wrist to sniff. Once more he whines, but this time he lifts himself up and towards me. He's a lover and he wants to be petted. I scrub his big head and scratch between his ears. With stoic appreciation he accepts my affection and watches for his master's return. That's a good boy.

In my last post I mentioned a field where I saw an air show. Yesterday I was in the field again and I saw something amazing. There were dragonflies hunting for prey in the open over the field. I started counting them but they moved too fast and there were so many it was impossible to get beyond fifteen without losing track, but I'm convinced there must have been hundreds. This is the first time I've seen such a concentration of dragonflies. It was quite a show and unsurprisingly, there wasn't a mosquito to be found. Wonderful!

Looking out over a field the other day I noticed the sky was a breathtaking blue and there were clouds drifting unhurriedly above the treeline. While I was taking it in a flock of ducks flew over the trees. Before they had disappeared a handful of swallows came diving and swerving, chasing insects as they passed. Behind them there was a small raptor of some sort doing its own business. Turning to watch the swallows pass over I noticed eight Loons coming in from over the ocean. They were so low I could see one of them cocking its head to look my way and adjust its flight so it wouldn't fly directly over me. I was blessed to be there in that moment. Naturally I watched The Birds the following evening. Very cool.

God sustains us with His promises. I was listening to Charles Stanley talking about this today and though I can't rekindle the kind of inspiration that Stanley brought to the topic with this post, the the idea is resonating in me. God is faithful. Trusting Him carries a lot of weight. Praise God.

So I'm thinking about shaving the goatee and the surrounding scrub on my face. Why I should blog about this I have no idea, but if this is the most pressing thing on my mind right now I'm not doing too badly.

The Patriots preseason is here! I'm watching the Pats v. the Atlanta Falcons. Go Pats!

T— left for home today. While she was here she purchased a memory foam pad for the bed she was sleeping in at C—'s. I've kiped the pad and put it on my mean futon mattress. Oh yeah. I'm feeling the love. I'm going to crash in style tonight.

T— was up from the Caribbean with AJ for J—'s wedding. I've been eating less recently, knocking off a pound or two, but last night we ordered Indian take-out. I was powerless to resist. I ordered a very hot, lamb Vindaloo. The spirit is willing but the flesh is weak. It was very good.

Raskolnikov is no longer the only bird to hit the front porch feeder. Yes, Red has been climbing on it and throwing seed all over the deck, but today I saw a Gold Finch sitting at the trough and I've seen a Hairy Wood Pecker on the feeder as well. Also, I'm sad to report that Jephnolovich is not looking like a new Black Capped Chickadee with slick feathers and youthful looks, rather there is a new bird in town. The news was bound to get out. Now Raskol will have to compete with a crowd for a place at the feeder.