There are two occasions when the sacred beauty of Creation becomes dazzlingly apparent, and they occur together. One is when we feel our mortal insufficiency to the world, and the other is when we feel the world’s mortal insufficiency to us.
- Marylinne Robinson
My old friend, the owner
of a new boat, stops by
to ask me to fish with him.
And I say I will - both of us
knowing that we may never
get around to it, it may be
years before we’re both
idle again on the same day.
But we make a plan, anyhow,
in honor of friendship
and the fine spring weather
and the new boat
and our sudden thought
of the water shining
under the morning fog.
- Wendell Berry
re-envisioning old hymns…rarely does this work, but Page CXVI does it so well…
We do not merely want to see beauty, though, God knows, even that is bounty enough. We want something else which can hardly be put into words—to be united with the beauty we see, to pass into it, to receive it into ourselves, to bathe in it, to become part of it … When human souls have become as perfect in voluntary obedience as the inanimate creation is in its lifeless obedience, then they will put on its glory, or rather that greater glory of which Nature is only the first sketch.
- C.S. Lewis, The Weight of Glory
Fairy tales, then, are not responsible for producing in children fear, or any of the shapes of fear; fairy tales do not give the child the idea of the evil or the ugly; that is in the child already, because it is in the world already. Fairy tales do not give the child his first idea of bogey. What fairy tales give the child is his first clear idea of the possible defeat of bogey. The baby has known the dragon intimately ever since he had an imagination. What the fairy tale provides for him is a St. George to kill the dragon.
G.K. Chesterton, Tremendous Trifles
it’s been a while since Disney has captured the magic, whimsy, and heart of there animated films from yesteryear (i.e. Pinocchio, The Lion King, Beauty and the Beast, etc.)…but, this little animated short “Paperman” suggests they may have found it again…
The Lone Bellow - “Teach Me To Know”….beautiful
not much longer and they will be big, i have no doubt….
here is what Jeffrey Overstreet, a fellow admirer, had to say,
I saw Zach Williams take the stage at the end of IAM (International Arts Movement) Encounter 11 in New York, and expected a warm and heartening concert to close out what had been an enjoyable arts conference. But instead, when Zach and his friends got started, it may as well have been Bruce Springsteen on stage. The place came to life with a huge, soulful sound that drew back people who had been headed for the doors. And then these conference-goers who had been sitting quietly and taking notes all weekend began tumbling down the aisles toward the stage and an impromptu dance party began. There was an unmistakeable sense that the Holy Spirit was in the room…
Sit and be still
until in the time
of no rain you hear
beneath the dry wind’s
commotion in the trees
the sound of flowing
water among the rocks,
a stream unheard before,
and you are where
breathing is prayer.
- Wendell Berry
another favorite musician coming out with a new album next week: From the Top of Willamette Mountain…simple and beautiful - true artistry.
the morning sun hides behind the clouded mist.
its futile attempts to greet me disperse in the cool damp air that meets my face
all looks grey this morning, except the autumnal leaves,
which speckle the air as colored clouds,
save for the stark, black, sinewy figures which hold them,
appearing suddenly and disappearing from sight as i move further along the coast.
a foghorn bellows -
heavy and lonely.
like the waves that roll in and roll back again,
it calls out for anyone who will listen -
to any ship that might drift passed its harbor.
all seems grey today - even the ocean has been touched,
and its water, once so clear and blue, is black, slippery oil
washing against the grey rocks on the shore.
all seems grey today -
but, somewhere, amidst the greyness that enshrouds this morning,
like the marbling leaves quietly breaking the monotony of fog,
i find peace -
i hear YOU whisper, between the horn, the waves, and the mist,
I AM…
even here.
