“I just think there has to be a Jesus, to say ‘beautiful’ about things no one else would ever see. The precious things should be looked to, whatever becomes of the rest of it.”Marilynne Robinson, Jack
Some beautiful things this week:
- Pools in BC require proof of vaccination and so each week, twice a week, when the girls have their lessons, I present my ID to sit poolside. This week the lady at the desk said, “I’m pretty sure I’ve seen this before” as I passed my phone under the plexiglass to be scanned. I don’t know why it gives me such great joy when strangers recognize me as part of their routine but it does.
- This mug celebrated its 45th Anniversary!
- My sister-in-law pointed out that on their recent visit we were able to sit inside together while our 4 kids all played happily outside without us. Not long ago that felt pretty impossible!
- This article from nytimes.com: The Dissenters Trying to Save Evangelicalism From Itself. The Evangelical Church, particularly in North America but worldwide too, I think, is going through major upheaval right now. We’re experiencing it for ourselves in our family. It’s painful but I am hopeful that ultimately it will be for good. This article pinpointed a lot of what I have seen and experienced. This particular quote stuck out to me:
I’ve watched a lot of evangelical Christians endure similar experiences. They’ve broken from the community they thought they were wed to for life. Except for them it wasn’t God that failed, but the human institutions built in His name. This experience of breaking, rethinking, and reorienting a life could be the first stage in renewal.David Brooks, “The Dissenters Trying to Save Evangelicalism from Itself”, nytimes.com
- Sunshine! What a balm it is. Monday was a day off from school for Pearl and we spent the afternoon at the park where they tossed their coats aside and ran around happily.
- And the sunshine has me thinking about my garden and the things I want to plant this year. Rose and I picked out some seeds and I’ve begun planning.
- This quote:
I know how lucky I am, stupid with luck, crammed with it, stumbling drunk. I wake sometimes in the dark terrified by my life’s precariousness, its thready breath. Beside me, my husband’s pulse beats at his throat; in their beds, my children’s skin shows every faintest scratch. A breeze would blow them over, and the world is filled with more than breezes: diseases and disasters, monsters and pain in a thousand variations…[my husband] sits with me in the green-smelling darkness, holding my hand. Our faces are both lined now, marked with our years.
Circe, he says, it will be all right.
It is not the saying of an oracle or a prophet. They are the words you might speak to a child. I have heard him say them to our daughters, when he rocked them back to sleep from a nightmare, when he dressed their small cuts, soothed whatever stung. His skin is familiar as my own beneath my fingers. I listen to his breath, warm upon the night air, and somehow I am comforted. He does not mean that it does not hurt. He does not mean that we are not frightened. Only that: we are here. This is what it means to swim in the tide, to walk the earth and feel it touch your feet. This is what it means to be alive.Madeline Miller, Circe