For some there comes a time when a second chance is given.That time then becomes a celebration of the unrecognized gifts of the past and humble gratitude for the wonder of present.
This then is a collection of reflections and comments on life,work,love and faith to be sung ,and danced to, in thanksgiving for a second chance.
Friday, November 4, 2011
Lesson 47: Sometimes unforeseen storms are just what are needed to clear away the clutter.
“ You don’t need a weatherman to know which way the wind blows " -Bob Dylan
So who would of ever considered that a simple weekend respite would be changed overnight by the miscalculation of overpaid meteorologist? The Pilgrim’s prospective plans purposely and pointedly put off out of self-preservation. The pshawed snowflakes magically materialized into wind driven two feet of white wet blankets. Some found the weight too much to bear. It wasn’t just the leaves and branches that bent or snapped. No things ever stay the same.
Self-important businessman grumped at the bagel shop. The locals waiting to be warmed by a fresh hot java were surrounded by his hot air. The pompous protestor piously pontificated about the ineptitude of everyone…. forecasters flubbed, electric companies unprepared, politicians corrupted , the inconsiderateness of God and a requisite shot at Wall Street Occupiers who probably had something to do with his current state. No heat, no power, no shower…how dare he be inconvenienced like this…doesn’t anyone know who he is? Not really and nor did anyone care.
Embarrassed, the pilgrim slipped away in silence as the chronic complainer’s concerns recalled a scintilla of his own unspoken similar sentiments. He deflected,
“Where were Mother Nature’s favorites in all of this? “
Angelic footprints of faith-filled fawns were found marking their fearless passage in the virginal white 19” deep blanket .Some predawn feathered winged friend soloed a song of welcome to the morning just breaking. A few branches creaked as they cracked eventually finding the earth below scattering the rummaging nut gathering squirrels.
The all hallowed-eve cherub costumed confectionary collectors were tricked and the anticipatory celebration of treats would be postponed. A few souls departed to join those liturgically memorialized with a few saints, their intercessions unknown and interventions unseen. One million sentient beings believed they lost power. They only lost worldly comfort. They never realized the power they really had. The pilgrim wondered,
“Are faith, trust, love and mercy just words scripted between the lines in belief that their being written is the only needed proof of their existence? “
No rooms at the inns. Even the lowly stable had a “no vacancy” sign posted as it waited for the newly wedded couple to arrive while on their long journey of redemption. A once “Jedi-in-training” posted publicly his gratitude for Maslow’s first three levels being satisfied. Other wandering nomads commiserated their plights of their odysseys as the paths of the pilgrims continued to coincidentally intersect.
The first one and the other one there made for the coast listening to the three they admired most. The first one then bowed his head as he smiled reading cyber-spaced deliveries from concerned companions. The best offered shelter from the storm and a member of the band sent forth word that he safely made it back to the beach.
It wasn’t until the breaking of bread in the city of Brotherly Love that true gratefulness was experienced and he realized that home was not a place.