Yesterday I took Janie out to the cross-country trails for a run. It was a glowery earthy sort of afternoon, and I felt restive from the day's thousand small vexations as I pumped my knees and started for the path in the woods...little suspecting the gift that lay in store.
Moments after we had lost sight of the trail entrance, the wind sharpened and the sky darkened, even as the air took on an odd lightness and began to prickle with thousands of sharp white flakes of hail.
The whole experience--the subtle sifting noises the hail made as it rained down on the husks of leaves, the bright sting as it barbed my face, and the sight of it twinkling white and lively in the drab and dormant woods--was both surreal and infinitely peaceful. I felt pleasantly bewitched, detached somehow from the ache in my chest and the burning in my throat, my thoughts disembodied from my earthbound self.
All that to say: Here is my answer to your question, Mary Oliver*
(*See January 10 post)
Every day I sense an enigmatic smile, a generous hand flinging riddles into my path that glint with their invisible meanings.
There is joy in knowing that the answers are there, and that they are true.
There is joy in the quest, admiring the craftmanship and masterful creativity invested in the fashioning of those intricate labrynths, seeking the answers through the clever trickery. Knowing that each time I reach in and grasp a glinting truth, I come a step closer to solving the Great Riddle of life itself.
There is deep satisfaction and delight in knowing that each puzzle is a personal gift from a wooing Lover, fashioned with ardent care, evidence of His love and desire. He watches me as I meet them and wrestle with them and react to them. He cares about my response. He is ever at hand to give me hints and encouragement.
And someday, with grand laughter, when He knows that I am ready, He will bestow upon me the Answer in its naked beauty and power. And it will be Himself.
What joy.
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