Tuesday, August 15, 2006

Random Thoughts While Pulling Weeds

You know how a tune gets into your head--maybe you heard it at the supermarket--and stays long after its welcome has worn out? Well, today the following came unbidden to my brain:
"Oh Godhead hid devoutly I adore Thee, Who truly art within the forms before me", and decided to stay. No, I didn't hear it at the supermarket, and no, I'm not off my rocker. I'm pretty sure it's a hymn we had to learn at school. I wasn't kidding about those nuns, even now, forty years later. It came early. Stayed through sweeping the garage. Still there after washing the car. Clouds prompted me to go pull weeds. I wouldn't do that in the middle of a sunny day in August, unless I wanted to blister my brain.....The words continued to dance in my head as I weeded around the mint and the tarragon, heavenly smells!---badgering me to think about them.

"Oh Godhead hid devoutly I adore Thee". If anyone asked me "Do you love God?" I would answer unhesitatingly "yes". [That there is a God is a given for me.] How could you not love the Being who made the world so beautiful? I guess it would be harder if I lived in the Middle East and my family got blown up by terrorists......But I don't, and where I'm at, I'm counting my blessings.

"Who truly art within the forms before me". One of the 'forms before me' was a particularly vigorous weed that thrives in these parts. Called a weed, it was, in fact, a thing of beauty, sending out branches from a central stem, like spokes of a wheel. It had a tiny flower that would fit on the head of a pin. I could see, on really close inspection, that it was actually made up of several little blossoms clustered together.....

I think of other forms in which I see God...my children; their children; the wild flowers that hide among the trees out back; the way a mother bird knows exactly how to prepare her young for life on the wing; the amazing way bamboo grows and spreads, and how it provided such great cover this spring for the quail and their [at least fifteen] utterly adorable babies; the ominous clouds building for the afternoon thunderstorm .......

My boys are gallivanting around the country this week and so I'm alone. With the cat and the birds, the weeds and the random thoughts.........

1 comment:

Lukey Barlow said...

Oh how I wish my mother were still here so I could read your writing to her. You have exactly the same delight in the little natural things, exactly the same sense of fun. And reverence. No wonder I like you!