these things I do...

These days are filled with acts grounded in love: not so much deep forethought as sincere affection and compassion for those I cherish. These days feel like the darkness. I know the vernal equinox has come and gone and the sun rises higher in the sky everyday. Still, so much is not clear. Wendell Berry says:

To go in the dark with a light is to know the light. To know the dark, go dark. Go without sight, and find that the dark, too, blooms and sings, 

and is travelled by dark feet and dark wings.

In another place he adds: 

It may be that when we no longer know what to do, 

we have come our real work,

And that when we no longer know which way to go,

 we have come to our real journey.

The mind that is not baffled is not employed. 

The impeded stream is the one that sings!

So I hang with a few trusted musical friends, teach elementary school children to play the ukulele, and hoist a brew in a local dive bar talking with people I've never met before like long, lost friends about what we might hold in common. I sing and play quiet songs of trust with those without ego as we share a common but still unspoken trust in the mystical presence of Jesus. I walk in the wetlands with my wacky dog, Lucie, and watch my loved one hobble through her pain towards strength. I cherish my children - and grandchildren. I pray for my beloved friends in L'Arche and my brother's eye surgery. I cook simple meals each evening evening, send a few emails during the day to stay connected, watch the evening PBS news with tears, and pretty much leave the all the rest in the hands of the One I know as Lord.