Watching the autumn garden fade and fresh green plants
return for another cool, wet season, it is easy to find ourselves
contemplating the celebration of the seasons.
We see the dyeing of plants and the dropping of seeds into the hopeful
soil of the future, when the glory of spring returns.
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| Hydrangea flower by Glee 2008 |
When Christ died at the hands of humanity,
the sun went away. And in our darkness
and grief, seeds of hope were planted in each living soul. These are the spiritual ancestors, in which
was born a faith that grows from within, reaching outward to find a garden of
life in which to grow. This loving
presence dies and returns in every moment and again with each lifetime, and it has
many faces. Like the endless variety of life in our biosphere, we cannot fathom the number of patterns in
which Christ returns. For me, this is
our connection to our earthly body. When
we travel and carry this message of love to one another, how do we stay
connected to the essence without suffocating continuing revelation?
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