It was the intention of a modern artist, poet, photographer, essayist, with timid and sometimes turbulent reserves of youth lived within a prelapsarian world of natural forests, irregular hillsides, shallow yet swift brooks and streams leading to the deep and wide river. These were days of Bible verses and blue skies and fluffy white clouds and climbing trees and getting lost in the woods, and wishing that the sun would never go down and running around lost in some beautiful game of make-believe, running around laughing, laughing and hoping. How wonderful those moments were! Surrounding this time was a beautiful envelop of admonishments to be Christ-like, to be good. This instruction was delicate, gentle served with warm freshly baked cookies and glasses of milk. Here were examples of both Christ’s goodness and holiness to observe and to learn. This time was never lost, the power and the grace of those days continue to burn, to keep the darkness, emptiness, and loneliness of sin away. And life pulls us away and then pushes us into God. Those lessons from our youth will return to us as we try to translate current thoughts and concerns. Here lives and grows both the tenderness and gentleness of the heart and soul. Here is a fervent love for social justice and mercy! Here is a mystical sense of trust beyond the immediate and concrete. Here whispers the eternal language of love and salvation!
Each day I encounter hope and sadness, witness despair and kindness; urban living presents the human condition completely unvarnished without sentimentality or generosity. The pain and suffering of our neighbors is often displayed as if for the amusement and entertainment of others. My heart rejects this view but is sometimes overwhelmed by all that is seen and heard, but the fatigue I actually feel directs me to prayer.
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