A Harvest of Quirkiness (by Bruce Sanguin)
how can creation sing your praises,
except with the red wings of blackbirds
flashing across blue sky,
and the croak and splash of frogs
playing hide-and-seek in the ponds?
How can the firmament proclaim your handiwork,
except in the wagging tail of a puppy,
and the focused attention of a toddler
soaking in the wonder of it all?
How can the heavens proclaim your glory,
except through a morning sun rising upon gold-green grass,
lighting up the face of lovers as Earth spins them
once more into a new day?
Your beauty and goodness, O Immanent One,
requires Earth’s diversity
and our own wildness,
breaking down – and out of –
the monotony of prescribed patterns,
choosing rather to take our place
in the dancing procession
the variegated life of Christ finding expression
in this body of the church
and the bodies of our kin-creatures.
Make a harvest, O Holy One,
of our quirkiness,
that we might be your radiant presence.
Blackbirds, frogs, dogs, toddlers – all unique, all quirky in their own ways. And our own wildness, our own uniqueness – being fully who we are with all our quirkiness is a way that we also can praise and give glory to God. A reminder to me, not to be the same as everyone else, or to conform, but to simply be me. And in so doing God makes a harvest – something good out of my life and the effect of my life as I radiate God’s presence, and my presence in the present.
Prayer: Change me O God into becoming more fully and completely me.