What it might be like to carry a king

Tuesday, May 31, 2022

Feast of the Visitation of the Blessed Virgin Mary

(click here to listen to or read today’s scriptures)

What it might be like to carry a king

So often it’s the little ones who close the deal. Kids see without the blinders of past experience, they see right past what to me looks impossible. Mary was chosen by the everlasting angel of God, but then she pushed ahead with the confidence of youth.

My soul proclaims the greatness of the Lord; my spirit rejoices in God my savior, for he has looked with favor upon his lowly servant.

Mary shouts out to her cousin Elizabeth. Behold the glory of God! Elizabeth recognizes it immediately.

How does this happen to me, that the mother of my Lord should come to me? For at the moment I heard your greeting the infant in my womb leaped for joy. Blessed are you who believed.

Mary might have been called an anawim, one of the poor little ones. She had no business carrying a king in her womb. But she didn’t notice, and she didn’t mind. She continued to see things through God’s eyes:

He has come to the help of his servant Israel, for he has remembered his promise of mercy, the promise he made to our fathers.

Go outside. Close your eyes. Turn your head to the sky. Imagine a big raindrop splashing down on your forehead.

Advice from a Raindrop

by Kim Stafford

You think you’re too small

to make a difference? Tell me

about it. You think you’re

helpless, at the mercy of forces

beyond your control? Been there.

 

Think you’re doomed to disappear,

just one small voice among millions?

That’s no weakness, trust me. That’s

your wild card, your trick, your

implement. They won’t see you coming

 

until you’re there, in their faces, shining,

festive, expendable, eternal. Sure you’re

small, just one small part of a storm that

changes everything. That’s how you win,

my friend, again and again and again.

 

Miles and Jasper helped Margaret and I trim some weeds and trees in the back yard. Gradually they moved to bigger and bigger tools. But then Miles began sweeping the dirt with an auto snow brush, and Jasper became fascinated watching the tiny ants scurry on the sidewalk after we shoveled away their hills of dug-up-dirt.

We kept up our work, and they kept up theirs. Like the raindrops, nothing else to do but wake us up and smile.

Today we’ll drive to Evansville and see family of many ages, and smile some more. Yesterday Andi took her family to Meadowbrook Park to visit with Toni, a friend she hasn’t seen for years, probably the first friend she made in Urbana, first grade maybe? Toni’s dad died a few months ago, not long after Andi’s grandma Angie died. Their sadnesses overlap. I hope this will make their visit richer, while the kids play at the playground or hike with Aki down a trail.

My favorite teacher and mystic, Jim Finley, said, “That which is essential never imposes itself. On the other hand, that which is unessential is constantly imposing itself.” This applies to daily conversation, playtimes at the park, and grief. He continues, “At times when you sit quietly, you notice the deathless presence of Jesus sitting with you. Then you can slow down and be taken by what’s beautiful even before you think about it. Your heart already recognizes the beautiful.”

God indeed is my savior; I am confident and unafraid. My strength and my courage is the Lord, and he has been my savior. With joy you will draw water at the fountain of salvation.

(Zephaniah 3, Romans 12, Isaiah 12, Luke 1)

(posted at www.davesandel.net)

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