The Good, The Bad, and the Blessing

The Good..

I have come to the conclusion that — whatever you think about God, evolution, the universe, existence — we are truly allowed, as human beings, to experience extreme good and extreme evil, very keenly.

Yesterday, an older man couldn’t stop taking pictures of the poplars turning gold against a deep blue sky, with a rocky mountain ridge in the distance.  I thanked him for visiting us, and he approached me.

“You get to play here?” he asked.
“Yes,” I responded.  “I guess it is my playground.”

I flatter myself that however much this old fellow and I might differ on any number of fronts, (and we might not differ on any), we had this moment in common:  fall leaves turning color against the majesty of the mountains was a kind of common grace.  We all turn to each other and say, “look at that!”

A few moments later, a family with two small children entered the farm.  The father was what you might call “mighty.”  Broad shoulders, a thick beard, and a fatherly look of caution and even suspicion surveying the place.  When I welcomed him, (“You can order at the windows and eat inside the tavern or out here in the pergola,”) his look of caution softened and he smiled.  “Thanks, buddy.”  It occurred to me that he was doing what a father should be doing — making sure his family was in a safe place, and that he knew the order of events.  His wife was a classic, dark-haired beauty, and she conjured, in me, a reverie about the cycle of life: beauty, appreciation, love, birth, more beauty.  This picture left me wildly appreciative of God.  Dean Martin was singing “Silent Night,” and I took in a deep breath, trying not to cry like an old fool.

After that, a stream of families came in, and I assumed they were all the relatives of this first family.  The children were throwing their arms around each other.  The moms were hugging.  The dads were high-fiving.

Looking at the children, I asked the classic beauty mom, “are they all cousins?”
“No,” she said.  “We’re in the same home school group.”

Their joy in seeing each other, the effortlessness of it, parents and children both, made me wonder, in life, how many times I neglected this basic, necessary ritual.  Hug or no hug, smile or no smile, registering how much we value our friends is terribly important, and watching this explosion of common appreciation seemed to be another version of the old man’s golden poplars, a different expression of God’s incredible love for us — this placing of us in little villages of family and friends.  When you see two little four year old girls throwing their arms around each other, without any pretense, expressing the pure joy of being reunited, it makes you think this old world is worth fighting for..

The Bad..

The night before, mind you, I watched a chilling documentary about the conflict between Johnny Depp and Amber Heard.  Now, of course, no one outside a very private relationship (marriage) can really know — without doubt — what takes place inside its confines, but it left me wondering, “how many people in life have to deal with a conniving, self-seeking, vicious mate?”  Can you even imagine?  Someone willing to lie shamelessly about you?  Someone willing to destroy you, just for the money and attention?  I’ve seen enough true crime to realize there really are spouses who will kill their mates for the insurance money.  Can you even imagine?

Those people really do exist in this world.

The parade of corruption in our national life, the number of people willing to throw elections, defraud the taxpayers, and throw you in jail, or worse, simply because they have no God, a false god, no conscience, or no restraint on their own climb to the top?

The idea of having to confront one of these monsters, in real life, left me a tad despondent.  I went to bed, praying, “Lord a few good dreams tonight?  If possible?  Please?”

The Blessing..

After God, you folks are my therapy.  I spent the rest of the afternoon talking to a friend from the old country (Bath, England) and an Oak Glen regular who I joke about, telling people, “she was born here on the farm.”  Our friend responds “No, I was born again on the farm.”

Endure to the end, folks.  It can be punishing, but God gives us enough light, that we feel the glow from time to time.

Categorised in: Culture

This post was written by Jim Riley