KINDNESS IN CREATION

In the beginning, the elohim created skies and earth.

Welcome back. Let's think about God as kind.

I have been reflecting on God as love expressed in 1 Corinthians 13.

I wrote last time about the beauty in creation and how it can be perceived as a kindness.

For centuries people believed the earth and sky were created for them. Although we do not believe that any more, there is a way of experiencing the world that inspires poetry, that is revelatory, that acts upon us like a kindness.

Before, I wrote about kindness that occurs incidentally in creation. That is the kindness we perceive as we go throughout our day:  the deer bounding through the lawn, the squirrel nibbling on an acorn in a position that looks very much like prayer, the flight of pelicans over the sea, the bobbing heads of dolphins in the distant horizon, sunrises, sunsets, a storm approaching over a valley or an ocean, and other things of that nature. Through the course of our lives, as we breathe and move, the glory of creation touches us with grace.

Another kind of kindness would be what we seek. For instance, when we travel for a vacation or go on a retreat.

Once I pedaled my bicycle from Chattanooga, Tennessee to Bonham, Texas. The plan was to ride to San Francisco before my seminary classes started in September. I departed Chattanooga in May.

With five books, a camera, binoculars, a Sony Walkman, a radio that covered my ears like muffs, a journal, some pens, a tent, and normal riding gear I weighed more than my poor knees could handle after the first weekend. So I stood in front of a store and gave everything away except my Bible, Sony Walkman, and gear.

I sought kindness, without articulating it that way, and I found mosquitoes, rain, thundering eighteen wheelers storming past just a hair’s width past me, and kindness.

The beautiful valley of the first mountain I climbed in Alabama. Muscle Shoals. The loveliness of the Natchez Trace in Mississippi. The sound of cicadas in Arkansas’ rolling hills. Granada Lake. The rocky vastness of Texas.

After each hundred miles, I would be amazed I had pedaled so far. I would recount and reflect on what I had seen. For instance, I saw animals I never saw on Signal Mountain such as armadillos which looked so alien and comical.

When I go to the beach, I am seeking beauty that I know is there waiting for me. Well, I say I know it. When we speak that way, we are expressing our underlying and eternal connection to being.

If I fly to Hawaii or go on a cruise, I am exploring beyond the world I know. Sometimes I just see the grandeur of what exists and I watch it like a scientist, but there are profoundly spiritual times when I sense my connection to everything.

During those times also, it seems so much like a kindness is being done to me.

Blessings…