I'm slow. So slow, in fact, that today is the first time I checked Seeing the Moon blog. I feel deeply disappointed in myself for not checking earlier; at the same time I recognize cognitively that this trend might continue. Sigh.
The summer flies by like an albatross, bothering not even to put its feet out. The illusion of stopping for a moment would deceive no one. And the wind blows so well and so high that pausing seems like tom-foolery. Yet drifting on the cool courses of jet-stream brings its own serendipitous serenity. When you get far enough away from the surface of the earth, things slow down. The whitecaps become flecks of dust lolligagging around a smooth blue calm.
Vegetables explode (especially that squash), Japanese beetles devour. Beds hunger for water, soil thirsts for shade. The Lord hungers for justice, the Spirit thirsts for righteousness (lectionary text: Isa5.1-7, praise the Lord!). How will we taste on the tongue of our God? Will we have the sweet bouquet that presages a brilliant vintage year? Or will we sting the palate of our Saviour with a bitterness that makes the Spirit gag? This is my question for the week.
Shalom, chaverim; shalom, chaverot!