Grace, outside the box
Tommy was his parent’s pride and joy. A very bright, creative and contented little boy, he began kindergarten with his parent’s certainty that he would flourish. At the end of the first week, Tommy brought home pictures he had colored. His mother and father beamed at their son’s obvious talent. Although, they were a little curious as to why every single one of Tommy’s drawings were done in black crayon. Even so, they said nothing.
Another week passed. Tommy brought home more pictures, technically correct and endearing. But each of them still in black.
“Perhaps he is color blind,” his father said. “We should get his eyes checked.”
“No,” his mother responded. “Tommy could name all the colors by the time he was two. But I will take him for a checkup.”
The pediatrician said, “There’s no need to worry. Tommy is healthy in every way.”
As the weeks passed, and the pictures continued to come home in black crayon, Tommy’s mother felt unglued by anxiety. She made an appointment with a child psychologist, who conducted numerous tests, referred Tommy for brain scans, but in the end, finally, resigned baffled. “Your son is a precocious learner. Perhaps he needs more challenging activities.”
By Thanksgiving the refrigerator displayed Tommy’s black pictures, black dogs chasing a black ball in a black field, black houses, black suns, black airplanes and a black turkey. Everything black.
Tommy’s grandmother, visiting for the Thanksgiving holiday, noticed (of course) all of her grandson’s black drawings. She immediately asked Tommy, “Honey, why are all of your drawings done in black crayon?”
“That’s easy Grandma,” the boy answered. “My chair is at the end of the table, and by the time the box of crayons gets to me, the only ones left are black.”
Yes, this story is cute, but I like it because it makes me laugh out loud. And I am always grateful for the gift of laughing out loud. It is a wonderful reset button.
A reminder about what really matters.
A reminder of how easily we can be derailed, and victims of our presuppositions. (A kind of Scotoma, or selective blindness. In other words, we see only what we want to see.) And, maybe, in the laughter, is the permission to let go of whatever keeps our “blinders” in place.
“Whatever is honored will be cultivated.” Plato reminded us.
And for whatever reason… We honor—or prefer—“life” in a box.
We find comfort in diagnosis (or soundbites).
We find disquiet in uncertainty.
We hope for refuge in a destination.
We grow impatient with the journey. (“Are we there yet?”)
And we carry these expectations (more often than not, unknowingly) about people or life, into our relationships, encounters and endeavors. These expectations become our paradigm for life. Our lens, by which we determine “reality.” In the case of the story: where I see “only” the black crayons, then pictures with black crayons are abnormal, and therefore a sign of a troubled child. (And speaking of crayons, Lord have mercy if you are caught coloring outside the lines, regardless of the Crayola you choose.)
When life needs to be “in a box” (of expectations or belief), it is easy to miss the joy of anything outside the box. And the gifts of surprise, wonder, gladness, joy, delight, grace and the sacrament of the present moment.
(I think the lesson is this: if you want to get the bottom of any story, ask Grandma.)
“Blessed are the poor in spirit,” Jesus told the crowd.
And Simon Peter asked, “Do we have to write this down? Are we going to be tested on this?”
It’s not too far from the truth. Jesus unnerved his disciples. (But then, what he said still unnerves people today.) He spoke in parables (which translates, grappling with opposites). After the parable, the disciples would ask, “That’s a nice story, but what does it mean?”
You know, life would make more sense if we “understood” it completely. Or at the very least, could explain it.
But what if Jesus’ parable is not about “getting” the truth?
What if the parable is about letting the truth “get you?”
Or in some way, allowing this grappling with opposites (an invitation to mystery) to enter and transform our world. What would happen if we honored mystery instead of certainty?
As long as we have an internal mechanism that honors or values…
…tidiness over muddled;
…closure (certainty) over ambiguity;
…normal over odd;
We will be quick to judge and quicker to dismiss.
Gratefully, the world is bigger and more full of grace than we “see”. So, it is no wonder moments of grace can surprise (and unnerve) us. And yes, make us laugh out loud.
But this is important: we’re not giving an assignment here. I’m not wanting to add the weight of if only (or what if). Let us embrace the permission to open our eyes, and receive the healing dollops of grace and the sacred in the mystifying, the puzzling, the messy, the unruly and even the meager.
Maybe there is room on the fridge door for a depiction of one such sacred moment—say the smile on Tommy’s face in his grandma’s hug… I may even render it in black crayon.
This weekend, millions of Americans with roots in Asian countries rang in the Lunar New Year. Many who follow the Chinese zodiac calendar will usher in the Year of the Rabbit, symbolizing hope and good fortune.
Music was never better than the years I was in high school—the perfect musical and emotional time warp. And Crosby, Stills & Nash (later with Young) always made the dancer in me come to life. My Oh My. This past week, David Van Cortlandt Crosby died. Founding member of both the Byrds and Crosby, Stills & Nash. Rest in peace David, your music lives on.
I’m on a plane today heading to Florida. A few days of sun and sand. And then Saturday (January 28) at Venice UCC for a seminar. Join us if you can.
Quote for our week… “Somewhere between heaven and hell, a soul knows where it’s been. I want to feel my spirit lifted up and catch my breath again. Lay me down in the river and wash this place away. Break me down like sand from a stone, maybe I’ll be whole again one day.” David Crosby and Graham Nash
Notes: The story about black crayons is unattributed. And, like all good stories, it may not have happened, but is still very, very true.
BULLETIN BOARD
Today’s Photo Credit: “Dear Terry, Here’s a stunner! Mount Ranier today. Enjoy your week! God bless,” Marguerite… Thank you Marguerite… Keep sending your photos… send to terryhershey.com
Yes, your gift makes a difference… Donation = Love…
Help make Sabbath Moment possible. I write SM because I want to live with a soft heart; to create a place for sanctuary, empathy, inclusion, compassion and kindness… a space where we are refueled to make a difference. SM remains free.
(NEW address by check: PO Box 65336, Port Ludlow, WA 98365
NEW Book – Stand Still: finding balance when the world turns upside down
NEW Audio SM… Enjoy — Receive the gift of grace
Join us every Wednesday… Audio Sabbath Moment
Letters that do my heart good…
–Greetings: I continue to grow my business One Girl Standing thanks to your wisdoms and encouragements through Sabbath Moment. I offer my encouragement art as well as self-care gatherings and peer mentoring. Thank You. Patti
–Hi Terry, Thank you for your reflection today. It held a special meaning for us since Mick and I walked the Edmund Pettus Bridge last Oct. with a group of pilgrims from Bellarmine Chapel , Xavier University. In honor of MLK day, Mick was asked to offer a Witness at the Masses yesterday, a witness of the change of heart that can be inspired by heartfelt experiences. He touched many people, family and friends and parishioners. So thanks for your inspiration for today about MLK and his courage and faith and devotion to love not hate. Blessings as you continue to inspire us. Joanie
–Hi Terry, Thanks for all you do to keep the Holy Spirit moving, At almost 87 I am at a different spot in my own spiritual journey. I am not near as active in my parish, and I really don’t feel guilty about it. I have been ordained for 41 years, so I have been there done that. I still have my own “at home” spiritual discipline.” Hope that you are doing well since your move. Blessings to you, friend. Keep on keeping on! Cliff, Episcopal Priest
–Dear Terry, Your reflections continue to touch my heart. Several weeks ago some of my friends and I in the Notre Dame community moved from independent living to assisted living. Everyone has been very kind and those of us who moved are grateful. Nonetheless, it is a major change and is calling for lots of adjustment as we move to live with over 60 sisters. Your words and thoughts continue to encourage me to adjust to this new situation. I look forward to your weekly Sabbath thoughts as I make adjustments and listen to Jesus as He helps me/us continue following His call. Gratefully, Virginia, SND
Today’s Photo Credit: “Dear Terry, Here’s a stunner! Mount Ranier today. Enjoy your week! God bless,” Marguerite… Thank you Marguerite… Keep sending your photos… send to terryhershey.com
Yes, your gift makes a difference… Donation = Love…
Help make Sabbath Moment possible. I write SM because I want to live with a soft heart; to create a place for sanctuary, empathy, inclusion, compassion and kindness… a space where we are refueled to make a difference. SM remains free.
(NEW address by check: PO Box 65336, Port Ludlow, WA 98365
NEW Book – Stand Still: finding balance when the world turns upside down
NEW Audio SM… Enjoy — Receive the gift of grace
Join us every Wednesday… Audio Sabbath Moment
Letters that do my heart good…
–Greetings: I continue to grow my business One Girl Standing thanks to your wisdoms and encouragements through Sabbath Moment. I offer my encouragement art as well as self-care gatherings and peer mentoring. Thank You. Patti
–Hi Terry, Thank you for your reflection today. It held a special meaning for us since Mick and I walked the Edmund Pettus Bridge last Oct. with a group of pilgrims from Bellarmine Chapel , Xavier University. In honor of MLK day, Mick was asked to offer a Witness at the Masses yesterday, a witness of the change of heart that can be inspired by heartfelt experiences. He touched many people, family and friends and parishioners. So thanks for your inspiration for today about MLK and his courage and faith and devotion to love not hate. Blessings as you continue to inspire us. Joanie
–Hi Terry, Thanks for all you do to keep the Holy Spirit moving, At almost 87 I am at a different spot in my own spiritual journey. I am not near as active in my parish, and I really don’t feel guilty about it. I have been ordained for 41 years, so I have been there done that. I still have my own “at home” spiritual discipline.” Hope that you are doing well since your move. Blessings to you, friend. Keep on keeping on! Cliff, Episcopal Priest
–Dear Terry, Your reflections continue to touch my heart. Several weeks ago some of my friends and I in the Notre Dame community moved from independent living to assisted living. Everyone has been very kind and those of us who moved are grateful. Nonetheless, it is a major change and is calling for lots of adjustment as we move to live with over 60 sisters. Your words and thoughts continue to encourage me to adjust to this new situation. I look forward to your weekly Sabbath thoughts as I make adjustments and listen to Jesus as He helps me/us continue following His call. Gratefully, Virginia, SND
POEMS AND PRAYERS
Spiritual practice is about transformation, but it’s also, and more importantly, about working with what is.
Angel Kyodo Williams
An Image That Makes Them Sad
How long will grown men and women in this world
keep drawing in their coloring books
an image of God that
makes them
Sad?
Meister Eckhart
I Want to Surrender
God, I want to surrender
to the rhythm of music and sea,
to the seasons of ebb and flow,
to the tidal surge of love.
I am tired of being hard,
tight, controlled,
tensed against tenderness,
afraid of softness.
I am tired of directing my world,
making, doing, shaping.
Tension is ecstasy in chains.
The muscles are tightened to prevent trembling.
Nerves strain to prevent trust,
hope, relaxation….
Surrender is a risk no sane man may take.
Sanity never surrendered
is a burden no man may carry.
God give me madness
that does not destroy
wisdom,
responsibility,
love.
Sam Keen