"But our citizenship is in heaven.
And we eagerly await a Saviour from there,
the Lord Jesus Christ,
who, by the power that enables him
to bring everything under his control,
will transform our lowly bodies
so that they will be like his glorious body.
Therefore, my brothers and sisters,
you whom I love and long for,
my joy and my crown,
stand firm in the Lord in this way, dear friends!"
Philippians 3:20-4:1
With the weekend's appeals from civic leaders in cottage country asking seasonal home owners to please stay away, and without knowing for sure how long we will need to comply as we all band together in all of this, I can't help but be wishing for time in the kayak.
The sky of it.
A big part of the spirituality of being at our cottage on Georgian Bay for me each summer is the wild space of the sky. There's something healing, something unleashing about being under that much endlessness. I can breathe in all that need. All of it. Whatever claustrophobic stresses constricted the flow of Spirit (Pneuma in Greek) over all the dark months of winter are released. Something good and beautiful and strong fills the lungs of my soul. I am re-oxygenated, restored, revived at a parenchymal level - that cellular level of exchange deep, deep in the sacred spaces.
The sky of it.
A big part of the spirituality of being at our cottage on Georgian Bay for me each summer is the wild space of the sky. There's something healing, something unleashing about being under that much endlessness. I can breathe in all that need. All of it. Whatever claustrophobic stresses constricted the flow of Spirit (Pneuma in Greek) over all the dark months of winter are released. Something good and beautiful and strong fills the lungs of my soul. I am re-oxygenated, restored, revived at a parenchymal level - that cellular level of exchange deep, deep in the sacred spaces.
This happens just by default in every moment outside, but it's particularly powerful when I'm out in the kayak and I take a moment to look up. There it is, wide and open and endless.
Lifted eyes is what I need now, here at the end of a winter that gripped us too tightly, spilling into a spring that's turned vicious. New news every day. And if I'm not careful, the same roof under which I shelter, and for which I am utterly grateful, might also just by default of that sense of being housebound, keep my eyes at ground level.
Paul encouraged the Church at Philippi to keep their eyes lifted. We are citizens of a greater span of reality than just what physical sight can render. There are bigger things going on, things wild and wide, and profound, and unfathomable, like the sky.
A bigger story is being written. Even now, as we share our insights and meditations and reflections with one another, about the earth healing, and the slowing down of all our ways, and the time with family, and the very real increase in appreciation for every moment of normal life we've ever taken for granted. These are just glimpses into the bigger thing that's happening.
With an eye towards heaven I feel the constrictions relax. Deep breathes of faith and peace are possible. My soul can heal from all my fretting. I can let God be God and let go of my own crazy.
Heaven's hope never fails, it never gives out, it never let's go.
Of course we pray that all our courageous efforts will bring this microscopic enemy to its knees far sooner than cottage-opening time.
And when that happens, I will hurry out on to the water, and breathe in the sky in ways I've never done before.
Paul encouraged the Church at Philippi to keep their eyes lifted. We are citizens of a greater span of reality than just what physical sight can render. There are bigger things going on, things wild and wide, and profound, and unfathomable, like the sky.
A bigger story is being written. Even now, as we share our insights and meditations and reflections with one another, about the earth healing, and the slowing down of all our ways, and the time with family, and the very real increase in appreciation for every moment of normal life we've ever taken for granted. These are just glimpses into the bigger thing that's happening.
With an eye towards heaven I feel the constrictions relax. Deep breathes of faith and peace are possible. My soul can heal from all my fretting. I can let God be God and let go of my own crazy.
Heaven's hope never fails, it never gives out, it never let's go.
Of course we pray that all our courageous efforts will bring this microscopic enemy to its knees far sooner than cottage-opening time.
And when that happens, I will hurry out on to the water, and breathe in the sky in ways I've never done before.
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