A Lesson in Reverence: balcony perspective

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Barbara Brown Taylor says that we practice reverence to remember that we are not gods, to remember that we are small, and that we belong to each other.

The guys bought me flowers and herbs for Mother’s Day. But really, they gave me the gift of a space that’s mine, a balcony garden that pulls me into hidden comfort, a safe place.

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I hide behind my flowers’ faces, glancing out to see my neighbors walking their dogs.

Every time they pass, I hope they stop and look. I hope they stop and see that life flourishes everywhere, even on a 2nd floor concrete box of a balcony.

If I lean down by my celosias and look through them instead of towering above, I become lost in a forest of feathery yellow and pink, of leafy green.

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I’m no photographer, but I recognize the difference of perspective, the shift in lens and focus.

It is the same in life, the same in our every day instances.

I become thankful for my boys when I stop and look hard into their blue and brown eyes, when I remember the numbered hairs on their heads and the way they love to belly-laugh and wrestle.

And in my thankfulness, I remember that we are so well cared-for.

God, in all glory, in all wisdom, all massive love and breath-taking grace, He pulls me close and asks me to look at the celosia again.

He asks me to remember how we found our husky on a rock in Arkansas.

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He asks me to redefine what it means to be a mother to two boys, and what it means to sit by the flowers in the quiet and read and write and be fully alive.

In all of it, He says, It’s for you. Here, all my love for you.

And there, I cannot imagine taking anything for granted, even the pain, because it is all life and all gift, all breath in holy abundance.

Amen.

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