Our songs take flight like fireflies
Disrupting dark skies
With flashes of joy.
Just beyond the wall
Of blackness
Glory.
Pilgrim Notes
Reflections along the way.
Author: Doug Floyd (page 3 of 8)
Behold, you have made my days a few handbreadths,
and my lifetime is as nothing before you.
Surely all mankind stands as a mere breath! Selah
6 Surely a man goes about as a shadow!
Ps 39:5–6.
Just a moment, just a twinkling of an eye, and I’ll be gone. Forgotten. A mere breath. A shadow.
At first, I feel completely insignificant. A speck of nothingness before the vastness. I feel that empty sinking feeling of gazing into the galaxies beyond number, containing billions and even trillions of stars in each galaxy. In light of the immeasurable creation, I am less than a blink.
With the Psalmist I acknowledge, the utter evanescence of my existence. The Psalmist beholds the glory of God and the vapor of human life together. Instead of despair, he finds hope.
And now, O Lord, for what do I wait?
My hope is in you. Ps 39:7.
This little prayer, prayed ages ago is still ringing, singing in my ears.
Oh what cause for joy! I am so minuscule, so minor, so fleeting, and yet, I am here. In His good pleasure, He did create me. He sang His life into me and my heart still pounds with the dance.
The God beyond measure gathers me, you, and all His people up in His love, His grace, His utterly surprising creation.
Yes, we are frail and fading, but we are here in this blink, this breath, this shadowed moment. So we rejoice, we rest in Him.
We hope. We trust that He remembers us and will remember us and will remember us and will continue remembering us as we rise, in just a moment, to the fullness of His glory.
Sliding Shadow image by Annalisa Antonini (used by permission by Creative Commons).
For salvation is nearer to us now than when we first believed. The night is far gone; the day is at hand. So then let us cast off the works of darkness and put on the armor of light. (Romans 13:11–12)
On some nights, the fog of fear and doubt bewitch the mind and torment the heart. We can be trapped in a moment of anguish that feels like ages. For some people, this moment extends to days, weeks, even years. In C.S. Lewis’s novel, The Silver Chair, the prince has been bewitched by the dark Queen of the Underland. He forgets who he is and becomes her slave. When the children try to rescue him, the Queen tries to seduce them and soon they are ready to doubt the sun, the world above, and the hope beyond them. They are falling under her spell.
The constant bombardment of dark news and sad stories can quickly convince us that darkness is rising and the light is fading. Continue reading
The year begins in darkness. Long nights, short days. We gather before the dawn–in the dark of human struggles and fears and loss. What lies ahead? What obstacles may block our way? Will we lose our way in the valley of the shadow of death? Night terrors haunt our days with division and distrust all around us. The nation is shouting. Brother against brother. Fathers and sons turning apart. Our country and even our world seem doomed to repeat another year of anger and hatred; another year of striving. Continue reading
It’s 1:30 in the morning, and I sit soaking in the old familiar Psalms. During the quiet of the night, ancient songs wash over me, renew me and gently lead me back to sleep. These same phrases have quieted my soul for decades. Little phrases linger in my mind, “Teach me your way O Lord, that I may walk in your truth”; “Give light to my eyes or I shall fall into the sleep of death”; and the simple “Bless the Lord O my soul.” In nights of distress, days of darkness and even moments of pure joy, these Psalms give articulation to my stammering heart. Continue reading
“On almost every occasion when I have met somebody, I have met somebody else.” – G.K. Chesterton
“All real living is meeting.” – Martin Buber
When my dad was just a boy, his father took him to the TN Valley Fair. They were sharing a bag of peanuts and walking. His dad walked up to a stranger and offered some peanuts. He grabbed a handful. In a few minutes, they were swapping stories, laughing and becoming friends. My dad told me that story again and again and again. Continue reading
“The Lord comes roaring out of Zion.” The shepherds weep. The mountains wither. It is a dreadful thing to fall into the hands of the living God. Advent may be far more risky than we ever imagined. The coming of the Lord may cost us everything.
It is so easy to forget that He is a Consuming Fire. Continue reading
We had a simple cardboard Advent calendar that marked the days until Christmas. Each day had a small flap that opened to reveal a little picture beneath the larger picture. This simple, inexpensive calendar opened a window to a world of wonders just beyond my grasp. Continue reading
We call the weeks prior to Christmas, “Advent.” We order this time for intentional watching and waiting on the coming of the Lord. And yet, during these same weeks we feel the pressure to buy, celebrate, and feast. How do we live into the call to watch and wait while juggling Christmas shopping, decorating, multiple parties, and the ongoing challenges of work and home? Continue reading
Moonflower
Let not steadfast love and faithfulness forsake you;
bind them around your neck;
write them on the tablet of your heart. Proverbs 3:3
Words unfold.
Like the night-blooming cereus, words
open to the patient listener. A treasure
unveiled in the dark night of waiting
and watching. Words like
love and faithful
fragrant the soul with sweetness:
a surprise of hope in the midnight hour.
Love pulses its mystery in giving
and receiving: the Father running
like a child to his prodigal grown old;
the squeals of delight
echoing from the boy and his pup;
sisters’ embrace through the howls
of hard rain coming down.
Faithful takes shape
in a world of pure gift:
water running, roaring, rushing
forward to cracked, parched ground;
last year’s apple tree split by lightning,
bursting with more fruit than ever before;
sunrise rippling across land and sea,
ending the endless night.
Love and Faithful bind me like
the Akedah. Isaac climbing to
his ending and beginning.
Following the bloodstains
to the place of skulls,
I am planted in the Savior’s grasp,
blooming briefly
with love’s light
in the dark of night.
Doug Floyd
11/3/15
Image of Night-blooming Cereus by Cristóbal Alvarado Minic (used by permission via Creative Commons).
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