Something Much-ish...

I've a lot to say... I haven't typed on this thing in a long, long time... and I feel a little brimming. Brimmish? Brimmed? I'm full of much to prattle on about.

Read at your own risk.

Weekend... home. Barefoot. Feet as they ought to be. Ground that's cool and squishy... must be fall. It is hushed, yet if I had the right ears... do you wonder how loud that cacophony of life must be? I stand and take in a bee hive... far enough away to barely hear a murmur... God probably doesn't "hear" in the sense we do... but if I could think of him in terms of hearing, he must hear everything all at once. No filter. And how crazy, to know how every bee is flying... antics that the a fighter jet can't even mimic. I'm on 40 acres. The reality of that amount of life... knowing every bobbing head of grass, flying bird, crawling bug... seems impossible. And beyond this forty, are forty more, and forty more, and forty more: most are infinitely more complex than this vacant forty... some are utterly chaotic with human vice and suffering... no filter. All at once... He sees and hears and knows.

Across the pond... I can see that my family is scattered and busy. The little people always run. The older people are getting... odd. Or maybe, we're just relaxing. All I know is, my dad is using a fishing pole to fly a kite. When it crashes: "I need to adjust the drag." Indeed.

Back to the city... lots of layers of man's stuff... little attempts, out of necessity, out of love, out of audacity... little attempts to create and sustain... I love the city. But... it is easy to forget... the biggerness of most of the rest of everything. It's raining...
[wait, some background: one time, at a shelter, I asked the kids if God was more powerful than the president. "Yes!" how do you know? one little boy: "because when it is raining and thundering, the lightning comes down out of the sky and hits whatever it wants!" can the president do that? "No!!!"]
Anyway, it's raining... slippery asphalt... my favorite grocery store... smells like chargrilled burgers, lots of people loitering out of habit... the rest of us are in a hurry. Smack! The sky is split by eight shafts of sheer heat and energy and power. "Whoa!" is our unanimous response. Mayhaps we've each just realized something terrifying... that we exist by some great mercy, some enormous stayed-hand. Some hand which sustains all we've constructed... Or mayhaps we all missed it.. and when we come to the end of everything, and make some effort to explain... why we did so much ignoring... we will have no defence. Because even the homeless tiny ones knew the evidence.... "when it is raining... lightning comes down out of the sky and hits whatever it wants..."