Seeing But Not Seeing

“I wonder how many people I've looked at all my life and never seen.”

-John Steinbeck, The Winter of Our Discontent

I've been doing a lot of walking since July when they first discovered the mass in my colon.  Initially I was driven to it as a stress release, then as a recovery recommendation, and now I'm striving to continue the habit as an investment in spiritual and physical health.

I've learned much through the process of walking in the last six months.  It slows you down by teaching daily discipline in a hectic schedule.  It forces you outside, prompting you to think more about other people living and working in the world around you.  It teaches you about polite and crazy drivers.  It acquaints you with different landscapes and neighborhoods--each with its own flavor and character.

About half the time, I listen to sermons on my podcast while walking.  If you are curious, my bread and butter is Growing Thru Grace (Jack Abeelen) and Truth for Life (Alistair Begg).  They are my father figures, both combinations of solid biblical teaching served up with a dose of encouragement and chastisement. If you don't typically listen to Christian programming, I don't blame you--the Christian airwaves are full of preaching that lacks grace, accuracy, or balance.  It's taken me many hours of listening over a period of years to trust these two and even they, like us all, have their blindspots.

Blindspots.  Recently, the thing I've noticed in my walking is how different the exact same landscape may appear once the foliage is gone and the undergrowth blackened by frost.  Especially in the mountains where the terrain is ever-changing in elevation and slope, you find that you can see much farther than during the summer.  The view expands, like the pulling back of a curtain.

Now, secluded places I once walked with reservation feel comfortably open, safe.  When we visited Utah, I remember being impressed by this sensation. As there are so few trees, the bones of the land are upfront all year long.  But in places with trees, it's interesting how the same landscape can inspire a different reaction once the leaves go. How satisfying to see far and long without obstruction.  It reminds me of the verse in the psalms about God bringing us out into a spacious place.

"He brought me out into a broad place; he rescued me, because he delighted in me." Psalm 18:19

This is one of the loveliest parts of mountain top views---you have such a feeling of being able to really see.

Is the same location inherently safer because of the absence of the green? I suppose to some degree that's true because there is less obstruction, but largely and practically speaking, everything is much the same.  It's more my emotional impression thas changed.

The south side of Beaver Lake in late November--I can see much farther.

The difference reminds me of 1 Corinthians 13 which speaks of us seeing through a glass darkly now, but seeing later face-to-face.  Paul teaches that our current line of sight--our current perception--is crippled in the same way that my sense of the true bones of the hills and ground is distorted by the leafy greens.  How different would our spiritual landscapes appear through eyes of sturdier faith?

In another passage, Paul alludes to of a type of veil, a barrier, that obstructs the understanding of the Jews:

"Indeed, to this very day whenever Moses is read, a veil lies over their minds;  but when one turns to the Lord, the veil is removed.  Now the Lord is the Spirit, and where the Spirit of the Lord is, there is freedom. And all of us, with unveiled faces, seeing the glory of the Lord as though reflected in a mirror, are being transformed into the same image from one degree of glory to another; for this comes from the Lord, the Spirit." -2 Corinthians 3:15-18

Our sense of both the heavenly and the satanic may be constrained by limitations of our "sight" in the immediate flesh.  Occasionally, we are gifted with glimpses into the eternal or gather a sense of evil beyond what we can see firsthand.

Is this the Holy Spirit whispering to our eternal souls things that are greater than the immediate?

For thirteen years, I have been looking over Beaver Lake from the base of my neighborhood.  It's a specific view characterized by a single white church steeple set against the backdrop of the lake, then trees, then mountains.  I've wondered about this church for years--which church steeple am I looking at?

For a very long time I thought it was the Beaverdam Baptist Church, but eventually self-corrected, realizing that this church is far too far up Beaverdam Valley to appear as as backdrop to the lake.  So, I concluded it belongs to a lesser unknown congregation, narrowing it down in just the last month to somewhere behind the Catholic church where we vote.

Really?  The steeple is Saint Eugene's?
What an anticlimax, duh!

Yesterday on my daily walk, I was determined to come to the bottom of this longstanding mystery.   Enough time had passed!  I was inspired to find out the name of this obscure congregation.  Ferreting out the correct roads, I wound my way up the hill.  When I came to the source--I had to actually see the roofline connect to the base of the steeple to fully believe it, I realized the steeple was part of the very familiar Saint Eugene's Catholic church all along.

This is just the latest instance of the perennial gaps in both my vision and understanding. It's embarrassing how partial my understanding is of any one thing at any one time.   Furthermore, I'm realizing that it's not something I can readily correct.  Though I may find my blindspot of thinking in one area---the church steeple for instance--there ae five more areas where I am yet unaware of my distorted perception.

This is true in my understanding of the physical and spiritual, people and places.  Deservedly, it humbles me.  I'm not sure what to do about it, except to draw nearer to Him whose sight-line is eternal, without obstruction, and to recognize that my own is badly flawed.

Who knows what common truth I may discover only thirteen more years from today?

Day 20--The Unseen

The older I get, the less I value the outside of a person.  But, when most people look at our daughter Rose, that's the first and sometimes only thing they see.  Her eyes.  Her hair.  Yes, she is a physically beautiful child, and although some piece of me is thankful for that--in the same sense that one would be thankful for the beauty of a literal rose--a bigger piece of me feels her appearance is a gargantuan distraction from her even more lovely unseen qualities.

I stumbled across this old cereal bowl this morning while looking for something else.  It's part of a set of dishes I made for my mother during her later years when she was battling multiple sclerosis.  She was also a physically beautiful person when younger; in fact, I think Rose's eyes hearken from her family.  It was hard to watch my mother's life be taken from her, piece-by-piece, and I suppose I painted this bowl as a sort of touchstone.  What is seen is indeed temporary...

 

All appearances are temporary. The outside is temporary.  Yet our culture is enamored with the outside.  We've made a very cult of the outside---clothing, homes, cars, our bodies, all material possessions.  We primp and present a particular side of us, because we long not only to be seen, but to be seen in a certain light.  To see ourselves in that certain light.

It's hard not to be blinded by this aspect of our culture.  It is pervasive, ubiquitous, readily blinding.  But the greater truth is that all that we see is fragile, temporal, fleeting.  This is true whether we believe in God or not.  Decay is all around us...in our environment, in our attics and basements, in our gardens, in our personal lives-- if we are honest.  We have to continually combat and beat back the forces of time and neglect.

Although the Bible acknowledges this decay, it ultimately--thankfully--transcends it:

"....as we look not to the things that are seen but to the things that are unseen. For the things that are seen are transient, but the things that are unseen are eternal." -2 Corinthians 4:18

The things that are unseen....

Circling back to Rose, my favorite pieces of Rose are not so obvious as her eyes.

She has a fabulous sense of wit.  She can read a person or a room almost instantly. She is deeply thoughtful and sensitive to others.  She is tenacious and determined. She is tenderhearted, a great nurturer of the life.

For instance, I found a seedling growing in my dish drain two days ago---yes, the dish drain.  I've never seen anything like this before, but apparently one of the seeds from a vegetable prep fell into the dish-drain, sprouted, grew, and was sustained by water from drying dishes.  Amazing! The force of life never disappoints.

So, I guided the shoot out, ever so gently, from underneath the dishes. He had roots and all! Then, I placed him in one of the tiny vases on the kitchen window.

I told Rose about it yesterday in passing because I thought it interesting. She was instantly curious: What kind of seed is it?  Where did it grow?  How did it grow?  "Ahhh....it's that nurturing piece of her coming out" I thought to myself, but I just went on doing the dishes.  After all, life has no shortage of dishes...dish after dish after dish, no?

At dinner, Rose appeared with this:

Apparently, the seedling is a not a he, but a she.  And her name is Alice. Rose moved her to a prettier vase and made her a future home complete with "a pretty stone to decorate."  She rummaged through my gardening supplies for these notions. The saucer is sitting on a log slice with a doily to dress it all up.

I realize this may seem trivial, even petty--the musings of a doting parent.  But this in essence, is what I see most strikingly in Rose.  Not her eyes.  Not her hair.  Not those things that are easy, cheap, readily visible to the casual observer or captured by a photograph.

I treasure her unseen qualities, the seemingly invisible parts of Rose---her heart for the forgotten, her desire to rescue and elevate life, to render it special, beautiful....

Such qualities in others--in ourselves--these are what we should focus upon, what we should elevate. The physical will pass, our bodies will pass, even the earth will pass.  But the invisible things--the fostering or neglecting of our spirits--these will triumph over the abuse of time, they will outlast our outsides, they will last forever. 

Day 19--Seasons and Rainbows

The continuity of seasons is evidence of God’s forbearance.                                                                                       -Bible Knowledge Commentary

I planted seeds for a fall garden last week.  As I almost always miss the window for fall gardening, I was proud of myself. It's the little things. August is such a whirlwind with school starting back that little things--like fall gardens-go by the wayside. But I really needed the continuity of a fall garden this year--need something to connect me to the outside and ground me in the here and now.

It feels counter-intuitive to plant colder weather plants when it's hot outside, but gardening is funny in that way. You anticipate the seasons before they arrive in earnest. The germination window of certain vegetables is like catching a wave---although you could plant them sooner or later, ideal timing allows you to take best advantage of the weather and conditions.

I threw an heirloom winter squash in the mix too-- just because. Even though it's much too late for a "hundred-days-until-maturity" squash, you never know. Maybe we will have an Indian summer. The seeds were getting old either way, and gambling with seeds is cheap fun.

Fall is on the move. I saw a tree changing colors and even shedding leaves the other day. There is a slightly lower dip to the temperatures at night, and the quality and duration of the light is gradually shifting. We still have some time, but I can feel it moving in...

Although I love autumn, it ushers in a more purposeful mindset than spring. Spring is full of the breezy anticipation of warmer days ahead, but fall walks with heavier steps dragging winter behind it. There is a sense of limited time, a need for preparation, a desire to wrap things up. The bees become frenetic, even angry, in late summer, the great bird migrations begin, and eventually the monarchs will move through too.

Tonight, this verse about the seasons floated into my thoughts:

"Then Noah built an altar to the LORD, and there he sacrificed as burnt offerings the animals and birds that had been approved for that purpose. And the LORD was pleased with the aroma of the sacrifice and said to Himself, "I will never again curse the ground because of the human race, even though everything they think or imagine is bent toward evil from childhood. I will never again destroy all living things. As long as the earth remains, there will be planting and harvest, cold and heat, summer and winter, day and night."  -Genesis 8:20-22

The seasons began as God's response to Noah's offering-- a fact I often forget.   Perhaps this is because the study of Noah is forever weighted down by issues of cultural flood myths, vegetarianism vs.meat eating, and the logistics of the ark.  As sensible humans, we just can't wrap our heads around the details--the how---the number of animals, the feeding of them, the flood itself.  

Sacrifice of Noah, Michelangelo, 1509, Sistine Chapel

In college, I remember a girl in my English 102 class who dared to assert that the entire episode was literal.  As our professor was clearly anti-Christian, her bold perspective made quite an impression upon me.  Really?  Some people are stupid enough to think that literally happened?  Wow.  I had no idea.  My friend and I had a good laugh after class.  Christians make easy targets.

But, I think non-Christians too easily forget that they believe in their share of "stupid" things too.  Horoscopes, though they may seem "fun" are fairly stupid if you think about it.  The idea that my personality and characteristics are determined by the position of the stars is laughably unscientific. Once I had a half hour conversation with a man in front of Earth Fare about the healing powers of crystals.  He was firmly convinced.  Is this not equally fantastic?  
I think we have to balance the mystical with the practical--the world is big enough to encompass both.  God will give us enough practical to believe in the mystical, but He won't give us the whole breathe of everything we want to know.  After all, a desire for knowledge is what got us into this mess in the first place.  There is a proverb that talks about the prerogative of God to include mystery:

"It is God's privilege to conceal things...."  -Proverbs 25:2, NLT

Kazuya Akimoto Art Museum
Noah's Ark After the Flood

For better or worse, I'm mostly at peace with the literal vs. figurative aspects of the Bible these days.  It's not that I've completely come to the bottom of all of these textual and theological issues, but more that I accept it as a mystery I can't fully unravel for now.  If you struggle with the same, I'll share a piece of my thoughts in this regard.

One of my first steps was the realization that if God is real and the Bible is a legitimate record of His workings, then He is fully capable of doing whatever He wants--including walking on water, feeding thousands, healing people, and yes....managing a bunch of animals on a boat.  

The faith piece has to come first.  He will reveal Himself if we look for Him, but he is not a song-and-dance man to suit our whims.  Jesus says as much in response to his culture's treatment of John the Baptist:

"But to what shall I compare this generation? It is like children sitting in the marketplaces and calling to their playmates,

'We played the flute for you, and you did not dance;
we sang a dirge, and you did not mourn.'" -Matthew 11:16-17

God will not allow Himself to become our whipping boy.  He must be given a fair chance on fair terms.

But getting back to Noah...one thing I've never understood is why this story would be selected as appropriate for a nursery theme? It's an insult to the text.  I know the animals and the ark make a great visual picture for children---kind of like the first zoo--but how do we miss that the story is primarily about world-wide destruction?  Would we put a mushroom cloud on the nursery wall?  Yes, a remnant was spared, but how do we gloss over the catastrophic loss?

Shakespeare noted "All's well that ends well."  So is this the case? If we view the story as God's faithfulness through such a storm, it does place a different slant on things. 

And then, there's the rainbow.  Who doesn't love a rainbow?  It brings out childish delight from even the deepest curmudgeon.  It's like the first snow--a bit of magic in the midst of the ordinary.

On 240 nearing River Ridge--on one of our many to and fros (For the record, Grace was driving)

"Then God said, "I am giving you a sign of My covenant with you and with all living creatures, for all generations to come. I have placed My rainbow in the clouds. It is the sign of My covenant with you and with all the earth."  Genesis 9:12-13

This piece of commentary on the symbolism of the rainbow is worth reading and thinking about:

"The rainbow arcs like a battle bow hung against the clouds. (The Heb. word for rainbow, qešeṯ, is also the word for a battle bow.) Elsewhere in the Old Testament God referred to judgment storms by using terms for bows and arrows. The bow is now “put away,” hung in place by the clouds, suggesting that the “battle,” the storm, is over. Thus the rainbow speaks of peace. In the ancient Near East, covenant treaties were made after wars as a step toward embarking on peace."                -Bible Knowledge Commentary

So He's laid down his bow.  And, we live out this middle, this world of seasons, of rainbows, of in-between.  For a time.  For a season.   The seasons give definition to our lives, the edges of things draw attention to the center.  A character in the movie Elizabethtown comments, "Beginnings are always fearful and endings are sad.  It's the middle that counts."  I would add that the middle is defined by its edges, and He is certainly not done with this world or with us yet.

Day 18--More Stalking and Inspiration

"People are turning to their gardens not to consume but to actively create, not to escape from reality but to observe it closely. In doing this they experience the connectedness of creation and the profoundest sources of being. That the world we live in and the activity of making it are one seamless whole is something that we may occasionally glimpse. In the garden, we know." -Carol Williams, Bringing a Garden to Life

While walking in downtown Weaverville yesterday, I met an avid gardener named Sue who invited us into their garden, Laughing Crow.  After my disparaging comments on crows awhile back, I thought it interesting that she had such a different take on these birds.  They are definitely hard-core lovers of nature though--she even welcomes the yellow jackets because "they are mighty hunters that keep the caterpillars down."

Sue graciously invited Rose and I to explore, so of course, we did!  It was an enchanting place to spend time on a hot August afternoon. Their garden is the most extensive and well-thought out private garden I've ever seen--so many paths, private corners, benches, and bed upon bed of plants. 

When they first bought the property the land was full of fill dirt from various dumpings, so their soil quality varies greatly. Reclaiming this land and transforming the property has been both the work and play of their retirement. All of the landscaping is their own creation, Over a period of eight years, they've established a strong core of shrubs and perennials, then layered in annuals and tropicals for color. Maintaining the garden is a full-time passion for both husband and wife. Sue is the master visionary, plant selector and weeder, while Dave manages the watering, edging, and infrastructure.

Dave is a retired engineer with a mathematical approach to the watering. He maintains a flow chart of the sprinkler activity and assesses the actual accumulated watering with dishpans! His love for the mechanical and rusty is woven throughout the garden. Their birdhouse sits on an old drilling screw and rusty chains are tucked here and there. He's also built the railings, an arbor for the swing, and even a greenhouse in their basement. Sue commented that they are good separately but amazing together. What a testimony to the beauty of two people working together and using their individual strengths to create something grander.

While talking about different approaches, Sue observed that there are many levels of gardening. She said she's grateful to anyone who bothers to plant a flower--even if it's just a single petunia in a pot: "Anything that anyone does to make the world more beautiful I'm grateful for..." Although their gardening is demanding, she considers the work to be play because it brings such joy. If people find something they are passionate about, she believes that the boundaries of work and play can merge and disappear.



She pointed out that their garden is a "certified wildlife habitat,"a phrase I had run across multiple times on garden signs throughout the area. What's required? The garden must be organic, without the use of pesticides, and provide food, water, cover, and places for animals to raise their young. Their landscape attracts many types of animals--the birds and bees especially, but also rabbits, chipmunks, occasional bear, and a groundhog who has recently taken up residence near her rose bush: "Groundhogs are very tidy creatures. He's created a very neat hole." Sue told me they can tunnel up to twenty feet underground and need to because they fully hibernate in the winter and need a safe place from enemies.

Rose inquired if they have cats after noticing their many cat ornaments.  They do have four cats, but they are entirely indoor cats because of the conflict their presence would create with the birds. Although some of the wildlife nibble on her plants, she said their impact is minimal.  But, Sue said she doesn't grow vegetables to maintain the peace.  She feels that it might turn her against some of the animals if they started eating her vegetables in earnest!

They named the garden "laughing crow" because she believes crows are clever and funny.  Sometimes when they sit in the trees and talk to each other, their sound is like laughter.  

I was particularly taken with her shrubs, especially the hydrangeas.  They make me long to include more bushes and perennials in our garden.  Sue has a fantastic eye for leaf shape, size, texture, and hue.  

Their garden is a pleasure to wander through with the carefully planned and maintained paths.  The many benches and thoughtful ornamentations along the way are invitations to rest and contemplate.  She insists that every garden should offer a place for respite from the hard work of gardening.   Along those lines, she shared this adage:  "The best type of fertilizer for a garden is the gardener's shadow."

Sue's garden shed--love the way the yellow details bring a splash of color in the shade.

I'm thankful for people like Sue and Dave who think carefully about their surroundings and cultivate their beauty.  She's given me vision for the future and a desire to boldly dig up more ground.

Spider plant with a splash of begonias.

Hydrangea paniculata--fast growing, loves sun, late summer bloomer 

Hostas--along with some of Dave's rusty finds.

I envy her crisp garden edges--an effect Dave achieves by turning the weed-eater sideways.  Wish I could teach my Dave that trick--our "edges" are a mess!

The bees come to drink from her bird bath--she said on the hottest days they sit there shoulder-to-shoulder!

Her tropicals overwinter in their greenhouse.

The different levels in the yard add depth and interest.  This walkway winds down to the bench with the Castor bean.

So many sweet little details in this garden--like this little potted plant Rose is exploring.

Birdhouse perched on a drill bit, sitting on an old automotive drum kit

View from their home toward the road

Begonias and miniature hostas

Giant hosta--Sum and Substance, I think.

Day 17--Stalking Other People's Gardens

“Show me your garden and I shall tell you what you are.” -Alfred Austin

Some folks like to people watch, but me, I like to garden watch. Wherever the children travel with their to and fro, I'll look for a new place to walk and garden watch. Neighborhoods are a great place to wander--the best ones have a good mix of the sublime and the dysfunctional. I prefer eclectic neighborhoods where the houses don't all look alike and the outside of each home tells its own story. A person's yard can be a window into what they value or tolerate, what they find beautiful or useful.

Some approach their yards very structurally. These types like gates, hedges, fences, edging. You may step here. You may not go beyond here. The tree lives here, the bush is shaped just so, and their flowers are delegated to a few posed pots or bed. A sense of security and order characterizes such yards. I imagine dinner will be served on time there.



However, taken to an extreme, this type of gardening can feel formulaic, constrictive. It reminds me of my grandmother's relationship with plants. Her entire garden consisted of a single plant---a bonsai tree. The miniature tree lived in a dish surrounded by white pebbles on a shelf under their carport. I suppose it grew very very slowly, if at all. Sadly, it always looked the same to me. She loved her little tree, and I loved her, but that's not my idea of gardening.  I like to see things grow and change.  I like a little drama in the garden.

Other families approach their yards whimsically. They prefer colorful lawn ornaments, statues, and found objects.  I confess to being a bit of a lawn ornament snob--there are very few I'd allow in my own yard. Most of them try too hard and end up being a distraction from the plants.  Though lawn ornaments are often over-used--especially when there is a big clump of them-- there are times when they are just right.

I must admit a soft spot for this "so ugly he's cute" turtle.

"The garden suggests there might be a place where we can meet nature halfway."  -Michael Pollan

Although there is room in a yard for a bit of quirk or contemplation, it should be subtle. Who likes being hit over the head with either? The plants and flowers should be the main dish and the ornaments like condiments...a little goes a long way.



I love the way the overtly evangelistic and the overtly new age mix in Asheville.  It keeps life interesting.  It's good to have an opinion, though I'm not sure the yard is the most effective forum.

When walking any neighborhood, there are those yards and homes that you wonder about. Their yard art consist of forgotten or neglected objects from their real lives. Who lives there? What burden lies heavy inside? The grass grows up. The objects accumulate. There is an air of neglect, a sense of lost control. I feel sad about such places--I long to approach them, but honestly, I'm afraid of what might meet me on the other side. I quietly go on my way instead and wish them better days. Sometimes I'll pray.

"Remember that children, marriages, and flower gardens reflect the kind of care they get." -H. Jackson Brown, Jr.

 Best of all are those gardens where everything works together to create a greater whole.  Walking unfamiliar places means you can stumble upon these as a gift.  They make the walking worthwhile.  They invite you to stop and linger.  They hold out a promise of sorts--an invitation to a different, better place...

"What I've always found interesting in gardens is looking at what people choose to plant there. What they put in. What they leave out. One small choice and then another, and soon there is a mood, an atmosphere, a series of limitations, a world." Helen Humphreys, The Lost Garden

“A garden should make you feel you've entered privileged space -- a place not just set apart but reverberant -- and it seems to me that, to achieve this, the gardener must put some kind of twist on the existing landscape, turn its prose into something nearer poetry.” -Michael Pollan, Second Nature:  A Gardener's Education 

“One of the pleasures of being a gardener comes from the enjoyment you get looking at other people's yards.” -Thalassa Cruso, To Everything There Is a Season

“May I a small house and large garden have; And a few friends,

And many books, both true.” -Abraham Cowley

"Trees and plants always look like the people they live with, somehow." -Zora Neale Hurston

"Gardens always mean something else, man absolutely uses one thing to say another." 

 -Robert Harbison

"My garden is my most beautiful masterpiece” -Claude Monet

"Gardens are a form of autobiography." -Robert Dash, Horticulture