She sat on the porch, the air around her turning colder, reminding her that the cool days of fall and the memories of even warmer summer days were drawing to a close. It saddened her, as the thought of winter did just about every year. Another year older, another trip around the sun without seemingly much to show for it. What’s the point after so many years, she wondered?
Her eyes turned to the trees. With the exception of a few tough hangers on, the leaves had all fallen, the branches barren and brown and gray. Ugh. She closed her eyes and dreamed of green. “Make it a short winter, Lord,” she prayed.
And then they arrived, birds by the dozens. Or were they already there and she hadn’t noticed? Sweet brown and black sparrows flitting from limb to limb. A pair of cardinals flashing red as they rounded the corner of the house and came to rest on a branch near the feeder. A lone blue jay lurking nearby, his cobalt hue enough to take the woman’s breath away. A red-breasted robin dug for worms in the soggy soil, while a small downy woodpecker worked his or her way up and down the trunk of the maple at the center of the yard. Through the bare branches, high above, a flock of Canada geese noisily made their way to the Missouri River flyway nearby.
So much to see, she thought, even in the deadness of early winter. And the voice deep within her said: “You see so much now because the leaves are gone, because the cycle of life and death continues, because sometimes to see more clearly you must die to yourself. You need to declutter your life once every so often, must set aside for a while the busy-ness of green summer and immerse yourself in the quiet of something sparse and clear. By leaving behind what you think you most want, you open up the possibility of all you need and can only find in the stark beauty of right now. Enjoy my birds. You’re welcome.”
And the woman smiled, pushing away the thoughts of green for the moment, relishing now a quiet moment with a friend, and she sang: “To see thee more clearly, love thee more dearly, follow thee more nearly. Day by day.” Even in winter. Even now.
Ask yourself in silence:
+ What is something new or surprising I saw today?
+ What might it mean?
+ Am I grateful?
And here’s a video that reminds us to pay attention to the ordinary so as to discover the extraordinary and overwhelming glory of God in the world around us. Enjoy.
10 comments On A (Very) Short Story: To See Thee More Clearly
Have had a head cold, now the flu but not Covid. This essay was just what I needed today and saw a beautiful Carolina Wren flitting happily around my backyard. Thanks!
A n extraordinary song and message – Thank you!!!
Loved the song! Very Ignatian! God in all things! Thanks Steve!
Thanks, Tom.
Thanks, Sonie. Good to hear from you.
Thanks, Sheila. Glad you are well and that this little story found you today.
Beautiful! Thank You! 🙏🏻
Thank you for your reflections in Living With Christ. I just subscribed to your blog via email. I have been praying for good health for you.
Thanks, Anne. I am doing very well these days. No health issues to worry about (except getting older!)
Thanks, Linda.