Wednesday, December 21, 2011

Raindrops like Stars



I sat here this morning as the light fell in slanted and shadowed with a cup of coffee and silence. Everyone else was sleeping. I pulled a book off the shelf and started reading it -- a book that someone sent me long ago that I would say falls into the Christian literature genre -- maybe even Christian self-help. It's by Rob Bell and called Drops Like Stars. I had shelved the book when I got it, after a quick and cursory look-through, lots of pain and suffering, the man on the cross, the agony, etc. Lots of inspiration. But this morning, I opened it halfway through and started reading it, only a few words on a page.

So in the end of every major disaster, every tiny error,every wrong turning, every fragment of discarded clay, all the blood, sweat and tears -- everything has meaning. I give it meaning. I reuse, reshape, recast all that goes wrong so that in the end nothing is wasted and nothing is without significance and nothing ceases to be precious to me. (the character Harriet March, a sculptor in a novel by Susan Howatch)

My coffee steamed in my face as I read on, illuminated by chance.


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10 comments:

  1. karioDecember 21, 2011 at 9:09 AM

    Lovely. And I love that cozy chair in the corner with the sunlight streaming in. Read on!

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  2. UnknownDecember 21, 2011 at 10:03 AM

    Sweetness. And coming from you, truly sweet with no sap.

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  3. GbergerDecember 21, 2011 at 10:32 AM

    Amen to that.

    BTW, Susan Howatch is one of my all-time favorite authors of INTELLIGENT, historically and spiritually invigorating fiction (I know that sounds like an impossible combo, but it's true). I normally avoid fiction, but she is worth reading.

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  4. HeatherDecember 21, 2011 at 11:25 AM

    I LOVE this excerpt. I really do.

    As I sat in your house the other night, I felt such peace. Your home exuded this warmth and safety. Hard to explain, but in that moment, on that evening especially, it was a thing of beauty.

    Can I come back soon, please??

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  5. Denise Emanuel ClemenDecember 21, 2011 at 11:28 AM

    Sounds a bit like instructions for memoir writing.

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  6. susan t. landryDecember 21, 2011 at 11:45 AM

    that corner, that comfy chair are seriously seductive.

    i have a few spiritual-with-intent books in the bathroom, mostly thich nhat hanh. every once in a while, a random opening offers up just the right amount of enlightenment, at just the right time.

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  7. 37paddingtonDecember 21, 2011 at 12:49 PM

    i love how that happens, the exact passage you need, in a perfect chair in the dappled morning light. this makes me exhale.

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  8. gretchenDecember 21, 2011 at 1:43 PM

    Beautiful.

    I wrote something about you on my blog today. Don't be embarrassed.

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  9. LeslieDecember 21, 2011 at 2:02 PM

    " I reuse, reshape, recast all that goes wrong so that in the end nothing is wasted and nothing is without significance and nothing ceases to be precious to me. "

    thank you for this. so very much. i'm copying this one down, too.

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  10. Ms. MoonDecember 22, 2011 at 6:11 AM

    A very potent reminder of being open to the moment and what it brings.
    I dreamed of you and yours last night, Elizabeth. It was sweet.

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