Bleak Winter Beauty

a story of bleak beauty on a winter day while walking to church and reflections on faith and love.

I set out on my walk last Sunday to Camas United Methodist Church and see one lone worm stretched out on the cold sidewalk. Wow, he’s venturing out on a frosty morning in thirty five degree heat. I continue my walk and stop to  look up at bare branches spread out against a blue sky. Just a few weeks ago, they were alive with autumn colors of orange, yellow, and red; now they display a bleak winter beauty. It is colder on blue sky days, but I am snug in jeans and a fleecy Columbia pullover with designs of brown bears and brown trees.

At church, Pastor Don Shipley recites a poetic prayer beginning with:  “In the bleakness of winter, Jesus came to us.” I reflect on my spiritual journey and changes in which I view Christ. Was Jesus entrance into humanity “Good News” if he came to deliver a portion of mankind (those who believe correctly), while the rest of humanity loses out? I listen to a reading from Matthew 3. A group of religious elite had come to listen to the preaching of John the Baptist as he announced the arrival of a savior, Jesus. Glaring at them, he calls them “a brood of vipers” (verse 7). Their religious teachings are venomous, holding people back (www.got questions.org). The Good News of Jesus coming to us was not for the religious elite; it was for all. In Luke 3:5-6, John the Baptist states:

Every valley will be filled in

every mountain and hill made low.

The crooked roads shall become straight,

and rough ways smooth.

And all mankind will see God’s salvation.

All mankind. Those who believed. Those who didn’t. Those who are venomous snakes. Those who are gentle doves.

I reflect, too, on the central message of the Good News, that God loves us and we can love others. I see true love illustrated during communion. As individuals and family groups go forward to receive communion, I see an elderly woman walking painfully and slowly up the aisle, followed by an silver-haired man in a red plaid jacket. She receives her communion and kneels to pray. He receives his communion and then  reaches his hand for hers, helping her to rise. Hand in hand they walk back to their seat. I was deeply touched. I wonder if they’ve been through years together. Children? Hardships? Joys? Health problems? Or maybe they’ve lost spouses and found each other in recent years?

As I walk home from church, I see a rainbow flag in the door of a house. It stands in solidarity with the message of love. Later, I pass a home that displays a sign in their window: “Black lives really do matter.” I feel hopeful. The world is going a little crazy. Our country seems to be battling  hate and fear. But, still, there are signs of love.

I get almost home and look for the lone worm on the sidewalk. It is slowly moving toward the grass. It has made progress. And maybe, in humanity’s bleak winter, we, too, are making progress.

 

Reviews

[Chris Shaw]

I love your thoughts here Shelley. We find ourselves certainly in a bleak place, in a winter when it comes to humanity. But then, there are always little acts of kindness, which put a silver hem on those dark clouds.

Chris

[Shelley Warner]

Yes, that's true. I read this story to my boyfriend, along with a few others last weekend. He liked this one the best.

[Samuel Dickens]

I like this. Your view of Christianity seems much like my own. While I see a God of love, understanding and forgiveness, others see one of anger and punishment.
I see worms like that, too. Sometimes I pick them up and put them on the grass.

[Shelley Warner]

Yes, it's been a long journey for me out of conservative Christianity. You know, I thought of picking up the worm and moving it but I was afraid I'd hurt it. I've been wondering if I should rename this story "The Lone Worm". I don't know.