In my part of New England, spring comes in three parts. There is the first glimpse of crocuses and similar small bulbs (snowdrops?) which happened in early March. Then there is the daffodil time. Finally, there's a long wait until, as the song says, "June is bustin' out all over."
This past weekend, April 11, 2010, I drove west through the Boston suburbs to Framingham. All of a sudden I noticed that the daffodil time had arrived. Daffodils, forsythia, and tulips! Andromeda, cherry trees, magnolias! I passed a large lawn that was carpeted with blue from a million little flowers that would take your breath away like it took mine. As spring does every year, it seemed to have happened overnight.
I was on my way to the final of three days of training in how to lead the curriculum "Our Whole Lives – Sexuality and Our Faith" <http://www.ucc.org/justice/sexuality-education/our-whole-lives.html>
Our group of 17, including two master instructors, was an unusually open, trusting, bold, caring, wise, experienced, non-anxious gathering. Mostly strangers to each other, we found gentleness and confidence, both of which grew. The adjectives just want to keep coming with a group like this! Beautiful (did I say beautiful yet?), strong, funny, eager for the real information to be shared, ...
So it is not surprising, perhaps, that as I drove through spring, I remembered that all the profusion of blossoms was there to invite and facilitate the sexual life in the gardens, yards, and malls of Metrowest Boston. While evolution shows us how the incremental changes of millennia oh-so-slowly move toward diversity and niche-finding, we live today, in this very moment. Will you then excuse us if, knowing all that I know (and you knowing all that you know) we look upon the miracle that is a daffodil and see it as a gift to "this very moment." ...and once known to be a gift, if we overflow with thanks?
Life utters a word. The word is "be!" The word is "now!" The word gives all life agency. We shall not take that away. Not this morning! For it has been gazed upon with love and out of that love comes the next word, "It is good!"
Will you sing with me?
Morning has broken like the first morning!
Blackbird has spoken like the first bird!
Praise for the singing, praise for the morning,
Praise for the springing fresh from the word!
Peace and Blessing,
Brad
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