Rivers of Rain

The Mississippi River is shallow enough to cross on foot in places, but most of us have to go by bridge or boat.

The first time I saw it, we were crossing it into Memphis. It was a wide, caramel-colored sea, roiling and troubled and rolling slowly south.

What astonishes me now when I look out across it is that it started not as a river but as rain, falling drop by drop by drop.

To Be Grateful

To be grateful for an escape is natural.
To be grateful for a gift is courteous.
To be grateful for a painful day is wise.

Balancing Act

Courtesy balances tolerance. When someone is being tolerant toward me, I should be courteous in return.

Humility balances adoration. When someone showers me with praise, I should remember how small I really am.

Gratitude balances kindness. When someone treats me with kindness, I should fully appreciate the gesture.

Generosity balances attention. When someone offers me their attention, I should give them the best I have to offer.

Pain and Gratitude

When I am in pain, I say thank you.
When I am suffering, I say thank you.
When I am hurting, I say thank you.
When I am cut to the quick, I say thank you.

It is not the pain I am thankful for.
It is the turning point, the insight,
the wisdom, the gift that comes
wrapped up and hidden inside.

Split Mind

A split river is still a river.
A split road is still a road.
A split tree is still a tree.
A split heart is still a heart.
A split mind is anything but still.

A Meditation on Salvation

Salvation does not come from blood.
Salvation does not come from martyrdom.
Salvation does not come from sacrifice.
Salvation does not come from death.

Salvation comes from knowing where you came from.
Salvation comes from knowing where you are headed.
Salvation comes from knowing you are more than flesh and blood and impending death.
Salvation comes from knowing you are so much more than you think you are.

Something About

Something about a mountain teaches a foot to fly.

Something about a river teaches an arm to swim.

Something about a stone teaches a hand to build.

Something about a tree teaches a mind to climb.

Something about a friend teaches a body to sing.

The Deaf Man's Wife

A deaf man's wife received a letter from her sister, whom she had not seen in many years. In the letter, the sister explained she was dying and would not survive the year.

The deaf man's wife immediately left and headed east to tend to her sister. Three days after she arrived, she received word that a tornado had taken away her house -- with her husband inside.

Her sister felt terrible. She knew that if it had not been for her illness, the woman would have been able to hear the storm rising and might have saved her deaf husband.

"Or maybe," the woman answered, "I could not have saved him, and the pain of seeing him die in the storm would have killed me, too."

A Pause in My Education

When I listen, I hear birds in the trees or cars going down the street or dogs barking or wind or rain or dry insect noises in dry fields.

When I look, I see clouds or bare tree limbs or red berries or sunlight on a wet parking lot or the neighbor's cat slinking down the sidewalk.

When I lick, I taste salt or honey or melting butter or bus exhaust or the metallic tang of a screen door or my wife's shoulder.

When I sniff, I smell lightning or burning leaves or coffee or curried rice or rain on pavement or bleach or rotting milk in the refrigerator.

When I touch, I feel running water or sand or gravel or a hot plate or a horse's mane or a satin bed sheet or the front of my own thigh.

When I stop listening and looking and licking and sniffing and touching, I pause in my education of who I am.

The Summer That Might Have Been

One spring, the new leaves on every tree came out in brilliant fall colors -- from pale yellow to deep orange to blood purple.

Everyone in town wondered what it could mean. Some said it was a sign from heaven. Some said it was a sign of impending doom. Some explained it scientifically.

As spring gave way to summer, the leaves darkened into a deep green that grew lighter as the summer wore on. By the time the leaves dropped off in the fall, they were all a bright and vital green, as if they'd just unfurled in a normal spring.

That was years ago, and now, no one can prove it happened or it didn't happen.

But everybody has an opinion.

A Balanced Life

A balanced life is a serene life,
even in the middle of chaos.

A balanced life is a contented life,
even in the middle of suffering.

A balanced life is a simple life,
even in the middle of change.

Balance comes from where
you place the fulcrum.

Two Lost Companions

A man and his companion lost their way on the road one morning and couldn't find any signs or familiar landmarks to tell them where they were. Even so, the man kept driving.

Just as they were both beginning to get worried, he saw a sign pointing the way to a nearby town. With joy, he turned and headed the 30 miles toward it.

His companion asked him why they were going to a town they both knew was in the opposite direction of where they wanted to go.

"Because it is the only thing I know for sure right now," he replied.