Yesterday the Steeelers won – won easily.
A week ago the Steelers lost – lost badly.
There was a significant difference in the quality of the teams they played,
but there was also a significant difference in the way they played.
So the question is:
are they as good as this past Sunday
or as bad as the previous Sunday
or does reality lie somewhere in between?
19 September 2011
Shire on the Hudson
Filed under Football
Filed under National Park
In the morning, early in the morning,
far too early in the morning,
I rise and stumble toward the bathroom,
the vista out my window catches my attention;
I pause to watch the sun dance in shades of red
on the buildings of Morningside Heights,
calling to mind the mesas on the Colorado Plateau.
For the longest time I stand,
feeding my spirit on the city canyons’ beauty.
17 September 2011
Shire on the Hudson
Filed under Poem
It’s your move.
The words startled him;
his head jerked up,
he shifted in his seat.
For the briefest of moments, their knees touched,
bare flesh warm on bare flesh.
He quickly moved his leg away
as though he had seared it on a stove’s lit burner.
It’s your move, came the repeated words.
Their eyes locked,
one soul peering deep into another.
What happens next is up to you.
The clear invitation echoed in his head
and pierced his heart.
His breathing quickened as he pondered the words,
envisioning what might be,
sensing opportunity,
imaging possibilities of joy,
considering consequences.
He broke the gaze and looked down,
staring intently,
absorbed a whirlpool of thought,
momentarily lost in eddies of emotion.
After an eternal ninety-seven seconds,
he leaned forward and, smiling broadly,
reached out his hand and took
queen’s knight to c3.
16 September 2011
Shire on the Hudson
Filed under Poem
Riding up in the elevator today with someone I had not seen in a while, and the conversation went like this:
Did you make it through Hurricane Irene, OK?
I did fine. I was in Oklahoma.
That’s one way to avoid it.
They had lots of coverage. I watched.
How was Oklahoma?
It was good. Well, it was hot. 117 degrees.
117? (image a sense of amazement and wonder in the tone of voice)
Yes. But it wasn’t so bad. It was a dry heat. Not humid like here.
At this point, the elevator reached his floor. Now I realize that humidity matters. Matters a great deal. One of the things I like about northern New Mexico is the lower humidity. But . . . so as he left the car, I said:
But 117 is still 117.
(laughing) 117 is still 117.
Enjoying cooler weather and hoping it continues!
See you along the Trail.
Filed under New York
Sean completed the 2011 Ironman Wisconsin in Madison a short time ago. I am impressed. I look forward to hearing his stories.
In the St. James Presbyterian Church office,
under the gaze of the Rev. Dr. Lenton Gunn,
who had served on the Advisory Committee of the
Presbyterian Hunger Program at the same time I did,
a parallel of timing occurred to me:
in early October 2000, I moved to Louisville
and so had been there not yet a year
when on a crisp, bright, blue, beautiful New York day,
the attacks of September 11, 2001 took place,
in early October 2010, I moved to Manhattan
and so had been here not yet a year
when on a crisp, bright, blue, beautiful New York day,
the city, the country, the world
remembered the attacks for the tenth time.
What to make of this? I know not.
I note the parallel, but my understanding remains
unfinished.
11 September 2011
St. James Presbyterian Church
Shire on the Hudson
Filed under Poem
On this day of sadness and pride, remembrance and looking forward, St. James Presbyterian Church used the worship resources for the 10th Anniversary of September 11, 2001 today during worship. We shared in the sacrament of the Lord’s Supper.
Members of the congregation had the opportunity to make Ribbons of Hope which were delivered to Battery Park (my pictures from there did not work).
As often happens, a number of international visitors joined the congregation.
It was a blessing and an honor to worship with and preach to the saints of St. James.
See you along the Trail.
A couple of days ago, a conversation led me to reflect on rain as the tears of God. A friend said that his mother had told him the rain is God’s tears.
I took the approach of God weeping over the pain we inflict on each other – the ways we hurt one another – the damage we do. The ways we treat each other certainly grieves God sorely. Indeed, it seems that God could weep eternally over ways we violate God’s children. Sorrow, pain, grief, rage, all produce tears.
In response to my reflection, my friend Grace posed a simple question: “Are there ever tears of joy?”
I suspect that the events I was dealing with last week narrowed my vision and limited my thinking. Many things touch our hearts, minds, spirits, souls. The beauty of the world may make us weep. The wonder of love may cause us to cry. Amazing grace, incredible courage, profound sacrifice, all may elicit tears.
Tears of joy? Absolutely. Every day. Thanks be to God.
See you along the Trail.
Along the Graybeard Trail 