Taking Emily to ballet lessons the other day we came across a flock of wild turkeys in a winter wheat field. There must have been about 30 of them. On another venture we saw a herd of deer. This morning a good sized coyote ran across the road in a freshly plowed soy-bean field. The Great Horned Owl hoots in a large cottonwood tree near our house. Occasionally a blaze of red streaks across my line of vision. It is the bold Cardinal making a fashion statement in the drab brown and grey of late fall.
The temperature has so far dipped down into the mid-teens this past week. An elctric circuit breaker was thrown in the garage, cutting power to the heaters in the water trough. A two inch layer of ice formed on the top, which I had to bust up and clear out of the way. The horses appreciated the gesture but my leather gloved hands did not.
As we enter the spell of winter I am reminded that our journey takes us through many seasons. The simple minded think that each is distinct and carries its own unique characteristics. Of course that is not true. The fawns that will be dropped next spring were conceived during the last few weeks. The wheat that will be harvested next summer stands like green grass in the fields today.
Our journey with God is the same. The "ages and stages" of life and faith are not distinct cartons of experience. One grows into the other, carrying the remarkable signs of age, vitality, awe, wisdom, joy, and fear. One inspires the other, teaches the other, and warns the other. These are the coursers of our spiritual journey.
Thus we cycle through the liturgical year with Advent, Christmas, Epiphany, Lent, Easter, and so on. Every step leaves behind and also carries with it the journey we have taken and will take. The seasons remind us that faith is the pilgrimage we must walk if it is going to take us any place at all. Faith is the adventure of the soul, regardless of the changes of climate and season. In our rucksack are fresh apples picked last month and cord seeds for planting come April.
Merry Christmas.
