I took a walk yesterday – in a garden – alone (except for
the snake) – isolated in the woods. All
things about that statement pretty much terrify me. I’m not a nature gal, but appreciate it. I’m rarely alone…so much so that my ears ring
when it is quiet. And snakes – don’t get
me started! I drive into the gardens and trails with an air of fear agitating me. I pay to park, seeing only a mother and her young
boys and the guide in the welcome center.
He says, “Take this path to the labyrinth…it’s…um, just better…you’ll
see.”
I step forward, all fear dissipating…the beauty and wonder
before me. It is a blue sky, breezy, sun
prism day – early fall, the crunch of leaves under my feet – not cool, not
hot. I head down the path, past the
tended gardens, into the woods; enveloped in greenery overhead, beside, in
front. I turn and see the wooden bridge
over the algae blanketed pond. Noises of
crickets and katydids welcome me. I
cross and enter the path. I listen to the
babble of the brook, the steady rush of the waterfall into the stream.
I almost step on his chain-linked pattern body – tiny snake
in the path. He has heard me pounding up
and is still…head poised up, listening.
I can’t resist him and stop to take a picture – the only picture of this
trip. He enchants me and I whisper, “You
are so cute!”
I twist and turn on the path…the leaf and tree markers a
blur in my peripheral. As much as I
would like to read them all and linger, I’m keenly aware of my mission and the
fact that the sun sets earlier these days and I’m alone in this desolation.
I approach the last bend before the labyrinth. I pause at the opening and read –
instructions, etiquette. Labyrinth – “an
intricate combination of paths or passages in which it is difficult to
find one's way or to reach the exit. A
maze of paths bordered by high hedges, as in a park or garden, for the
amusement of those who search for a way out.” (www.dictionary.com) While this is the formal definition of the
area I am about to enter, I made the pilgrimage here to find something and rest
in the confidence that I am not lost. In
fact, I am sure I am found.
I pray as I walk into the limestone labyrinth path…silently,
surely…trudging quietly; grasshoppers and locusts spraying outwards from the
prairie grass as I disturb their rest; sun warming my face. I am euphoric in my thanks and praise – not
the usual tone of my discourse with God.
I listen, crunching feet, sun hiding in a small rainbow behind a
cloud. God tells me he loves me. Of course, I knew, but like any relationship,
it is important to be reminded. He keeps
saying, “Be quiet, my child.” Why is
this so hard for me, for us? I prattle
on in my mind. I pray quietly and
slowly. In the middle of my quest God
says, “I am mighty and strong and it would do you well to remember.” Oh how often I have forgotten! Put God in a box – limit him to my own
understanding of the circumstances and situation. And when we hurt – don’t we restrict him
further? Our pain in constant focus and
his universe blurred, distorted…greatness lost in our human amnesia.
Somehow this makes me laugh – because I am his child and
there is a bit of scolding in his voice.
I promise that I will remember. I
reach the center of the labyrinth. I sit
in the quiet – sun blazing past the cloud…I move to another boulder, to feel
the heat on my back.
I don’t want to walk out, but I perceive the sun
sinking. I am quiet now and I hear the
words to an old, old song my mom sang in church. I see a shadow pass over me – a hawk. The song echoes in my memory, “And he will
raise you up on eagle’s wings, bear you on the breadth of dawn, make you to
shine like the sun, and hold you in the palm of his hand.” A reminder, promise, wonder, majesty, glory, our
smallness, his infiniteness.
I take the sunny path back through the prairie grasses. I hear the crackly, ocean-like sound of the
breeze blowing through the birch trees.
This experience so ordinary from the outward appearance, such mystery,
and over abundant gift to my inner psyche.
