Connected While Apart
Icon of Joy

my water

Dear Mayfield,
I walked to the lake early this morning on a mission. I knew the photo I wanted to record for our upcoming weekend reflection and worship materials. On the way I met this black dog.  But let me step back for a moment. This morning was one of those mornings when getting up for another coronavirus day reminded me of putting on heavy, misshapen, oversized, poorly-styled, wrongly-colored clothes that just hung on my frame. It was the beginning of another one of those days — tasks to be completed, care to be taken, expectations to be adjusted, surprises to be met. Individually and in community, the piling up of weeks and months of pandemic time has had a way of grinding us down and sapping our energy. It is a challenging season of undetermined length even for the most optimistic among us. The combination of cancelled summer pleasures, health-conscious limitations, a growing loss of life, a struggling planet, devastating storms and fires, difficult questions to face, separation from family and friends, and a clearer focus on core injustices and imbalances in our common life just won’t go away. Such was the context this morning when I met the black dog.

This was one of the few times I ever remember being grateful that a human was absorbed in a smartphone. The dog, not a young dog, a best of show dog, or a cover dog for a pet or veterinary magazine, simply an ordinary dog, was running freely at the end of a long leash that kept unspooling from the handle the human held. Yesterday there were dangerous rip currents in Lake Michigan. They had subsided by today, but the lake remained active and choppy. As every wave hit the shore lined with its protective stair step concrete ramps, the dog barked, danced, dove, and dashed back and forth, into the rising spray, again and again.  The dog’s immersion in the water and in the delight of the moment was intoxicating to watch. At the end of a leash, the dog still tethered to reality, was an icon of joyful play. For the longest while I couldn’t take my eyes off the dog.

Icons illuminate deeper truths. The luminous shines through them. We are tethered to so much hardness right now. Denying that fact doesn’t help us, not really. But part of how we manage to dwell from our more spacious, connected, and compassionate selves is by keeping in mind and heart, small, undefeatable expressions and examples of joy. Sharing them helps too. They are of the spirit, deeply present with the truth that we are not alone. They form a reliable bedrock on which to ground daily life. For me, right now, the icon, the expression, the example of joy that I will call up when I need it will be my new canine friend soaked and happy in the water.  For Heather and her family, it might be the arrival last Sunday morning of another daughter, and a new sister for Charlie, Winnie, and Iris. What about you? If you were to carry around a humble image or icon of joy, within easy reach, what would it be? Name it. Imprint a picture of it within where you can easily find it.
With joyful peace, Martha