I paddled across the harbor against the light wind.
The cool spray of the small chop dancing off the
bow of my kayak sprinkled my face like a gentle
morning wake up. It's been a long winter this year,
and although it is the middle of June in New England,
and just a few days from the summer solstice, it
feels as though winter has only recently left us.
I paddled around the looming water tower and into
the shallow cove. This is not a place I could kayak
into anytime but around high tide. When the tide
recedes, it leaves a muddy, stone strewn terrain,
littered with wood, the occasional boot, and the
grasses and seaweed lying sadly limp in the drying
sun.
As I entered the cove, my attention was captured
by the grasses along the water's edge. There beneath
the shadow of the massive water tower, alongside
a little sandy beach the size of large porch, the
grasses and the seaweed grew together in an attractive
little arrangement. The water moved softly among
the grasses, and the seaweed seemed to breathe in
and out with the gentle lapping of the wind blown
ripples.
Despite a long harsh winter; despite generations
of pollution at the hands of men; despite the daily
grind of the tides coming and going, at once leaving
the cove empty, and then returning to fill it again;
this small corner of nature's beauty remains, and
in fact thrives.
I am amazed at the hardiness of beauty.
Not far from the paved road, the chain link fence,
and the hard stone embankments built by men, beauty
and life were quietly prospering. The surroundings
had been built with what looked like an attempt
to drive nature back, but it was to no avail.
We put up our metal fences, and they grow rusty
in the hard New England winters. We place our stone
walls and pave our asphalt roads, and they tumble
down, and crack making room for the gentle but relentless
growth of life. The hard winters come, and beat
down the things men erect, but the grasses, the
flowers, and trees merely hibernate waiting for
their time to surprise us once again each spring.
The resilience of life and beauty will outlive the
brutal harshness of humanity's destructive ways,
and this world's calamities. I am convinced that
it is the same with the God-touched human soul.
"Being born again, not of corruptible seed,
but of incorruptible, by the word of God, which
liveth and abideth for ever." (1 Peter 1:23)
Within the heart of the God loving individual lives
a seed of life which is springing up into beauty.
This life of the heart, like the life on the edge
of the cove is hammered by the storms of calamity.
Harsh, long seasons of cold, and brutal lashings
of storms batter the human heart like the calamities
which attack our coastlines. Yet the strength of
this "God-life" is able to withstand the
pounding of life's difficulties.
"Who shall separate us from the love of
Christ? shall tribulation, or distress, or persecution,
or famine, or nakedness, or peril, or sword? As
it is written, For thy sake we are killed all the
day long; we are accounted as sheep for the slaughter.
Nay, in all these things we are more than conquerors
through him that loved us. For I am persuaded, that
neither death, nor life, nor angels, nor principalities,
nor powers, nor things present, nor things to come,
Nor height, nor depth, nor any other creature, shall
be able to separate us from the love of God, which
is in Christ Jesus our Lord." (Romans 8:35-39)
As I paddled around the cove, and back out again,
I came to a rocky ledge covered with grasses blowing
softly at the water's edge. Beneath the surface
of the water, the seaweed swayed gently. A tern
stood in the grass peering at me. Life brings other
life, and life supports other life. The grasses
at the water's edge become a gathering spot for
birds and sea creatures. Perhaps this too is a model
of the God-touched human soul.
Life begets life. Life supports other life, and
life attracts other life. Perhaps there is no end
of its potential. Birthed in human hearts by the
"incorruptible Word of God" is a beauty
and a life which begets more beauty and life. It
supports other life, and attracts more beauty and
life to itself.
I am amazed at the hardiness of beauty, and I am
thankful that it has the potential to live in the
God-touched human heart.
