Gladness.
Just now the wren from Carolina buzzed through the neighbor’s hedge
A line of grace notes I couldn’t even write down much less sing.
Now he lifts his chestnut colored throat and delivers such a cantering praise—for what?
For the early morning, the taste of the spider, for his small cup of life
That he drinks from every day, knowing it will refill.
All things are inventions of holiness, some more rascally than others.
I’m on that list too, though I don’t know exactly where.
But, every morning, there’s my own cup of gladness,
And there’s that wren in the hedge, above me, with his blazing song.
~ Mary Oliver
pentecost, week 2.
This is a particularly busy, focused season in our lives. Maybe you can relate.
We have one week now to finish packing up our entire home and placing all our belongings in storage. In that same week, we are finishing several projects and papers for our spring semester at Portland Seminary. Meanwhile we are packing to travel to several different locations over the coming months while arranging for our vacation rental business to prosper in our absence. It’s a lot!
So I’ve been reflecting on resiliency. What causes me to shrink in frantic worry under some pressures, yet find joyful energy in others? It can go either way, right? For most of my life, I have not done well under pressure—I mean, I perform! But my soul is in knots. Lately, though, I’ve been accessing a new river of grace that leaves me feeling confident, focused, and empowered. I love it!
When I read Mary Oliver’s simple ode to the Carolina Wren this morning (if you skipped it above, read it now!), what registered was the power of gladness. All of creation seems to tap into this stream unwittingly—the poplars sway gladly in the spring wind, the woodpecker hogs sunflower seeds on my deck, gladly, the sunshine breaks through several days of sodden clouds and deposits its gladness in my heart. They each drink from their “small cup of life… knowing it will refill.” But do I? Do we?
Once we power through this week, co-creating with God and pivoting around obstacles, Kellie and I will travel to the Netherlands to visit our family there. There we will have virtually no responsibilities and can gratefully relax, savoring the fruit of running hard for three months and delighting in our children and grandchild. I can’t wait. After that, we begin a 500-mile trek on the Camino de Santiago, the fulfillment of a long-held dream. And while this journey will bring delights, it will undoubtably also bring pressures. Inviting fresh resiliency. Fresh gladness.
This is what journeys do, whether we’re talking about a literal footpath or the daily trek through our lives. Journeys press us and reward us. They delight us and they frustrate us. Can I drink from my own cup of gladness when my legs are spent, my clothes are drenched, and we can’t find a hostel with extra beds? What then? This is the test of self-leadership.
I’ve been reading the extraordinary story of Sir Ernest Shackleton who led several attempts to reach the geographic south pole in the Antarctic, never quite reaching his goal but leading and saving his crew in ways that earned him commendation as "the greatest leader that ever came on God's earth, bar none." And reading his story, I agree. Shackleton’s greatest test of self-leadership came when his ship Endurance had been held fast in the ice for almost a year waiting for a thaw. But a storm causes the ice to heave and buckle, crushing his ship and sinking it. His crew of 30 men are stranded on an ice floe, hundreds of miles from any other humans.
Standing on the ice watching his ship and much of their supplies turn into wreckage while 30 sets of eyes look to him, now that’s a test. I don’t know if Shackleton tapped into an inner cup of gladness right that moment, but we do know that his confidence never faltered. He gathered his men around, discussed their options, laid out a plan, and asked for their fresh commitment. Which they readily gave. It would be another year before they set foot back in England, but their resiliency brought all but three men safely home.
As we continue to navigate the uncertainties of Pentecost, I hope you can, like the wren, drink deeply of the Divine Gladness that surrounds us all, no matter how pressured the circumstances.
growing your soul
Name your pressures. Name your gladness.
serving our world
Gladness of heart brings a generosity of spirit where we can give to others even when we are under fire.
takeaway
Drink Deeply.