I have nothing to write: two books.

Apparently, this past week either I have been walking around with my eyes closed, or G-d was playing "hide-and-go-seek" with me. As I thought this weekend about what to put in a post, I ran reels of memories of the past days through my cranial projector. Nothing stuck out. Nothing out of the ordinary or magical happened. But, as I write this, I understand what the problem was/is. I look for the extraordinary while it sits in the ordinary.
Let me explain.
Around 7:20am every Monday, Wednesday, and Friday I drive to Lucas (about 17 miles from my home) for school. The cityscape sometimes becomes dull so I take a slightly longer way to school through the "country". The sun has just jumped above the horizon and is not quite bright enough to cause me to look away. As I top a certain hill (well, "hill" in North Texas means...a slight elevation) I can look to my left and see a "valley" still holding morning fog in the palm of its hands. The sun hits the white mist in a way that makes it glow. I pass this picturesque scene in a mere 4 seconds.
This morning at Bent Tree the teaching revolved around the question "do science and the bible contradict each other?" An interesting and difficult topic to cover, to say the least. Within the discussion, a phrase from Galileo Galilee was used: G-d wrote two books - Nature and Scripture. Brilliant.
Though my week was not as "miraculous" as most would wish, my ordinary ride to school provide an extraordinary encounter.
Slow down. Read G-d's second book.

Premier - Tree with the lights in it

The display name of my blog comes from the mind of Annie Dillard in her brilliant book Pilgrim at Tinker Creek. The "tree with the lights in it" is an observation she made while walking along side Tinker Creek near her home in Virginia. Contrary to simple thought, it was not a Christmas tree wound with electrical bulbs, but a beautiful tree whose leaves let the sunlight seep through in a way to give her mind the illusion of having millions of lights burning among its branches.

The way Dillard writes of this tree, and a multitude of other observations, is created by one action: slowing down. She can craft a mental impression through her writing by first watching, listening, and soaking in her surroundings. What wonderful and awesome things we could see if we, in twenty-first century America, would slow down and watch creation. That is what the "tree with the lights in it" represents to me and hopefully will be a thematic element in my future posts.

I hope to present what I see when I slow down or when I do not slow down. Not just the natural, but the spiritual. I will put it into words as best I can. John Adams wrote to his wife, Abigail, once: "I want to hear you think, or to see your thoughts." For you, the reader, and myself, I want to be able to "see my thoughts."