A mass of legend and literature, which increases and will never end, has repeated and rung the changes on that single paradox:
that the hands that had made the sun and stars were too small to reach the huge heads of the cattle.
Upon this paradox, we might almost say upon this jest, all the literature of our faith is founded…
I mean that all the eyes of wonder and worship which had been turned outwards to the largest thing were now turned inward to the smallest…
It is true that the spiritual spiral henceforward works inwards instead of outwards, and in that sense is centripetal and not centrifugal.
The faith becomes, in more ways than one, a religion of little things.
– G.K. Chesterton, The Everlasting Man
As the universe expands around us, our faith, in response, spirals inward.
The Hands that flung the stars and planets into their places now reach inside us to grip and hold our hearts.
It’s the little things that feed our faith:
there are so many to remember during this month of waiting.
And it begins with the paradox of small Hands.
Some small bone in your foot is longing for heaven
This twinge at first stir
too modest for throb,
not an itch,
not the most
of a hook,
not a jerk,
but the tease
of the fine, stiff pinions
of every curtained
saint and cherub.
~Hailey Leithauser “Some Small Bone,”
Even the smallest part of us
~each cell, each little bone~
longs to know what to believe.
perhaps heaven is as light and gentle
as a touch of a feather.
maybe heaven is as rich as the illumination
of a full blood moon.
or possibly heaven is as glorious
as a verdant garden.
yet despite our doubts,
or perhaps because of them
heaven longs for
and believes in us.
There was an entire aspect to my life that I had been blind to — the small, good things that came in abundance.
~Mary Karr from The Art of Memoir
Oh, earth, you’re too wonderful for anybody to realize you.
Do any human beings ever realize life while they live it — every, every minute?
We can only be said to be alive in those moments when our hearts are conscious of our treasures.
~Thornton Wilder, quotes from “Our Town”
I once was lost but now am found
Was blind but now I see…
~John Newton from “Amazing Grace”
~~And so I continue to work in the soil of this life, this work, this farm, this faith
to find what yearns to grow, to bloom, to fruit and be harvested to share with others.
With deep gratitude to those of you who visit here and let me know it makes a difference in your day — here is the small and the good from my harvest of words and pictures for you.
With blessings for our joint Thanksgiving,