It’s a lovely spring day here at Cathedral Drive Farm. The sun is shining in a clear, absolutely cloudless, blue sky.
I walk around making mental notes of all there is to do: a big pile of scrap wood to sort out and do something with; new eavestroughing to put on the new roof I built last fall for the extension on the house; a big barn-door to rebuild after it got blown off during a winter storm; and last but by no means least, garden-ground to cultivate when it’s dry enough, maybe by the end of this month.
But there’s something I can’t get out of my mind, a cloud hanging over that to-do list. It’s not that I’m getting on in years and the energy just isn’t there to the same extent as it used to be: as long as I get started and keep going I can still out-work many a young man.
No, that’s not it.
It’s the man in the White House, President and Commander-in-Chief of the most powerful, military machine in the world, on the verge of starting a major war; and quite possibly a nuclear one at that.
It’s Good Friday, one of the holiest days in the Christian calendar. I asked myself, “What would Jesus Do?”
Weep, I think, for sure.
I came into the house weighed down with those thoughts, feeling incredibly helpless, about the possible destruction of my little world with my little hopes and dreams and plans.
And you, and your’s, my billions of bretheren out there on this beautiful, little blue-green jewel of a planet in the universe?
Aren’t you just like me, wanting to live, to do the best we can wherever we happen to be with the prescious moments that remain? And don’t we want to leave something good and hopeful as our legacy to future generations of our children?
I had left the radio on, tuned to my usual CBC-FM station.
And, believe it or not, I soon realized I was hearing well-known, Canadian singer-songwriter, Bruce Cockburn, singing one of his best-known songs, “Waiting for a Miracle.”
I thought, how appropriate, how interesting.
And then I started thinking about how we human beings have certain special, deep-seated powers, beyond measure, as long as we don’t lose them as a result of neglect.
I believe in the power of prayer. I happen to be, in my way, a Christian. But I don’t think the power of spirituality and prayer in the service of Good is exclusive to Christians, or any other religion, or none, for that matter.
We are spiritual beings. I hold that truth to be self-evident, if I may quote the American Declaration of Independence.
Individually, and now especially in a time of urgent need, collectively, we have the power to make things happen with spiritual energy focused in prayer.
This is a very good day for as many of us as possible to say, let us pray.
Let’s pray for Peace.
Let’s not wait for a miracle; let’s make one.
4 thoughts on “Let’s make a miracle”
Here here … Marianne
Was that comment some kind of Freudian slip, Marianne? If so, nice play on words. I immediately went from here to your site and zeroed in right away, of course, on your “thong” blog. With or without the rip, it was a delight. Nice pic, too, by the way, if you know what i mean.
LikeLiked by 1 person
Aw gee shucks Phil. Your comment would almost make me blush … if I didn’t know it was from a guy who must be spending way too much time on a farm to think my pic was nice haha. 🙂
okay Marianne. Okay. But lookee here gal, I may be a farmer, but I’ve been around. Know what I mean? And that looked like a pretty good “pic.”
LikeLiked by 1 person