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"Let the world
have its way with you,
luminous as it is
with mystery
and pain-
graced as it is
with the ordinary."
~Mary Oliver, excerpt, Summer Morning

We have a magical outpouring in our back yard. Under the shade of the magnificent black walnut trees whose roots often keep anything from growing to its fullness, are the sweetest wildflowers. Over the years we have planted so many things that have not flourished and yet each year we give it another try. My husband, fueled by hope, spread one of those premixed bags of seeds under the trees in early spring. And now we are seeing the fruits of his labor. Somehow the poison of the roots of the tree held no power over the wildness of these prairie flowers. Miniature poppies bloom a salmon color while cornflowers burst their blueness against the summer green.(Is there any color like that blue?) And there are countless others whose names I don't know but can only be described as simple, sweet, perfect.

I could spend all day looking at these simple gifts of nature. None are showy like most of the flowers we planted that aren't labeled as 'wild'. The wildflowers are content to be the backdrop. They do not need to be the main attraction. In some ways it turns the word 'wild' upside down, doesn't it?

Looking at these sweet, simple, ordinary blossoms, I think of all the people I know who go through their lives like wildflowers. They bloom where it seems impossible, shining forth color where its most needed, being wild in situations or places where it's unexpected. These people work quietly behind the scenes, caring for children, washing dishes, holding the hand of someone in pain. They are not the lead in the play. Instead they add the quiet burst of color to an otherwise dreary palette in any ordinary day.

Who are the wildflowers in your life? Who quietly brings a smile to your face when you encounter them? Whose presence adds just the right dash of color to your life?  A summer day like this one might provide the perfect opportunity to take note of those wildflowers blooming all around us. It might be the perfect day to notice them, perhaps even thank them, for the gift they are in your life. Even wildflowers need a bit of nurture and care now and then.

"God will not change the condition of a people until they change what is in their hearts." Koran 13:11

I ran across this quote from the Koran a few weeks ago in something I was reading. It is always good for me to be reminded that the world religions have more in common than most of us claim on a daily basis. It seems it is so much easier to talk about our differences than it is to lift up all the many ways we believe, honor, bless in the similar ways. For some reason, as humans, we need to create an 'other' to be able to more fully define our unique place in the world. This practice has not served us well.

It seems the heart and the many attributes we ascribe to it carries across cultures, across religions, across faith traditions. The idea of 'changing our hearts' is found so often in the Christian scriptures as well as the Hebrew texts of our ancestors. We often speak of someone who has changed their behavior for the better by saying 'they must have had a change of heart.'

Now we know that in reality we cannot literally change our hearts except in the instance of a heart transplant. But we often do have a transformation so deep in us that it seems the core of who we are, our heart, has been changed. This organ that keeps us alive as it beats and courses blood through our bodies, that can be broken, that can seem to ache when we are in or out of love, is both real and metaphor to us.

Last week my eyes caught sight of the bumper of the car in front of me on the freeway. "Loving Kindness is my Religion." I smiled and my heart warmed. I glanced quickly at the woman driving. She seemed calm and serene to me…..it could have been my imagination….and she became a prophet for me. It felt good to know that she was headed out into the world to spread loving kindness, acting on 'her religion'. I prayed she had others in her holy club. I prayed I might become on of them.

As I sat down at a table where I would participate in several meetings, one after the other, I wrote on the tablet of paper in front of me: Loving kindness is my religion.  At different times in the meetings, when conversations were difficult, when decisions needed to be made, I glanced down at the words of my freeway teacher.

I felt my heart change. It was a good feeling. I hope my actions followed closely behind. I pray they continue to do so.

I helped a friend celebrate a significant birthday this past week. It was a lovely party, good friends, wonderful food, lots of laughter and a few tears. At one point of the party she offered a toast to her mother who died only a few weeks ago and her new granddaughter who will be born in a very short time. She recognized that she was 'perched between generations.' It was a sweet moment to recognize the life events of this dear friend.

Later in the day I thought of how we are all, in a sense,'perched between generations'. Sometimes we are simply more aware of it than others. As I have been blessed to celebrate so many high school graduations over the last months, I have honored the generation whose births I have witnessed. This particular generation I have watched toddle, then run and now walk bravely, yet with appropriate trepidation, into a new world. At each of these graduation parties the grandparents present look on with pride and satisfaction. The parents, myself included, are still wobbling in a state of wonderment and uncertainty. Wonderment at where the time went and uncertainty for what our children's success and growth will bring, not only for them, but for us. The title 'empty-nester' still has a complicated ring.

And so it has always been. Children are born, they mature and grow. Parents learn to let go and find new ways of being parents. Grandparents look on and remember what their dreams were for their children, grieving loss and celebrating success, whatever those terms mean to them. Each of is always perched between generations.

One of the great gifts of working in the church is that I am privileged to be a part of important life events with people. Last week I celebrated the baptism of a beautiful baby whose mother I knew as a vibrant, inquisitive child. It was a blessing. In just a few moments I am off to sit at the bedside of one of the saints of our community who is the last days of her earthly life. It will also be a blessing. Once again I will touch that thin place of knowing that the membrane between the generations is  beautifully permeable. The blessing comes in knowing that the Spirit holds the web gently so none of us fall through the weave.

"God's love is everlasting and God's kin-dom endures from generation to generation." Daniel 4:34

"I awoke to the confusion of a new day.
The scraps of dreams, memories of yesterday, and new
cravings creeping into awareness.
The sun spilling its light over all but the shadows and a
cacophony of sound
From outside and in
What to make order of? What to let go?
And who makes the choice?
I think I will go down to the river and just watch it flow,
It's been a long time since I have done something really
important."
~David Sluyter

I am sure I have probably shared this poem before in this space. I come upon
it every now and then in a book or a file where I have kept it for 'future
reference'. It is always a good reminder to me of how often I lose sight of
this deep wisdom.

Yesterday was a good example. Driving home from the office I was taking
stock of my day. While I had virtually moved nonstop, I was unclear if what I
had spent the moments of my day doing, was actually important. It is difficult
to know some days, isn't it? What are the details, the acts, the conversations,
the meetings, that really add up to become something truly important in the
grand scheme of things? It is the question we arise with each day, though we
rarely address it, as we try to make sense of our work, our relationships, our
life.

Making a life is a curious endeavor. The choices we make in our life's
construction are driven by many things-our circumstances, our worldview,
others' opinions of us, the need to please, our deep passions. What guides us
can be both beneficial and detrimental. How we choose what is important, if we
choose, makes all the difference.

The Holy One has given us not only one another as companions but also
the deep wisdom of Creation to be our guides. For instance, is the river ever
distracted from being its true self? Does a tree ever resist the urge of growth
toward the heavens? Do the dahlias blooming in our garden right now ever doubt
their beauty, their reason for being? Does the Sun ever decide
not to rise on the new day, the Moon choose to take a night off? We have much to learn from these gifts so
visible to us if we only open our eyes, our hearts.The pure
wisdom of these fellow travelers can be a guide to us.

What does your day hold? What is on your to-do list? What do you have to
accomplish today that is truly important? The wisdom of the universe is all
around us, guiding us to see with our whole lives.

Our only real work is to listen deeply, to open ourselves to this
gift, and to choose well. It could make all the difference in the world.