Tell me, what do you plan to do with your one wild and precious life?”
~Mary Oliver

Today I am thinking about Life. That is life with a capital ‘L’. I know. It is a big subject for a Friday, for a beginning of a weekend. But yesterday I was privileged to lead a memorial service for one of our saints who lived life in a way that blinked neon, that flashed her force into the world. At 97 years, she continued to squeeze every ounce of enthusiasm out of every day. Even at the times she was caused to slow down or deal with a fall or a health issue, she pushed back to find new ways of doing things, adapting, refusing to give in to the seemingly inevitable path of aging. Surrounded by the many quotes she saved and put into scrapbooks, words that inspired her and kept her mind alert, we were bathed in a wisdom that was humbling. Filled with story after story of her often cantankerous spirit, we laughed at the way in which she reached out and grabbed the world by the neck, often shaking it to its senses. While her body may have been failing her, she had continued to be so vital, so curious, so stubborn, so alive that she refused to let what her body could not do keep her from another opportunity for living. Fully. Wholly. With a capital ‘L’.

As friends and family shared stories of this amazing woman, you could feel the energy in the room lift and begin to vibrate with electricity. I looked around at the faces and saw their own aliveness reflected back. From the oldest to the youngest in the room we all felt the challenge that had been placed before us by this wonderful, small but mighty person. Will each of us follow her example? Will we get up every day, see it for the gift it is, and make the plan to learn something new, read something that challenges us, and give back to the world? Will we?

Throughout the Hebrew and Christian scriptures there are moments when the Spirit’s movement becomes so palpable that people are awakened to a new way of living. Most of the time it is a surprise to those present. The Spirit blows across the darkness of waters creating a world teeming with creatures, plants, life. Moses is doing what he has always done, boring shepherd work, when the Spirit blows through a bush and the fire of living burns into him. Ezekiel looks out over the deadness of his nation and watches the Spirit move among bone and vertebra forming a new body. Mary walks along a path filled with injustice so common it has become her food until the Spirit breathes new life into her welcoming womb causing her to say “Yes!” Saul is blinded by the Spirit and becomes the voice for a fledgling group of followers of the Way of Jesus as he chooses life and the new name of Paul.

The Spirit can be rascally. In fact most of the time it is. And yesterday as I was witness to the memories and the stories of the one whose life we had come to celebrate, I saw that rascally nature writ large on the faces of those present. This woman who was so full of life, who was so challenging and at the same time so inspiring, had been for us all the Spirit in its nudging, invigorating, even sometimes annoying form. That electricity that danced above and among us was the energy of this spirit made manifest.

So today the challenge for me, as I hope it is for those who were a part of yesterday’s memorial, is to choose this day with intention. To choose to live it to its fullest. To learn something new. To read something that challenges me. To tell my story. To live life with a capital ‘L’. It seems the only honorable response to an encounter with this rascally Spirit.

Thanks, Ruth, for the wake up and the not so gentle nudge