Easter

My heart overflows with a pleasing theme;
my tongue is like the pen of a ready scribe.

            -Psalm 45

Three weeks ago someone called, “How’s school?”

“It’s great. I wouldn’t take anything back. I am exactly where I need to be . . . but sometimes I wish I had some answers.”

Put not your trust in princes, when his breath departs, he returns to the earth;
    on that very day his plans perish.

            -psalm 146

That thought stayed with me. A two weeks ago I was ready to drop out. What am I doing here? What do I want to do? What were my dreams?  I was like that papery skin shed by an insect. I used to be full of life and happiness. Friends would bring me immense joy.  A sudden idea, a piece of common beaut, asking questions were things that ignited me. But now, all I just work. I study or work 10-12 hours most days. But worse, I don’t even hope of finding any of the answers I thought. That’s just philosophy. You build a sand castle and watch the waves destroy it.

On Easter our pastor asked us, what we dream of. I remember when I dreamed of building a cozy glass home tucked into a sun-soaked hill. Of planting apple trees, and cherry, pear, and plum trees besides! I once dreamed of seeing America’s railroads restored so that passengers could speed from coast to coast drinking in the wild beauty untroubled by traffic. I dreamed of honesty and integrity becoming the pillars of Washington. Of seeing people care for each other. Of finding ways to be healthy without drugs, surgeries, and shots. Of inventing hydro-electric energy from the push and pull of ocean waves.  Of prairies restored, of rivers clean enough to drink from, of food shared with friends and family gathered close, of walks at sunset, of books read near wood burning stoves in winter. Of peace, abundance, and honest joy.

So what am I doing studying philosophy?

Today, if you hear his voice,
do not harden your hearts, as at Meribah.

            -Psalm 95

As Easter approached I gave up coffee, Facebook, and refined sugar. What! How did I live! It felt so good.

Easter morning I woke up early and read. I made two pies, finished a soup, and put a few brush strokes in on a painting. Then I went to church. We arrived three minutes late. Two ladies were still getting coffee in the foyer—whew not that late!  There was no singing, just a sermon and the sermon only lasted twenty minutes! But it was refreshing. Spring air flowed like silk through the open windows. Light breathed life into the stained glass Easter-lilies. Then it dawned on me. I had come an hour late! We had only made it for the last twenty minutes. And yet, it was perfect. Everyone was filled with happiness to the core.

I was planning to host an Easter feast, so I rushed home. Anthony and Rachel wer already at my house! Meagan and Audrey started cooking. Not long after Randy and his wife Heather arrived with their three year old Evelyn and six month old Gretta. Tim kept good records playing. And Michael (Chestnut)—maybe the best looking grad student in the department (I say that because he reminds me of Brad Pitt . . .)— came bearing a cast iron of fresh cornbread. There was Tuscany white bean soup and sweet potatoes, traditional Chinese asparagus, black-eyed peas, stir fried collards, and slow roast ham. Several of us were vegan and Chestnut was also gluten free but there was food aplenty! After we finished, I told everyone there were pies: a blueberry and a pecan. Did I mention that they were gluten free and vegan? Chesnut’s face was priceless: like a boy on Christmas morning!  Vegan-gluten freers always get left out.

Soon we found ourselves outside crossing over a stream on a wooden bride hidden by trees.  There a grassy lawn sprawls studded by a few small trees and one mighty elm. I keep coming back to that elm. We talked, we laughed, we sat silently the wind and sun on our faces. When we returned Meagan’s food was ready. More pie was had. More wine. More laughing, debating, and lounging. One by one they trickled out until only Tim and I were left.

“What are you thinking?”

I was thinking that I could not have been happier.  Or more full.

“How about a walk?” I said.

We headed in the fading light towards a patch of woods that I was sure had a hidden trail. Sure enough, we found one. It lead to marsh where we looked at the stars. Further along, we found a huge pond lined in marshy grasses. Across it a huge wispy willow was just visibly. The water was so smooth we could see the stars in its reflection. We watched the red light of a plane blink across the surface. In the distance was a huge building with windows full of light. Was it a hotel? We couldn’t tell.

“Something’s over there.”

We heard leaves breaking. I saw something dark. No, it was a white cat. NO! It was a SKUNK! We backed away slowly and then darted. I saw it scurry in the opposite direction.

Through the trees we came across the wall of light— the mysterious building. We walked right up to it. After much discussions we decided it had to be a private home.

“What if they catch us?” Tim whispered.

“I’d ask for a tour. Oh no, I see someone putting on their coat,” I said.

We dashed back across the field and dove behind some trees. One by one seven sets of families or couples left the house. We watched them all go each leaving slowly after the last—probably saying long Easter good-byes. When it was clear we found our way into another forest.

“What’s this say?”

“Private property.”

“It’s on both sides, which side do you think is private property.”

“Probably the way we came from.”

“Well, I don’t want to break rules. Better get on the other side.”

We did not wake up the homeowner whose lovely land we crossed.

Walking back, the topic somehow turned to how I once wanted to be a navy seal. You have be incredibly skilled, fit, and brave. It requires your entire being. I used to take ice baths to prepare for “hell week.”  I would dress up in camouflage and face paint and tell my mom I was going to the top of the bluff. I would inch my way down over hours. She was supposed to call out when she saw me. She never caught me. Years later I realized she may never have been watching. My parents would read me books written by ex-seals and edit the language—they said blank-et-y-blank a lot. Most of all, I dreamed of being a sniper, taking days to get inch up to a target invisible. To take one shot and vanish like mist.

“What changed?”

“I got glasses. Also it was around that time I read Lord of the Rings. Suddenly I loved trees, not just as trees, but as dryads and Ents. I started to love the names of trees. And poetry.”

We got back and ate more pie. Then washed our feet because one can get poison ivy from even just the stocks—at least I can.

In spring things being again. Seeds long hidden in the ground sprout. The sun hangs in the sky giving us more day. I have dreams that I planted long ago and forgot about. A few weeks ago I felt like I had died. But here I am, after the best Easter of my life. My heart is full. I am ready to go to work again. To chase incredible dreams. I may not succeed, but curse me if I do not try.

How fitting that Easter is when the dead are brought to life again.

He is risen.

You open your hand; you satisfy the desire of every living thing.

-psalm 145