
Why do you see the speck in your neighbor’s eye but do not notice the log in your own eye?
- Matthew 7:3
I have spent the better part of two weeks driving multiple times a day to and from the Pointe a la Hache Courthouse on the East Bank. Each time I passed this young log lying in spring grass. Though it is only one log, each side is drastically different, not only in shape, but in the reactions it draws from me.
Whizzing down to the Courthouse, with no time to spare, the formerly beautiful tree’s branches splinter out towards me. Almost as an artillery turret on a ship, it shoots a barrage of splinters into my eyes. In the early days of pre-trial and trial, it shot reminders of tasks pending, immediate tasks that needed attention (such as lunch for my trial team), or a painful reminder of a high priority item at risk of falling through the cracks. As the days and trips wore on, those soft fresh wood splinter bullets changed to hardwood. Aiming their barrage at me sharply using the tasks and responsibilities lagging on my personal to do list and responsibilities in my daily life. That log even managed to torpedo a splinter into the bullseye of my soul, which, I am choosing to call a “discernment opportunity.” Multiple times a day, each day, this view of the log was nothing less than unsettling.
However, on the way back from Point a la Hache, I had a different view of the same log. This log was a big, thick, sturdy log with a curious hollow and hearty laugh. It’s the kind of log on which you could comfortably rest for a minute from a challenging walk, watch cars whiz past, birds fly by, or enjoy a quiet breeze on a beautiful Louisiana spring day. The hole in the trunk, slowly growing bigger, offers a sanctuary to bugs and small critters. In time, it might provide shelter for muskrats, rabbits, or a den for foxes. This view of the log emotes strength, comfort, peace, and shelter. It is my hope-filled glance of the future as we work to restore our beautiful coastal prairies and wetlands.
As I stopped to take the picture of this log, and pondered the meditation this log would write, it was a hot, windy afternoon. Taking the branches picture took no time at all. About as much time as it takes to pass judgement, take the hateful political bait, or cut a disapproving look. Taking the trunk side of the picture took more time. As I was leaving, I had to wait for a couple of cars to whiz past me back upriver. Then, just as I got this shot, a Creole lady coming back down river, slowed down and stopped. “My Baby, everything aight?” Yes, ma’am, just taking a picture. I wish I had asked her to join me for a moment and to pose for a picture on that log. Two different views of the same log, two different women with the same caring souls.
Splinters to divide or logs to unite, we must make the choice with our thoughts, our words, and our vision.
As I drove away, I was transported to 1984 and my EYE (Episcopal Youth Event) singing Peace in the Valley with a guy named Noel.
Peace be with you, always.
Musical Reflection - Noel Paul Stookey - Wait'll You Hear This! - Peace In the Valley
God of all, we give thanks today for the Independence of Mexico and, specifically, for those, in country and out, who work to solidify the civil structure and bolster democratic rule. Give strength to all those who seek to end the violence, drug trade, the human smuggling, and the criminality that has plagued the beauty of Mexico. Bring peace to Mexico, her country and to the lives who call her home. May we live to see the day that all Mexicans are safe, respected, and treasured at home and abroad. Amen.
Login To Leave Comment