No sooner did I begin to explore the kingdom of God within than my Boss assigned me to go on a journey to the northern ends of this old and gorgeous earth, that is the Orkney islands of Scotland.
So, here I am walking and riding beneath a gigantic umbrella of a sky decorated with an ever-changing cloud display, listening to angels hearts gush out songs, mesmerized by the views of mine eyes. I am here reminded why most people have no room within for other kingdoms.
To love this earth and these flowers and these people so much, and to contain the place of the eternal refuge from death is to need long legs. Long and muscular legs. Legs that can leap from planet to planet, that sometimes touch down on both together. Who but a gymnast would aim for such fancy dancing?
While here I read that saintly Celtic gymnasts from eras long forgotten considered time to be a gift of God, like beloved nature.
A gift! I wondered, thanking them for the seed of thought. I considered time to be a shrewd criminal, even an enemy that gives, then steals precious moments, holy moments and situations, that rips apart lovers, especially babies and toddlers from those who adore them. Which justifies such felonies with an occasional healing.
A gift you say o brother and sister of old? a gift? Out of respect I shall tiptoe behind your eyes to catch a glimpse of your gift.
Time is an element of nature, brother says. It is all a gift from the busy spider-weaving webs to clusters of blubells that ring silent songs while swinging from their long green stems and sipping life from large luscious leaves.
Nature, every ounce of it, every dark and light, moving, breathing, flying, fighting, loving, majestic, humble ounce of it so entertains us, so consumes us that the other kingdom hides as hard to find, hard
to believe, hard to live in,
natureless gorgeous kingdom,
What kind of explorer would forsake home for this unknown? Are we aspiring immortals brave or are we lunatics? Ha-ha! We could also ask ourselves if nature's death is worth conquering.
Journeys offer what parlors and cozy beds never can.
Thank You for the shimmering, amorphous gift of Time, and all that it carries in its zillion pockets, but thank You more for an explorer's heart and the sparsely populated, lumnious, peaceful kingdom of God. How the Orkneys and my Shapinsay try to show me eternity with its long light days, spacious, barely populated, peaceful, watery ends of the old earth. Yes, I could live here forever.