I was reading Don’s post last night: “Calming the Storm” – Matthew 8:23-27. And found myself pondering Don’s conclusion: “The real question for us is this: Will we trust God with our lives or will we be battered about by the storms of life?” I found myself pondering by the still silent pool.
We talked of corks. My preference for being “a cork” floating here and there as the current of connection takes me. A preference I have found uncommon. That having a purpose, having a ministry, having a direction is how we and God should work together.
Yet I think my purpose is to be a cork. A cork that can go in any direction when the cork does not resist. For I find not resisting is walking in faith. I have found a cork can survive any “storm”. I find being a cork to be infused with something light, something …
“How much does love weigh?”
Sorry Lord … what has that to do with corks?
“How much does love weigh, Paul?”
Looking over this still silent pool is soothing. Like staring into a fire but without all the busyness. And we sat in silence, He and I. His question the wrapping paper. His gift within. Always the wrapping. Always the gift. Always within. He knows when the time is right.
“How much does anger weigh, Paul, compared to love? Are they both the same? Is one heavier than the other? Which would sink and which would float if dropped in water – if caught in a storm (perhaps)?”
Do you see how He does it? Offers a little glimpse. Builds curiosity. Invites seeing. Offers knowing. Embraces togetherness.
And I saw a cork. Bobbing lightly. Sitting without effort on the surface. And even when covered by a wave – immediately rising again. Effortless. Walking on water by design. No doubt possible. Just as the chair I sit on is (atomically speaking) “nothing” more than “something” – so too my cork: thousands of pockets of “nothing”. Much more nothing than something. Yet much more something than nothing.
And then I saw this cork atomically – a cork infused through with love. More love than anything else. A love that cannot sink. A love greater than death. A love supreme.
”Love weighs a lot less than anger. A lot less than hate. A lot less than living in darkness. A lot less than death. And tons less than fear!”
And I looked inwards and felt the weight of doubt, the dragging under of fear, the weighing down of anger, the pressure bearing down of fearing the dark. I looked at the scales and saw them bent and misshapen – groaning under the strain of living without light. And I saw the scales fractured with stress lines of living in fear.
And I looked outwards at the lightness of love. I looked at the scales bathed in light. I looked at the scales registering no weight at all. I saw those bathed in love. Light as a feather. Soaring fearless. Connecting as one.
“Take my yoke upon you and learn from me, for I am gentle and humble in heart, and you will find rest for your souls. For my yoke is easy and my burden is light. Which you will find in Matthew, chapter 11, verses 28-30, Paul. Doesn’t matter which version.”
“Pebble time, Paul.”