Wednesday, 23 January 2013

A Maggie Muggins Sized Box

Maggie's box - wanna play?
A box arrived of Easter bulletin covers, letterhead, and church envelopes. A Maggie Muggins sized box! Her immediate reaction, of course, was to climb right in. Curiosity. A sense of fun and playfulness. Seize the moment! This is for ME! It's MINE! Oh yes, life is good! 

I remember Bishop Jim MacLean preaching at Diocesan College many years ago about Zaccheus, who, apparently short, climbed a sycamore tree to see Jesus as he passed by. Jesus looked up and saw Zaccheus, and invited him to join him for tea and crumpets with strawberry jam and Devon cream, or whatever. Jim MacLean told us, "Zaccheus was curious. Never stop being curious." We were taught not to ask too many questions - and of course, there is information we neither need nor should have. But to be curious about life - ahhh - now that's the way to live. Daffodils - how many shades of yellow? How do crickets chirp? What do the shapes of clouds tell us? How do we learn? What is it (within or without?) that calls us to grow? Who is God? How many names are there for God? How do people of other faiths explain the unexplainable? How do children think? How can we be of any significance in a vast universe of stars and galaxies, black holes and infinity? What does it mean to love? To be loved?

Well... I'm going to play with Maggie. I hear a stir - something soft dragging across the floor - and I look up and Maggie has brought me her toy - the mouse-like critter on the end of a strip of leather - perfect for dancing and leaping and having fun. Let's keep on playing, y'all! And keep on being curious. The best thing about being curious (and therefore alive) is that we can be curious together - ask questions - explore - live in the mystery of no easy answers. I was reminded today that faith isn't the same as certainty. There is no certainty. The journey,  however, is ... well - filled with joy, sorrow, questions, friends, mysterious cats, tarantulas (unfortunately), Haiti,  music, memories, .... What do you think?

Even Annie, at 11, is reclaiming her playful spirit since Zeke's death and the subsequent arrival of that pesky, super-energetic, kitten. Hardly a fffttt or a grrrrr or a rrrooowwrr to be heard these days. Annie hears sounds of play and comes to investigate. Curious! :-) And then in her limited, and slightly arthritic way, she joins the fun. I dropped the laser pointer and broke it, though - and that's their favourite!  :-(

Sooo ... find a box to play in! Or remember creating forts with blankets and cushions and the dining  room table? I just may try that. Wonder what the cats will think?

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