Where the Light Gets In

I sit here on our back deck marveling at the sunrise. Light creeps into the neighborhood like fingers finding their way through the maze of cars, bushes, mailboxes, trees and houses. Patches of light cover yards and streets like picnic blankets. Golden shafts blaze down and through shrubbery like kids playing tag or hide and seek. Only they would certainly be found by friends if they glowed as the morning sun does here in my back yard.

Already, our yard is showing the signs of high summer – the variety of spring greens have settled into their darker more homogenous hues. A few brown patches where summer heat is sapping the life, are beginning to show here and there.

Yet I am dazzled by this trio of bushes – two red tips and a butterly bush. Right down at the base of these bushes lies the most gorgeous colors. Golden fingers illumine a near-black green dancing beside the pink and burgundy of pine straw. Turquoise, sap green, yellow green is interrupted by these shafts of pure gold. I feel dizzy gazing at this gift of a moment, as if I’ve drunk too much wine. Yet my head and heart are clear as a bell. God is here, reaching out to me in this quiet space of morning light.

I am needing this desperately. Time to drink in the wine of God’s beauty and love for me. I feel that I’ve been living and making art for a long time somewhat disconnected from this quiet center where I can just be. I’ve been making, and stitching, and painting without getting still and quiet enough to connect to where it all comes from. No wonder I’ve been feeling stretched thin like the frantic making is a bit dry and perhaps singed around the edges, even if it all appears lovely to others. I’m weary of just cranking it out. I want this – shafts of light to burst in and through the shrubbery of my heart, igniting and illuminating all within.

Yes. This is what I need today and everyday. Rise, O Son, in the yard of my heart. Spread blankets of love for child-like play. Embolden the dry colors that have sat too long without Your golden fingers touching and illuminating. May I sit in stillness long in this summer yard where the Light gets in.

6 thoughts on “Where the Light Gets In

  1. Margaret Hart says:

    Jennifer, I reflect your own exquisite words right back to you. They are poetry finding a place in my heart and mind. Thank you.

    “Yes. This is what I need today and everyday. Rise, O Son, in the yard of my heart. Spread blankets of love for child-like play. Embolden the dry colors that have sat too long without Your golden fingers touching and illuminating. May I sit in stillness long in this summer yard where the Light gets in.”

    Thank you for your faithful mark making exercise all these days. They always looked like joy and praise and communing with The Artist.

    With Heart,
    Margaret

    • Jennifer Edwards says:

      Dear Margaret,
      I thank you for your response here. The 100 Day Project was indeed a joy and communing with The Artist and Maker of my heart. It was the “seed” from which my days unrolled. I am still drawing each morning, just not in the same mark-making manner. I find a need to draw without having/needing to post it everyday. That part is nice to take a break from. Just draw without any thought that others’ eyes will see. There is a freedom in that. I am grateful that my words are helpful to others and ring true for you as well. I am grateful for your ongoing companionship, albeit via the inter webs, as an artist and Sister in this world monastery we live in. With all my heat and gratitude…Jennifer

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