The fireweed flower loves the hurting and dying places. It helps to heal the ground…
During Advent, I want to remember that the frozen soil never forgets Spring.
I want to never forget the light within, and the reality of Jesus in all life, and live into Heaven here and now, as it is, and in so doing to anticipate and feel the truth of Jesus’ words, that it is already here, and that it is coming.
And here and now, I think it looks and feels a lot like bomb craters and industrial clear-cuts ablaze with Fireweed’s purples and reds and greens. And Korean elders singing, holding hands and standing in the way of cement trucks trying to lay foundations for a new naval base on top of their home, Gangjeong Village (Jeju Island, South Korea). And standing in the streets of every major city in the US, demanding a better and more just society in which Black Lives Matter. And learning traditional ways and affirming elders on Rosebud Reservation, South Dakota, while crying for the earth and future generations and swearing to do everything in one’s power to stand up to the Keystone Oil snake trying to illegally run through native lands against the people’s wills.
And it looks a whole lot like eating and singing and telling stories together. Face to face.