imagination

Jenny is out of town for a couple of days. Usually she milks Fancy, our Jersey milk cow, and I milk the goats and do the other barn chores. Well, I guess Fancy didn’t like the feel of my hands, or my singing, or something. Either way it was clear she wasn’t happy about something. She kicked the snot out of me twice. Cows can pack a powerful wallop if they have a mind to. I kept at it though. It wouldn’t have paid to let her think that she could just kick her way out of being milked by me. I didn’t end up with much milk, but we got it done. I can’t wait for Jenny to get back.

We are living a life beyond our wildest imaginings. Actually, I used to dream about a life like this. Living on a farm, teaching part time and farming part time. Then I lost track of those dreams for about 20 years. In a haze of alcohol, false starts, and tangled dreams I struggled along until one day I woke up here. You can’t get here from where I was. In fact, you can’t even see here from where I was. But here I am. The only way I can make some sense of those years is to remember that everything that has happened up until now has led me to here. And for that I am grateful because here is a pretty wonderful place to be. I have been truly blessed.

Grace. Unmerited favor.

“We develop an imagination and with this imagination, we reach for God. We live out of the worldview that our imagination has created.” - Father Richard Fragomeni

Imagination is the soil in which my garden grows. The deep, rich humus that nurtures it. “Humus” is the root word from which the word “humility” is derived. Humility means, literally, “earthly”. To be humble is to be of this earth. And we are, indeed, of this earth. Connected. To each other, to God, to Christ, and to the earth that nourishes us. And this is what the Eucharist say to me. That when we come to the table with Christ, we are invited to embrace God. To embrace our connectedness to all with is earthly and all that is heavenly.

So here I am. Relaxing after my contest of wills with Fancy the milk cow. Nursing my wounds. Listening to Bob Dylan on the stereo and contemplating my relationship with God, and man, and this earth we live on. Feeling blessed and at peace. Even at peace with Fancy.