Some days it seems the cat's got my tongue. More accurately it seems that this blog has birthed many beautiful private conversations which I have come to treasure. There is the occasional 'less than pretty' volley hurtled this way, including some recent words about frilly pictures serving no purpose and words – those of theological debate in particular – being "all that matter." I admit I chewed over that one. Those words stung not because I felt they were true but because they ran completely counter to what I believe about art and life and truth and how those things are so intricately connected.
Image and silence move me in a way that clever words never can, filling me to overflowing with gratitude for the embarrassment of riches we are swimming in, even in the worst of times. The sun still rises one pink ribbon at a time, still curtsies out in flames. The forest is a riot of color and texture at this moment. And my baby's blue eyes are arresting. Everywhere I turn there is beauty, which is of course but a mirror of the One who created it all and presents this abundance to us daily. It makes me want to know Him more.
Elisabeth Leseur shared a similar sentiment:
"The disinterested search for beauty, the passionate concern for justice, the love of truth are so many routes that lead to God. Sometimes one makes many detours; one even gets lost a little. And yet one always reaches the goal towards which one marches without even knowing it."
For some of us, the love of justice leads to the Supreme Judge. The philosopher often finds himself standing before the All Wise and All Knowing. And , for some, beauty points to the hands of the Creator who dreamt this all up in the first place. All those paths are valid and none to be shunned. He is indeed the Hound of Heaven and seeks each of us out by different means.
Elisabeth also counsels us:
"To carefully avoid all discussion on religious subjects. Prayer, example, words and deeds filled with charity and intelligence – these are the elements of fruitful controversy. The combat of intellects will never open the way to God, but a ray of charity sometimes illumines the path from which some poor destressed heart is wandering and leads it to its destination."
It breaks my heart into bits, I tell you. But there are times when it is best to walk away rather than sacrificing charity to prove a point. The way to God is not won by a battle of words and silence is often the most charitable gift we can give. Debate is not my mojo and leaves me exhausted and hurting rather than invigorated. I avoid it like the plague. Instead I offer what little bit of beauty I can share. I offer my sincere prayers and gratitude for same. I also offer my humble apologies when my words fail, which is not infrequently, darn it.
Beauty and the very judicious use of words are my two trusted allies these days.
