cincinnati is covered in this glorious and dangerous stuff called ice, and it delights me every time i slip off the porch and struggle down the stairs...yes, that is a Christmas tree laying as though it has recently been assassinated on our front porch...it was a cedar tree and i couldn't bring myself to get rid of it, until recently when i decided i my candle/scent obsession wasn't going to fair well in combination with cats and a very crisp dead tree.
as i've been taking in this city covered in ice, some things have occurred to me. i remember hearing several years back that cincinnati would, in a latter time, be a "pocket of mercy". this storm has sincerely re-emphasized that point to me. south of the river was hit something awful, and north near dayton saw a mess of Biblical proportions. every time i looked at a radar graphic, there would be a coloured strip that bent and maneuvered about the limits of cincinnati. curving just so slightly here or there...but what's more interesting to me is the manner in which we responded. sheer panic. the streets were treated as often as possible, and yet somehow we immediately complain about the city, and their ability to perform in circumstances, and it suddenly becomes their fault that we were inconvenienced. i find a fantastic analogy here to the Church...we tend to put our expectations on someone else to prepare us and clean us and feed us. when the burden of those doing so is so great that they are unable to keep up, we instantly hold them at fault. (well it certainly couldn't be our own for not sowing! ha!)...and here we are in an absolute panic, buying up tuna, when in all reality we are in an area that somehow was spared what could have been truly devastating. the east was obliterated and the storm from the west ruined all sorts of crops. and we're never happy it seems...like the Israelites, we perpetually torment those trying to lead and guide. when we have always been provided with a promise and safety. i feel a conviction on my heart about having behaved this way in many circumstances. stressed relationships with peers included, as you wait expecting them to tend the wound they inflicted-how absurd! and then complaining that they refuse to do so, growing our own rips and tears...we are equally responsible.
but the lovely part is this...all of these trees are bending under the weight of their atmospheric burden. they are simply covered in ice, frozen and broken. much like us. our senses are dulled, and with our heaviness we begin to lean. we have been seemingly overtaken and our exterior can no longer hide our weaknesses. but as we lean, we are gleaming. as we lean on Jesus, admitting our frailty, he breaks off the dead branches in us, and he preserves the living in what seems like tragedy. He reveals the intentions of our hearts and the depth of our roots. He shows us where we were strong and beautiful, when we felt dulled and distant. it is actually the process of GLEANING! and if you can imagine, for just a moment what it must be like, to shine the sun down upon a world covered in ice...this is what He sees-a sparkeling, radiant, honest people, who can be humbled and honored in their leaning. a little pocket of mercy in a dead world-cincinnati. we stretch with broken limbs toward Him, and lean our heads upon His chest. and those parts closest to Him pursuing in passion, shine from the light of the Son. His Bride and His Beloved, cincinnati.
Reveal our roots oh God. Reveal our frailty, reveal our shining, lest we become dulled to your zealous love and pursuit of us. We want to honor you, in humility.
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