From our parish bulletin:
It has been well said that no man ever sank under the burden of the day. It is when tomorrow’s burden is added to the burden of today that the weight is more than a man can bear. Never load yourselves so, my friends. If you find yourselves so loaded, at least remember this: it is your own doing, not God’s. He begs you to leave the future to Him and mind the present.
–George MacDonald (1824-1905)
The garden is so appealing at this time of year. It’s satisfying to clean things up and trim bushes. I bought some chrysanthemums and snapdragons so I’ll be ready when the zinnias fade…but until then, I don’t know what to do with them. Maybe I was too hasty.
I spent quite a 
while in the hot sun on Friday and Saturday, enjoying the pungent smell of the santolina that I was shearing down to stubs. It reminds me of the sagebrush of the desert or the bushes that grow at the beach. I met this mantis there. After I studied him and followed him for a while I had to get back to work, and I couldn’t notice if he went into the lavender or the rosemary, both of which had more hiding places remaining. I wonder which herby scent he likes best?
I cleaned up the bed where the Mexican Evening Primrose grows, hoping that it will look like this again next spring. It’s a great plant for dry California summers, only needing water a couple of times all summer long.
My friends and relations have been so good to me lately. I recently told you about Garden 
Doll who was a gift from my goddaughter. Last month another good friend went to South Carolina and brought me back an Appalachian story-telling doll, who is Little Red Riding Hood, the grandmother and the wolf all in one doll, if you just turn it upside down or switch the bonnet around. I can’t wait to show her/them to the little grandchildren.
My Dear Pennsylvania Cousin and I had been talking about Rumer Godden’s books, when she discovered this copy of The Mousewife on her shelf, and promptly mailed it to me. I read the story last night and — what a blessing! I may never have read that one otherwise, because the blurb I saw about the story made me think ill of the mousewife. Instead, I found her to be nothing less than a kindred spirit and an inspiring example.
Dolls and books, friends and flowers — sounds pretty typical for me, maybe. But no, each encounter has been a unique an
d new treat. I guess I couldn’t tell you about all of the things I’m thankful for recently, or I’d be writing all day to do them justice. And I like to take some time to browse the good things in other blogs, too.
Which reminds me: I’m pretty sure there are people reading my blog who never comment, and maybe some of you have your own blogs that I don’t know about? If so, please tell me sometime! And to everyone: May your week be full of pleasant encounters with unique gifts.
But God forbid that I should glory, save in the cross of our Lord Jesus Christ… -Galatians 6:14
Thy Cross is for all men a well of blessings and a cause of thanksgiving. Thereby for them that believe in thee, weakness is turned into strength, shame into glory, and death into life.
-St. Leo the Pope (d. 461)
Feast of the Exaltation of the Cross — September 14
I feel too tired to write a blog post today, but I couldn’t let this feast go by without mention. It isn’t always possible for me to get to Vespers or Vigil on Saturday evenings, but last night I did. I love the hymns that we sing at the feast of the cross. In the Orthodox Church, when we sing something like:
“Before Thy Cross we bow down O Master, and Thy holy Resurrection we glorify,” we actually prostrate ourselves on the floor for each of three refrains. (Many hymns have this triplet aspect to them, as a reminder of the Holy Trinity.)
If you are struggling with a bad attitude, it’s amazing how effective this kind of behavior can be in setting you on a better track, and helping you to pray. This morning at Divine Liturgy we had more of the same majestic hymns, and “O God, save Thy people, and bless Thine inheritance… preserve Thy habitation!”
The Church is the habitation of Christ. His presence fills His temple, and today our new chandeliers were set to swinging for the joy of Him being among us.
In our church bulletin we have for this week a pertinent quote from Fr. Basil Zebrun of Fort Worth, Texas:
“…when we are told in today’s Gospel, ‘Turn away from yourself, take up your Cross, Follow Me (Mark 8:34) — we are not called to something dark and frightening; we are told by God: ‘Open yourself to love! Do not remain a prisoner of your own self-centeredness.’ Do not be, in the words of St. Theophan the Recluse, ‘like a shaving of wood which is rolled around its own emptiness.’ Open yourself up! Look — there is so much to love, there are so many to love! There is such an infinity of ways in which love can be experienced, and fulfilled and accomplished.
“Open yourself and love (others) — because this is the way of the Cross! Not the way which the two criminals trod together with Christ to be punished for their crimes; but the wonderful way in which giving oneself unreservedly, turning away from self, existing only for the other, loving with all one’s being so that one exists only for the sake of the other — this is the Cross and the glory of the Cross.”
I have described myself as “giddy” when I am euphoric or joyful, but the sense of the word in the following poem is more along the lines of dizzy or flighty. The poet muses about his giddy state of mind and how he needs God to save him from it.
We Orthodox are often exhorted concerning this problem of the mind’s whirlwind, and the way to calm it, as in this post: Be Still and Know That I Am God, in which we read: “This constellation of desires and feelings is a constant swirl within the mind. Since it consists of desires and feelings, it is extremely ineffective in guarding against outside desires and feelings. We are deeply vulnerable.”
The human condition has not changed much since George Herbert wrote the poem in the 1600’s. Herbert (1593-1633) was a Welsh-born English poet, orator and Anglican priest. Another more famous poet and priest, John Donne, became Hebert’s godfather when his own father died.
What has changed more is the English language, and besides the word giddy I found in this poem one that had been completely unknown to me: snudge. Merriam-Webster speculates that it is an alteration of snug, and basically means to snuggle or nestle.
But there may be more subtle and unpleasant connotations, having to do with antisocial attitudes or behavior. Crooked Talk: Five Hundred Years of the Language of Crime quotes a 1676 use of the word related to robbery: “[He] gives it to his snudge, who snudges away with it to his [fence] who buyes it.” By the time Robert Nares included it in his Glossary in 1822 he said it meant “a miser, curmudgeon, a sneaking fellow.”
Obviously I am attracted to this word snudge, describing something I am prone to doing, which might be perfectly wholesome — or not. I won’t try to determine which, because that effort sounds like too much temptation for my giddy mind.
Oh, what a thing is man! how far from power,
From settled peace and rest!
He is some twenty sev’ral men at least
Each sev’ral hour.
One while he counts of heav’n, as of his treasure:
But then a thought creeps in,
And calls him coward, who for fear of sin
Will lose a pleasure.
Now he will fight it out, and to the wars;
Now eat his bread in peace,
And snudge in quiet: now he scorns increase;
Now all day spares.
He builds a house, which quickly down must go,
As if a whirlwind blew
And crusht the building; and it’s partly true,
His mind is so.
O what a sight were Man, if his attires
Did alter with his mind;
And like a Dolphin’s skin, his clothes combin’d
With his desires!
Surely if each one saw another’s heart,
There would be no commerce,
No sale or bargain pass: all would disperse,
And live apart.
Lord, mend or rather make us: one creation
Will not suffice our turn:
Except thou make us daily, we shall spurn
Our own Salvation.
-George Herbert
Gladsome Lights 