Do you know a chorus or hymn to those words in my title?
This is the day that the Lord has made;
We will rejoice and be glad in it.
We used to sing it in the Bible churches that my family attended back in the day, and now I sing it in the Orthodox Church, in a different setting. Many times recently I’ve had cause to meditate about the significance of both the fact and the exhortation in those lines from the Psalter. Often I wonder, as does G.K. Chesterton,
Here ends another day,
during which I have had eyes, ears, hands
and the great world around me.
Tomorrow begins another day.
Why am I allowed two?
I could not possibly list all the things I am thankful for every day. But I can occasionally write a blog post about a few of them, which I am doing this afternoon…
It’s Sunday, so fresh on my heart is the most extravagant and Life-giving thing: that I was a recipient of the Holy Mysteries of the Eucharist, the very Body and Blood of Christ. I was not kept at home by illness, nor was my attention distracted from the service by pain — right there are two of those Things That Didn’t Happen that are always infinite in number for any of us. If we are feeling grumpy, thinking on those non-events, the ones we wouldn’t have desired, can help move the mind in a positive direction to things that actually exist.
If my garden is full of unsightly areas, and posing problems for me to solve, I can go for hours or days without worrying about them, because I am so thankful to have a garden of any sort. I feel like saying to God, “I have a gorgeous fig tree! How can it be possible that I also have a lemon tree, a begonia, and a fountain??”
Time Management is a term I do not like. Long ago, I used to think a lot about my days in terms of T.M., and it wasn’t happy thinking. It was Happier thinking when I was sitting on the couch with several children around me, reading A Child’s Garden of Verses, or Winnie the Pooh, or The Jungle Book.
Another Happy kind of thinking is when I walk around the garden considering all the 
wildlife out there. Currently we have caterpillars feasting on the plants, including two Anise Swallowtails in the parsley patch. On the milkweed, Monarch Caterpillar #2 has entered the pupa stage, and Caterpillar #3 is still munching. This is a pollinator gardener’s joy ❤ and I hope that there are dozens more caterpillars that I haven’t noticed, that are reaping the bounty and thanking God with me. …even if they are Cabbage Whites, which like to eat everything — though I haven’t seen many of those around this year.
The problem that Time Management poses is, “How can I get everything done?” But I now know that I can’t. Whenever I’m doing one thing, like typing here, and/or exulting in the caterpillars and flowers, I’m not doing dozens of other things, which threaten to Never Get Done.
There is some kind of Russian proverb that I remember roughly as, “If I don’t die today, I can do Those Things later. If I do die today, it won’t matter that I didn’t do them.”
Even King David could not do everything he wanted. He wanted to build a temple, and God even told him that was a Good Idea, but that it wasn’t for him. It seems like the vast majority of Good Ideas I’ve had throughout my life have not or will not come to fruition, so they will remain in the Theoretical category. I want to focus on the Real things that I am participating in right now.
It probably wouldn’t have mattered, if I hadn’t got a delivery of firewood this month. I feel a little silly about it, because I still have wood left from the last two late-summer deliveries. I will definitely be prepared, if the power fails. After Bea and I stacked it, at one end of the rows that were left over, it seems that I must have well over a cord, and maybe I won’t have to buy wood next year. The newer, golden logs are on the left, and the oldest, grayest ones on the right. It looks like rolling hills of cordwood; that wasn’t planned.
Last week I drove my friend Mrs. C to the coast, where we ate clam chowder overlooking the mouth of the Russian River, in the town of Jenner-by-the-Sea. I had been mentally dragging my feet about spending the time, but once I got out the door the day unfolded perfectly. It was the Day That the LORD had made, after all. If I had stayed home, I may have cleaned the bathroom (probably not), but I would not have been able to watch a hundred pelicans swirling, swooping, and doing belly flops on the river. Even the fog was not unpleasant; I had forgotten that it would not be a cold fog out there. Inland it had been quite rainy, but by the river we were able to sit outside, where blackbirds joined us at our table and welcomed any crumbs we offered.
The recent rain was a very welcome change from the chill winds we’d been having, that made me fear for an early departure of summer. Once the clouds moved in, the temperatures rose. I will be able to relax again, and hope for more figs ripening.
Several butternut squashes are ripening on the plants that have spread into the driveway. This one peeking out (above) is one of the largest. The rudbeckia at that corner of the driveway has been blooming for months and months and I have been amazed at it all summer. But it is winding down…
Just before the rain, I had bought a flat full of plants for that challenging area by my front door. These are all species that can thrive in Part Shade. I will hope to plant them this week or next; ajuga, violas, cranesbill, dwarf plumbago, and more.
My leafy green seeds have sprouted, indoors and out. I harvested a pile of that basil that had been calling to me, and made pesto. There’s been a lot of Happy Thinking-Thanking through the days in Gretchen’s Garden. It helps that more than any other month, I love September.
calls the divine energies and which makes the world called to and capable of transfiguration into a ‘new heaven and a new earth,’ and the ruler of creation, man, called to and capable of theosis, ‘partaking of the divine nature.’”
That made me think, maybe the line I didn’t get refers to the fact the narrator has come to realize, that “he” was not going to be around indefinitely, and that the loss of him would be incredibly painful. It’s the sort of intelligence that sinks deep into the soul, where the struggle to comprehend it continues indefinitely. Now, if she could go back, she would not be the same person, and the kind of knowledge she would take back to the past would be truly too much to bear in that “present.” It isn’t given to us humans to skip back and forth through time, which is a good thing, because just reading this poem demands more of my mind than is comfortable. Most of us can barely attend to the present, and excessive theorizing can be a sad waste of our hours.
Gladsome Lights 