Mel Untethered: God's "Bright Wing"

We need more beauty.

I saw a meme the other day that said,

“Your nervous system will always choose familiar chaos over unfamiliar peace until you learn to heal and choose differently.” -Lauren Zoeller

Thriving in chaos does not make for healthy daily living. Now that my mind is healthier my body needs to catch up—poor old girl; she’s kept the score for too long and needs to retire from that job. “You need more beauty, Mel,” My therapist said the other day. Indeed, I do. If I were a gambling woman (mostly, I’m not until the National Lotto reaches 1 billion, and then I go in), I would wager that you need more beauty in this political and cultural climate, too.

The thing is, I do see beauty around me all the time. I take walks when I pray, and it brings my soul so much peace to walk and talk with the Lord in the middle of His beautiful creation. I appreciate beauty, but my body defaults to chaos. I’m trying to fit beauty into my life—to shove it in my mouth like I do those delicious mini-powered donuts Little Debbie makes. But I can’t rush beauty; it’s meant to be delighted in, savored, and breathed.

My body is not cooperating; it’s remembering what it went through last year. My upward spiral to freedom was a hard-won battle of the mind, and my body is not allowing me to forget it. I’m trying, and dear friends, some of you have told me about what you’ve gone through—I want you to try, too.

I was recently introduced to the poem God’s Grandeur by Gerard Manely Hopkins.¹ I was shooketh. That poem, oh man, wow, it was as if God reached His holy hand into my heart and shook all the tight places loose. When I listen to the poem, I can visualize it and imagine God in all his grandeur over the world. His greatness and beauty are beyond compare. The last line goes,

“Because the Holy Ghost over the bent

    World broods with warm breast and with ah! bright wings.”

The description of God’s beauty is thrilling and woven with His greatness, making Him uncontainable. God heaves himself on us, and at first, we think He means to frighten us, but in a flash, we realize—He is depth, warmth, and brightness.

It reminds me of when God reveals himself to Elijah in 1 Kings 19:11-13,

“And as Elijah stood there, the Lord passed by, and a mighty windstorm hit the mountain. It was such a terrible blast that the rocks were torn loose, but the Lord was not in the wind. After the wind there was an earthquake, but the Lord was not in the earthquake.  And after the earthquake there was a fire, but the Lord was not in the fire. And after the fire there was the sound of a gentle whisper (New Living Translation).”

God is great and mighty, soft and beautiful—shining like a bird's feathery white wing when it takes flight. This is the kind of beauty I want consistently in my life. I may not live in the most beautiful place in the world, but beauty is around me, and I am choosing to notice it.

Beauty is in the babbling creek on my walk through downtown. It’s in my friend making dinner for us all each Monday night and praying together after we eat it—sometimes through tears, other times, laughter. It's in my daughter's bright eyes and my son’s glorious smile. It’s the warmth of my husband’s hand. Beauty is the song my friend sent me about dancing. It's when my therapist says, “You’re going to make it, Mel.” Beauty is hearing my dearest friend's voice over the phone and feeling my other dear friend’s hug when we are both tired and needing comfort. It’s in this picture on my wall that I stare at every day.

I’m retraining my body to consistently reflect His beauty—and next fall, I hope it will be a little easier because the score my body keeps will be that of His Beauty growing in my soul.

Extra Sauce

• Next week, we will all go on a trip to Waynetown, IN, together.

• I have to say, I am looking forward to this book release. I think I’ll buy five copies to get the T-shirt. If I do, I’ll give one copy away here.

What does a medieval abbess have in common with Dorothy Patterson?

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