August 10: Full-of-Wonder, Rio Olympics, Gold Medal

I didn't know, I never have known, what spirit it is that descends into my lungs and flaps near my heart like an eagle rising.  I named it full-of-wonder, highest good, voices.  I shut my eyes and saw a tree stump hurled by wind, an enormous tree stump sailing sideways across my vision, with a wide circular brim of roots and soil like a tossed top hat.

I think that Dillard is talking about grace here.  That feeling that descends upon a person unexpectedly, lifts the heart like an eagle rising, as she says.  She tries to label it, give it its proper name, but, like most human endeavors, she falls a little short.  So she resorts to metaphor and image.  A force strong enough to uproot a redwood, send it hurtling through space.

I know that I've written about grace many times before.  I think that I keep returning to the subject because grace is so illusive, as Dillard points out.  I've felt it in church at times, when people are lifting their candles on Christmas Eve.  I've felt it reading poetry, when the words flutter in my chest like sheets on a clothesline.  Going down the highway at sunrise or sunset.  Watching my daughter or son sleeping.  The world is full of grace.

Tonight, I'm going to sit down and watch the Rio Olympics.  On the docket tonight, swimming and gymnastics and beach volleyball.  Every two years, I spend over two weeks watching sports.  It's the only time in my life that any athletic event interests me.  Sure, the physical and mental competition is inspiring.  Seeing athletes push themselves to accomplish seemingly impossible acts of strength, speed, and stamina.  But I watch for another reason.

Once or twice a night, a person stands on top of the podium to receive a gold medal.  As the flag rises, and the country's national anthem starts playing, something happens.  I see it in the eyes of the athlete being honored.  The gaze becomes distant, maybe a little teary.  The chest inflates a little.  For a few moments, everything seems to stand still.

I can sort of imagine what's happening.  Years and years of practice and sacrifice.  Time away from family and friends.  Maybe missed birthdays and anniversaries.  Skipped high school proms and graduations.  And hours and hours on the track, in the pool, on a bicycle, whatever.  It all comes down to these few seconds.  And the moment, I think, is full of a kind of grace and thankfulness.

I will never win an Olympic gold medal, take first place in the Boston Marathon, or throw a touchdown in the Super Bowl.

But Saint Marty recognizes an eagle rising, highest good, full-of-wonder moment.

November 5: Hockey Game, Christmas Decorating, New Cartoon

Last night, I attended a hockey game.  For those of you who know me personally, I will give you a few moments to restart you hearts.  You see, I am not a regular attendee of sporting events.  In fact, the last time I went to an organized sporting event was last year right around this time of year.  Another hockey game.

I didn't go to witness the game, although I don't mind a little brutality on ice.  I went because my daughter's school chorus was singing the national anthem (ditto for last year).  So, really, the exciting part for me was done in the first three minutes of the night.  The rest of the time, I ate nachos and cheese and made disparaging comments in my wife's ear about the quality of people in the seats adjacent to ours.  Overall, it was a great time.  I'm not sure who won, because we left after the second period.  The game was tied when we exited the arena.

I promised my daughter that tomorrow we would put our Christmas decorations up on our front porch.  She's been waiting for this moment all year.  You see, every year, my wife or I choose a theme for the decorations on the front porch.  In the past, the themes have ranged from White Christmas to Blue Christmas to Santa's Candyland.  Last year was my turn.  I bought a leg lamp and pink bunny costume, borrowed a BB gun, and put up a display based on (you guessed it) A Christmas Story.  This year, my daughter got to choose the theme for the first time.  Her choice was An Ice Creamy Christmas.

We have ice cream decorations galore.  I will be constructing a tree-topper made out of ice cream cones and styrofoam this afternoon.  It should be pretty cute. And my daughter is totally geeked about the whole thing.  That's the most exciting thing about the whole process.

I have a new cartoon for my disciples.  The inspiration for it is pretty obvious.

Saint Marty is getting in the holiday spirit.

Confessions of Saint Marty