Thoughts from the Garden – April 2015
The cock crows and I am reminded of the presence of God. This is something that started a few months ago when I was longing to be more mindful of the nearness of God in my everyday life. For some reason, the crow of the rooster began to serve as a reminder to this profound truth. His cock-a-doodle-doo woke me up and re-centered me. Reading about Peter’s denial of Jesus and the corresponding crow of the cock touched me in a different way this year. Our rooster calls out at seemingly random intervals all day long. I don’t know that I could predict his call, but I do know that between his songs, I forget and deny my God - at least three times. Thank goodness, the cock keeps crowing, and I keep returning to myself and my God and try again.
Our rooster is a handsome little fellow. He’s bright white, proud and sturdy, and he struts his stuff with agility and finesse - his long red wattle waggling below his beak. He’s also quite protective of his hens. He warns them with a low vocalization when a hawk flies overhead, and he takes on predators with a jump and a peck (even when those “predators” are simply my legs walking by to bring fresh food or water). When he crows, his whole body gets involved, and on his last, slightly flat note, he seems to deflate just a little, his body tilted forward and his head drooped down. I can’t help but chuckle at his cartoonish exertion. God reminds me that God is here in such a light-hearted and humorous manner.
My denial of Christ, however, is no laughing matter. I refuse to recognize Christ in those with whom I share life; I ignore interconnection to avoid inconvenience; I place my worth in doing rather than being; I cling to control and cater to ego. I have the hardest time remembering to keep myself open to the movement of God in my life, or remembering, even, that God is here at all. And then the cock crows, and I am humbled. I’ve forgotten yet again, and I’ve been reminded one more time, over and over. I am humbled and I am grateful. For with every crow, I am invited to remember and repent – to turn my life around and orient myself in God who is always present. I even get to chuckle a bit at my own cartoonish exertions and ultimate deflation. That’s what I seek, I think, the deflation of self and the overflowing of God through my life.
I wonder about those who opened their lives up to God. I wonder if Moses continued to see God in every kind of bush – burning or not. I wonder if Elijah continued to feel God in every gentle breeze.
I also wonder if Peter continued to hear God in the cock’s crow. I do. Each day, several times, I find myself doodle-dooed into the presence of God where I am flawed and graced, loved and embraced.