So the other night some of us in the Shirey family were talking about the various imperfections of our bodies.
It was a fun/funny conversation.
In the midst of it, we talked a bit about trees, and how imperfect almost every tree is, and yet how we pay such little attention to their imperfections; we barely even notice them.
It reminded me of Thomas Merton's statment that has stuck with me for years:
"A tree brings glory to God by being a tree."
I doubt if a tree spends very much time, if any, trying to "fix" their imperfections.
They just are ... and even in their imperfection, they bring glory to God.
Listen to Mary Oliver's poem, "When I am Among the Trees:"
When I am among the trees,
especially the willows and the honey locust,
equally the beech, the oaks and the pines,
they give off such hints of gladness.
I would almost say they save me, and daily.
I am so distant from the hope of myself,
in which I have goodness,
and never hurry through the world
but walk slowly, and bow often.
Around me the trees stir in their leaves
and call out, "Stay awhile."
The light flows from their branches.
And they call again, "It's simple," they say,
"and you too have come
into the world to do this,
to go easy,
to be filled with light,
and to shine."
Go easy, my imperfect, but glorious friends ... be filled with God's light and just shine!