3/15

A few days ago, the boys and I went down to the creek. How things have changed! A few weeks ago, things were covered in ice and a squirrel was frozen solid. Now, water bugs are all over the creek—they were the first sign of spring. We caught a salamander for a few seconds. Crawfish are out. We caught a toad juts coming out of his hole—he was so just waking up, so lethargic that he really couldn’t even get away from us. It’s a tough world.

Back in high school, my favorite class was Marine Biology. Biloxi High School was 1 block from the beach. A few times a week we would gather our buckets and seine nets and head down to the beach. We’d pair up and drag the seine nets to shore. Sting rays, flounder, shrimp, calamari, anchovies, squids, starfish—all kinds of stuff would be in there. Ever since then I have said that if the world comes to an end, I’ll be on the Gulf Coast because you won’t starve.

I suppose we could make a decent meal from the creek.

Walter Anderson was a great artist on the Gulf Coast. He said something that has stuck with me for years: “The first poetry is written by farmers and sailors, men with the wind in their teeth. The second poetry is written by scholars and students who know a good thing. The third poetry is written, if it is written, by those who make of man and nature one thing.” I like the first poetry and am not sure there has ever been the third.

There’s so much upheaval and turmoil in the boys’ life when Melissa is in the hospital. Somehow, this time, we really pulled together to work on smoothing that out. It was tough—it goes against your instincts, inclinations, and energy. It’s not that we tried to avoid, or hide anything. Rather, we just took time to keep things even and smooth. Finally, it was a spiritual question. It took all of Jesus I could handle to press on, to constantly make the decision to find space for love, not what’s “right” or “convenient” in the sense of getting things done. So lots of things did not get done on time or at all. Some sublime things came from it. In a strange way, Melissa was a powerful mother to them as she was away—there were times we probably needed to be with her, but we were also needed with the boys and she sent us to them. I still don’t have a lot of words about this, or any clear expression of it. All I know is that something intensely spiritual happened, so much of the stuff that me and the boys talk about in John 13 started happening. Will it continue now that much of the stress is off, or is back to the same old thing? I keep asking, Lord, don’t let me and my grown-up ways get in the way of the boys.

Who knows where it all leads? Some days are good, some bad. And it does something to you. My phone rang, I saw it was Melissa, and thought, “she’s calling to tell me something about what the docs say at the clinic.” Is that all we have to talk about? But no. She called to say, “Beware the Ides of March.” That was it. Typical. She always used to do things like that, but other things have so much occupied our attention and time. It’s good to have her back.

Big Doug’s house burned down. Doug is a pretty simple guy. The firemen brought out his shoes (he loves those boots), his wallet, and his Bible. All ok. He said, “Heaven and earth will pass away, but my words will not pass away.” How many of us can testify like that!?

p/g,

Aaron