To the joy of watching anomalies: from the things i write on napkins as i travel series! Found this one today in travels:

I notice anomalies mostly. The tiny mocking bird, I saw today out the window, chasing the crow, taunting him all morning, but in jest, it seemed. Almost as if they were already friends. The piece of plastic red trash floating like that kid’s red balloon in the old parisien film i love. The fat raccoon walking up the middle of the street alone, but still with a sense of direction and purpose somehow.

The lady this week at the airport who was coming to get her lower teeth replaced, and showed me what was missing, but who also takes care of an elderly man, whom she takes to the park each day and applies lotion on his arms, so he can recall what he loves again.

The moment, in scriptures where Philip suddenly appears in another place, and affects the whole spiritual atmosphere. Angels and demons re-adjust, because he suddenly appeared and started teaching in and from something beyond himself.

These are my favorite moments, even in scriptures, as just after Jesus walks on water, the boat “suddenly appears” on the other side, and everyone is confused, but strangely hopeful—little tears and seemingly ironic tares in the fabric, or seams into the unseen around us daily, where love dwells. Those types of anomalies, i most often notice. And where Love and wonder most often kiss, at least for me. I read life through it’s anomalies.

I often get to know the whole identity of each day through it’s unexpected, surprising contrasts-ie, each hour’s anomalies. Love itself, must love anomaly. As a father loves it when a child does something entirely unexpected. And interruptions are where the sound occurs. Silence, is where the song resonates. And, we are little surprises, even to ourselves.

I hear God best daily in seams, ripples and in betweens. In things, which weren’t quiet expected. Sabbath is in that space of surprise for me. Where humor occurs, and that deep chuckle in a great Father’s throat. I didn’t expect that, His great laugh seems to imply; that is what makes me most happy. To hear Him listening to our best joke. To catch Him off guard, as if we could. We must all be anomalies, in that sense. And surprise Him with joy daily, as kids often tend to do, at our best. He seems to enjoy us enjoying ourselves, and, at least, trying to surprise him by being His anomalies.