Magnifying Life
/Sometimes to comprehend the magnitude of life a person needs a magnifying glass. The more I read about spiritual practices and the art of writing, the more I’m pointed toward the specific. The purpose is not to reduce life to the simplistic, but to see in life's simplicity its enormous complexity.
With a magnifying glass, you can see all of creation reflected in a drop of dew resting on a blade of grass. With a magnifying glass, a car ride conversation can become a eucharistic feast, a handwritten note, a sermon, a vote, a courageous statement of faith. With a magnifying glass, a baby’s fingernail can reveal a parent’s true legacy.
No wonder Thoreau went into the woods, where he could confront life not on a distant horizon but in a corner of a cabin in the woods. No wonder Melville went looking for a whale, Williams a red wheelbarrow, the Beatles a day in the life.
Seeing life through a magnifying glass is nothing new. It’s why monks make bread, composers write melodies, poets compose poems, and artists cover canvasses. Whether with words or actions, in our jobs, faith, or relationships, all of life begs us to consider the lilies of the field, not because the rest of life is insignificant, but because it is more significant than we can comprehend.