It’s just the mere sun’s or moon’s glare being reflected by the ripply water’s surface, shimmering into bright little diamonds for the eyes here in creation, but it always puts me in mind of the Lord Who formed everything and everyone just the way He wants them.
The sun being dappled about within maple leaves, and being waved about so loudly by a flag, too, all but whistles for my eyes’ holier attention and my mind’s brief, happy excursions into what could be.
Deeply Personal instances of the Lord’s presence do not shimmer (to my knowledge). If we need the shimmering, we’ll get it from the nature He gave the earth. If we need the love behind it all, we’ll get that as we know love so far: incredibly personally, tailored to our recognizableness, no matter how outrageously foreign we have imagined His someday presence. It will seem like mankind, only on holy steroids. He is indeed Other; there’s no arguing that. However, He is (in my experience) very much Same. There was and is a point to the Hypostatic Union! He entered our minimal temporal life, that we might enter into His eternal divine unlimitedness, if we accept His redemption.
I clearly identify with the Good Thief. At first, it was a matter of, “Oh yeah? Prove it!” Somewhere along dying’s way, Dysmas got eyes to see and ears to hear, and so did I. “Lord.. remember me, when you come into your kingdom?” This very day, I am remembered. Every day. So is everyone else. Yesterday, I caught myself praying mercy for a child’s murderer. Hell should have none of us, if the Lord wants us, and He does. This murderer makes me want to retch, he has acted such a mean pig, very similarly to warmongers and to all who plant mines instead of food. BUT.. there were Words from the Cross, and they were the final lesson from the Master: Mercy. He tried to say it before then, too, “I give you a new commandment..”
My surprise prayer only led in to the greater one for the little girl’s family, who of course have never been the same all these years. A family all but destroyed for this manimal who won’t ever admit to anything and thus, no body has ever been found. But I am not allowed to call him anything but what he is: One of us. That’s hard. But the Lord is the Lord, and He can transform anything and save anyone from hell’s clutches, and His desire is to not lose any of us.
Perhaps mankind’s ways are why only water and the steaming highway road shimmers, now — things we cannot capture nor touch. Maybe everything shimmered, once. Maybe it still does, beyond the Wood. We have a remnant reminder of it, at least, made of beauty and peace and benevolence. Another mercy of theophany, one that anyone ever on earth might have.