On the Banks of Nettle Creek: Everyday Sacraments

The usual definition of sacrament is "a religious ceremony that is regarded as an outward and visible sign of an inward and invisible grace". That's really a good definition for the sacraments of the church which we love - the sacrament of baptism or holy communion, both so full of meaning and grace. But it is one of my favorite authors, Ken Gire, in his book Seeing What Is Sacred who opened my eyes to a broader definition of sacrament. "Sacraments are ordinary things through which something extraordinary is offered." He points out that God uses ordinary things like a bush (burning) and stone tablets (written on by His finger), a piece of bread, a glass of wine as channels for His voice, "something from heaven offered to us through earthly hands." Something that lets us know we are looked after and loved.

I've found that to be an immensely helpful definition. It has opened my eyes to look for the daily sacraments God sends me, the ordinary, earthly things that come to me from His heavenly hand as silent witnesses of His love and care. The sunrise or sunset that takes my breath away. The incredible detail and beauty in a dragonfly's wing or abdomen. The warmth of the sun, the sparkle of the stars, the endlessly fascinating phases of the moon. The laughter and smiles of those I love. If we go through our days with eyes open to those sacraments from Him, we will find them and He takes endless delight in surprising us with unexpected things.

Today I was gifted a sacrament in a shell. About 4 this afternoon Kenji came in the house and said, "Phoenix found a turtle!" I asked, "What kind?" Of course Kenji (whose experience of turtles is quite limited) had no idea so we went out together and he showed me this:

A beautiful little box turtle! I've lived here on the farm twenty years and seen lots of snapping turtles, painted turtles and soft-shelled turtles but never a box turtle. That's not to say I doubted their presence but there's so much out there that one simply never sees. And that's why it's such a sacrament to have the privilege of seeing one.

Of course I had to pick it up and bring it in the house. I was sorely tempted to make a "pet" of it but I knew that it's best chances of survival and happiness are in the wild so after enjoying it for half an hour, I took it back to the spot we'd found it and put it on exactly the same spot, facing the same direction. I do believe it might live under the barn because it was just in front of what looked like a path dug under the barn siding. I am so thankful for the creativity of our Father and that He chose to share His joy in it with me today.

Box turtles got their name because they close up completely like a box when they are afraid, rather than just pulling into their shell. When this fellow was closed up, all we could see outside were two teeny toenails. The front flap of his underside opens and closes like the hatch on a boat.