In Coral Gables, FL, where Janice and I lived on two different itinerations of our ministry in the United Methodist Church, the street signs are like “L” shaped cemetery monuments.  One side of the monument has the street name, and on the other side the avenue’s.  Interestingly, during the day these white-washed street markers make it easy to know what town you’re in, if not what street you’re driving on.  We kind of had a love/hate relationship with the things.

The other day, while on a long walk, I found the name of the street etched on the curb.  In very elegant etched letters it said “Glades Rd.”  I won’t tell you what cross street this was to see who might be able to identify the location (or locations – I have looked for a couple of days and not replicated this sighting).

Why did they do that?  Does Boca want to compete with Coral Gables for the most illegible street signs?  Do they want to provide some backup when a hurricane blows down all the street signs? (This doesn’t make sense – if you can’t figure out you’re on Glades, you’re not going to find any smaller streets!) This particular location did not seem central enough to merit that.  Somebody took some time and energy to put this very unpretentious name into the concrete of the gutter.   Why?

I think it almost poetic to inscribe the name of the road on the curb.  Amidst the majestic fountains and signs that serve as markers for neighborhoods around Boca, the street that connects many of them pronounces itself with a certain humility, and at the same time permanency.

And maybe not with poetic flair as much as kindness—it greeted me, the pedestrian, in a way that only those who go slowly can receive it.  I’ve crossed Glades many times, and yet only last Friday did I see it.  Have you ever gone unnoticed?

I think the world is full of what (in the car world at least) are known as Easter eggs.  In the car world this idea points to little design elements that the casual observer would miss, but not the enthusiast.  I don’t want to go through this life as a casual observer, glossing over the finer details that our Creator has planted in His creation for the enthusiast, or “devoted” as we would say in religious parlance.  I want to see the smallest flower or the flower that only blossoms in the canopy of the jungle, or the delicate coral that only fish or those with B/C’s can see. Or the homeless guy that nobody has talked to in a week, or…. the list goes on.  These little gems come in as many forms as the creativeness of God allows.

I think that universally I have noticed these little forms of grace when I am moving slowly, or not at all.  It’s when you stand long enough at the edge of the water that the fish start venturing out.  It’s sitting by the side of the woods long enough that the elk come meandering. (Have you been to Cataloochee?)

And the nuggets of the spiritual life can only be found when we take time to notice.  Or inquire.  It is in prayer time that God speaks.  Too often, we have the music, or the sound track of life, blaring so loudly that we miss the smell of the roses.  We miss the spiritual nudges.  We miss the voice of God.

Take time to listen and to watch this week.  And let me know what you find.  Including the etching on the curb.

Back home,

Craig

“For God alone, O my soul, wait in silence, for my hope is from him.” 

Psalm 62:5 (NIV)