There was a cool, a dead calm, and a cool,
But not silence, for as I approached the lake,
The geese sounded their alarm. Grateful
For the cool, I donned a jacket and sat,
Taking a moment to think, absorb, react,
Meditate, and find my place, as acorns
Fall all around me, almost like a blitz, or maybe
Blitz isn't the word, for as I write the "l"
One sharply stings my foot. "Just don't fall
In my coffee," I think to myself. I am
Reminded of being so struck before, locked out,
And waiting, reading my Institutes. He says
That there is providence, an active creating,
No room for luck or coincidence. No, each acorn
That falls is specifically cast so by God.
It makes sense, planting seeds and whatnot,
But what about this one seed that struck
My foot, and lies on the wooden dock, below,
Unplanted, fallow, not even in rocky soil?
All around me I see them, in various stages
Of rot, decay, misused, impossible to ignore
Wasted potential, seeds, which all could have
Been trees if they had fallen differently, why?
Did they not believe enough—at all, to be so
Wasted, life unlived? Calvin would say it is
A mystery, and faithfully, prayerfully leave
It there, but his followers, have been more sure
About its meaning, taking Blessed Assurance
In election and non-election—in and out,
Saved and not. I rub my foot, look around,
And hear five plop-plops into the water, whisper
Amen, lay down my pen, thanking The Lord.
"How much soever causes may escape our notice, we must feel assured that they are deposited with him, and accordingly exclaim with David, 'Many, O Lord my god, are thy wonderful works which thou hast done, and thy thoughts which are to us-ward: if I would declare and speak of them, they are more than can be numbered,' (Psalm 40.5). for while our adversities ought always to remind us of our sins, that the punishment may incline us to repentance, we see, moreover, how Christ declares there is something more in the secret counsel of his Father. . . " - John Calvin, "The Institutes of the Christian Religion"