Spokane, Washington is roughly two-thirds the size of Nashville, Tennessee. While Nashville sits beside the Cumberland River has a River Front Park, Spokane straddles the Spokane River and has a Riverside Park. However, the two don’t really equate. The Cumberland River slowly and methodically moves through Nashville, wide and deep without much of a whisper. By comparison, the Spokane River breaks into three parts which hurriedly and viscously pounds it way to rejoin the branches on the opposite side of the city. The Spokane River has a loud, demanding roar. The Cumberland is murky and muddy. The Spokane is clear, deep blue-green, and nearly transparent.
Spokane’s Riverside Park is planted on and connected to various islands. The leaders of the city wisely took advantage of the 1974 World’s Fair site. It is a most relaxing and romantic place to walk any time of day. Except for the geese which wander to and fro on land and water, it is barefoot clean. In the extreme northeast corner of the park, there is a sundial.
I did not know much about sundials so I researched the topic. I got the “dial” part easily enough but I did not know what the vertical part of a sundial was called. It is called a “pointer.” The name does not make sense to me because it doesn’t point to anything. It is the pointer’s shadow that does all the telling. Standing in the direct sunlight is no easy or painless task. The Spokane pointer stands close to eight feet tall and is surrounded by a concrete numbered dial approximately ten feet in diameter. If one takes the time to walk over to view it closely, one will notice that the sundial is not often visited. It is its’ own destination.
There is a bench close by for those who want to watch time pass. I never felt like I had the time. Judging from the weathering of the bench’s wood and lack of wear on the slats of the bench, watching a shadow move is not a much-enjoyed tourist activity
I walked over to the sundial four times while we were in the city. Something in me wanted to check the sundial’s accuracy against my cell phone clock. I was hoping to determine if and by how much the time was off; but alas, it was broken-telling no time. The sun was hidden behind clouds each time I walked over to take a gander.
There was light enough to see but no direct source of light. The light available was ambient light. The revealing light was obscured and filtered by clouds. I have the same problem with seeing God’s direction for my life. The source of light is there, but it is more ambient than direct. My desires for maximizing my pleasure and minimizing my pain have come between me and the Light. My comfort becomes my blindness not only to God’s direction but to His correction, and even His relief. But that is not the full extent of the calamity; I become a cloud between God and the people around me. My life blots out God’s testimony in me for anyone trying to discover the times in which they are living. The Truth is standing upright before me; however, my partial or incomplete emersion into the love of God leaves onlookers uncertain as to what God is saying to them.
The more complete my surrender to the flow of God’s love, the clearer God’s love is revealed to those around me.
Photo – Mine. Spokane, Washington July 2019.
Baldwin Heirlooms 