By the banks of Clear Lake, as several two-man crews race in cardboard boats, I suddenly had the Spirit descend on me. The sun baked the scene, as August sun tends to do. The beauty of the mountains framed the hot sun and the fun times of kids playing in the jumping tents and on the beach. Now, we lined up to open a chorus of encouragement for military airmen who had constructed boats out of duct tape and pressed paper. The group of spectators around me was my wife, my son and a dozen people unknown to us. Then it was there, coming down like a dove of peace. While I don’t know the names of the people next to us, or the airmen rowing, nor they will know our name, a spirit of love came upon us and dwelled us. Love was shared and we grew as a group in the sun. As I look at creation, I declared it was good. Love transcends us and flowed through our group even as some of the boat sunk, unable to stand the baptism of lake water.
We share a spirit of love as my son waved a nautical flag, and the others cheered on their friends and family. A stranger let him play with the flag simply to see a boy enjoy himself. The Holy Spirit breathed into our nostrils and God was present. Love overcomes us in moments like these, when stillness breeds a deep sense of overwhelming beauty voices the presence of love, of God. Most of the time we fail to pay attention to these moments, we instead chase dreams of happiness and success, whatever they maybe. Such striving stifles. We want the largeness of success, rather than beauty of simple being alive.
We found ourselves at the lake out of the kindness of 141st division. Last year they honored my son, Tito as their Pilot of the Day and now they include us in their annual picnic and Christmas parties. We get invitations to their events and we go out of honor. We honor their many gifts to us. Such is the case with love.
The truth has the level of being fully alive. God then breathes in life into our nostrils. Being at the Clear Lake with all those airmen, I felt Jesus presences. Lace, Tito are at the banks of the lake watching boats were made of cardboard box, duct tape and electric tape race for the creative act of being alive. Each boat made in a attempt to be creative reflecting the creativeness of our nature and God. The Bible says we were made in God’s image. When grace come over us, then we can see the truth, the Kingdom of God is at hand and Jesus is with us always.
Art, says Ernesto Tinajero, comes from the border of what has come before and what is coming next. Tinajero uses his experience studying poetry and theology to write about the intersecting borders of art, poetry and religion.