Pole jackets? Trust me, never heard of them
For twenty-five years I have walked dogs past the same two dozen utility poles. Today I notice again the crumbling sheath at the base of one of them. It must be the light.
Cobalt, indigo, aqua, then a mix of lilac, umber, and ocher—even loden green—there are so many hues!
Time and weather have deckled the edges, like handmade paper. Tacked straight into wood with three galvanized nails, this is the only utility jacket wrapping a pole on our road.
Was it attached to protect the base from rot? Was it an insect barrier? Why this pole?
From a distance, the substance is a mystery, mottled, like pigments bleeding together on thick wet paper.
The dog and I close in on it. It’s plastic, and brittle, the color of bruises.
If you’ve followed this blog for a while, you know I love the way everyday sights suggest insights.
So far, I’m stumped.
Trust and instinct
The pole jacket bugs me. Why can’t I walk away? The dog’s certainly ready to go. There’s something here I need to understand. When a mysterious image sticks with me, pondering it often triggers prayer.
Or a poem.
Will thinking up similes unlock this haunting?
Circling the pole, I imagine felted Bavarian vests. And girdles. Then cumberbunds (also called cummerbunds), worn by . . .
- grooms
- musicians
- athletes
- soldiers
- scuba divers (the wide waistband sealing jacket to pants)
And, inexplicably, one power pole.
Fashion-wise, cumberbunds provide a transition at the waist, the visual center of the body, or “trunk.” (One-third of this pole is buried, so I’m studying an extra-low waistline.)
Truth is, I’m in transition. How about you?
Truth-telling and trust
Sometimes it feels impossible to understand what God’s doing in our lives. We study it from every angle and can’t figure it out. Stress assails us, followed by fear.
Trust wavers.
Thinking of the pole jacket again, I’m reminded of the armor of God, which we are encouraged to wear.
“So use every piece of God’s armor to resist the enemy whenever he attacks, and when it is all over, you will still be standing up. But to do this, you will need the strong belt of truth . . . (Ephesians 6:13-14a TLB).”
Perhaps part of wearing that belt of “truth” includes honestly assessing our current level of trust.
When we feel clueless, will we trust God? Will we wrap our souls in Mystery?
MAKING IT PERSONAL:
What are you learning about trust these days?
I am learning that I don’t have to be strong. The Lord is holding me together and when I yield my flimsy strength to trusting in His strength, I finally rest. God can figure it all out. I don’t have to and can’t.
Gena, what a heartening revelation, and so practical, too. Another hard-won secret of rest, learned in the living of it, hour by hour. I salute your path and thank you for sharing a little of it here. Love you!
Maybe it’s unintentional or simply a natural expression for you, but I read these words as poetry: “From a distance, the substance is a mystery, mottled, like pigments bleeding together on thick wet paper.” Lovely imagery here. I also love the way you ponder about the things you photograph and see them in a whole new light. There is divine alchemy and mystery at work in creativity alone, never mind sensing grace wrapped up in the mundane as we go about our days. Thank you for this lovely word, Laurie. Bless you. 🙂 x
Joy, this sentence of yours is lovely: “There is divine alchemy and mystery at work in creativity alone, never mind sensing grace wrapped up in the mundane as we go about our days.” Thank you for seeing poetry in the words as well as the world. Your vision blesses me.
wow….Laurie I love how you weave wonder through your words as you wonder about God’s world! I so enjoy watching (seeing, listening) how you watch things.
trust….hmmmm…I’m gonna have to think about that. I’ll get back to you.
Jody, good morning! May wonder shanghai you today as well. Thanks for the encouragement. I’ll look forward to your thoughts on trust, an area I definitely want (and need) to grow in . . .