unhidden

What is the enjoyment of life?  Where is it? Is it possible to see it and find it? Is it possible to find it today—suddenly—like suddenly finding you're in the middle of your own surprise birthday party?  Is it possible joy is hiding right at this very moment, around the corner, breathlessly waiting for you—the guest of honor— to walk in and turn on the lights?

Shannon saw life in a different way. And this is key.  All who came into contact with her looked and listened because a different way of seeing life is a different way of seeing God.  And people may think they are busy little bees doing and thinking and seeing many things, but they are ONLY trying to see God.  She understood something about joy and life.  She understood what Abel was feeling as he presented himself before the alter of God: Life was funny.  And funny things could be laughed at.  Even God.  And God and his cosmos laughed back at her and with her.  To Shannon, life was something more like a song or a dance.   So she sang along.  Enjoying the harmonies. The high parts and the lows. And she danced.  But not to get to the end, or get it over with, or get anywhere; she danced just to dance.  Because it was fun.  Life was a dance; a thing to be enjoyed for the thing itself.  Which is love.  She held God and He held her and they danced. 
But the rest of us—the poor, blind rest of us— sit on the side.  Waiting for something. Waiting in the wings of Elah. Waiting in the mouth of the cave for God to pass by.  Always looking for him in the hurricanes, those rare and terrible things, but never in the gentle breezes; the daily, quiet voices.  We see the mundane where Shannon saw everyday eternities.  We walk outside occasionally reminded the grass needs mowing. Shannon walked outside constantly amazed that grass is green.  She loved life. She loved the existence God gave her.  She loved the bluebird that dropped briefly into her backyard as profoundly as she loved the grocer that briefly dropped groceries into her bag.  These were not random events. They were anything but random. They were a rhythm and a melody to be enjoyed for themselves. They were the ever surprising spins and twirls of the dance.