I was asked to give the homily at church this morning and have spent the past month or more reflecting on what to say. Of course, it was to my blog that I turned for inspiration for I knew that parts of the story were tucked within these posts.

Driving home from a recent Trail Snails walk, I spotted this statement on a roadside sign: “There is no Planet B.” And I thought it was an apropos title for what I want to share with you this morning.

On Sunday, March 23, in Forward Day by Day, Tyler Richards, a priest serving St. Anne’s Episcopal Church in De Pere, Wisconsin, responded to Exodus 3:vs 3-4: Then Moses said, “I must turn aside and look at this great sight, and see why the bush is not burned up.” When the Lord saw that he had turned aside to see, God called to him out of the bush, “Moses, Moses!” And he said, “Here I am.”

Reverend Richards commented, “I do not have an accurate account of the things that have caused me to stop and look again. Solar eclipses, northern lights, sunrises, and sunsets are a few of these.”

He continued, “God asks us to turn aside and experience wonder. God’s creation is a source of endless contemplation, and, at times, so is human ingenuity. But these great wonders that take our breath away prompt me to ask: What are they for? Are they an end to themselves, or are they there to remind us that God is even more incredible? Indeed, God is so great that God inspires and colors the very creation itself. It might not always be a burning bush that causes us to gasp at God’s greatness.”

In response to that I invite all of you to join me as I share a few of the thin places I have visited, where I see the light more on this side than the other. These are not burning bushes, but they do make me gasp at God’s greatness. The first I call “Emergence.”

Emergence

Oh dragonfly, oh dragonfly. 

In your infancy,
You laboriously
Climbed upon a slender stem. 

Ever
So
Slowly,
Seams split.

Soft and squishy,
You spilled forth
Into this sunlit world. 

Perched upon your former self, 
Wispy strings recalled 
Aquatic breaths. 
Moments slipped
Into an hour. 

Your body of velvet pulsed
As blood pumped 
Into cloudy wings. 

Standing guard watching you,
I noted preparations 
For first flight. 

Eyes bulging, 
You chose a spot
Of viewpoint advantage. 
Colors changing, 
You gained the markings
Of generations past. 

Wings drying, 
You offered a reflection
Of stained glass. 
Beyond understanding,
You flew,
A dance of darting restlessness. 

Odonata, Odonata, 
You have known both worlds. 
First playing beneath the watery surface. 

Then in a manner so brave, 
Climbing skyward
To ride summer breezes
On gossamer wings. 

Forever in awe
Of your transformation 
From aquatic naiad 
To winged adult,
I can only imagine
The wonder of emergence. 

******

Drawn by the Sapsuckers is next. 

Along a path
Through a cathedral in the pines, 
It seemed apropos 
That I should spy
The works of
An Oak Apple Gall wasp. 

For it is believed
That circa 800AD
Irish monks used such galls
To create the green colorant
Of their artwork 
As displayed
In the Book of Kells. 

My first intention of wander
Upon this special day
Was soon verified when I was
About twenty feet
From a maple tree
For I could hear peeps
From the ever hungry 
Babes within. 

Only two weeks prior
Father Sapsucker entered 
The nest hole every few minutes
To nurture his offspring, but today
Things had changed. 

No sooner did he toss in a meal
When a nestling popped its head out
And begged for more. 

Finally, with the urging 
Of the ever present deer flies,
I moved on
To the neighboring meadow 
And gave thanks when 
A Slaty Blue Skimmer Dragonfly
Snatched a pesky insect
From my head
And settled upon a stem to dine. 

Nearby on a milkweed leaf
I spied something tiny.

By the X-shaped pattern
On its back,
I knew it was
A Spring Peeper.
Sitting two feet 
Above the ground, 
This little frog
Hid from predators
During the day
As it waited for dusk
To crawl down
The plant's stem
And munch a meal
Of its choice. 

Behind the wee frog
A dash of color
Brightened the background.

Bedecked in orange and black,
This being a Fritillary butterfly,
It flew
Down the path
And out of my vision. 

In this same place,
Tiger Swallowtail butterflies
Added their yellow wings
To the tapestry. 

Plentiful in number, 
Skimmer dragonflies, 
Each with a uniqueness 
All its own
From Spangled to 
Dot-tailed and Great Blue
Chased down meals
And hunted for mates. 

Before departing
I checked 
On the nestlings
In the Red Maple trunk, 
While their papa
Did the same
From a tree
Ten feet away. 

Was he teaching them patience? 
Perhaps. 
Sensing our time together
Was waning,
I gave thanks
That it was the Yellow-bellied Sapsuckers
Who drew me to this place. 

******

Finally, 

"The way to be heard isn't to shout," said the Reverend Sam Wells of St. Martins in the Fields, London. "It's to whisper." 

But, I ask you, who are the whisperers? 

As you go forth this spring . . . 

Listen for the slightest murmur
 Of Beaked Hazelnut 
Sharing its most 
Beautiful, yet minute
Magenta blossoms 
That so many never see. 

Hear also
The soft words
Of Trailing Arbutus
Hiding its delicate flowers
Beneath leathery leaves. 

Be attentive to Hobblebush
No matter how much
It makes you stumble, 
For it always
Has more to offer
Including corrugated leaves unfurling
And a flowerhead silently forming. 

Give audience
To Rhodora's woody seed structure
Of last year
Before her brilliant pink flowers
Soon distract. 

Pay attention 
To the male Hairy Woodpecker
Who speaks 
In hushed pecks
As two females
Squabble for his attention. 

Focus on 
The soft cheers
Of Female Red Maple flowers
waiving their pompom stigmas
in hopes of meeting . . . 

Male pollen 
Blowing in the wind. 

Remember to 
Keep your voice low
As you spy
The first crosiers
Of the most Sensitive Ferns. 

Heed the inner voice
Of Mystery
And Be Present
With your heart and soul. 

I invite you 
To walk in silence 
Throughout the forest and wetlands 
While listening intently 
To all 
Who whisper along the trail. 

******

I’ll end with part of an entry from Creation Justice Ministries’ Seeking Creation: Lent 2025 Devotional.

Referencing Ezekiel 37:21-28, the authors wrote, “God’s goal is not to abandon Creation that God has made. It is to live with us among that Creation. A theology that suggests that God’s good Creation was made solely for us to deplete it and hoard resources from one another ignores the long line of biblical witness that cast a vision of a united humanity where the Creator lives among the creatures, us included.

That God would want to live among Creation should tell us something of Creation’s Worth to God. It is not disposable. It is not replaceable. It is not profane. The dream of a Holy God is to live among Holy people within the holiness of Creation. May it be so.”

And remember: There is no Planet B. This is all we have.

May hushed voices shout from every corner of the Planet AND as those voices uplift your spirits, may you realize God’s greatness and never lose your sense of wonder. ~Amen.