God's Mischief, Revisited

a devotional for spring

My Dear Readers,

I need to beg your deepest pardon! It will likely come as a shock to none of you that the darling dog stole our hearts and made herself at home, and we couldn’t be happier! She is a complete sweetheart, and we’re all smitten. As a result, the past week and weekend have been a lot of adjusting to turning our family of three into a family of four, and today’s devotional completely dropped off of my mental map!

That said, I don’t like to leave you all with nothing, so please enjoy this revisited devotional from around this time last year. I found it again recently when I was looking for another post and it made me smile—I hope it makes you smile, too! The season of Bealtaine is still a handful of days away, but I can already feel the mischief around every corner!

Love and blessings on your week!

S.E. Reid

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Photo by Dylan Leagh on Unsplash

oh children of Bealtaine, be wary!
for the God of Spring
has left surprises on the path:

shells that are not empty, 
nests of eggs in the barest trees,
frogs in the watering cans,
flowers in the marsh!

each glimmer of delight
a subtle reward
for your survival:

you've made it through another winter;

and the robin sings
and sings
and sings
well after nightfall. 

There’s a pretty well-documented shiver of mystery that surrounds Samhain, the autumn threshold into the darker months of the year. But a similar mystique surrounds Bealtaine, her springtime sister, her seasonal twin.

Sure, it’s more sunny than spooky, but there’s a strangeness in the air. A frisson.

It’s mischief. God’s mischief.

For example, a few days ago I was walking the dog on our usual route. It was a gorgeous day, the kind of sunshine you wait all winter for. At the corner where our long gravel driveway meets the moderately busy paved road, I found a beautifully intact garden snail shell sitting on the asphalt.

I picked it up; it was empty and light. Knowing it would only be crushed by a wayward foot or tire, I pocketed it.

This is probably as good a time as any to say that I love snails. I find them fascinating, and any creature that carries its own house along with it is basically kin, being a homebody myself.

Once I got home, I tucked the shell into a small pot containing a freshly-watered houseplant as a reverent decoration, and I went about my business.

For two days, I took impassive notice of the shell as I passed it to and fro through our sunroom. But then, on the weekend, I noticed that the shell was sitting upright, when I had definitely placed it on its side originally.

Upon investigating…a very confused snail was peeking out at me from underneath!

With an involuntary squeal and a lot of apologies, I picked it up and ran out to our pond where I deposited it in a nice shady muddy spot, far away from my tender garden plants.

My theory is that the shell felt so light and empty when I first picked it up because the poor thing was drying out, and by putting it in the moist soil of the houseplant pot I had unwittingly rehabilitated it!

I swear, I swear, I heard God’s laughter in my own as I left the pond. Shocked, relieved laughter. I don’t dare imagine what would have happened if I hadn’t noticed the snail, and it had crawled away into the sunroom somewhere!

But that’s not what happened. Instead, I saved a tiny life by accident. A pest to some, but a tiny life all the same.

That is Bealtaine in a nutshell. This is the season for holy surprise, where God will make mischief and we will witness wonders. All that is required of us is to pay close, rapturous, and ready attention.

What will you see, today? And are you ready to see it?

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