These past weeks I've been brain-weary, trying to put together this blog.It's been one trial-and-error after another, which seems to be my style. Of course, I made it more complicated by choosing to personalize the look of it rather than just use one of the excellent pre-designed banner templates. One of my husband's photos would be just the thing, I thought, which turned out (for this rookie) to take awhile. But finally, finally, here we are.
The photo you see across the top gives you a sense of what we see from our back deck. We delight in watching this ever-changing panorama of sky, as well as looking over a bit of open space. My favorite trees, the huge, gnarled old oaks that drag the ground, stand sentinal, as they have for a century or more. Picture a walking trail winding through this. Occasionally small flocks of wild turkeys gobble their way across, sometimes invading backyards and strutting down the sidewalks of our little community. In the cool of the morning and at dusk our resident trio of deer may stroll the open space, enjoying nibbles of the now-dry grass. Morning to night we hear birdsong, everything from Mockingbirds to Mourning Doves.
As we look beyond our "wildlife preserve" we see hundreds of roofs and treetops. The busy street running through guarantees background traffic noise, but we ignore that and look to the grassy hills beyond, where more ancient oaks punctuate the terrain. Off in the distance–on a clear day–we glimpse the Sutter Buttes, known as the world's smallest mountain range. If you've been to northern California, you know the look of our area.
Each day ends with a sunset. Some sunsets, like the one you see at the top of this page, make us gasp with awe. We stand transfixed and silently watch the incredible kaleidescope shimmering before us, often forgetting to grab the camera. Always, one verse comes to mind, the only one that fits: <blockquote
"Be still and know that I am God." (Psalm 46:10)
Do we know we're blessed to live here, and are we thankful? Yes. But do we always stop to drink it in? Sadly, no.
I think that's how most of us are with life, too. We're often as blind to the wonder of our lives as to the magnificence of another sunset … or another dawn.
Each sunrise officially signals the new day. Maybe yesterday we messed up royally, but today the slate is clean and we get a fresh, new beginning. Once more we can choose how we'll live the unsullied twenty-four hours before us.
Some days our hearts brim with joy, while others leave us weeping. Most days we label, "just routine." Truth is, no day is routine. Like every sunrise and every sunset, each day is one-of-a-kind, with no instant replays to be had.
That's true with the people in our lives, too. We so easily take them for granted, especially the ones we know we can count on. We forget to say, "thank you," and sometimes we forget that love takes care and feeding, like a delicate plant that can wither and die.
As for mothering–or any kind of working with kids, well, you know how it goes. We get caught up in all the "doing" and forget to just pause and marvel at the mystery unfolding before us. Each child is a unique creation, an individual, like no other human being on earth. Yet somehow God trusts us with this child's care and shaping and guiding, day after challenging–and rewarding–day. We're allowed to be on the scene for the miracle.
Whatever age we are, it's worth remembering that tomorrow may never arrive. That sets the true value on today: precious. Irreplaceable. A time to savor and cherish. Something to live, not just get through.
For me, at least, mastering this skill looks to be the work of a lifetime. But I am learning, and I'm praying for eyes to see the beauty of each day and each person in my life. I don't want to miss any part of it.
So here's to 20/20 vision of the heart!
Lenore Buth