Cracked clay lies parched against this flowing river.
What does this picture say to you?
Showing posts with label outdoors. Show all posts
Showing posts with label outdoors. Show all posts
Starting on the Path of Thankfulness
The well worn path wears me. Two gravel lines, patchy with crab grass, offer little beauty. Steadiness perhaps … solid, guidance, understated … but I don’t see any of it. “Let’s go on the trail mommy!” my youngest bursts to a sprint up the nearby hill of shrubs along the lakeshore. The moment I step into the wooded trail, a sigh escapes releasing tension I was unaware I held.
Nearly a different world, this tiny trail – a grown over windrow of gravel – secludes a view of the foggy lake, glassy water bulbs on tender leaves, gnarled poplar roots. I can peek through these young trees at the parallel driving path we left behind. Perspective. Changing perspective can change my life.
Today I begin a journey of a thousand steps; one of open eyes, of gratitude. Ann Voskamps “One Thousand Gifts”, a fabulously written work about the language of thankfulness, has inspired me to also pen gratitude into joy and fullness of life; worship.
How appropriate then that this journey begins with two trails diverged. One heavily trodden, straightforward, common. The other hidden from sight, yet lush; a rich oasis to discover.
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Breathe - Repost
On a cold, blustery day like this one, I like to remember the better days of winter...
We nestle in white powder snow beneath grey afternoon clouds. I watch her scoop snow into her plastic shovel and dump it into a Tonka truck. My eyes grow heavy as I watch him push a yellow metal loader through snow piles. My shoulders sag beneath invisible weight. My little ones play, unaware it is nap time. I lay on the snow, close my eyes. Loader wheels squeak. Swish-a-swash Swish-a-swash. Snow pants rub as she walks. Snow sprays on my forehead as boots approach and she shovels snow onto my legs. "I'm covering you, mommy!" She laughs.
The fresh air is cool and moves. It wafts towards my cheeks, then away. It tenderly floats across my nose. A smile crosses my face. Only now do I realize that out here, beneath clouds, I can feel air. In my house, our manufactured temperature lacks the fresh movement only God can create. He didn't just give us oxygen - he made it move. It touches me. It caresses my face, entices my nose with endless scents and, a strong wind even wraps its arms around me.
My son lays silent beside me, inches from my face. I open my eyes and we gaze at each other, smiling. His blue eyes dance with joy. This moment, God is here smiling with us. We're rich and blessed to share this - to lay on soft snow and breathe.
We nestle in white powder snow beneath grey afternoon clouds. I watch her scoop snow into her plastic shovel and dump it into a Tonka truck. My eyes grow heavy as I watch him push a yellow metal loader through snow piles. My shoulders sag beneath invisible weight. My little ones play, unaware it is nap time. I lay on the snow, close my eyes. Loader wheels squeak. Swish-a-swash Swish-a-swash. Snow pants rub as she walks. Snow sprays on my forehead as boots approach and she shovels snow onto my legs. "I'm covering you, mommy!" She laughs.
The fresh air is cool and moves. It wafts towards my cheeks, then away. It tenderly floats across my nose. A smile crosses my face. Only now do I realize that out here, beneath clouds, I can feel air. In my house, our manufactured temperature lacks the fresh movement only God can create. He didn't just give us oxygen - he made it move. It touches me. It caresses my face, entices my nose with endless scents and, a strong wind even wraps its arms around me.
My son lays silent beside me, inches from my face. I open my eyes and we gaze at each other, smiling. His blue eyes dance with joy. This moment, God is here smiling with us. We're rich and blessed to share this - to lay on soft snow and breathe.
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