|I'm standing on my deck, looking toward the southeast.|
That's Brad Clark's farm over there. Hi, Brad and Nancy!
We moved into Ye Olde Rozetta Parsonage (in the days before it became known as Stately Bennett Manor) in early September of 2004. We were pretty much completely surrounded by cornfields, and that seemed just right to us. After all, we had always lived in farming communities...and I had spent the first 20 years of my life on a farm!
The surprise came the following month when the corn was harvested and we discovered our view! What a shock to be able to see SO FAR in every direction! We discovered houses and trees and fence-lines that we didn't know existed!
For days, we stood at the French doors leading out onto the deck, staring slack-jawed like hillbillies in the city.
Truth be told, though...while it's always fun to watch the corn come up, and while it's still a hoot to get our view back every fall, we're kind of used to it now.
And, most often, my view out the French doors is obstructed by objects in the foreground:
|School time! |
(For the record, I don't know that Mary and Grace were nearly as unhappy
as they appear in this picture,
and I also don't know that Jamie was really
all that maniacally happy...but I guess it sort of balances out.)
But, sadly, I fear that any view, no matter how beautiful, gets to be a little too easily-ignorable over time. I know how easy it is for me to see my kids as a mob that needs to be managed or work that needs to be done rather than as individual blessings. And I think that can happen pretty easily with any of the good things in our lives.
It's only when something comes along that makes a ripple in our routine that we pause long enough to take notice.
For instance, that view to my southeast looked a little different this morning:
|Aahhh! It's the fog that ate Clark Farms!|
I didn't hear the fog roll in. I hadn't even heard it was predicted. I just looked out the window and there it was! And all the things I was used to seeing out the window...there they weren't! I never really think much about looking up from doing school and glancing over at the neighboring farms or taking in the timber way down at the south end of that field...until everything is completely eclipsed from view.
I don't know...maybe it's a stretch because I'm used to making a point right about now in a blog post, but this really did make me consider the importance of appreciating all the people, things, and situations that make up the view of my life. It's not like I get a text alert from the Weather Channel, letting me know that I'm allowing the hazy blur of busyness to ruin my focus on the things that should be very important to me. I have to be vigilant and prayerful. Intentional. Always trying to see things with the fresh eyes of appreciation.
Know what I mean?
Every good and perfect gift is from above,
coming down from the Father of the heavenly lights,
who does not change like shifting shadows.