This morning I awoke to the sounds of thunder clapping against the clouds. Pellets of rain smacked into my window, providing me quite a symphony to wake up to. And maybe the best thing of all is that I woke up realizing that it was Saturday morning. Probably my favorite time of the week is Saturday morning. It's a deep breath of fresh air. it's like walking outside into the sun after being in a chilly room. It's these things and many more. I like to think of it as a gift. A simple gift. Time.
This afternoon I took my book (Leif Enger's Peace Like a River) and walked outside to sit and read. No, I didn't survey the ground for ants, but I found a good spot nonetheless. The ground was soft and mushy where the shadows prevented the sun from shining. I could see my footprint in the soft, pliable earth.
It's a phenomenon much like our hearts, this whole soft, pliable firmament. When the ground is soft you can see footprints really easily. You can see the footprints of Jesus in certain people's lives as well, and they're usually the ones with soft, pliable hearts. The sun is a beautiful, warming thing, but it can harden the ground like nobody's business. It's like the good things in life. They can be so refreshing, warm, and bright, but they can slowly harden our hearts to the real Giver of all good things if we're not careful.
...careful to soak in the goodness of life, but to realize at the same time that there is more than this good stuff. There's a higher calling. There's real faith, and hope, and love to be had and to be realized, in every part of our lives. That's quite a high calling.
1 comment:
you should write a book, mark.
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