Beauty

“A word aptly spoken is like apples of gold in settings of silver.”  Proverbs 25:11

A single word in a private, transparent conversation can be especially beautiful, just as common fruit becomes still more beautiful in silver baskets.  I had such an experience today in conversation with a  young woman I’ve known for the last 5 years, one who dared to be real with me.  We sat lakeside with white caps crashing across the water and invited our souls to touch.  It was an honor, and a beautiful tribute to her authenticity and the potential of our relationship.

Beauty is a thing seldom seen. It is held by all within the soul, waiting to come out to the surface, but can only be found when another joins you there... 

– Urban Dictionary

Back Roads

This afternoon I drove meandering back roads to a favorite country marketplace, which is the only way to get there.  There are no speed routes when you travel deep in the boonies, just narrow, winding, rutted roads.

Quiet roads.  Peaceful roads.

As I sped along, the countryside flaunted fragrant, lush greenery.  Tall, windswept grasses seemed to wave me on and on: this way, this way.  Huge patches of wild phlox lined the tree-lined road and beyond, their sweet, heady aromas blowing thick through my car’s open windows: wild aromatherapy.

I pulled my camera from my purse to capture the simple visual beauty of the addictive wilderness: lush, unsophisticated, beautiful, Eden-like.  I owned another life shaped by time, expectation, and responsibility, but it existed elsewhere, far from this pleasure.

Footwear Fad

The Queen (age 18 months) had been sorting dominoes and throwing balls in my living room for thirty minutes before I noticed she was wearing one sandal and one closed-toe shoe.  Her hip-slung jeans were riding low, their hems hiding her feet.

“Where are your shoes?” I asked.  She pointed at her feet.  “Where are my shoes?” She pointed at my feet. 

“But your shoes are different – look!” She seemed not to notice, let alone care.  Amazing! She could easily prefer function over form, purpose over style. 

“How do you do this?” I asked, laughing. “How do you wear two different kinds of shoes at the same time?”  It seemed comical to me.

I held her on my lap to take a picture of her mismatched shoes, but she pushed away the camera, wanting to get back to her game of tossing balls. She looked up at me as if to say, “Feet.  Shoes.  What’s the big deal?”

No biggie, sweet baby. Just a fabulous new footwear fad. 

Acceptance

A wild rabbit dared to eat my variegated English daisy plants for lunch, the ones already blooming with happy yellow centers surrounded by delicate pink, plum, and white petals.  The glutton literally mowed all the leaves and flowers to the ground, leaving behind only rooted remains of chewed-up greens.  Co-exist in peace, I muttered to myself under my breath. Don’t be possessive.  This isn’t about you and your little flowerbed dynasty.

For a few minutes I stood by the mailbox planter, feet spread wide like a sentry, and stared with slit eyes at the sawn-off plants until they swarmed in fuzzy abstraction.  The drama paralleled that of life everywhere at all times, I decided, the fine line between being here or not, between thriving or not. 

Shutting out the hard evidence before me with the squint, I also contemplated how every second of life is a unique gift that will never be repeated in exactly the same way again.  How freedom from the bondage of expectation lies in releasing control and allowing life to be what it is.

Then I opened my eyes wide, turned, and chose to walk the way that leads to healing from brokenness: acceptance.  Thank you, bunny rabbit, for reminding me to accept rather than regret.

There is a time for everything,
 and a season for every activity under the heavens:

a time to be born and a time to die,
 

a time to plant and a time to uproot,

a time to kill and a time to heal,
 

a time to tear down and a time to build,

a time to weep and a time to laugh,
 

a time to mourn and a time to dance,

a time to scatter stones and a time to gather them,
 

a time to embrace and a time to refrain from embracing,

a time to search and a time to give up,
 

a time to keep and a time to throw away,

a time to tear and a time to mend,
    

a time to be silent and a time to speak,

a time to love and a time to hate,
    

a time for war and a time for peace.

- King Solomon, Ecclesiastes 3:1-8

My Children

Love gentle, I tell myself, soft like moonlight,  

Quiet and mild.

Support their hearts,

Their races long.

With grace and favor, watch them run. 

Make Way for Ducklings

We churned through the miles on a 4-lane highway at 70 mph, focused less on the experience of travel and more on an expedient arrival at our destination. Suddenly, several cars in front of us braked and swerved as if to dodge an obstacle on the road.  We also slowed and soon spotted the “obstruction” for ourselves.

A mother duck waddled along with tiny babies scuttling behind, seemingly unaware of her plight.  She marched proudly with head held high across the centerline and into the lanes of oncoming traffic. 

We exclaimed involuntarily as we passed by: “Oh look!” and, “How sweet!” followed by a panicked, “Watch out, mama!”  Surely they would never make it to the other side.  Several cars and a large semi were approaching from the opposite direction, bearing down at breakneck speed.

We watched in our rear view mirrors, and saw….red brake lights and more red brake lights. The driver of every vehicle, no doubt as surprised as we were, made every attempt to avoid hitting the duck family. Even the trucker, who didn’t have time to gear down, braked and swished from one lane to the other.   Our last glimpse proved mama and babies had made it safely to the other side on the grassy berm.

We drove on, grateful for their safe passage in perilous conditions, but also grateful for the opportunity to witness unrehearsed, spontaneous human reactions testifying to the pro-life heart of mankind.

Party Time!

A few friends joined our family (the family is currently comprised of 9 adults and 9 grandchildren) to share birthday bliss at a nearby park this afternoon and celebrate two cousins turning 5 years old.  A fuzzy 8-week-old German Shepherd puppy, a gift to one of the birthday girls, crashed the party and stole the show.   A scaled-down two-wheeler bike with training wheels, a gift to the other birthday girl, also took center stage.

Infectious delight!  Exuberance! Joy!

While observing interactions - football, frisbee, playground activity - I considered the scope of the memories being forged. This is how children learn to hope, I decided, by trusting goodness to prevail.