Black and White

When I left the house, there was just enough light to see the contrasts of the gray road and the black trees. Color was missing from the predawn world. The landscape reminded me of the black and white photos that I had seen on display at the library the day before. Slowly, as we ran up the hill, color returned to the houses, the sky, the land. I thought of all the times that I have failed to see that there is more than one way to see. I often forget that the world looks different to a four-year-old than it does to one who is 37. It often looks different to my husband than to me. Because of my failure to understand the differences in perspective, I often miss opportunities to learn from others. I fail to give grace where it is needed. I fail to love with a love that sees in more than black and white.

When I first came up out of the basin, the sky was filled with billowing, gray storm clouds to the east, but the sky to the west was still a pale, winter's blue with just a smudge of cloud above the Peak. By the time that I turned for home, the gray clouds had almost completely taken over the sky. Only a bit of blue still showed above the horizon. How quickly the view can change! I often forget that the struggles and joys of today will soon be lost to the advance of time. Soon, I will wish for the days of diapers and division with decimals. But these days will be replaced with other equally demanding and precious. Today, I must love with passion and grace the people that God has given to me to love so that when the view changes, they remember a mother's love that pointed them to a God of even greater love.

The trick is to not let the lessons that the Spirit whispers to the sound of footfalls on gravel be drowned out by the daily din.

On the road again. . .

So, the diagnosis of the first doctor was overruled by the second. Thanks to the second opinion, I am up and running again, at least in theory. Now, the challenge seems to be finding the time to fit in the exercises from the physical therapist and also the miles needed to build up to a 50K in just fifteen weeks. Yikes! This all comes at a time, when progress in homeschooling is attempting to grind to a halt despite my most valiant efforts, the spring cleaning/decorating bug is biting hard, and life just seems to be spinning faster than my head. Is that even possible?

And so, I just have to step back and ask that God will guide my days and my thoughts. One of those thoughts that has been brought to my mind over and over again is that in the midst of my days, I desire to make my God beautiful in the sight of my children and husband. How? I think that for me, that is a matter of joy. Joy that isn't limited by my control of the details of the days, but that is rooted in my relationship with the One who has written my days and knows their number. So, perhaps the most important road that I walk today will be the one that is walked in the quiet of my closet. That road takes courage and discipline as great as any other.