As I stood in my kitchen a few minutes ago waiting for my bagel to toast, I spent the time to truly gaze out my window, not glance, but gaze, and take it all in. While doing that, I was also wondering what I was going to put on the blog since I hadn't written for awhile. Thinking, for me, can be dangerous. It can be scary. It can be enlightening. It can be humorous. It can be all these things at one time.
So, first off, this is what I saw. I saw the beautiful, stately, deep green trees standing so tall and proud on the west side of my property--doing what firs and cedars do best, bring peace. Then, intermingled in the proud forest, were the droopy hemlocks doing what they do best, add some comic relief. I do love trees.
Then I noticed, to my amazement, that the lichen and moss covered branches of the birch tree were getting red. They were starting to bud. When did this happen? This is the first I had noticed it. The whole tree-filled picture was beautiful to my eyes with the dark greens, yellow greens, gray greens, grays, and reddish browns. While thanking God for his wonderful creation and the blessing it brings, I asked myself, "How does one capture these wonderful colors with what is available on an artist's palette?" I don't know.
Then I looked at what used to be a large garden area. It is now over run with different grasses and weeds. There is also a rather large pile of tree limbs that were removed from a couple trees that blew down a few years ago. The trees ultimately became firewood for people in need, but the limbs remain in a tall pile, waiting to be burned. I wondered what kind of critters might have made the future pyre their present sanctuary. That made me little sad.
I averted my eyes from the pile to the next nearest thing, the lawn (if you can call it that). Because the soil so so poor and hard out there, most of the lawn type grass has die off. What is left is quite thin and sickly. What really caught my attention didn't make me too happy. I had been invaded.
One, two, three...nine, ten. TEN!! Ten mole hills dotted my yard; and that was just the small area I could see. That means they will have to be raked down before I can mow later this spring. Even then, all that loose dirt dulls the mower blades, not to mention making the yard all bumpy. Dang moles. What good are they anyway? Now, came the irony and a laugh. Those mound-building moles eat the crane fly larva that destroy the roots of what grass I have left. The moles also aerate my lousy soil. This "can't win for losing" situation suddenly became the opposite. I seems I can't lose for winning.
The last thing I looked at was a small pile of old siding pieces and miscellaneous boards from a project awhile ago. Some is burnable, some is not. It is an eyesore, though small, but only if you look down where it is.
Now, here is where my thinking came in. When I looked close to my house I could see debris to be either dumped or put to use somehow. It needs to be done. I can either take care of it or ignore it by looking somewhere else.
When I looked further away, I saw the "problems": the moles, the lack of grass, the hard soil, the dull mower blades, the uneven ground. But I also realized that one of the problems could be part of the solution. Things might not be as bad as I thought they were.
The beautiful forest with all its color, a touch of heaven on earth, wouldn't even be noticed if I don't lift my eyes from the junk and the problems around me.
My plot of land slowly became a life lesson, a lesson on balance. It would be so easy to spend my days focused on only one thing, trees. I could spend my days watching the trees stand as still as royal guards or gyrate like whirling dervishes. I could watch the pale green of new growth darken with maturity. I could watch yellow pollen blow from reddish brown catkins. I could watch it all and never tire of it. They give me a sense of peace, but my house would collapse around me, and my yard would become either a jungle or a very wet desert.
I could also spend my days focused on one thing, work. I could drive myself crazy with what has to be done. I can become overwhelmed by looking at overgrown gardens and flower beds, weedy grass, mole hills, refuse piles, and dull mower blades. So what do I do?
I try to find balance in my life. I deal with the "up close and personal" stuff, but don't obsess over it. I look at the problems out there, but try to find the positives. Then I celebrate the peace, beauty, and tranquility of the forest.
But that is not enough. I must look beyond even the forest to the heavens, even beyond the heavens to the one who sits on the throne. It is there that the strength, desire, and joy to face the problems and do the work will be found. It is there that true peace, beauty, joy, and tranquility will be found. It is there and only there that perfect balance in one's life will be found.
"I lift up my eyes to the hills--where does my help come from?
My help comes from the Lord who made heaven and earth.
Psalm 121:1-2 NIV
Be blessed,
Jan
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