The List

I had a list today, but I put it away. Lynne said that I should. “Get your camera and take that walk,” she said as we chatted on the phone. It seemed too lavish. My husband, after all, was working. And I had important things to do. Some of my chores were even “carry-overs” from Monday, Tuesday, and Wednesday. But I wasn’t horribly resolute about this list today. And I can say, “Lynne made me do it.” I totally love a good excuse.

So I took a long walk. A leg-stretching, deep sighing, traipsing and meandering kind of stroll. I watched insects in the meadow. Searched for deer and turkey tracks on the soggy forest path. Closed my eyes and breathed intoxicating scents of honeysuckle and wild berry blooms. And I made a different list. Here it is.

1. Fog is quieting. Especially when it is lifting. It shushes my mind so my soul can think.

2. Salmon-pink azalea blooms can survive a thunderstorm. I presumed that this morning’s pouring rain and gusting wind had smooshed them. Delicate beauty is hardier than it seems.

3. The Gerber Daisies are back! Growing right where they were planted last year. In the middle of the weeds I should clear. I guess some things don’t need my fussing and tending to thrive. Or even my faith in their ability to survive the winter. They managed it all without me. I love surprises like that.

4. I haven’t seen the turkeys today, but they left a feather in the meadow below the cottage. I feel pretty sure the turkey hasn't missed it. For him, it is completely replacable. For me, it is a small treasure.

5. There is something very poignant about beautiful things that only last a moment. Like water droplets on blades of grass. We walk on them. The wind blows them away. The sun evaporates them. But sometimes, if we stand very still and look, we can see them before they disappear. And then they are always remembered.

6. I am not really sure which I love more: blackberry blooms or blackberry cobblers. Both, however, grow on sprawling bushes that have intolerable thorns. Several things I truly love are like that.

7. You can’t really predict where bugs are going to land. You definitely have to be watching. If you hate bugs, their landing could be a catastrophe. If you are fascinated by them, their landing is a gift. I am thinking that sometimes the difference between a catastrophe and a gift is simply perspective.

8. I found a four-leafed clover in the yard.

9. I lost a poodle in the field.

10. And she was NOT too happy about being found.

I finished my walk and sat at the computer eating Orange-Almond-Spiced Homemade Granola (a Wendy Cantrell special treat) as I clicked through all the photos I had taken.

Here is my conclusion on the subject of lists:

Lists can be a good thing if they are inspiring and nourishing.
Lists can be a bad thing if they are demanding and stifling.
But lists can be a blessed thing if they bring your heart and your mind to the kind of quiet rest that allows the voice of God to be heard. And believed. And acted upon.

All in all, lists are really just neutral.

But what we do with our lists . . . that, seems to me, to be the thing that defines them.

Psalms 46:10-11
Lesa K. Reid

Walking

Sometimes we need to waltz past the obvious. We simply need to say, “Excuse me, could you step aside, please? I have better things to do today than to dance with the blatant.”

The stock market is in bad shape.
This is an extremely important presidential election and everyone should vote.
Life is really hard sometimes.

There. State the obvious. Then move on. No sense dancing with it, worrying about it, or letting it ruin your perspective.

Walking is excellent for obviating the obvious. Striding through your neighborhood or hiking across hidden trails or wandering through a Kirkhaven field is simply good for you. Nothing bolsters the constitution like a great trek. And rambling slowly is best. Take your time, feel the breeze, listen to the birds, and stop to study every flower near your path. Or if you feel really daring, take a tramp at night under the stars.

Yes, I know that a brisk jaunt may be better for your health than a dallying stroll. I understand the rules of “heart-healthy” living. But what about your soul?

I think we should traipse often. Without an agenda. Without a schedule. Be extravagant. During these trying times when we must hurry and save and be careful and act responsibly, I believe we should waste something. Just carelessly throw our sensibilities to the wind and go on a long, slow walk.

These are difficult days. That is truly obvious.
But the Lord is faithful. That is obvious Truth.

The LORD is my shepherd, I shall not want.
He makes me lie down in green pastures;
He leads me beside quiet waters.
He restores my soul;
He guides me in the paths of righteousness For His name's sake.
Even though I walk through the valley of the shadow of death,
I fear no evil, for You are with me;
Your rod and Your staff, they comfort me.
You prepare a table before me in the presence of my enemies;
You have anointed my head with oil;
My cup overflows.
Surely goodness and lovingkindness will follow me all the days of my life,
And I will dwell in the house of the LORD forever .
Psalms 23:1-6 (NASB)

Perhaps life itself should be an ambling meander with the Shepherd.

Psalms 46:10-11
Lesa K. Reid