The Little Things

This morning I crawled out of bed and turned on the news. I didn’t need to turn on the news because, though I am not a prophet, knew what the news would be. China, Fentanyl, Biden, murder of young aspiring nurses at the hands of illegal aliens, and commercials telling me to buy something I don’t need, nor want.

Is it any wonder that nobody is feeling particularly chipper? So . . . I walked outside. The sun was peeking through though I knew its rays were only temporary. The rain of the last two weeks was just allowing whoever walked outside to participate in what might be: a sunny day, but not this day. No, that sunny day will be a few weeks down the road if it happens at all. Then there were the hummingbirds at war over the feeder of my wife’s. The one turkey of a hummingbird chasing off all comers. Typical. So, I began considering the brief sunshine and considering the nearness of Spring.

We own about one half acre in a valley in the western U.S. It is forested in oak trees accentuated by vineyards. It is so very small; our village being blessed with less than four hundred total population. We have lived here since the 1970s and knew once we were here that this was it. My wife is a nurse, now retired, and I am just old. But being old has returned me to notice the little things. Now that I don’t feel the crush of my own business and a schedule that used to keep me hopping I am excited by those few rays of sunshine this morning. A promise of things to come outside the nastiness of this world. A thing that bypasses the world and was just for me to lift my mood and wake me up to a new day.

If you allow your mind to relax and move away from the news you will find that you become excited by a ray of sunshine, a ray of promise even though the rain will continue for a time. A caress given you from Heaven above. A promise of continuation from above. After all comes crashing down, it is the “above” that governs the finale.

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