Adulthood has these momentary lapses of naivety where I think that I have seen it all. Temporary life in Arizona has once again opened my eyes to the fact that life always holds the potential for the new. For instance, all of my life I have taken hot food out of an oven and then eaten it. In the last week I have learned that it is possible to take food into an oven and then eat it. Stepping into the heat is a little reminiscent of standing behind the exhaust pipe of a running car, except that the exhaust would feel like air conditioning. I also thought that for all of the time that I have spent swimming in the recent years, I would have strong arms; rock climbing for the first time has taught me that my arms could be a whole lot stronger. I have never seen so many days of consecutive sunshine, so many trees with green trunks or so few birds that are clothed with pretty colors.
These times are a gift. They bring perspective to the days of normalcy in the hill country of Bentley Farm. They teach me to value home differently – to love brown tree trunks, clouds that bring rain, temperatures that are below one-hundred and birds that are actually colorful.
Most of all, though, I have found myself reflective in these moments of the simple and yet so awesome gift of life itself. There are times in life where everything seems to go according to the plan that would have been sketched if I controlled my destiny. Life in those times thunders with excitement, purpose and meaning and life is loved. There are other times when life holds a completely different outcome than expected and the map unfolds a leaf that I never expected to open. Recent days have felt more like the latter than the former, and yet the beautiful gift of this time is to realize that I am still in love with the gift of life, and more importantly, its Giver.
Just live your life with God inside You won't regret one moment of it And give all that you can for God (Hillsong, Free)