One day this past week, I looked out the window and was stunned by the brilliance of the early morning sunlight on the “new spring” green of the tree in the church yard across the street. I say I was stunned because I was just passing through that room of our house, but the brilliant green color stopped me in my tracks. It was an absolutely beautiful sight!
I stared at it for a few seconds, then turned and started to walk away… but I had to look back. And when I did, I stopped again. I was captured not only by the brilliance of the sunlight and the “really really” green of the new leaves… but a closer look unveiled a sparkling of that brilliance as the leaves moved ever so slightly in the gentle early morning breeze.
I did something that I can’t remember doing in a long time. Despite the moments’ earlier objective of moving through that room to my destination, I pulled up a chair, sat down, and stared at the visual feast across the street. I just sat there and took it all in.
A little later I prayed a prayer of thanks for the striking beauty of this tiny piece of God’s creation, for the gift of pleasure and solitude it had given me. I stood up and walked into the next room. Glancing at the clock I realized that this whole epiphany had scarcely taken up three minutes of my time.
I marveled at how such a wonderful gift of God had taken up so little of my day. Yet I knew full well, it was three minutes I’m rarely willing to invest in inactivity. I was convicted of my inability to sit still long enough to experience and ponder the simple gifts of God.
“Be still, and know that I am God… I am exalted in the earth.” (Psalm 46:10, NRSV)
May this be so, more and more in my life and yours!