This morning I was leaving early on my short drive to work, and as I rounded a corner I saw a blanket of mist dangling over the roadway. I followed its wispy trail into a nearby field and there I glimpsed wild shoots of foxtail reaching towards the sky. There wasn’t a particularly awe-inspiring sunrise present over the field, but something about the way the early morning light illuminated everything filled me with a sense of wonder.
How many times had I driven past that field and not taken the time to notice how stunning it was?
I had just returned from vacation in the Smoky Mountains, and I had a lovely time admiring nature’s beauty and God’s handiwork. As we were driving home, though, and in a close proximity to our city, I pointed out some beautiful landscape to my husband. It really was beautiful where we lived, but I guess sometimes we didn’t notice as much. On vacation we had the time freedom to soak in our surroundings, but on a typical grind day? Not so much.
This morning I was again reminded how amazing the world around me is, and I felt some shame that I didn’t take notice more often. In my heart I knew every pinkish purple sunset was a gift just for me, but that fact that I seldom took the time to notice was kinda sad.
I thought back to my time on the mission field almost twenty years ago, and I smiled at the common phrase heard in a Bajan accent.
“It’s all irie mon.”
It had been a difficult cultural change for me to get used to, and I remember getting raging angry waiting on the bus that always came late. In the Caribbean schedules were fluid, and much like the “irie mon” phrase, all was good. Westerners could get frustrated all they wanted about the lackadaisical attitude of locals, but they’d just smile in a relaxed, happy way. While it was certainly frustrating to someone used to schedules they did have a good thing going when it came to enjoying life around them. I realized I could learn a lot about taking the time out of a harried schedule to take a quick dip in the ocean before breakfast. Haha. I couldn’t beat them, so I joined them.
But then I came back to the fast lane and I’ve been rushing around ever since. I wondered how my life might better improve if I could just slow down long enough to enjoy mist on a field of foxtails as I drove by, or perhaps savor the smell of my freshly bathed baby instead of hurrying to put everyone in pajamas.
It might improve all our health and wellbeing to slow down just enough to see the beauty around us, to thank God for the little gifts He gives us in the song of a sparrow or the intoxicating sound of a baby’s laughter. The fact is the world around us is packed with presents just waiting for us to open, and if we can stop running and instead smell the roses we might just see the true value of life.