What Lies Before Us

 A couple of days ago I was riding my bike, deep forest lining the trail on both sides of me.  The weather was warm and breezy, the sun shining through the green leaves on my shoulders.  I took in deep breaths of the fresh air as I peddled, the woodsy, mossy scent filling my lungs. 

I studied the woods to my right hoping to see some wildlife, glancing occasionally in front of me to keep on the path.  It was during one of those brief glances I caught quick movement as a fawn ran frightened from the middle of the trail before me into the woods I had just a moment before been searching.

 Mama deer stood very still, looking right at me as I hit my breaks, the squealing of the worn metal scaring her away.

In looking for what might be, I missed what was actually right there.

I learned a lesson from my wilderness encounter that revealed to me the parallels in my everyday living.

How often I miss the beauty right before me because I’m busy searching off in the distance.  Somewhere other than where I am.

How many times do I take my gaze off of God and the path that leads to closeness with Him in order to see what I might be missing elsewhere. 

And how often do I have an idea eager to travel from my mind through my hand to the page, and yet I look and search for more.  Better.  The right time.  The right place. The idea long forgotten, unable to recall, when I decide to write about it.

I have always been a child who likes to wander away from the beaten path, instead walking to the beat of my own drum.  And while that’s not a bad thing, it can border on rebellion.  And has many times.  Looking for and wanting more than what I have right before me.

Contentment.  Joy.  Experiencing God’s goodness and blessings.

While watching for them so that we can be attentive when they are present, may we not miss what is right before us in search of what “might be,” always remembering to appreciate and give thanks for “what is.”

All is Grace.