With the weather becoming warmer I thought I'd bless my son with a treat from his school canteen for lunch. To save him some time I had the order written out and told him, as simply as possible, "You just have to take it from this front pocket of your bag and place it in the lunch order box. That's all you need to do. Do you understand? Yes?! Okay." This conversation has now occurred every morning for the past two weeks! It is so frustrating; I just want to bless him, to give him his most favourite chocolate milk drink as a way of saying, "Hey, kid, I love ya!" But as much as I want him to have this, there is still that one step that he needs to take to receive the blessing.
Yesterday morning, having gone through "the speech" once again, I watched him walking to his classroom and hoped that today would be the day that he finally 'got it' and received his treat.
"Get your camera out and go for a walk this morning."
I started the car and left to drop our youngest boy at daycare.
"Get your camera out and go for a walk this morning."
"Get your camera out and go for a walk this morning."
By the time I returned home, I knew without a doubt that this was not my mind prompting me to "Get my camera out and go for a walk this morning." I like indoors. My computer. Coffee! But I recalled my thoughts to my son from barely one hour earlier,
". . . as much as I want him to have this, there is still that one step that he needs to take to receive the blessing."
And so I did. I didn't even take my mobile phone with me! And it was such a sweet, calming, relaxing time of "aaaahhhhhhh-ness" that what I thought was, perhaps 45 minutes, was a solid 2 hours of standing beneath the trees that I look out upon every single day; talking to the galahs - privy to the courting ritual of one couple that was so delightful - looking at the ways the trees moved and the patterns in their bark; I even cheered on a baby bird as his mum and dad and aunts and uncles waited eagerly for him to leave the nest and fly!
On returning home I stopped; to smell the roses, to watch a spider spinning her web, and to play hide-and-seek with Sticky the Stick Insect. I marvelled at the abundance of life dancing in the sun's cascading warmth in my front garden.
And in all of these things, I praised our awesome God for his gift to me; this time away from my usual thoughts and actions and feelings, this gentle and most excellent display of His provision and joy and love for all creation.
And His personal, father-heart love for me - Helen - his daughter, whom he wants to bless over and over again, in ways that will draw me out of the everyday ruts and drudgeries of life, and fill me to overflowing with his beauty once again.
May you, too, be blessed by our Father God in a big way, by the small things of everyday life.
Helen
