i had no problem finding my favorite place here at oaklands [the name of our house. there are no house numbers, just names…like the old days] i discovered it my first morning here and have spent many others there already. the house, the highest point in the city, is rather unusual, with little nooks and crannies everywhere. off of the northeast side of it, is a long, narrow porch. the roof extends beyond the edge and shelters me from a.m. sprinkles. the air here is warm as the morning sun rolls back the covers of the fog to wake up these peaks. they seems reluctant…i would be too. the greenness of the mountains is slowly exposed and i stand in awe. is this really my life?
i hear a family below getting ready for the day. the children are dressed in their uniforms and their packs strapped to their backs. laundry is being hung to dry and the day begins. across the road and up a ways, a woman prepares breakfast and i listen to the rhythm of her sifting rice. she stops to pick out impurities and then begins again. the man walking up the road entertains me for a few moments as he passes. i wonder where he’s off to and what has put the song in his step. the monkeys seem to be especially active this morning as they bounce around the branches. i don’t know if i’ll ever tire of watching them. the birds softly weave all the sounds of the day together with their happy tune. they know not what the day will hold nor where they will find their food. but they know they’re taken care of; they know their Maker will provide.
the sky is now clear and we’re no longer living in a cloud, unusual for this season. i see three layers of peaks in the distance and know that there are many more still hidden from my view. it’s probably good this way. if i saw it all at once, it would be too much to take in. thank you, Lord, for only showing me slivers of Your creation. thank you for revealing Yourself to me in pieces.
